Merry belated Christmas! Happy belated New Year! Happy belated Chinese New Year!
Hey guys! Long time no write! I hope everyone is doing well in this new year. I am so, so sorry about this SUPER late upload. It just kept dragging on and on and on. In my defence, I was really busy with my courses and all. So, how have you been? I've been doing alright. The world's gone through some massive changes. There's a new president now and we've got vaccines (YAY!). Nonetheless, don't be an ass and be responsible. Another wave caused by complacency, arrogance and general assholiness is the last thing we need, by far. Before we begin, responding to your comments.
Dragon Lord Syed 101: Thanks!
Vampirelord101: Glad you like it!
Werwolf: Thanks for the corrections! I'll implement them. Also did the "fr" in your name previously mean "français" by any chance? Also regarding the soldiers, I'm on the fence at the moment.
Ewertondragon10: Glad that you do.
123ABIR123: I will! Thanks for the encouragement!
Guest (who talked about the summary): Thanks for the tip! I'll put it in place. Hopefully, we'll get more readers. I put it there because I wasn't sure how this would be received when it was first uploaded. But thanks! And on the topic of grammar...
Please point out to me any glaring mistakes that I may have made. I encourage you to post your reviews, questions, and suggestions for this story! And as always, be nice, be polite, be respectful, be courteous to one another and your families. We all deserve that much.
Onto the fic!
Posted: 14/03/21
Chapter 8
Despite what the Four Kingdoms may say, through the veil of treaties, diplomacy and peacekeeping, there lies a sense of competition between them. An innate drive to outperform, outshine or simply outdo their contemporaries that failed to burn out in the fire of war, fueled by the lasting concept of independence and sovereignty. It is a desire that drives people apart, yes, but also sees the children of Remnant come together and create wondrous things.
Needless to say, the easiest way to express and project said supremacy lay in the Kingdoms' future generations. Their youth. The other way, no surprises given the nature of the world, was through combat prowess. From wars of old to the peaceful, modern counterpart that is the Vytal Festival, each Kingdom strives to do its best, to earn the chance to say "Ha! I AM THE SHINING JEWEL OF REMNANT!"
This is the modern way that the Kingdoms cool and vent their frustrations, the way they relax tensions and rivalries without proclaiming an intention that is explicitly that of a war hawk. Without proclaiming pride in their shared histories, rife with conflict, for no sovereign nation would wish a repeat of the terrible losses sustained once before.
Just don't let the Britannians hear that, though. They would scoff and sneer at their neighbours, labelling them "pathetic" for trying to erase a proud, warrior past of conflict and diverse martial heritage.
In lieu of this new form of "war", the Kingdoms seek to train their "soldiers" as best as they can. Hence, the sparring arenas. From the lofty heights of Atlas to the dry and blistering heat of Vacuo, every kingdom trained their youths to fight, to prove themselves to their peers.
Excerpt from the Daily Journal of Doctor Bartholomew Oobleck
-In the Auditorium-
In light of the disruption Monday's little invasion caused, the teaching staff of Beacon saw fit to spend the Saturday morning as a makeup session, much to the displeasure of pretty much everyone. Students cried blasphemy at the decision and were into sated with the promise of a half day and a field trip to Dell, courtesy of their sympathetic headmaster. So at 8 in the morning, on a Saturday did they find themselves in combat class, under the hawkish glare of Glynda Goodwitch.
Compared to its counterparts, Beacon's official sparring arena, the amphitheatre, known as the auditorium to some, was a plain affair. It sported a plain beige and black tiling, with a round stage capable of elevating set into one side and a dark brown inner ring. The lower levels had little alcoves with rose window motifs while the upper half held seats, more akin to the stands of a stadium, through which an audience could comfortably view the proceedings.
Be it a speech, a presentation, a show.
Or a duel.
It was all the same to Lelouch though. His fingers gently curled and relaxed as he watched his opponent make the descent down into the "ring", confidence and self surety oozing with every step. He was pleasantly surprised by the system's choice, but it was a randomised selection so he just shrugged at the serendipity and chose to roll with it.
Didn't matter if he met her yesterday or years ago, he would give her a good fight regardless! He hoped that she was up to it too.
He absentmindedly scratched his chin as his opponent stepped up to the platform. 'Huh. I should shave,' he noted.
-Up in the bleachers-
*DING*!
"Cinder Fall!"
"...Well this is a surprise," she commented after a brief moment. Emerald was furiously texting on her scroll now, shooting concerned glances toward her leader. Noire, meanwhile, just gave her a cheeky grin and two thumbs up, wishing her the best. It would've been sincere too. But that glint in her eye said otherwise.
"Cinder are you sure about this?" whispered Emerald.
"Cinder Fall!"
"Very much, Emerald," she replied as she stood up. "Coming Professor!"
"But what about-"
"I said it will be fine," emphasised Cinder. "Besides, I can hold my own. He won't be much of a problem. I'll fight as if I don't have my powers if that will reassure you." She shot the mint-haired girl a cocksure smirk as she walked to the staircase. 'An unexpected incident, but no matter. It was randomised anyway,' she mused to herself. 'Just need to play along.'
As she strut up to the platform, she offered a courteous smile to her opponent and to the professor (read: hag). "Professor," she nodded in greeting. Her gaze turned to the Britannian and she gave a smirk. "Lelouch."
"Ah, Miss Cinder," he cordially returned, hands clasped behind his back. "A pleasure to see you again."
"Same to you," she lightly giggled, "though I never expected it to be so soon."
"The selection's random," shrugged Lelouch, "what can you do?" As he said this, his hands came forward and he ran the pad of his thumb over his nails. "Oh, these need a filing."
"Good point," she conceded. "How was your day yesterday?"
"It went well. Didn't have a problem," he replied. "Were your studies fruitful?"
"Very much!" she said with interest. "Your homeland's history was most intriguing."
"If you two are quite done," stepped in Glynda, "I would like to begin your bout. We don't want to extend till after the period, do we?"
"No, professor," the two said in unison.
"Good. Now Lelouch, Cinder, the same rules apply. I trust you will uphold them on your end?"
"To our best, ma'am," answered the boy.
"Very well then." The three took a step back as the holographic screen above them chimed as it displayed the status of the fighters and the lights loudly clunked, the ring lighting up while the rest of the room bathed itself in shadow. The two combatants were in view of each other while Glynda stood at the edge of the arena. "Monastery's Lelouch Lamperouge versus Haven's Cinder Fall. Fighters!"
The two focused on the other, blocking out all other distractions.
"Begin!" announced Goodwitch with a swish of her crop.
"You aren't going to knock little old me down again, are you?" Cinder smugly asked, one hand placed on a cocked hip.
"Depends on how this spar turns out," Lelouch replied, passing a coin between his hands with a loud *PING*. "Do you not have a weapon?"
"My hands are my weapons," she stated, raising one for emphasis. "Along with some dust."
"A pugilist then?" he asked, impressed. "I can respect that. But it's hardly fair. So," he removed his baldrick, sliding it and Oath outside of the ring with his foot. "I'll give myself a handicap."
"Are you sure?" Cinder asked with a raised eyebrow. "You're giving yourself a disadvantage. I'm at full capacity and you practically halved yours."
"I know what I'm doing," he reassured. "Besides, I like the challenge. It's all the same to me."
"Your funeral," she conceded.
"I think you mean yours."
"You're gambling your reputation, you know that?"
"Completely. Doesn't matter to me. My home's got a bad one to start with. Regardless," he flipped the coin up into the air and snatched it, "I'll take the chance."
"Stop flirting and FIGHT ALREADY!" a voice called out, murmurs of agreement breaking out among the stands.
"Shut up, you cuck!" Lelouch roared in response, reducing the audience to shocked and amused silence.
"Very effective," commented Cinder as he turned back.
"It comes with practice. Now then," he drew Treachery with a quiet ring, "shall we begin in earnest?"
"Lets," she agreed, settling into a guard.
"Alright," raising the dagger. "En garde."
The two silently regarded each other, daring the other to strike first. As the students watching waited for the action to start, one in the audience felt his nose itch. His head reared back, mouth open, feeling a buildup about to be released.
"Achoo!"
The two fighters blurred.
Lelouch swiped at his opponent's neck, aiming for the first strike. Cinder calmly leaned back, feeling the swish of air that trailed in the wake of steel. She struck out with a gray boot to his gut, only for Lelouch to twist out of the way and into another cut. Again, another near miss. A hook sailed in from his left, making him block the punch with the help of his bracers. He lashed out with yet another cut that was caught by her palm on his wrist. The two pushed against each other, vying for the first blow. "Impressive strength," Lelouch complimented, even as he tried to strongarm through her defence, gradually pushing through. "Thank you very much," she accepted, staring into his eyes with an eager grin. "But honeyed words will hardly do anything to me. Trying to make me loosen my guard are you?"
"Who said anything about that?" he haughtily snorted. His right hand let go of Treachery with a flick of its wrist, sending the blade to his left hand. 'Inside my guard!' Cinder realised. With the height and movement advantage, he sent an opportunistic stab down into her, aimed at the soft spot between the collarbone and her neck with his weight behind the strike. Even as her feet moved her away from a match-ending blow, she winced in pain as the tip of the blade smashed down onto her left shoulder and moved to prevent him from a follow up. But he was faster.
He sank to his knees, ducking under a swing, and sent Treachery's edge biting into the inside of her right knee. It hooked behind her heel and cut deep into her left Achilles tendon, the move jerking her foot forward and pulling her off balance. To top it off, he curled his arms into himself as she just regained her balance and sprang from his knees.
Recovering from that assault on her heel, Cinder couldn't do much as a black and purple blob buried itself into her abdomen, Lelouch's armoured shoulder smashing her gut and sending her back. 'That's going to bruise,' she winced as she gasped for breath.
"My, are you already tired?" taunted Lelouch, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "I was just getting started." He clicked a switch on Treachery and its blade shot forward with a mechanical *chik*, extending into a purple longsword.
"Heh," panted Cinder, pushing her hands off her knees and wiping a dribble of spit from the side of her mouth. "Please, I was just getting warmed up."
"Then come, give me your best." He placed one foot in front of the other and his free hand behind his back. With a swish, he crossed his sword from his shoulder to his side in a challenge, poising it perpendicular to his neck with its tip pointed to her.
'With pleasure,' she glowered at him. Cinder surged at him with a burst of speed. She bobbed and weaved her way around the swift cuts that threatened to whittle her down like a hunk of wood. Amber eyes narrowed in focus as she ducked under a thrust, breaking into his guard. Aura coursing through her hands, she activated hidden dust caches in her gloves, sending a fist covered in a thin layer of stone into her opponent's belly as revenge. And judging by the stifled gasp, it struck true.
Unfortunately, her glee was short-lived. Wincing from the hit, Lelouch drove an elbow down onto Cinder's back. Binding her free arm and pulling her close, he retracted Treachery, activated its ice dust and drove it ruthlessly into her exposed back, over and over.
Grunting with each frosty sting she felt, Cinder fruitlessly struggled to get out of the bind. Taking a brief second of pain to think clearly, despite the assault on her rapidly depleting aura, she used her semblance to superheat and morph her rocky fists into wicked knuckle claws. Lashing out with vigour, she swiped at his exposed calf and groin, giving him pause at the sudden surge of pain. Just enough to loosen his grip.
As she slithered out of his grasp, she planned to strike at his chin and then his neck with lightning-fast jabs. But Cinder underestimated her adversary's cunning. Using the momentum gained from stumbling back, he levered up his knee into her cheek, just shy of her eye socket. Hissing in pain, her head launched up from the impact and Lelouch took the chance. Wrapping his hand around the crossguard, palm on the flat of the blade, he shot Treachery forward pommel first. Luckily, Cinder managed to react in time and took a step to the side. So instead of getting a pronged pommel into her throat, it smashed into her clavicle instead, making her step back to steady herself.
Not a crippling blow to her or her aura, thankfully. But it hurt like a bitch regardless. Bringing her hands together, she clasped them and heated her earthy armaments again, willing them to consolidate on her knuckles into a dense mass before releasing them all at once. It was Lelouch's poor luck that placed him in front of, at that moment, what was tantamount to point-blank buckshot, the force throwing him back and flooring him.
As he regained his bearings, Lelouch's eyes widened and rolled out of the way of an axe kick, hopping to his feet a distance away in a considerable show of dexterity. Cinder rolled her shoulders, using her soul's power to instantly melt and evaporate the ice that webbed across her back.
"Ready to throw in the towel?" taunted Cinder in imitation to his earlier challenge. She smirked in satisfaction at his panting as he brought himself to recover from the brief bout. "What's a towel?" Lelouch snarkily replied.
"Stubborn," she noted.
"I prefer resilient," he retorted, using Treachery in its longsword form to push himself to full height.
"Elaborate."
"Keep up with me first and I'll show you what I mean," he said with finality, settling into a low, two handed guard. "Don't hold back. I won't anymore."
"Fine then," she accepted, covering her gloves in earth dust once more. "I'll show you my best."
"HURRY UP AND BREAK SOME LEGS!" impatiently crowed a voice in the crowd.
Lelouch shook his head ruefully. "They just don't appreciate banter."
"Pre, mid or post fight?" she entertained.
"All three," he remarked. "Are you ready?"
"Always was," she answered, putting up her guard.
"Very well, then." He raised Treachery to his chest height and pumped aura into it, fingering a tiny trigger on its hilt even as Cinder sought to close the distance. The veins on the blade glowed an icy blue and it left a frosty trail as he swept it across the ground around him, the ring of ice expanding around and outwards. Another click of the trigger and it changed to the red-orange of fire dust. He hit the ice with the now burning blade, shrouding the arena in a puff of humid white.
Stopping in her tracks, Cinder quickly pulled out a small vial of light green dust she carried and unleashed it, sending a gust of wind in his direction. The icy steam within her vicinity cleared easily but to her irritation, he had disappeared. Judging by the complaints from up top, the others couldn't see him either. Willing a pair of knuckle claws onto her hands, she took up her guard. Ready for anything.
The feeling of her hairs standing on edge was the only warning she got. Dropping to the floor, eyes widened as a jagged streak of yellow crackled past where her torso was, dissipating into the mist and leaving behind the smell of ozone. "How's he so quiet with boots and armour?" she muttered to herself, trying to calm her heaving chest.
"You'd be surprised."
She whirled around in shock, ready to clock him in the face. Yet to her surprise, nothing but mist filled her vision behind her. 'He throws voices too?! Great. Just great.'
She released another gust of wind, clearing the immediate vicinity. Eyes scanned their surroundings, looking for the faintest of signs.
A shadow moved in the mist.
There!
She fired a barrage of hot earthen spikes at her target and grinned in satisfaction at the sound of impacts, seeing the silhouette get launched back by the attack. Quickly making her way over to inspect, satisfaction warped into annoyance when she saw not a sprawled out body but just a damned jacket. 'Damned boy,' she cursed. Where could he be?
"Looking for someone?"
A blob appeared in front of her, swiping upwards with its blade, sending a long slash up her chest. As she reeled in pain, the sword came down for another hit. Gathering herself, she lined her palms with a layer of earth and caught the blade, sparks flying off the metal as she gripped tight with stony hands. Lelouch grunted to himself and pulled with his body weight, yanking her forward and throwing himself at her in a second. A silver pauldron buried itself in her shoulder and she hissed, spinning with the impact to get him off of her quickly. As he slid off her, she lashed out a low kick at his ankle for good measure and smiled vindictively as she saw him stumble and skid along the ground. "Is that all?" she taunted, watching him pull himself up. "I'd thought you'd be better."
"You want better? I'll give you better," he scowled. He began to walk back, his figure disappearing into the mist. Cinder swore and pursued him, determined to not let him escape her sight. Yet somehow, he vanished by the time she closed the distance.
Bolts of sky blue streaked through the air and caught her by surprise, each one creating a plume of ice where it landed. As she dodged and evaded the lances of freezing energy, she was beset by bites of aura-fuelled cold, occasionally getting grazed and having her skin splotched with frosty patches. One lucky shot managed to hit her hands, the impact of it slamming one into the other and encasing them in a lump of ice. The pseudo-maiden cursed to herself as she began heating her way out but her misfortune only just began. Another barrage of the stuff came flying at her and with her hands weighed down, she threw her bodyweight around to dodge as much as she would. Still, not enough as every once in a while one would strike her.
At the end of it, the weight of the clump holding her hands together made her slump forward and struggle to stay standing (without the maiden powers). As she channeled her semblance to work through the ice, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and she ducked, just in time to evade a stab poised for the base of her skull. She frantically threw her head out of the way of a downward cut. Back, back and back some more she stepped, barely dodging surgical cuts and stabs that came at her in a flurry like a lancer swarm. The weight on her hands, however much it reduced, was not helping. In desperation, she swung the block of ice like a club, warding off Lelouch. Frustratingly, all he did was twist his body a little out of the way and parry the occasional block that came too close.
A riposte came her way after another clumsy swing, the blade glowing an angry orange. Her head tilted to the side, making Lelouch click his tongue in annoyance. Even as she escaped the strike, she could feel her eyebrows singe and see a few stray hairs float down, having been cut by the burning sword. A swift chop came down on her as she recovered, trailing baleful purple. With no option, she shielded herself with the ice block and felt her bones rattle with the impact, the gravity dust-infused chop sending her sprawling back and shattering the ice. 'Okay that was my bad,' grimaced Lelouch as he calmly approached Cinder for his next action.
Meanwhile, she was pulling herself up despite the incessant ringing in her head. Heating her hands and shaking them free of the cold, she narrowly ducked under a swipe overhead. But she was not prepared for the followup, resulting in Lelouch backhanding her with his fist, turning her around from the force. Before she could retaliate, a forearm wrapped tightly around her neck and a knee shot into the base of her spine, forcing her hips up and into an awkward position, on the tips of her toes and her neck supported by the arm wrapped around it. A glowing yellow blade jabbed into the small of her back, sending jolts up her spine, each shank like a sucker punch smashing her back in and making her grit her teeth in pain. And in rage. The outburst in aura cleared the mist around them, exposing the act to the rest of the cohort, garnering shocked looks and points at the pair.
"Your bro's really going at it huh?" whispered Ruby as she watched the Haven upperclasswoman futilely buck and thrash.
"You haven't seen the half of it," whispered back Rolo, happily munching on some popcorn. Where did he get that? "You want some?" he offered. She accepted with muted thanks, eyes glued to the fight.
They collectively winced as Lelouch hammered Treachery into Cinder's back again and again with loud, nasty *thwacks*, morbid reminders of how wondrous aura was. Something that Emerald Sustrai did not appreciate in the slightest. So much so that she nearly cast a mind-breaking illusion.
"Hey!" A sharp slap upside her head broke her furious concentration and she glared daggers at Mercury, who recently returned. "What're you doing? Do you want to blow out cover?!" he hissed quietly. Paling in realisation, she deflated dejectedly. "Sorry."
"Just keep a cool head. The boss lady will get out of it," he halfheartedly comforted. "It ain't over yet." He looked up at the holographic display and sure enough, both aura bars were still well within the healthy range, only having just decreased to around 80%, teetering on the edge of green and yellow.
And she did. After a particularly nasty stab, one with a vengeful twist into her kidney, Cinder grew enraged, desperately feeling for an opportunity to escape and counterattack, the elbows she sent into his gut proving fruitless with his armour and her being shocked. As she struggled for breath, the hold slowly squeezing out her consciousness, the crackle and shock of electricity awakened unpleasant memories. Of the hotel, of the madame, her "mother", and of the two sows of "sisters" she put down. All the pain, that blinding, muscle-seizing pain that would so often course through her body when she was their family. Nay, their slave. Never again, she swore.
Never again!
With that raging resolution, her eyes darted about, mind racing to find a way out. Then, she caught sight of his hand, the one holding the blade, swiftly coming around and toward her. The edge nearing her neck and poised to slit her throat. 'That's it!'
Her arms, which flailed in resistance till then, reached up and took hold of one arm each in grips of steel. "You want my best? Here's my best!" she spat. Incandescent power, fuelled by fury and bad memories, coursed down her arms and into her hands, turning his searingly hot. And despite all that he faced before, Lelouch could not say that he had endured what felt like a curling iron wrap around his skin for several seconds.
So no wonder his hands spasmed and his arms quickly released their hold on her, throwing off the heat source with a choked cry of pain. Much to her delight, the pain forced him to release that damnable dagger.
Time for payback.
Seizing the blade midair, she vengefully rammed it into his cuirass, uncaring if she even hit him properly and released a pulse of fire dust from the palm of her hand to push him back. As he made an attempt to grasp onto her, she slid out of his reach with minimal resistance and swiped the dagger across his neck, succeeding what he failed to do and earning breathless gasps and coughs for her efforts as he held his assaulted throat, trying to breathe normally. His only prize being the beige sleeveless jacket she wore as an outer layer hanging by the tips of his fingers.
Not letting up, with dagger in hand, she rained blow after blow, punches building up masses of earthen residue across his body, kicks disabling and destabilising him from countering and stabs being sent from the dagger to its owner in a sick form of retaliation. With a jumping reverse roundhouse*, her heel hooked onto his jaw and she sent him stumbling away. But she was not down yet. Focusing on the aura she left on him, he was at first confused then terrified, realising the peril he was in when the rocks left on his chest, weighing him down, began to glow red.
'Awwww fuck.'
The explosion of hot earth launched him back, sending him skidding and bouncing across the floor, burning her jacket up in the process. 'Pity that,' she mused as she watched him painfully recover from her counterattack. 'Good thing I have spares.' She took a glance at Treachery, now held in the palm of her hand. Glaring at it disdainfully, she cast it aside, sending it clattering out of the arena and rendering it unavailable to Lelouch for the rest of the spar.
'Aw bitch,' he scowled at her, seeing his weapon outside of the ring. "Nothing I can do about it I suppose," he groaned to himself as he got to his feet. He gave a cursory glance to the screen high up. '40%,' he noted. 'Okay we're good.' He looked at his opponent and tried his damndest to not gawk at her figure, her chest now only clothed by the sarashi bandages taped around it, a lone pauldron the only other piece on her torso. He coughed to clear his throat and loosened his shoulders, preparing them despite the ache he felt across his torso. He felt like he got hit by a truck.
"Ready to give up now?"
Cinder stood a few feet away from him, having taken a leisurely stroll up to him with an aloof look. Inside, though, she was boiling with frustration. Didn't this dog, this pest, know when to quit?!
"Hah!" He barked out a laugh as he pulled himself to stand. "Lady's first," he replied.
"Being a gentleman now? Like yesterday?" she played along, crossing her arms under her bust and subtly lifting it. "After what you did to me?" She rubbed her sore cheek, which now had a light dusting of purple. That was a hard hitting punch.
"Well, Cinder, I apologise but it's merely the tools of the trade, you understand?" he jibed. "Even so, the result was very much worth it," he leered at her, eyes scanning her figure appreciatively. She crossed her arms over her chest and lightly blushed, to some of the cohort's disappointment. "Perv," she pouted at him with contempt. Only now did she realise how "exposed" she was, so caught up in the moment that she didn't stop to realise. "I think it's about time we finish this," challenged Lelouch, bringing her focus back to him. He settled into a guard that looked familiar to her and soon the memory of that fight she saw on Wednesday came to mind.
"Hand-to-hand? Alright. I accept," she said after a moment's thought. Settling into a stance, Lelouch was mildly surprised to see it so similar to his own. "You know, I saw your practice a few days ago," she began, her gloves glowing as earth morphed and shifted on her hands. "After studying it for a while, I'd like to think that I'm acclimated to your style, no matter how makeshift mine is." Bits of rock coalesced around her fingers, lengthening and sharpening before cooling into a set of long claws, hissing with wisps of steam.
"You were there?" he repeated with amusement. "Didn't your professors teach you that plagiarism is the most heinous crime in academia?"
"It's not plagiarism if you change up just enough," she retorted, flexing her fingers to get a feel for the weight.
He smiled in eagerness. "Very well then. I expect you to adequately hold your own," he said as he lowered his stance, muscles coiling in preparation. "Try to keep up."
His claws shot out of his fingers, causing widespread murmurs among the audience and making Cinder lightly flinch at the suddenness. 'Interesting. Very interesting indeed,' she said to herself.
"By the way your shoelace is untied."
"What?" she sputtered, caught off guard by the comment. Seriously, what did he take her to be? A child? "You can't be serious. Did you think that would do something?" she haughtily snorted.
"No really. They are," he insisted, pointing at her feet.
"They are absolutely not!" she argued, already annoyed at his immature antics. His eyes bore into hers, a look of genuineness shooting across.
"I'm being absolutely serious! You should check your laces."
'As if I'll ever do that,' she chortled to herself, ready for him to move in on her. But as she waited, her mind began to wander on that one thought. "Maybe I should…" she muttered, not seeing the slight grin on Lelouch's face. As much as she tried to resist it, the pull the idea had on her wore down the focus she had on her opponent. 'Argh, fine! I'll check. What's the worst that could happen anyway?' she gave in, despite all the alarm bells of her logic screaming to not do it. As she continued to hold up her guard, her head visibly tilted down to look at her boots, to the confusion of her and most of the crowd, barring a knowledgeable few, who grinned and giggled in anticipation.
Cinder's confusion morphed into realisation and then into horror as she stared at the ground, seeing Lelouch, who somehow entered her guard, giving her a triumphant grin with a cocked fist.
"Sike! Gotcha."
What?!
An upside-down palm struck her solar plexus, bending her over, stunned and gasping for breath. A knee shot up and smashed into her nose, her aura saving it from being broken. A clawed hand slashed her arm as it shot out to punch at him. Another then struck and tightened around her throat, using the momentum to lift and slam her onto the ground, filling her vision with spots. Blinking them away, she rolled away from a heavy stomp that would have crushed her chest and gave a swipe at the outstretched leg, relishing the small victory when she tore a deep rend on his calf as her hand pulled back. Keeping up the pace, she swivelled on her palms so her feet faced the staggering Britannian and shot a boot upward in a back kick, square in his crotch.
"Ooh~!" chorused half the cohort, wincing in sympathy and holding their own set of jewels. "You could hear it from here!" squeaked out a member of the student body. Even his teammates couldn't help but feel sorry for their leader.
The other half meanwhile was very much amused. Some giggled childishly at the attack while others broke into bouts of laughter.
Imagine everyone's surprise, however, when he neither crumpled in pain nor shrieked a soprano note. To Cinder's growing worry for herself, he responded with a raised eyebrow. "Really? Really?"
Thinking quickly, she pushed herself away and launched a fireball with the help of her fire dust, which he calmly dodged by stepping out of the way. "You see, that would've actually worked if I hadn't planned for that," he drawled. "Still credit where credit's due. It was good thinking. Now, my turn."
He caught her on the back foot as he rushed her, the lack of focus leaving her to only desperately evade and slap away strikes while sending out a few of her own. Many of which went wide.
"Careful now," he said as he battered at her defence, "don't trip." As she took a step back to avoid a claw to the face, Cinder's eyes widened in shocked realisation when she couldn't feel where she placed her back foot. The pull of gravity on her body as a result though? She could very much feel.
A hand shot out and gripped her shoulder tightly, making her hiss in pain as claws dug into the flesh of her shoulder and aggravated her bruised collarbone. That concern was quickly replaced with the need for a guard as she spied a fist cocking back. Unable to catch it in time, the fist smashed into her cheek, throwing her onto the ground again. This time though, she was ready for the follow-up and held the boot from coming down with all her might while pulsing aura into her fire dust cache. Lelouch only had a split second to react before he felt his foot get shot up by a jet of fire. Staggering to gather himself, he was left completely open to his opponent, who wasted no time to counter. Taking a page from Mercury's book, her legs flew in the air as her arms twirled on the floor, pushing away her opponent. With a push, she flipped up and away, landing on her feet. As soon Cinder regained her bearings, she mixed the fire and earth dust in her gloves and punched, eyes glowing with determination.
On Lelouch's end, he nearly shat his pants seeing the glowing rocks of death hurtle toward him. Diving out of the way, he ran and dodged around her, trying to find an opening while frantically evading the magma balls.
What else could you call them?
As he gradually closed in on her, she grit her teeth in annoyance and sent an arc of the stuff instead of a sphere, making him leap over it. Her eyes shined as she saw the opportunity. She gathered aura, rearing to launch a blast that would explode and knock him out of the ring so that she could finally be down with this trifle. She took a deep breath, steadied herself and threw a fist!
Nothing.
'Impossible!'
"You should check your ammo."
It was too late for her to realise the trap as she undid the cover on the backs of her gloves. Lo and behold, the dust wells were all dried up. And Lelouch was underneath.
Wait what?
"Got you again!" he laughed, uppercutting the Haven student. Growling at falling for it again, she pushed him away with a front kick and launched a flying one, aiming right for his head. Ducking under it, he took hold of her extended leg and threw her onto the ground. As she recovered from the impact, he closed in, preventing her from getting up. Pinning her down, he pressed his weight on her and began to rain down punches and claws, smashing her defences even as she held up her guard and uncaring of the scandalised cries and comments from their peers. She rolled to the side as one swipe came, throwing him off balance. Turning the tables, she threw him to the ground and straddled him, sending a flurry of superheated claws down on him. And try as he might, he could not block all of them, gaining little burns here and there as the assault went on. Sparing a glance at the board, Cinder grinned seeing his aura levels dangerously low, around 20%. Looking to end it, she heated and lengthened her claws till they were like needles. As she plunged them down, aiming for his neck, Lelouch mustered his arms to move and intercept them, catching her wrists. Pulling them to the side of his head, he sat up and copied Nora, headbutting Cinder. He pushed off the kneeling and stunned girl and sent a low kick to her cheek, toppling her. Instead of pursuing his opponent, he retreated, having to catch his breath after that last onslaught.
"Are...you...done yet?" panted Lelouch, lungs burning. He had to acknowledge it. She was good at fighting, even if he had a handicap. And to fight unarmed? That took some mad bravery and she had his respect for that, despite what he spewed from his mouth throughout the fight.
On the other side of the ring, Cinder grinned in pride and excitement. This Britannian was good, far better than anything she had expected of him. As much as she disliked his ilk, she had to give him credit for his skills. That did not stop her drive to top him, however. So she gave a defiant smirk. "Only...if...you are," she panted in reply. As the two drew themselves up for another engagement, Glynda checked the time and the aura meters. It was nearly time for the class to end and both fighters were dangerously low, nearly at the red. As much as she wanted to sit back and watch how the spar would unfold, she was contractually obligated to ensure their well-being and to not hold back the cohort from their next class.
"Mister Lamperouge. Miss Fall," she called from the sidelines, drawing their attention. "The class is nearly at an end. If you want to call a draw I would happily accept it."
"We're alright professor. We can continue," refused Lelouch.
"We'll finish on time. We'll be quick," assured Cinder decisively.
"Are you sure?"
"WE'LL BE FINE!" the two answered together, entirely focused on pummelling the other.
"...Alright then," the professor accepted.
"One last bout?" he asked.
"One last bout," Cinder nodded.
There was a brief moment of silence as the two regarded each other, settled into their guards and taking deep breaths to calm themselves. Like the beginning of the match, except they were now ragged and bruised. And just like before, the two blurred towards one another.
Fists were thrown, kicks shot out and claws swiped. Feints came in all around them, trying to bait the other into a fatal mistake. Cinder, in the midst of battle, blocked low when Lelouch kicked high. He moved to intercept a cross but took a sneaky hit to the elbow for his efforts. As a punch of his sailed out, a needled knife hand shot towards his eye. Tilting his head to the side, he felt the wind that trailed behind the attack. Similarly, Cinder evaded the hook. Both seemed to be of the same mind though and bound the offending limb with their free hands, landing themselves in a deadlock. They pushed against each other, vying to break through, and grit their teeth, staring into each other's eyes, daring the other to give in first.
With a leonine growl, Lelouch gave a shove, throwing Cinder off balance as he pulled back his bound arm. The bandaged fist windmilled over head, the handlebar stopped by its target's quick thinking. Even when she was pushed off balance, Cinder was alert enough to throw up a crossguard to halt the strike. But Lelouch was not done yet; he wheeled his free arm up, breaking the crossguard and retracting his extended limb. He jabbed, hoping to capitalise on her exposure. But it got slapped away. He threw a cross that she closely deflected away. A downward palm strike to the kidney? She just barely slipped away. And the claw swipe that came after? Cinder, hopped up on adrenaline, managed to step back from it by the skin of her teeth.
'Let's switch it up a bit,' he told himself.
In a split second, he drew back the claw and reversed his motion, pivoting on his back foot and launching a spinning back kick with his left leg. Infuriatingly, she managed to duck under the attack, though in a small victory, he saw her eyes narrowed and completely focused on the fight, her body ready to bolt with the sensitive alertness of a hair trigger as the boot passed over her chin. Planting the foot of his failed kick down, it sprang up again for a shin kick to her ribs, blocked by her forearm and reinforced by her free hand. Still, he didn't let up.
He chambered the shin kick with the recoil, using the momentum to spin himself on his back foot again. Attacking her other side, he shot out a hook kick with his heel, causing her to step back and push it down. As an earthen claw surged in on the small opening, he slapped it down. With his foot down, he threw another jab at her. Of course, her response was to raise her guard in anticipation.
Finally!
Grinning to himself, he stopped the attack short and drew back, leaving her to wonder what happened. As she lowered her hands, eyes widened and she hastily leaned forward, critical of the strike that passed over her head. With his feint taken, he had just enough time to wind up and spin, using the full weight of his body to unleash a devastating hook kick aimed at her temple. As he briefly floated above her, leg outstretched, he planned out his next move. He twisted his body in a way achieved from years' of training (and stealing from Suzaku but don't tell him that) and Lelouch flipped and landed hands first, leaving a confused Cinder as her body sprang back up from its bent position. In hindsight, that was a huge mistake.
With a push of his arms and shoulders in an impressive display of dexterity, flexibility and strength, he pushed off the ground in a way similar to a kip up and caught Cinder off guard, nailing her in the chin with the soles of his feet.* Sent airborne for a short distance, she cursed at her blindness and closed the gap with renewed vigour when she righted herself.
She ducked under a cross and bound his arm. 'Well this is familiar,' he thought mirthfully as she began her counterattack, clawing and striking at his arm and sides. Ripping away the limb, he went for a shoulder check to throw her off, only for Cinder to spin around the hit. Realising his mistake too late, Lelouch winced in pain as dropped a vicious elbow onto the back of his neck and caught him in a chokehold. Though it did not last for long as he drove his own elbow into her already battered abdomen, forcing her to release him with a grunt of pain. He launched a clotheslining backhand to get some distance but she slipped under it, clawing at his exposed armpit mid dodge. She kicked in the back of his knee and clocked him in the temple, only for him to block it with a hastily raised forearm. Then her arm was grabbed and she was thrown over his shoulder and, for the third damned time today, slammed onto the tiles. She rolled away and got to a knee in one fluid motion, clawing his Achilles tendon and pulling the leg forward. As he struggled to right himself, made harder with the extra weight of his cuirass, she hit him with a flurry of strikes all across his midriff and torso, claws wearing down with each hit. Unfortunately, her good fortune came to an end as he deliberately took a punch to the face and held it tightly. Unable to escape, Cinder was unable to block in time and took a crushing hit to her jaw, launched with the activation of all his upper body muscles**. He struck her down and she grunted as she rolled with the punch, minimising what damage she could. Her free hand scrambled out and cut into his thigh, making him release her with a hiss. Using the opportunity, she gave him an uppercut and kicked him in the knee, then the chest and then the chin, pushing him back. Miffed, he clawed at her and they traded blows, whittling at each other's defences as they threw and slapped away strikes.
"I'm back! What did I miss?" asked Gino, arriving from a wee break.
"Not much really. They're still going at it," said Yang, eyes glued to the fight.
"Holy shit. That's impressive," he commented as he sat back down. "It's been what, 8 minutes since the fight started?"
"8 minutes 37 seconds," clarified Suzaku.
"Yikes that like three nonstop rounds," winced Gino as he watched the two trade blows. "That means she's good. Like really good." His two teammates bobbed their heads in agreement amidst the grunts and cries from down below.
"It can't be that hard can it?" asked Ruby.
"Ah little Rubes, so innocent to the ways of sparring," teased Yang as she ruffled the black mop of hair. "Cut it out!" pouted Ruby. "Explain. Now."
"While he can solidly beat most people in a fight quickly, Lelouch likes to save the effort and play smart, drawing out his opponent's stamina and rushing in to finish them off when they're knackered," explained Gino. "Of course, he needs to fight hard enough for them to constantly engage with him and not grow smart on his plans. That's why we call him lazy."
"So for Cinder to not only last as long as him but also make him exhaust himself as well is no small feat," continued Suzaku. "Even if he handicapped himself in fairness."
"I swear he contradicts himself," sighed Rolo, arms crossed in annoyance. "He doesn't like to waste energy but at the same time he enjoys the fight! How do those things even work together?!"
"Ask your brother."
Eventually, she nailed him with a kick to the gut, just as he landed a claw on her cheek. As she fell, he bore over, ready to pin her with a claw and squeeze a surrender out of her. But Cinder had one more trick up her sleeve. 'Why's it so warm?' he wondered. Looking down, where he felt the heat, he paled as he saw the clay shards left behind from Cinder's imitation claws begin to glow red with alarming speed, squealing with steam as what looked like swirling pools of orange gathered at their bases. "Well, shit," he said in defeat. In a last-ditch effort, he leapt at her with a snarl, baring pearly white teeth.
Cinder focused all the aura she could into her semblance and was rewarded with a small but magnificent explosion whose force punched into and through his armour. She didn't plan for him to turn it on her with that suicide tactic but even so, victory was within her grasp. The concussive force of the fireball blew the both of them back, sending them skidding and tumbling across the floor, steaming. Neither looked like they were able to get up, groaning in pain and exhaustion.
There was a moment of silence, where everyone waited to see one fighter from this awesome match stand up triumphantly. But, breaking out of her impressed stupor, Glynda took a look at the aura readings and swished her crop, deciding to call the match.
"Draw!"
The crowd erupted in a mix of cheers, boos and applause. Ignoring them, she floated two buckets of ice-cold water over to the downed students and drenched their heads in a freezing deluge, both gasping as they were brought back from passing out. While Cinder shot up and glared angrily at the bucket, Lelouch took a breath, wiped the water from his eyes and flipped himself up to stand. "Oh, my back!" he groaned as he gingerly picked up his jacket and gear strewn about. 'You just had to go hard, didn't you?! You could've had an easy fight but noooo~ you wanted to challenge yourself today!' he chided himself as he walked over to Cinder, Treachery sheathed in his belt, sword slung over one shoulder and his jacket neatly folded over his arm.
She sputtered out some water and saw Lelouch walk over. She slowly tried to pick herself up but failed, coughing from the aching in her ribs. Seeing him approach, she glared daggers at him from her seated position. 'Go ahead! Mock me! Gloat your victory over me like all the others!' she silently challenged him. 'I'll make sure you regret it,' she swore, glowering at the one that beat her down. She mustered as much anger as she could in her tired form, ready to bottle it up after a string of snide and derogatory insults.
So imagine her surprise when she received a gentle, bandaged hand instead with a small, kind smile. "Well fought!" Lelouch acknowledged. "I-I-I…" she stuttered, taken aback.
She was at a loss for words! Why?! This never happened before! So why now?
"Well? Aren't you going to get up?" he asked, hand still extended. "Oh, right! Um. Yes. Thank you for the help," she humbly accepted, taking his hand. 'Control yourself!' she self admonished. 'Now's not the time to lash out! We need to be cordial,' she told herself as she felt a pull on her arm. In one smooth motion, he pulled her to her feet and steadied her with his other hand. "Sorry if I was too harsh on you," he apologised, gently holding her hand. "It's alright," she dismissed, seeing Glynda approach them. As they turned to face the blonde, she realised something. "You can let go of my hand now. Unless you want to kiss it again?" she teased.
"Whoops. Sorry," he chuckled as he pulled his from hers, a faint flush on his tanned skin. He would later argue that it was from true exertion but Suzaku took that with a heavy pinch of salt.
"Very well done, you two," she calmly commended. "I'll be sure to go over the footage again. A very tight match."
"Please, Miss Goodwitch, you flatter us," lightly purred Cinder. "Nonsense! That was a fantastic bout." the teacher insisted. "It will make good material for your juniors next year."
"Wow, that is an honour," commented Lelouch, loosening the straps on his armour and fanning himself with his shirt. 'Sweet, cool air. Come to me!'
"Mister Lamperouge, I am impressed with your flexibility and strength, despite the armour you wear. Even though I did not approve of your 'handicap'," she noted with a knowing look. He had the decency to look bashful. "You fought well nonetheless." Then she looked at the girl from Haven. "Miss Fall, exceptional adaptability and creativity from your end. You held well against an opponent who was much more well equipped." Lelouch shrugged at the comment. "Good work especially on adapting your fighting style to match his while working with your strengths."
"Thank you, professor," she nodded.
"Now," began Glynda, typing something on her scroll, "I'll be sure to let Dr Oobleck know that I'm excusing you from history class for today. You two need to go to the nurse's office. And Mister Lamperouge, I would greatly appreciate it if I do not need to send you there again for a week."
"I'll keep it in mind, prof," he lightly chuckled.
"Very good. I'll get your teammates to deliver a spare uniform and any notes," she kindly said. Turning to the rest of the cohort, she announced, "The rest of you are dismissed! Get to your next class!"
As the students slowly filed out of the amphitheatre, Lelouch looked at his foe. "Shall we go?"
"Let's," she nodded. The two were just about to begin making their way out when the unthinkable happened, the type that only happens in far fetched stories. Because of all the damage it received throughout the match, from slashes and scratches to punches and kicks, Cinder's chest wrap, her sarashi, just barely held itself together. And fate decided that now was the perfect time for the material to give in.
"Why's it so cold? And so quiet?" she wondered aloud. The student populace, Lelouch included, froze and gawked as the bandages slowly popped and ripped from the damage and the strain, giving way and almost exposing her naked torso to the class as the torn fabric fluttered to the ground.
"YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Half the class roared in joy and the other screamed in surprise and terror at the sudden exposure. No prizes for which side did what. Scrolls were whipped out and shutters clicked away, though they failed to capture the sight before them thanks to a teacher's quick thinking. "Look away! LOOK AWAY!" strictly instructed Glynda, chasing off the teens. "To your class or no field trip!"
"Worth it," muttered Gino as he snapped a sly picture with a clear shot, only to get slapped upside the head by Suzaku. "Sorry! Geez!"
As Glynda quickly floated the buckets in front of the girl for some decency, Cinder flushed like a ripe tomato and covered her breasts, self conscious and squealing uncharacteristically. "Look away!" she angrily roared, abashed by the (very) unexpected development. Still no one listened and try as the sympathetic half of the class might, teenage hormones mostly prevailed.
The shock from this embarrassing development changed to surprise when she felt a warm fabric envelop her shoulders and a shadow step in front of her. Lelouch took a deep breath and Cinder watched in fascination as veins around his neck bulged and bled purple, making his neck look like a giant bruise.
"Look away!", he roared. As if they were one mind, everyone averted their eyes.
"Get out of here!" And as one, they gradually exited combat class. While their contemporaries filed out, he turned back to Cinder, now draped in his jacket and holding its collar, wrapping it around her. "Are you alright?"
She blinked herself out of her state of mild surprise. "Yes I am," she confidently said. "Thank you."
"It's the decent thing to do," he said. "Do you want to zip up?"
"I do but…" she trailed off, eyes scanning him. Ah right. Of course. "Sorry," he admitted, about facing her. "I won't look."
A brief moment later, he heard the sound of a zip being closed. "Okay, done." He turned around and lo and behold, she stood there now wearing and covered up by his jacket. "Great," he grinned. "Shall we go?" he asked nodding to the exit.
"I'm ready," she said. As the two walked toward the exit, she stumbled, wincing in pain. He caught her by the waist. "Woah! You alright?"
"I'm fine," Cinder grimaced, annoyed at being reduced to such a state, "Legs are aching that's all."
"Do you need any help?" he asked. "No, I'm fine," she said, taking another step. She would not be seen as weak today! "See? I'm walking norma-"
Her leg seized up in pain and again, he caught her before she face planted. "Yeah~ no," he deadpanned, "you definitely need some help." With that he hoisted her up onto his back in one smooth movement, carrying her in a position that was a bit too familiar to him for comfort.
"What the?! Put me down this instant!" she fruitlessly insisted, weakly hammering fists on his back.
"No. I'm being a gentleman."
"Is everything alright? Do you need your teammates to help you?" asked Glynda as she slowly closed up the amphitheatre. She watched the two with interest as they bickered while slowly making their way out.
"Yes!/No!" the two answered simultaneously. "Woman shut up and let me help you!" To Glynda's surprise, Cinder was quiet enough for Lelouch to say, "We're fine, we'll get there ourselves". By the time Cinder began to indignantly argue again, they were already far from Glynda.
"What about your injuries?! You can't carry me!"
"I've had worse!"
"This is no way to treat a woman!"
"So I should take my jacket back and let you walk there topless?"
"What about your sword?"
"A minor inconvenience."
"Put me down now!"
"I promise to when your leg doesn't cramp up!"
Every little thing that Haven girl tried to do to get him to put her down, he had the perfect counter. Even as they made their way down the hall, she could still hear them! She shook her head ruefully.
'Gods it reads like a bad fanfic,' she cringed as she pulled up a recording.
-Beacon Infirmary-
"In other news, the search for the culprits of Wednesday's arson attack conducted on the Industrial District continues. 73 people were treated for lacerations. 11 are recovering from smoke inhalation and 23 deceased were found inside after the fires were put out. According to eye witness accounts, the attack was carried out by a gang, making this the biggest organised crime spree since Roman Torchwick was arrested. Police Lieutenant Moon says that the arsonists are connected to-"
"Dreadful. Absolutely dreadful," ruefully commented a middle-aged woman in a lab coat. With thin, graying hair pinned up, gray hawkish eyes and a perpetual frown, Brigitte Bay M.D. cut a frightening figure for student and staff alike. It didn't help that she was around longer than most of them. Hailing from Vacuo, she was a civilian doctor who found herself in the tenure of Beacon. Serving as a first response for the school, she linked the tender little children to the Valian healthcare system. But these days she was known by many names. Like Doctor Bay, Madam Bay, Brig, Doc.
Or the most common one. Nurse. Really, they should change the job title. It understated her skills. She took a look at her clipboard and surveyed the waiting room for her next patient. "Russel Thrush? Calling a Russel Thrush."
"Here, Doc." A weak hand raised into the air to confirm his presence. With a nod, she opened the door behind her and held it, standing aside in a silent signal for him to enter her office. To the right was a storage room, filled with medicine and miscellaneous medical machinery for use at a moment's notice, generously serviced by the hospitals down in Vale. To the left was a large room, a ward for sick or injured students to rest and recover. Usually occupied by pupils from combat class.
'Seriously, Glynda. You need to lay off on the students more, as entertaining as their fights may be,' she shook her head. Just as she was about to enter her office, someone rapped the door to the little clinic. Telling her latest patient to wait a while, she watched with mild amusement as two black mops of hair entered her domain. Was that girl riding the boy's back piggyback?
"Durin, it's cold," commented an exhausted voice.
"Mister Lamperouge, what did I say about coming back here?" she asked the leonine student. The Monastery first year laughed nervously. The type that would be accompanied by a scratch at the back of the head if he didn't have a girl on his back whose head perched on his shoulder. "Not to get injured so soon?" he hazarded a guess, despite knowing full well. Plausible deniability always helped after all. Doctor Bay did not buy it.
"Exactly and what did you do?" she clucked. "We got injured," admitted Lelouch sheepishly. "Precisely. For the third time this week!" she reminded, irritation heavy in her voice. "The first I can accept, defending Vale and all. The second and this one? Not so. Any more school-related trips here and I'll pull you from combat class for a fortnight. Understood?"
"Yes doc," he accepted, shifting his grip on the girl, who had been a quiet, observant wallflower throughout the short conversation. Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she exhaled audibly through her nose. "You better. Now put that girl down. You two look terrible." Lelouch set the silent Cinder down on a chair with a soft grunt before acknowledging the doctor's instruction.
"You come here from Glynda's class?" she asked expectantly, seeing their battered state. Receiving a tired "yes", she merely nodded before jabbing over at a set of lockers, located in a separate room further to the right. "Right then, you know the drill. Weapons, ordinances and whatnots are to be placed in the lockers, showers and refreshments are available, just don't make a mess. I will not tolerate violence in here. You can remove your armour too." As the door shut with a soft click, he turned to look at Cinder, now comfortably seated. "Care to pass me your gloves?"
There was an awkward silence as she undid the straps, still clad in his jacket which hung baggily on her. She then rummaged under the jacket and passed him the dented up shoulder armour she wore on her right arm. Amber eyes regarded him as he received the items and her scroll. "What about your other dust?"
"What do you mean?"
"The vials? You know, the ones you used to clear the fog?" he asked, thinking back to the match.
"...Those were the only ones I had," she admitted, cursing at her lack of foresight.
"Wow, you really should consider stocking up," he advised, coughing to hide a small chortle. "You fight well with them."
"Yeah, I suppose a larger supply would be helpful," she snorted in response. She watched him disappear into the adjoining room with a critical eye. 'Some progress has been made. But how can I bring it further?'
He came back a short while later with two small towels and a pair of cans. He handed her a cloth and popped open the two beverages with a *crack* and *hiss*. "Here, I got you this." He handed her one, which she accepted with muted thanks. "Didn't know what to get so I went simple. Orange pop -I mean- soda. Sorry, force of habit." She raised an eyebrow at his small slip up but thought nothing of it. She took a sip, tasting the sweet and tangy taste of the citrus drink and the tingle of soda bubbles on her tongue. An eye glanced over to the boy seated next to her, one arm draped over the chair's backrest, who greedily drank from his can, emptying in seconds. He grimaced as a cold tingle travelled and lingered on his throat, the sugary drink doing its job. Lelouch's arm that hung back came around and placed a fist over his mouth, muffling a belch as he grimaced. "Pardon me," he apologised.
If he did something to piss off this girl, he could not pinpoint it. All he got was an indifferent scoff and that was a lot to cover. 'Apology's not going to work, then. And I know next to nothing about her,' he concluded. Not that he was really willing to pursue that. Everything that happened in combat class earlier was expected of them! One had to know the risks involved whenever they sparred. Unless they were misinformed or just a sore loser. The latter was more likely.
'And she doesn't seem like that type of person,' he reasoned. 'Very well, then. Make a friend out of her?' he wondered, glancing over to her as she leafed through a random magazine. Was that scar on her neck always there? Seeing no other way, he shrugged his shoulders and decided to roll with it.
"So, Cinder. Tell me," he began, putting one leg over the other and getting her to look up from the text.
"How's life?"
-History Class-
"And that, students, concludes the reign of William III of the House of Moc Britannia! Any questions?!"
As usual, practically every student under Dr Oobleck was struggling hard to keep up, much less fully comprehend what was being taught. It did not help that Britannian History was a newly added module that kindly seniors could not contribute much to alleviate the pain.
"Von, Mel, Del, Su, and now Moc?!" whined Yang, head hurting. "How much longer will this take? Why are there so many families?" she lamented, resting her skull on the counter top.
"We've got one and a half hours to go and it seems to be mostly arbitrary," commented Blake, diligently scrawling in notes. "Is that it, Rolo?"
Key word being practically. A few savvy students managed to catch on and keep pace (somewhat). These included but were not limited to Pyrrha Nikos, Blake Belladonna and of course the present members of Team LRGS.
"More or less," he confirmed, shaking his hand in the 50/50 gesture. "It was just used to classify a sovereign's children by their families. Though in the odd chance of there only being one consort, no such thing happens and they take the father's surname."
"Okay but how do they come up with the names?" wondered Pyrrha, chewing a pencil. "There's nothing about an established system in the notes."
"I've just as much a clue as you do, really," shrugged Rolo, one counter above her. "Some convoluted rules that the royal family follows."
"Well maybe you could do some research on the topic then, hm? Mister Lamperouge?" asked Oobleck irritatedly. Rolo sheepishly looked to the side and saw the perpetually caffeinated professor tapping his foot, glowering at him. "Or would you rather keep your conversations quiet and let me do the explaining?" he continued.
"The latter, Mr Oobleck," conceded Rolo. With a nod, the teacher turned and walked back down to the front. "Good choice, Rolo. And it's Doctor Oobleck. It would do you well to remember that."
"Now then! I can see you're tired from Miss Goodwitch's class. So how about you behave, we go through this last section concisely and we all get a long lunch?"
The effect was instant. Sleepy students sat ramrod straight, pens ready to jot down as much as they could. 'Barty, you've still got it,' he pat himself on the back. Just then, the classroom door knocked and it opened, a blonde boy and a mint haired girl stepping in. "Ah Mister Weinberg, Miss Sustrai. How kind of you to rejoin us."
"It's no problem, Doc," waved off Gino as they made their way to their seats. The largest and strongest member of LRGS plopped himself next to Rolo, waved politely to the neighbouring Team RWBY and took out his notebook. Which contained just the scarcest amounts of. He snuck a stick of gum into his mouth and chewed softly as Oobleck droned on about a topic which he already knew (mostly).
"As was the case with most members of the aristocracy, the Royal Family married within their households to consolidate wealth and power! And this led to genetic defects which reared their head around 400 BGW (Before Great War). A pneumonia-like plague swept through Remnant and Britannia was hit just as badly as the other Kingdoms! With compromised constitutions, the upper classes saw a higher than average death toll as compared to the rest of the population..."
"Blah blah blah, long story short everyone got sick and the survivors married the genetically healthier peasantry, especially the faunus. Creating a class of faunus nobles," concluded Gino to himself, scrawling in one or two lines, glaring at Rolo when he elbowed him in the ribs.
"So, I miss out on anything important?" whispered Gino, chewing his gum.
"Nothing much, just Willy 3."
"I see," the blonde nodded.
"How's brother doing?"
"He's doing fine. When we were at the clinic, I saw him with that Cinder girl. I think he might be sweet on her," he whispered conspiratorially.
"Oh?" prompted Rolo, a predatory grin on his face. "No way. You're bluffing."
"I'll show you later," Gino huffed, clicking his tongue as he sat back up, writing in a few more lines.
"So how was that Emerald girl?"
"Not very chatty to be honest. Very muted. Probably cause she's mistrali or something," commented the Weinberg.
"Fair enough."
"...and so the first integration of Faunus blood into the royal bloodline came with the 84th Emperor, Martin lei Britannia! With this, he lay the groundwork for the family that still persists today and alleviated some of the clan's genetic woes! Any questions?"
"Are we done yet?" asked a daring student.
"Nearly. Now we will look at the War of the Five Kings!"
The class collectively groaned as another huge ream of paper was passed around.
Why couldn't Oum be merciful?
-Beacon Airship, Outskirts of Dell-
"Field trip! Field trip! Field trip!"
Uniformed students clamoured and chanted as they excitedly filed into the massive whale-like airship, the type that first brought them to Beacon. As they sailed through the air, headed inland to the political centre of Dell, Ruby's face smushed against the window as she took in the sights. "Woah, look at all the skyscrapers!" she pointed excitedly. For a girl like her who grew up on the "backwater" island of Patch, seeing massive gleaming towers of steel and glass was simply surreal.
"Vale's got nothing on this place!" whistled Yang in appreciation. Cameras snapped away at the skyline beneath them, shining in the midday sun even as pedestrians below stopped to gawk and point at the massive carrier vessel. "Yes students, the city of Dell is an impressive sight. One that serves as the diplomatic centre of The Kingdom of Vale. It is through here that we build and maintain ties with the other nations."
"Like Britannia?"
"Like Britannia, Miss Schnee," confirmed Glynda. "Now students, I will not have you embarrass yourselves in front of our neighbours, especially ones who have only recently deemed us fit to be openly diplomatic with. So I, nor do the other teachers, wish to see any tomfoolery. Am I clear?"
The cluster of students grunted out just the barest of affirmatives and Glynda, in her years of teaching, knew that it was the best that she was going to get. So she begrudgingly took it. As the ship drifted over the city, the high pitched whine of engines and turbines drew the cohort's attention to the starboard window. It had too many sharp outlines to be a bullhead and as it screeched closer to the windows, the clouds parted, leading to many wide eyed students. For in front of them, soaring high in the sky was-
"A GIANT FREAKING ROBOT!"
As Nora so eloquently pointed out. The thing was a humanoid hunk of red and charcoal gray, with sharp, contoured armour and a headpiece with four prongs extending back and four..."eyes", for lack of a better term. In its hand it carried a mean looking rifle that looked like it could punch a hole in a bullhead if needed. And decorating its body was a number of features that its audience were too unfamiliar with to even begin to comprehend. Meanwhile, the source of the screeching was mounted on its shoulders and hips. Two pairs of thin, winged jet turbines like those on a bullhead, along with a bunch of nozzles all over its physique, carried the man of metal forward, spewing a powerful but thin beam of purple-tinged flame.
As if it could sense its audience, the red faced machine turned its head to them, giving them a mild shock as four marble like eyes bore into them. And then it promptly gave them a dopey salute, bringing about a new barrage of shutter clicks. The screech of jet turbines grew louder and the students looked up and around. And to their joy three more identical models came up to fly beside them! "Yang, pinch me." A smack could be heard from the middle of the crowd. "Ow?! I said pinch not punch!"
"Sorry," Yang insincerely apologised. "They're too loud! I misheard you!"
She totally didn't.
"I take it we're being escorted, Miss Goodwitch?" asked Weiss, standing next to the Vice Headmistress at the bow of the ship, taking in the view from a giant panoramic window. As the clouds broke apart, they could see a huge open field in the far distance, striped with airstrips and landing pads. "Very astute of you, Miss Schnee." A short whine and blur of motion showed that the quartet of mechs had formed up in formation, with two above the airship and one on either side.
"Hey where's LRGS? You'd think they'd be here," wondered Ruby.
"I know right? It's like they just up and disappeared after lunch!" added in Nora.
"Do you think they're okay? I hope they are!"
"What if they got caught by a big bad gang in the way here?!" gasped Nora.
"Or turned into monstrous Grimm hybrids by a mad scientist?!"
"Or what if-"
"SHUT IT!"
A pair of hands smashed down on the crowns of the two chattering fresh(wo)men. "Do you not even know the most basic of reasoning skills?"
"If you're so smart, tell us ice cream!"
"Yeah!"
"Don't call me that!" stamped Weiss petulantly. "Anyway, we know that Team LRGS is Britannian. We know that this excursion is to see a Britannian exhibit. Follow me?"
"Yep!"
"And Lelouch talked about helping with an exhibit a few days ago. Now putting this together, what do we get?"
"Um... he's helping at a museum?"
"YOU DOLT!" screeched the Schnee, bopping her leader on the head. "It means they're helping with the excursion, the field trip, that we're on right now. They're probably at the convention centre already!" She threw an arm out exasperatedly at the bow window. "Idiots!" coughed a mint haired girl in the crowd.
A huge, hangar-like convention centre lay in the middle of the field and a short distance away, in a manmade waterway that branched off from a river was that gigantic ship from a few days ago. The Pinafore was it? As the view of the clearing began to grow, the giant school bus of an airship made its slow descent. With nary a jostle, the airbus softly landed on the airstrip thanks to generations of aeronautical engineering.
Unfortunately not enough for Jaune Arc, whose cheeks puffed up and swelled a sickly green. "Oh no! Nonononononono! Not again!" Yang backed far away, as did every other Beacon first year. "These pumps are brand new!"
"I got it!" chirped Pyrrha. Just as the grand bay doors opened to let the students out, a gray dustbin flew overhead and smashed into the unwell Arc, launching him out of the airship.
"Blegh!"
It also made him heave up everything instantly upon landing, a puddle of green bile and yellow stuff forming. "Sorry!" called out the hoplite from the rear. "Really, Pyrrha?" asked an exhausted Ren, who pulled his partner with him as they walked to their leader. As Nora poked him with a stick, Ren handed him a water bottle from a small bag he carried. "Everything alright, Team JNPR?" asked Glynda as she walked toward them. She gently pulled Jaune to his feet with her semblance, careful not to aggravate his stomach again. "I'm alright professor. Just need a minute."
"Take all the time you need Mister Arc." The blonde headmistress strode off to coral the rest of her group, who were growing raucous and curious at all the sights. As they caught up to the rest of the group, the ground rumbled as the four mechanic beings rolled past them on weird, rollerblade looking devices, the wake they left as they thundered by blowing back the cohorts of students.
"Robot! I want ride!" excitedly proclaimed Nora, losing her grammar in the heat of it. It was only the combined effort of Pyrrha and Ren that held her back from scrambling all over the thing like a spider and probably getting squished like one.
"It's very impressive, isn't it?" asked an old sounding voice. Turning around, the group saw a tall, brown haired man with a short beard of average height who looked to be pushing seventy, clad in a dark blue blazer. Warm blue eyes scanned them with a grandfatherly gaze and he smiled cordially at them. "Unfortunately, you can't unless you're trained, young lady." Even as Nora poured, he turned to face Glynda. "Please allow me to introduce myself. Earl Ruben Karl Ashford, Headmaster of Monastery College and Chairman of Ashford Consortium. A pleasure." He coolly stuck a hand out to Glynda, who accepted it courteously.
"It is an honour to meet you, Earl Ashford," she reciprocated, noting the entourage of suits behind him with sunglasses and earpieces and ignoring the awed expressions of the trainee huntsmen. "Your students have proved themselves to be very capable in their short time here!"
"Please, a simple Mister Ashford is fine. I'm not as picky with titles as some of my more conservative peers," he politely requested. "And I'm sure the boys will be pleased to hear about that."
He took a step back and accepted an office scroll from a rose gold haired man. "Thank you, Mister Maldini." He loudly cleared his throat, silencing the impatient crowd. "Welcome, future huntsmen and huntresses! My name is Ruben Ashford and it is my honour to be your host today and to show you a piece of my home." He turned around and confidently strode to the main building, hooking a speaker into his waistband. "Follow me!"
They strode past the huge iron doors of the convention centre and into the huge main hall, which had a great purple banner hanging in the centre, the archaic feudalistic crest of Britannia in full view. All over the floor was an assortment of well-lot booths and little exhibits, attended by a sea of people milling about. "Now children," crackled out Ruben's voice from the speaker, "we have some time before the main tour starts. So how about you spend the next half hour looking around before gathering back at the entrance? The professors and I will be around the hall."
The students dispersed with varying degrees of interest, some eagerly zooming off to see the sights while others were dragged off by said zooming students.
"Ruby, slow down!" cried Weiss. The excitable young leader, in her bubbly curiosity and thirst for anything involving weapons, grabbed her teammates once Ruben left them to their devices and made an aura-fueled beeline for the armaments section. Only Weiss had such complaints though, with Yang and Blake chuckling quietly at the sight of the two.
"We can't, Weiss!" replied Ruby as they rounded a corner. "We need to beat the crowd if we want to see all the cute widdle babies! I'm not-"
Ruby's little reply never got to finish itself. In a weird sense of déjà vu, she slammed face first into a pillar of dark blue, her fellow huntress in training dominoing back in a series of squeaks.
"Owie~," she whined, rubbing her head. Removing her hand, she looked at whatever she had run face first into. Somehow, they had not fallen at all.
Tall!
That was the first thought that came to mind, for the man was indeed tall, towering over them.
He stood clad in a blue, double breasted uniform with gold trim, white gloves and tall, shiny black boots. He wore a white cravat with a little pin in the centre, a black and gold shoulder cape hanging on his left side and dazzling orange eyes.
Was that teal hair? And multicoloured blush?
"How's he pulling that off?" whispered Yang to the others. "I don't know but holy shit, he's good," whispered Blake. "Way good!"
"Language!" Weiss elbowed her teammate in the ribs, making her hiss back at the heiress.
"My apologies, I didn't see you coming! Are you alright, young lady?" the tall man asked, reaching down to help her up with a kind smile. Dusting herself off, Ruby nodded happily before she pulled up the others. "Again, apologies for my lack of awareness."
"Pffft! It's alright," she waved, "Mister…?"
"Gottwald. Margrave Jeremiah Gottwald," he replied with a genteel bow.
"Nice to meet you Mister Gottwald!" Ruby cheerily greeted, sticking a hand out.
"Margrave?!" squeaked out Weiss. The Schnee hastily grabbed the hem of her skirt with one hand and pushed her partner down from in between her shoulders, forcing Ruby into a rudimentary bow while she pulled a weird half-curtesy. "We sincerely apologise for our grievous transgressions! Please forgive us!"
"Ladies, please!" interjected Jeremiah, holding his hands up placatingly. "There's no need to prostrate yourselves here! We're not in the Emperor's court! A mister would suffice, please."
He gently held their shoulders and pulled them up to full height. "Sorry," Weiss sheepishly said.
"Think nothing of it! There's no need for it but effort is appreciated," comforted Jeremiah. "So I take it you're here for the tour?"
"Yep!" grinned Yang. "We're here to see all the awesome stuff you guys brought in!"
"As my partner so… elegantly put it," continued Blake, trying to reflect some amount of politeness, "we came with the rest of our schoolmates on a field trip."
"Ah, splendid! I hope you'll find this place most interesting!" said Jeremiah and he stood straight, fixing his cravat. "In fact, please allow me to make up for earlier on by bringing you around!"
"You don't need to do that, mister Gottwald. We already forgive you and-"
"WOULD TOTALLY APPRECIATE YOU TAKING US AROUND!" jumped in Ruby, slapping a hand over Weiss' mouth and shooting her a glare. 'Say it. I DARE you.'
With a quiet snort, the Margrave obliged. "Right then. How about we start here? Now ladies, what you see in front of you is an artist's rendition of a scene from The Grand Voyage. Here we see Exiled Prince Odysseus fen Britannia facing off against the great Charybdis…"
-In another section of the convention centre-
"Human artillery. Huh. Neat."
One Team CMNE stood in another part of the hall, looking at a longbow mounted in a glass case. The string browned with age, the old weapon lay neatly for its audience.
"Yadda yadda yadda…deployed en masse…yadda yadda yadda…killed en masse…sees use now as a ceremonial weapon as well as a training tool."
"Yes Mercury, very astute of you to read the description for us," drawled Cinder indifferently.
"Must we really waste our time here, Cinder?" asked Emerald, trying her damndest to look interested. But she couldn't. 'Pompous assholes showing off their wealth.'
"Don't be hasty, Emerald. We can't rush perfection," she gently chided. While the rest milled about, she stood in front of a velvet rope barrier, looking at a grand painting that hung before her. It depicted a foggy landscape and a grand, old stone bridge. On one side, the silhouette of a lone warrior with few details, a red haired lady with a silver circlet and a bow, drawn back. On the other, a giant bear rearing on its hind legs, dwarfing her in its monstrous black and white glory. "The Bear and The Maiden Fair…" she read aloud. "Interesting."
An electric chime stole her attention from the painting. Looking at the source, she found their diminutive fourth teammate watching a holographic display that robotically droned on its current subject matter. Which currently was-
"-The Sootwing. Also known as the Hien or Comettail." The display showed an avian Grimm that heavily resembled a swallow. It's plumage was a dusty coal black and it had a long, slender beak that was marble white and tapered to a tip along with sleek bone plating that covered its little round head. Its thin wings were covered with a similar frame of bone that was honed to a fine edge, its feet tipped with small but curved talons. Little calcified knobs occasionally jut themselves down the length of its back and the forked tail smouldered with embers. "This swallow-like species of Grimm roam and attack in large flocks, swarming its prey."
"You know, I wonder if Lady Salem knows about this. I certainly didn't."
"Watts," Cinder bitterly ground out. Tilting her head to the side, she noticed the officially dead Atlesian scientist standing next to her, dressed like one of the thousands of suits milling about. Her underlings noticed too but were wise enough to not show it, instead eyeing the meeting with subtle glances. "What do you want?"
"How presumptuous of you to think that I want something just because I'm here."
"Don't play coy with me!" she hissed. "I will not have you interfere with MY objective for some contrived reason. Now I'll ask again. What do you want?"
"So impatient," he smugly commented. "You youths can't take a joke these days. Lower your hackles girl. You're the Lady's Chosen Maiden. Her champion. Not a growling bitch. Watch yourself, before you give away everything."
Cinder's indignation smouldered. She was ready to lash out at him. Kill him? Heavens no. As much of a bastard as the rogue scientist was, he had a vital role to play. She would stay her hand. For now.
"Fine," she reluctantly agreed, clenching her fist but staying her hand. "But I will ask again. What are you here for?"
"Simple reconnaissance by order of The Lady. She was curious about the Britannians' arrival and how it would affect you. Obviously a Seer wouldn't be much use in this situation so she sent me to survey."
"Nothing within the lines of stealing tech? Very unlike you."
"Believe me, I would love to get my hands on some of their toys if I could. Alas, we don't know enough about them to do so yet and my stay here is brief. My job is a glorified spot check on you and your motley crew."
"And?"
"You're doing adequately, for a whelp."
"What else?"
"That's it." he shrugged. "Unless there's something you're not telling me?"
"No," she said, looking back at the display. "There's nothing. We will proceed as planned."
"Very well then. Nice meeting you, Cinder. I'll take my leave." He walked away and soon, he disappeared into the sea of bodies.
"Cinder?" asked Emerald, slowly approaching her leader.
"It's fine. How much time do we have left?"
"About ten minutes, boss lady. Everything alright?"
"I said it's fine," she insisted. "Come, let's see something else." As she walked off, the three teammates followed behind. "Something's definitely on her mind," noted Mercury. "Do you think it has something to do with the fight?"
"Probably. Noire, opinions?"
A pencil rapidly scrawled in a notebook that was shoved in front of them.
"Sootwings are cute? Really?"
"Whoa, what's that!?"
"Ruby, slow down! Don't pull me!"
"You guys having fun?"
"Gah!" Emerald's shoulders shot up, startled. "Don't do that!"
"Sorry," grinned a sharply dressed Lelouch, wearing his black and gold uniform. He adjusted a small, black shoulder cape attached to his left shoulder with a silver lanyard, wincing in slight pain. "Force of habit from training."
"What kind janky training did you go through?" snorted Emerald.
"Sorry. Trade secret," he winked, bringing a finger to his lips.
"Surely my worthy opponent could divulge?" Cinder asked as sashayed up to him from behind. "No need to be coy with us. You're with friends after all."
"I don't know what your definition of friend is," began Lelouch, turning to face her. "But I've met all of you only recently. Cinder here's the only one I met in person. And that was yesterday."
"Oh come on!" Cinder playfully whined, trailing her hand down his arm. "Not even for little old me?" She bat her eyelashes at him. And to her delight, she spotted his jaw clench ever so slightly. 'Oh, she's good.'
"What did I tell you?" whispered Mercury to Emerald. She nudged an elbow into his ribs. "Ow!"
"Cute," Lelouch neutrally replied, removing her hand and cradling it in his bandaged own. "Is this some sort of revenge for what happened earlier? In the infirmary? Because I see what you're doing. I know what you're doing." Crap, did he suspect something? An uncertain frown replaced her confident gaze.
"But at least let me treat you to dinner first or something, for Oum's sake." Which was then replaced by a slight balk with widened eyes. That was unexpected.
"Wait what?"
"The offer stands, love." Oh, what a spitfire she was. And what a pleasure it was to catch her on the back foot like that. "Now, I believe the lovely lady and her friends were going to see another part of the exhibition." He clapped his hands as he took a step back. "So allow me to be your guide for today. If you would please follow me on this brief tour." Noire happily skipped along as he walked off, followed by Mercury, doing his best to contain himself. Emerald went next, leading her stunned leader along. There was no doubt about it. She had her suspicions back at the nurse's office but seeing Cinder dazed out like this concluded it.
That boy was bad news. No doubt about it.
"So here's a portrait of the current royal family. Or at least the publicly known members. Big guy in the middle with the purple outfit is His Majesty, Emperor Charles. To his left, our right, is the Crown Prince…"
"Don't be so tense, Nate! I'm not an invalid!"
"Please sir, we need to maintain your security."
"Nathaniel, for the love of Durin, relax! We're in one of the most secure places for us, save the embassy itself!" insisted a male voice. "You can see trained fighters everywhere. Heck, I see one right now. Lelouch, my boy! How are you doing?"
"Hm?" The squire turned around. His gaze lit up with recognition as a roughly middle-aged man with maroon hair jovially walked up to him. "Mr Walken! Fancy seeing you today!"
"And why would that be?" he asked, shaking the squire's hand. "Spectacles like these can't be missed! And who are these people?"
"Some students from Haven that I'm taking around the place." He turned toward them as Cinder stepped forward.
"Pleased to meet you, Mr Walken. My name is Cinder Fall, leader of Team CMNE. Behind me is Mercury Black, Emerald Sustrai and Noire Spumoni."
"Spumoni. Like the dessert?"
"It's a long story."
"Ah, I won't pry into it then. Nonetheless it's a pleasure to meet all of you." He shook their hands with a friendly smile, which just unnerved the team of criminals.
"Do you have any duties to attend to?"
"As a matter of fact, I am. I'm supposed to help out at the history section."
"Well, I hope you enjoy yourself. Good to see you again, Lelouch!" They clasped hands and smiled at each other. "My regards to your team. And to you, fair Cinder, I hope you and your compatriots enjoy yourselves here." With that, he walked off, the bodyguards in tow.
"Well. That was nice. Now, where were we?"
-In another hallway-
"Whaddya think of this place, Perry?"
"I don't know, Jasp. All the pomp and circumstance irks me. Plus I think I saw the Schnee heiress here," replied the dog faunus. After their regrouping from the breach at the start of this week, they were instructed to lay low and gather intel, much to some of the more belligerent members' disappointment. Particularly on the new arrivals.
"C'mon, think about it!" said Jasper. She was a deer faunus with reddish-brown hair and chocolate brown eyes, which made her look really doe-like when she wanted. Ironically, she had a set of thin antlers growing out of her scalp.
'Isn't that supposed to be for males?' wondered Perry. He thought back to when he first questioned her about the animalistic trait and had received an embarrassed slap to the face for it. Though their friendship had patched up right after. And at least he found out.
She was completely cisgender.
'I don't know enough about genetics to even begin questioning it,' he concluded to himself.
"So, any plans for you? With the Britannians?"
"Come again?" Oh man, how long had he been distracted?
"I was asking if you planned to visit the place once visas are available. Since we don't have rights to free travel with them yet?"
"Maybe, now that you mention it." He replied after some musing. "Why? You interested?"
"A lot!" she agreed. "You know," she began, whispering to him as they walked past a suit of armour, "I thought being part of the Fang would help us. Or at least help me. But after what happened on Monday, I'm not so sure anymore. Besides, with new opportunities on the way, why stay?"
"But you know that the branch here isn't the most tolerant with members leaving!" he argued quietly. "With Nago gone and Adam at the branch heads' meeting, the leadership's sure to crack down on us now."
"I'll burn that bridge when I get there," she waved off. "Violence was never my thing anyway."
"But what about…" His argument died in his lips as a trio of men in suits walked across them at a junction in the walkway. A councilman and his detail. He recognised the politician's face from all the news reports. He waited until they were far enough to not eavesdrop before continuing. "All the people we've lost? We can't just leave them behind!"
"Look, Perry," said Jasper in a comforting voice. "I know you want to stay in the group if only to avenge our friends. I know you're grieving for our fallen comrades but they knew what they were getting into when they signed up. And we can't honour them if we stay any longer!" She argued. "With all that happened on Monday, I need to rethink my choices."
"...Fine," accepted the dog faunus. "I won't stop you."
"Aw, thanks you big softie!" She gave him a quick hug to comfort him and scowled when she saw that he was still frowning. "You know what? Clearly our brief experience has been too strenuous for either of us."
"Where are you going with this?" he asked, perplexed.
"How about you follow me? For that vacation?"
"I don't know…"
"Oh come on! The next big event's in autumn and we've got plenty of time!" she insisted. "And it'll help you gain some new perspective!"
"And how will we pay for this?" he asked. The accountant in him couldn't help but highlight the issue.
"Where else? Our pay," she pointed out. "All that dust we skimmed needs to be used somehow and it's way too much for just munitions and ordnance alone. And think about it, didn't they say at the recruitment that it pays well?"
"That's true…"
"So? What's holding you back?" she asked, bouncing with excitement. Wow, she really wanted to go and see the Faunus Kingdom.
"Alright. I'll come. But we need a valid excuse. Like a sick parent or civilian work or something."
"We'll work on it," she said. Then she grasped his hand. "Now come on! I want to see things!"
As he felt himself get pulled along by the eager doe, Perry chuckled with mirth. Perhaps he could afford to enjoy civilian life for a while.
"By the way, how do you know so much about dust and weapons?"
"A story for another time!"
Unbeknownst to them, one of the staff manning an exhibit overheard their conversation and narrowed his eyes. "Interesting. Boss'll want to hear this." He typed out a brief text on his scroll and snapped a photo of the two. Almost immediately after, it pinged with a new message.
"Acknowledged."
With a smirk to himself, he pocketed his scroll and turned back to the crowd, a big smile on his face. "Okay kids who likes fairy tales?"
-Temporary lecture room, Dell Convention Centre-
"Sit, students! Please sit!" called out Ruben. As the trainee huntsmen and huntresses, squeezed into the viewing hall and took their seats on plush blue folding chairs, the shutters to the panoramic window opened up, giving them a good view of the tarmac from their raised position. An eager and excited Ruby bounced with anticipation, barely held down by her half-sister. "Let's begin the tour shall we?" said Earl Ashford.
"The Ashford Consortium, formerly Ashford Industries, is a proud fellow of the Crown," he began. "We have been a part of groundbreaking discoveries over the years, be they solo projects or collaborations. But our crowning achievement, by far, is-"
A rumble shook their guts as the door of a nearby hangar slid open, revealing a purple and grey mech not unlike those that escorted them before. It trundled forward and slowed to a halt behind them, carrying the same rifle in its hands.
"A GIANT FREAKING ROBOT!" The class giggled at Nora's outburst as Ren pulled her down, trying to hush her excited squeals and sink into the crowd.
"The Knightmare Frame. KMF for short. The giant freaking robot as your friend so astutely put it."
Awed murmurs ripples through the cohort as they whispered and pointed at the metal giant. Ruben, proud as ever to show off his family's achievement, soaked in the adoration, especially from a few struggling to contain themselves. He promptly raised a hand and the crowd quietened down.
"What we see here is a fourth-generation frame, a mass-produced unit that our armed forces use. The RPI-13 Sutherland. 4.39 metres tall and weighing at 7.48 tonnes, this had been a trusty warhorse for our Knights for the past few years. Modular in function, it can fit multiple roles."
"What about the ones we saw earlier? The ones that were flying?"
"That's the RPI-14 Sutherland Angel. Fifth-generation. A more elite and specialised model that flies with the help of gravity dust drives, also known as Float Devices. However, both have the same type of engine, a Yggdrasil Drive and its Core Luminous."
"Weird names," commented Yang.
"I know, but I don't come up with them. The engineers do," shrugged Ruben. "Anyway, these frames are powered by energy fillers filled with Sakuradite and are armed with two Slash Harkens, a 10mm anti-personnel machine gun for defence and an assault rifle, chambered in 25mm rounds for effectiveness against both Grimm and man alike."
The bladed anchors rotated about their axles. The MG swivelled from its sponson and the frame made a show of unloading its magazine, showing the audience its deadly ammunition. "We've also got chaos mines and jousting lances but unfortunately we couldn't bring those to you today."
"Awww~!" whined the students.
"So how about we show you a tilt from a tourney a while back instead?"
"Yeaaaaahhhh!"
"Alright then! Let's get it set up!" He turned back to the Sutherland and touched a button on his speaker set. "Thank you, Suzaku. You can dismount now."
"Wait Suzaku?!"
The Sutherland gave a salute and the cockpit extended out its back, the hatch opening to reveal the brown-haired squire in his dress uniform. He gave a jolly wave before he put a foot on a silver stirrup that lowered him down while the window darkened.
"Welcome back to the 87th Imperial Joust! I'm your host, Harold Hutch, and we've got an exciting set of tilts for you today!"
bThe students clamoured in excitement as the camera panned down into a large, oval arena in a stadium with large, cheering crowds packed in the stands. 'Just like Amity will be in a few months,' mused Glynda.
"In the red corner, hailing from the city of Kislev, Valhalla, representing Drago Industries, give it up for Sir Alexei Barkov!"
The crowd cheered as a frame rolled out of the crimson gates. The Sutherland was painted in white and blue with one red pauldron. It bore a jousting lance, a massive weapon with a conical spearhead, and a ballistic shield which it held with its offhand.
"And in the blue corner, from Altdorf, representing the Ashford Consortium, Sir Jeremiah Gottwald!"
"Mister Gottwald?!"
"Oh, you know one of my champions?" asked Ruben.
"We ran into him in the convention center earlier," replied Weiss. Literally.
Gottwald's Sutherland rolled out in a purple and blue palette, wielding a lone lance, nary a defensive piece of equipment in sight.
"Now we see the two knights salute each other, as is custom. And now, for the bell…"
The stadium fell into a lull of silence, the two mechs aiming their weapons at each other. The shrill cry of the bell heralded a screech of tires and plumes of dust as the two shot off, speeding toward each other. Lances the colour of freshly made brass flashed toward their targets, dead set in smashing metal. Barkov's shield took the brunt of the damage, a rend gashed deep into its surface. Jeremiah, unmired by such weight, was more agile and twisted out of the way, letting the tip of his frame's pauldron take the hit. The two passed each other and righted themselves at the end of their charge, facing each other once more. Barkov drummed his lance on his shield, trying to goad the Mordian. All it garnered was a flourish of the lance before Jeremiah couched it under his arm. A twist of the frame's wrist activated the lance and its duelling spokes sprung out.
They charged again, clouds of sand thrown up in their wake. Jeremiah thrust once he was in range, and Barkov blocked, angling his shield upwards while he struck with his own spear. Gottwald, much to the Valhallan's annoyance, twisted himself away from the jab and bound his free hand on to the haft. He yanked both weapons, pulling Barkov's frame off balance and lowering his shield just enough, the spokes of his lance catching the shield's lip.
A slash harken shot out just as the two passed each other and sliced deep into a shoulder. As it retracted, it ripped the plating and wiring clean from the socket. Jeremiah, who watched from the back of the hall, grinned at the memory. 'Bloody iceboy was in over his head,' he amusedly said to himself. The cohort quietly gasped at the development, watching as Barkov's arm tore from his torso. The Valhalla smashed the butt of his haft down on his crouched opponent's shoulder, crumpling the metal. He swung his lance desperately like a club, warding the Mordian back. But the damage was done and now the red frame was left one arm less and unshielded. Its blue opponent, in contrast, was in near perfect condition, barring the crushed pauldron.
"Woah~!" gaped Ruby. That was quick!
The piece of mangled steel jettisoned with a puff of gas. Jeremiah lowered his lance, readying for a charge. In response, Barkov flourished as much as he could with one hand, defiant still. The blue knightmare surged forward, making its red counterpart brace for impact. But unexpectedly, the charging Titan of metal pivoted on a foot and twirled, making a full revolution before it threw the lance. Gasps rang out as it cleaved through the air, spearing Barkov's weapon and throwing it clean. In his shock, the Valhallan could not defend when Jeremiah descended on him, crushing his head with a stun tonfa.
"Winner! Jeremiah Gottwald!"
The knightmare kneeled and its cockpit opened, letting a younger Jeremiah with shorter hair stand and wave to the adoring crowd. "What a cutie!" whistled Yang. That sentiment was one shared by many others in the crowd. 'Not again,' bemoaned Jeremiah from the back of the hall. He spent many days as a flash and naive youth trying to escape the horde and now? His efforts were for naught.
"Yes, he's a real heartbreaker that Margave is," chortled Ruben from the sidelines. "Now," he said, pausing the video, "we'll be coming back to the Knightmares-"
"Yay!"
"-later in the tour when we reach the exhibits. Let's move onto a different topic for now. Grimm."
"YEAH!"
Eyes rounded towards the source near the back. The maroon, portly figure (an: geddit?) of Peter Port bounced up, arms thrust in the air with excitement. "Sit down sit down!" Dr Oobleck hissed at his colleague, trying to pull down the much bigger Grimm studies professor but to no avail. A light purple glow surrounded the teacher and Oobleck let go, watching his friend get lifted gently off the ground before he slammed back into his seat. "Will you sit still and behave from now on?" asked Glynda threateningly, tapping her riding crop in her hands. Port shook the tiny Nevermores circling his vision and shrunk in his seat, replying with a meek "yes ma'am".
"Good," she nodded. "Please continue, Mr Ashford."
"Thank you, Miss Goodwitch." Ruben clicked a button on his scroll and a new video popped up. "Now then. Let's start on the isles of Catachan, where we meet a wily species known as the Babi."
"Next, we will see an airshow."
"Cool!"
"Here we have our knightmare simulator. Complete with haptic feedback"
"COOL!"
"This is an aerotrim. We use it for turbulence training.
"COOL!"
"Who wants to go first?"
"ME!"
"And here we have the Squires' daily meditation chamber."
"COOL! But what's that smell?"
"Oh, it's frankincense."
"Next, we're going to see some tools that we use to train our Squires for their vocations. The first stop will be a modular environment simulator," spoke Ruben. They were walking across the tarmac, the sky thankfully overcast and eventually reached another hangar. Inside was a huge, white platform about the size of a city block, with stairs gently leading up to a large control platform on top. "Or as some of our squires call it, a parkour course, if I'm pronouncing that correctly."
"Parkour course?! Cool!" The students now stood in front of the artificial clearing behind a smile silver guardrail, consisting of white rectangular slabs. Ruben stood at a console in front and with a few swift keystrokes, awoke said slabs with a purple flash of light. "To improve our Squires' manoeuvrability in the field, Monastery commissioned a simulation engine. This work of art can generate virtually any environment. This is the result." A few more keystrokes and huge blocks rose out of the ground, taking the shape of a skyline, albeit a low one. Simulated "clouds" wafted around their feet as holograms of buildings shimmered into being around the constructs, blue frames taking shape before gaining colour. Soon, instead of a stark white room, they stood in front of a city block composed of light. "Say hello to the Avalon engine."
"Oum's pants!"
Yang had to physically restrain Ruby, whose eyes were wide and her mouth foaming in hysteria. With a flick of her wrist, Weiss pulled out a gravity glyph under them and held her leader in place. "Thanks Weiss!"
"No problem."
"Such enthusiasm warms my old heart," commented Ruben at the sight of the girl, who now settled with quivering in excitement. "Now then, why you see here is an urban simulation, a nondescript city with a few placeholder landmarks. Unfortunately, due to space constraints, we're not able to show its full potential today."
Ambient speakers piped in the raucous sound of cars horning, simulating the afternoon rush hour. A cold wind blew through the simulated concrete jungle via hidden fans and holograms of skyscrapers shone proudly and spired into the electric sky.
"However, we are making progress towards a fully hardlight version. Now then, our demonstrator should be here any minute. Where is he? Mister Lamperouge should be here by now."
"Yes, I do wonder where my elder brother is," a voice piped up from the middle of the crowd. Heads turned in surprise as the hooded figure of Rolo Lamperouge emerged from their midst, dressed in his battle gear. 'How did we miss that?' wondered Blake.
"Punctual as ever, Rolo," chuckled the old lord. To Glynda's mild surprise, the tone that Ashford used to address the youngest of the four boys was full of fondness. She half-expected him to dress down and humiliate the boy for the supposed show of arrogance and impudence in front of the guests. Such was the stereotype of anyone labelled as a "Noble" or the like, their pride so feeble that they refused to be in nothing but absolute control. Most of the time.
"My apologies, I was caught up in some other matters."
"No problem, my boy. Now if you would kindly?" He gestured to the awaiting audience in front of them. "But of course."
"So!" Rolo clapped his hands, gaining everyone's attention. "I hope you're enjoying the tour so far! For those that don't know me, name's Rolo! I'll be your guinea pig for this part of the tour."
He reached out to a rack behind him and presented a black set of straps that looked like a pair of suspenders. As he swiftly put it on with practised ease, Ruben continued to speak. "As Rolo here so elegantly put it, he will be providing a demonstration. The lakes and mountains behind the Citadel, our Headquarters, if you will, in the city of Carcassonne, are rich in gravity dust and for generations, Paladins have used it as their training grounds. Now, we are able to replicate such miracles of nature."
"This is our safety harness. Using pockets of gravity dust and a remote sensor attuned to the control panel, I can safely traverse this simulator," explained Rolo as he deftly hopped onto the railing and balanced on a tiptoe. "And not worry about becoming a smudge. So any questions?"
"Are you going to get down from there?" asked Weiss, concerned at the nonchalance.
"No, I am not," cheekily replied the boy. "If anything," he began, walking on the banister like a tightrope, "I'm going to stay up here to show you how confident I am in this system."
"Careful now, Rolo," cautioned the Lord Ashford as he stepped up to him. "Pride before the-"
The boy was shoved off his tiny platform and plummeted past the barrier.
"-fall."
Ruby shrieked at her friend's peril and the other students gawked and clamoured, standing stock-still in shock. Did he just? No way. He can't be dead, right?
"What is the meaning of this?!" demanded the vice headmistress, storming up to the lord. Britannian he may be, but Rolo was her student! She would not stand for this!
"I'm proving a point," the earl calmly said. For someone that sent a child to their death, he may as well have been talking about the weather. Glynda snarled and was about to devolve into a whirlwind of curses in front of her students when a voice piped in. "I'm alright Miss Goodwitch!"
Glynda's fury flickered like a candle flame, her mind processing the sudden turn of events. She shot a glare at Ruben before walking over to the edge. Peering over the railing, she saw Rolo sprawled out midair, his harness dotted with glowing purple all over.
"My apologies for the shock Miss Goodwitch. We were merely demonstrating the effectiveness of our safety measures." With the push of a button, Rolo was lifted back up to the railing, where he perched on it like a branch. "Surely you can understand."
"...While I disapprove of your methods," ground out Glynda, rubbing the bridge of her nose, trying to dissipate her anger, "it is not the worst I have seen. You may continue." The image of her boss, happily drinking his coffee as potential students screamed through the air came to mind.
"Thank you for your understanding," nodded the Earl. "As you can see everyone, Avalon's safety systems are foolproof! Using the gravity dust, we are able to catch anyone that falls in this arena, safety harness or otherwise. Said harness merely allows its user extra safety and autonomy while practicing. Now then, how about we show you a quick course? Rolo, are you up for it?"
"Always am, Mr Ashford," readily answered the faunus. He dismounted from the railing and promptly zipped over to a building glowing green with a burst of wind. Once he landed, he gave a quick wave to the elderly lord. "Right. Now that Mr Lamperouge is in position, we can begin." A chain of buildings lit up in a gentle pink hue, contrasting with the shiny silver and blue architecture. At the end of the chain, a red ring flowed in the middle of a "park".
"This will be a simple manoeuvrability exercise. Rolo has to get from point A, the green building, to point B, the red ring, as fast as he can." As he said this, the young faunus zipped over to the starting point. "Are you ready?" he called out.
"As I'll ever be!" hollered back Rolo. With a nod, Ruben pressed a button on the control panel and a digital display came out, flashing out eight big, blocky zeroes in electric red, with three circular lights on top. A similar display, though larger in size, flashed to life in the artificial sky.
"On your mark!" The first light flashed green and Rolo stilled his breathing, eyes squinting as he took up a sprinter's position. Little did anyone see the sly glint in the Earl's eye as he pushed a button. 'Nothing like a little challenge.'
"Get set!" He arched his hip up as the second light came on, the audience watching in curiosity.
"GO!"
-Britannian exhibit, History section-
Lelouch waved off another tour group with a textbook smile. As they walked off, he spied a staffer walk over just as his scroll chimed out an alarm. With a glimmer of hope, he cycled one arm over the other with clenched fists and a questioning look. The staffer answered with a nod and Lelouch's face lit up in quiet delight. Shift change, hell yeah! With a little wave, he handed his post over and happily strolled off to a well-deserved break.
Not that he minded talking about his homeland. It was fun talking to the curious people, especially to the children with all their wonder in their eyes. But pray tell, how does one explain the intricacies and nuances of imperial succession and the royal family? Without making your head of state sound like an inbred?
It was near-bloody-impossible to. Especially when he had to factor in the G-rated filters for the children. He sighed but quickly rid himself of the complaints. He could take pride in the fact that he covered his job well and celebrate that after this, all his other posts were way easier. Relatively.
Lucky ass prick, that Gino was. Getting assigned the Grimmology exhibit. And here he was, stuck with the history and culture section. Well, at least he wasn't singled out to be Ruben's guinea pig for the student tour. He chuckled sordidly at the thought of his brother's plight.
"And speak of the devil, there is that blonde asshole now." He approached one of the many catering booths throughout the convention, this one being rather large with standing tables for its patrons and on an elevated platform about a storey tall, with an escalator and a flight of steps for access, the latter elegantly decorated with a few potted plants. The Weinberg stood at one such table and was giggling to himself, swiping through his scroll while sipping from a cup of coffee.
"So a regular Friday then," he said to himself as he approached his teammate from behind. Years of training kicked in, silent footsteps bringing him closer to his target with such ease that he may as well be gliding. Closer and closer still, he was almost there. Just a little further...
"Whose heart are you breaking this week?" he spoke into Gino's ear, lips nearly grazing it. Said Weinberg sputtered out his coffee in surprise and dropped his scroll onto the table in surprise. His arm whipped around in retaliation but Lelouch was already out of range and holding his wrist.
"Scheiße, man. Do you have to do that?" scowled the tallest member as he wiped the small mess with a nearby napkin. "Do you have to scroll through dating sites now?" retorted Lelouch. He nabbed a bottle of water from the table and drank, eyeing his friend smugly.
"Whatever man," harrumphed Gino. He closed the scroll smoothly with one hand and turned to fully face his teammate. "So? How was your end?"
"It went well enough," Lelouch neutrally responded. But Gino knew. Oh, he knew. For that tired wince in the Lamperouge's eye meant something else.
"Right and the Empire's a democracy. So tell me, what was the problem?" pressed Gino. "Fangirls? Reporters? Snooty Atlesians? Ah wait! Don't tell me! Academy students who think they're better than you with thinly veiled racism!"
"...Kids," grunted out Lelouch in annoyance.
"Ahhh~," understood Gino. "So filter and translation issues?"
"You have no idea."
"Chin up, dude!" consoled Gino. "We'll get better with time. Besides, we were mainly expecting academia and bureaucrats, not kindergarten and primary level."
"Fair enough, I suppose," drawled the Leader. He was so, so exhausted. And it was only the first shift!
"Well, with any luck, the school kids will vacate here by the end of the second shift," supposed Gino. Sensing the mild distress of his leader, he offered his cup. "Here you have the rest."
"You sure?"
"It's complimentary, I can always get another,'' he shrugged. He turned towards the rest of the convention centre. "So. Quite a view huh?"
"It sure is," muttered Lelouch, sipping on the brew. He welcomed the rush of flavour, energy and the burning pain on his tongue that shocked him awake.
"Better?"
"Very much, thanks," gratefully said the Lamperouge.
Lelouch surveyed the expanse before him. Hundreds of civilians, milling about between the hallways and booths of the convention centre. In the distance, he could hear the roar and screech of jet engines high above. His gaze focused on a group going up a travelator, bound for a big black tube of unintelligible construction material that stuck out like a sore thumb. A moving gallery, the lord Ashford has called it, complete with a narrator and immersive videos meant to summarise Britannian culture and history. Apparently, the students would be sent a copy of the video played inside, or a summary at least. Then they would be quizzed on it the coming Friday.
Poor bastards. Getting tested on a field trip.
'Maybe I'll go over there later, if time permits,' mused Lelouch. Then, he spotted the familiar figure of the Earl. And next to him was Rolo, with a girl on his arm? He pulled out his scroll and zoomed in with the camera. Yep that blob of black was definitely a girl. Man she was short. He snickered and snapped a photograph, vowing to hold onto that just in case. Spying through the screen he spotted team CMNE behind them. And even further back, team JNPR and RWBY, talking amongst themselves. In short, a regular field trip.
'As regular as adolescent pseudo-super soldiers can get,' he added. "See something you like Lelouch?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," replied Lelouch. There was absolutely nothing wrong or suspicious with what he was doing.
"Alright, then," challenged Gino. "Who is your camera centred on?"
"Rolo, obviously," pointed out Lelouch, looking behind him. Who else would it be?"
"Check again, marksman," smirked Gino, standing behind him and looking over his shoulder. "Your aim is off."
Lelouch looked back at the screen, sure as hell that he was trained on his brother as his mother was Elysian. To his surprise, Gino was telling the truth.
"I don't blame ya," appreciatively whistled Gino. "That girl is smoking! Look at those legs, those eyes! That confidence! Though, I guess you would be attracted to her, given that you got up close and personal with her today and yesterday and that she seems to be your type."
"How the hell would I have a type?" lightly demanded Lelouch, snapping his scroll shut before Gino could reach over and do something.
"Everyone does at some point dude," shrugged Gino. "And you've got some good taste, I'll admit that."
"Whatever," scoffed Lelouch, turning away.
"You know, I got a pic of her earlier," Gino said with faux indifference as he turned away as well. He held back a cheeky giggle when he spotted his leader's ears perked up. "Oh yeah. It's a good one indeed! Shame that I've no one to share this with." Come on, come on. Take the bait!
"Fine, fine!" resigned Lelouch, turning over to him. "Lemme see!"
Score 1 for the Weinberg!
"Alright, you can see, IF you agree to do something for me," began Gino smugly. A favour from Lelouch was something, he learnt over the years, to be treasured.
"One thing before we reach this agreement," he said, placing a hand on the blonde's shoulder.
"Which is?"
"Heed me."
-Moving Gallery-
"Stupid inclement weather," grumbled Rolo. His midnight blue hoodie was dark with moisture and his hair was drenched. It was supposed to be a simple swing through the city! Nothing else. "InClEMent wEATher is NoThing for a top notch student like you!" he crudely and quietly imitated. He shot daggers at the Earl, who led the group through a large, dark hallway with a travelator in the main building.
A shaking in his arm drew his attention, his gaze turning to the girl that clung onto it like a limpet. As he suspected, she was trying to get his attention, green eyes shining with mischief in a pearly white grin. Though it was kind of hard to see in the low light. "What?" he gruffly asked, the prior events souring his mood.
The contrast between the ambient, low light and the brighter screens that played whatever informative video made her attempt of an answer nearly unintelligible, the elaborate gestures of sign language almost reduced to random waving. Even with his faunus senses, Rolo just barely understood what she was saying.
"Something...something...something...today?"
She pouted and tried again, going through each word slowly, enunciating, if one could enunciate sign language.
"Weren't...to...on a...trip today?" he poorly translated. Before she could try again, he grew frustrated and held her hand. "Just use my scroll, Noire," he asserted. "The lights here aren't helping at all." He pressed his scroll into her hand, unlocked and on the notepad app.
Her shoulders heaved in a simulation of a sigh of relief and her fingers flew across the screen. In seconds, her question was finished. "Weren't we supposed to go out on a date today?" he read aloud.
"I'm pretty sure promising to buy me a scroll and ice cream counts as a date," she argued, quirking her eyebrow as Rolo read through it.
"Yeah~, that was my mistake," he admitted. "Sorry but I kinda forgot that today was the exhibit. I don't know how long you'll be here but I'm stuck with the exhibits all day, so I can't make it."
"Can we try next week? Monday perhaps? I know for sure that I've got nothing after classes so we can go down to the city in the evening," he suggested.
Noire made a show of considering it, putting a finger on her chin and tilting her head up. Shortly after, she nodded in agreement. "Alright! It's settled then," she tapped out. "But I better see you then, dum dum!"
"Okay, okay," he grinned. "But why dum dum?"
"Just go with it."
"Alright, fine. Can you let go of my arm now?"
"No."
Further towards the back of the group, a familiar quartet were trying to pay attention to the video and the short lecture by the earl.
Keyword being trying. Turns out Ruby was easily excitable. And an excited Ruby Rose was a talkative Ruby Rose.
"That was awesome!" gushed Ruby. The group was currently on a "video tour", the moving mat beneath bringing them through a dark tunnel illuminated by huge screens on either side, detailing different aspects of the Fifth Kingdom's culture.
"I know Ruby," tiredly said Weiss. "You've said it for the fifth time already." She wanted to hear whatever the Earl was talking about now. But nooo, her partner just had to prattle on about the Avalon.
"That's because it was so cool!" insisted Ruby, eyes gleaming with admiration. "I know right?!" joined Nora. "He was all like PSCHEW! A-and ZIP! And-"
"Okay, okay, we get it!" interrupted Yang, slapping a hand over their mouths. "You're amazed by the display. Ruby, why don't you tell him about that and how happy you were? After all, weren't you worried about him, with your screaming and all?"
Ruby's expression soured at that suggestion. "I would, but…" her sentence was left unfinished as she glowered. The seven others followed her line of sight and spotted the subject of conversation at the head of the group, talking with a short girl hanging on his arm with a carefree smile.
"Oh~?" asked Yang, the traces of a teasing smile already forming. "Is someone jealous?"
"I'm not jelly!" denied Ruby, red with embarrassment.
"Don't fight it, Ruby," played along Blake, "Denial is the first step on the road to acceptance."
"Isn't that for grief?"
"Shut up, Yang."
"Shutting up."
"Besides, my dear leader," cut in Weiss with an eerie grin on her face, "I heard that the stress from constant denial can lead to you breaking out." She leaned in closer. "You don't want to go back to being crater face, do you?"
"Hey, did Weiss just…?"
"Yeah, I think she did."
"That's not the point!" Ruby argued back.
"Yeah, the point is that you don't want to admit that you're sweet on Rolo," snickered Yang.
"Can we just stop?!"
"We should probably start paying attention."
Lelouch rested against the wall of the convention centre, watching the sky melt into a warm swirl of yellows, reds, oranges and various other colours. As he chewed on a little sandwich he snatched on the way out, he eyed the trail of civilians filing out the hall.
Genial smiles. Generally positive feedback. Zero negative incidents. All in a good day's work.
Looking up, he mused about his family back home, direct and otherwise. Little Nunna was probably in the middle of a school day, prepping herself for her final exams. Grandmother would be at home, looking after the estate with grandfather. His elder siblings were all off, surely in the thick of whatever political business they had to attend to today, with father at the helm, guiding them all.
He briefly frowned at the thought of mother. Looking back up at the sky, he sighed. 'Mother would've loved to see this,' he ruminated, free hand reaching up to the dog tags on his necklace. 'Wished you were here mom.'
His scroll buzzed in his pocket and he whipped it out. "Lamperouge speaking."
"Really?"
"Interesting."
"Do we have profiles on them yet?"
"We should be careful about that then."
"No, I don't think so. But I'll check."
"Oh yeah, definitely!"
"Nothing else right?"
"Cool, thanks. Goodbye."
Snapping his scroll shut, he pocketed it and pushed off the wall. As he strolled towards the subway station, he continued his train of thought from before. "Given that we have a one week break before the start of the festival, I think I'll pay her a visit. We've got a whole term's worth of time here anyway."
-Pioneer Manor-
"Take this info to Guido and the Don. And bring him an aspirin too. They've been working late again."
The instructions resonated in Finn's head as he navigated through the lavish hallways of Monty's mansion, the HQ of the Pioneers on a Friday night. Well, Saturday morning. That huge grandfather clock in the pavilion had struck 2 in the morning just ten minutes ago. A few hours to go and the sun would rise. In his hands he carried a tray with a glass of water, a pill, newspapers and most importantly, an envelope with the latest info on the MF. Courtesy of Janus. As he rounded the corner towards the oaken doors to Monty's private study, he let his mind wander.
Those Midnight Fang guys sure did a number on them. And such short notice too. Knocking out a distribution centre for their Snow shipments? Crazy. But they did it. Swiftly putting away two lieutenants? A major loss to the organisation, each of them were. Sure, the Lieutenants, Cadres, Capos, or whatever you called them, numbered in the dozens in a gang of hundreds. And sure, some had more importance than others, like the boss's friend Winston. But with each lieutenant controlling a small portion of their territory, the boss made sure that no one had enough power on their own to usurp him while having a tighter grip than their competitors, like the Southsiders or the Galassias. 'That is until that Torchprick came along and pulled a huge lump of territory under him. With so little people too!"
Nonetheless, to take down such high ranking members with such ease was frightening. And those crystal mask wearing creeps did all that and more. According to the intel that Guido had pumped out, they were mercs under Torchwick, used to hold his turf while he was stuck with those Atlesians with icicles up their cracks.
'Wait. Why don't we just outbuy Torchwick? They're just mercenaries! Then we could have them work for us!' Finn's idea came to him like a slap in the face. And in good timing too. Or he would've walked into the doors. He knocked at the imposing entryway, his knuckles rapping hollowly against the deeply varnished wood.
"Don? I've got some MF stuff for you." He paused, waiting for the door to unbolt and clunk open or for an order to enter. And so he stood. For a whole minute. 'Maybe they didn't hear me.' He could hear the TV inside drone on and on about something but he couldn't make out a thing. He set the tray down and knocked again. "Don? Guido? You there?" he called, louder this time. Maybe they didn't hear him. Or maybe they went out.
"Yeah, Marley? Finn here. Could you check if the Don is still in the study? Did he leave recently?" He called the guard who was manning their cameras at the moment. "He didn't? You sure? 'Kay, thanks."
"Yo, what's going on here?" Finn turned to look at a pair of guards on patrol. "Nothing much. Just need to deliver some things for the Don. Neither he nor Guido are answering the door though."
"Try again, maybe?" suggested one.
"I already did. You didn't see them exit right?"
"Nope. Not a clue," answered the other.
"Never mind then. Thanks anyway boys."
As the two patrolmen began to turn away, an iconic *BANG* echoed out in the hallway.
"What the?!" Three heads whipped towards the double doors and grew to the size of dinner plates. "Shit, the Don!"
The three gangsters crowded at the door. "Lemme shoot out the lock!" said one, reaching for his pistol. "Handguns won't work! We need to barge through!" The doors began to thump and rattle as Finn rammed his shoulder into them. "Get me something to bust this down, now!" As one guard ran off to find some makeshift bartering ram, the other tried to bust down the portal with Finn, the two kicking and throwing their weights against the doors.
"I got something!" The third guard had returned, bringing along three other men. In his arms was a tall coat rack. "Clear out!" The two stood back as he braced it on the margin between the two doors. "Ready!" The five others formed up behind him, couching the stand under their arms.
"Pull!" As one, the pulled stand back.
"Push!" And as one, they rammed it into the doors. "I think I heard something!"
"Again!"
The second hit shook the doors and rattled the bolts, the sound of wood cracking encouraging them.
"Again!"
The third hit made the doors budge, caving inwards but not breaking. A testament to their strength and craftsmanship. But they heard the creaks and pops of its hinges warping under the impact.
"Again!"
The fourth hit proved too much. The wood creaked, cracked and splintered upon impact, the bolting mechanism shearing through the oak and sending splinters flying everywhere. The doors swung open from the force and the six men dropped the coat rack with a clatter, storming the room with guns drawn and aimed.
"Don! You alright?!"
The L-shaped room was silent and clear of enemies, the smell of old books, alcohol, tobacco and gunpowder lingering in the air. And in front of them, prone on the floor were Guido and the Don, the former groaning and with a hand near his pistol which wisped with smoke. The other was unresponsive, a spilled glass of alcohol near his hand. Both were red in the face and audibly wheezing, with flecks of blood around their mouths. Around them were scattered documents and other paraphernalia. As the others approached the face down patriarch, Finn focused on the man's personal muscle.
"Guido, what happened?!" Finn holstered his gun and crouched next to the bodyguard, whose face was scrunched in agony, forehead red and sweaty. He felt hot to the touch.
"H-help the boss," he wheezed out. He hacked out a wet cough and blood spurted. "Get an ambulance. Now!" As one scampered off to alert the rest of the mansion and get help, Finn's attention was drawn by Guido's shaky hand, which reached inside his breast pocket and pulled out a black rectangle in a small ziplock bag. "What's this?"
"MF," coughed Guido. "MF *wheeze* poison. Tell *wheeze* Janus. Tell the family." Finn's eyes widened with trepidation as he gingerly took the card and flipped it over, the grinning wolf's skull looking back at him. "I will Guido. But stay with me, help's almost here!"
"Good *wheeze* kid," sputtered the bodyguard. His eyes began to droop and his neck lost strength, Guido's head beginning to loll to the side.
"Guido? Guido I need you to stay with me here!"
"So...tired."
"Come on, now's not the time! Stay awake!" Finn's voice grew in concern as he gently slapped Guido's cheek.
The poisoned henchman coughed out some more blood before his eyelids fell shut.
"Guido? Guido!" Finn shook the unconscious man desperately. "We can't let you go yet!"
He turned to the open door, where more
men were gathered. "Where's that damned medic?!"
-Beacon, foreign student dorms, Team LRGS-
It was half-past six in the morning when Rolo woke up, a sunbeam in his eye forcing him to rise from his bed. He got up and blinked the sleep from his eyes. He turned himself over, tucked his knees into his chest, rested on his shins and stretched on his bed, reaching forward and groaning as he felt his spine pop. He stood from his bed and snatched up the bottle he left on the bedside table, drinking greedily. He-
The door to the bathroom creaked open and a screeching saxophone blared. Steam wafted out as Lelouch stepped out in a pair of boxers. "Oh, you're finally awake!"
"Finally?" yawned Rolo. "It's like six thirty."
"Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise," Lelouch sagely quoted, drinking a bottle of milk.
"Early to rise, early to bed, makes a man healthy but socially dead," retorted Rolo. "Besides, you slept at like eleven."
"Twelve. And I have a social life," added his older brother, shrugging on a singlet. "But touché nonetheless. And that's why I'm going to pass out now. Goodnight."
True to his word, he finished the rest of his milk, placed it next to his bed, and promptly flopped onto the mattress with a bodily thump. Rolo wasn't buying it.
"You do know he woke up at three right?" spoke up Suzaku. The young samurai was meticulously cleaning his katana with a white cloth, stained with black splotches of soot. "He went for a run in like, full kit."
"I bet he's faking it though," asserted Rolo. He poked his brother's ribs. "Lelouch." Nothing. "Lelouch, stop it. You can nap later." Still nothing. "Lelouch, Nunna what's to play dress up."
"Mm. Tell her to go pester grandma about it. Leave me be," Lelouch muttered, still asleep.
"Oh dang," admitted Rolo, surprised. "He really is that tired." That trick normally works too.
"Come on, leave him to sleep," said Suzaku, pulling on a t-shirt. "Let's get breakfast then we can screw around in town."
"Fine. But I'm gonna change," said Rolo, grabbing some clothes from a dresser. "By the way have you seen Gino around? I want to drag him along."
"I think he went to do his 'morning routine'." Rolo nodded in understanding. His partner did mention how it would be later than usual this Sunday morning. He was just thankful the blonde didn't decide to do it in their room.
The acoustics here were too damn good for their health anyway.
-Meanwhile-
Weiss woke up to the chirping of birds. Stretching her arms, she sat up and got out of bed, taking in the beautiful sunrise. In her white nightgown, she opened the windows, taking in the crisp morning air and held out a hand. To her delight, a cute little bluejay perched on her index finger and whistled out a tune. Content, she warbled out her own little aria, trying her best to match the bird's. It chirped happily and sang back. Back and forth, they went, "conversing" to each other. Now if only Weiss could understand the bird, her morning would be set.
They were broken out of their chain by a rumbling in the distance. Strange, it wasn't regular. It was hitting peaks and troughs through its run. It sounded like…
'...a song?'
She leaned out the window, careful not to tip over the edge, and looked around for the mystery singer. She could make out a blob far away, a silhouette standing atop a ridge in the middle of the Emerald Forest. Alas, too far away for any details. As she squinted at the figure, with the bluejay still perched on her, she noticed as it puffed out its chest. 'Guess I should cover my ears then,' she said to herself as she eased herself back inside.
She expected a pleasant voice to echo through the valley, perhaps loud but easy on the ears. Maybe serving as a good wake up call to her teammates, who still slumbered.
What she, nor anyone for that matter (save three), did not expect was a belted segment that roared through the woods and hit Beacon full force. What was that thing Ruby showed her the other time? The thing apparently popular right now online, with the kids down in Mantle?
'Oh right,' recalled Weiss. 'Bass-boosting.'
The song rang in her ears as she got thrown back from the window by the blast. The bluejay chirped in distress as it swiftly flew up and away. Her guts shook from the rumble of the singer's voice. And she was not the only one.
Ruby awoke with a startled yelp, hitting her head on the ceiling. Her bed fell to the floor with a crash and her with it, the hoistings shaken loose from their anchors.
Blake, poor girl with her sensitive ears, yowled out in surprise, bouncing up and smacking the bed on top of her. She flipped onto the floor and rolled, desperately trying to block out the noise with a pillow.
Yang awoke similarly to her sister, sans falling out of her bed. That was quickly ratified when she was unexpectedly hit from the back, her mattress heaving her up and off its surface, leaving the blonde stunned at the rude awakening.. She rolled off the bed in a daze, one hand still held onto her blanket. And, as is protocol in such situations, she bundled herself mid fall and fell on top of Blake with a bodily "oof!" Nearby, she heard the crackle of something breaking. And she looked up. Did the window just crack?
Fortunately for them, the song stopped shortly after. Surprised and indignant cries rang through the dorms of the Beacon students. "Please let that be it," groaned Ruby as she sat up, head spinning.
Unfortunately, fate is cruel. "GOOD MORNING BEACON~!"
The figure's greeting barreled into the dormitory like a truck, the girls bodily blown back by the volume (in both literal and metaphorical senses) of the voice. And the window broke. Great. "My ears!" cried Blake.
Thankfully no one was hurt. Badly, at least. "That's it!" stormed Yang, marching up to the window. "No one messes with my beauty sleep! You know how long it takes for my hair to stay the way it is?!" Bits of rubble slowly loosed themselves from her locks as she indignantly stood at the broken window, uncaring of the shattered panes. "Hey! Asshole! Any idea what time it is?!" she cried out, eyes red and hair just barely smouldering.
"He's on the ridge! Two o'clock!" snarled Weiss, vying for her own pound of flesh. The two irate girls turned their vision to the target. But, to their frustration, the mystery man was long gone.
"Looks like we were too slow," remarked Blake, looking like death. "We'll get him next time," she assured her partner. Her piece said, the Belladonna crawled back into the sheets and curled up, drifting off to sleep.
"I damn well will!" swore Yang, turning away from the window in a huff. She was broken from her angered musings by a big quart-sized jar shoved into her face. Facing her was a page of a notebook, torn off and stuck to the glass with a strip of tape. And on the paper, scrawled in her sister's chicken scratch of handwriting, in big, bold, fluorescent letters were words "POTTY MOUTH".
"Really?" asked Yang with a cocked eyebrow. "We're doing this again?"
"Dad said so," answered Ruby playfully. The smug little sh- twerp, Yang corrected herself- had a predatory grin on her face. Not wanting to argue this early in the morning, she sighed in resignation and rummaged in her bag, dropping one lien into the container.
"Swear jars aside," stepped in Weiss, hair a mess and nightgown crumpled, "We should call Professor Ozpin about this. I don't think any of us want to step on broken glass."
"Seconded," groaned Blake. She blinked the sleep from her eyes and glanced over to the other end of the room. "God, what happened over there?"
"The bed came loose," sighed Weiss, rubbing a temple. "Shouldn't we be using stronger stuff to hold it up?" asked Yang.
"You try explaining that to Ruby." She had tried to reason with the Rose but she was as stubborn as a mule when it came to the topic, for some contrived reason.
"She won't budge, not even after...that time."
"Stereo incident?"
"Stereo incident."
Let's get this party started!
"Reasons aside, we should get all of this fixed as soon as possible," decided Blake. "And try to help one another while we're at it."
"Great idea. I'll get Ruby to guide us through the bed. I'm sure she wouldn't mind. Isn't that right Ruby?"
…..
"Ruby?"
The sound of running water was their answer.
The three girls turned around and saw their bathroom door closed shut, with steam wafting through the gap. "That sneaky, little bi-"
-Grand Peak Hotel, Upper-Class district-
"So, Oak. How do you like the new look?"
The boar faunus looked himself over in the mirror, trying to get used to the heavy, itching feeling of glass on one's eyeballs. He had spent the past few hours stuck in a chair while this lady, Walken's secretary, gave him, in the words of his new "boss", a makeover. She even removed his tattoo!
Gods, he would miss it.
She looked like one of those prim and proper types, kind of like a librarian if she weren't so young. She was what, twenty four? That was nearly his age! Yet she was way more professional that anyone he'd seen of the same age and had the same stick up her ass that most Atlesians had. At least, that was his first impression. Turns out this demure, twin braids-at-the-front gal with big round glasses and purple hair was sharp, witty. And efficient. Scarily so. She also had a great bod, though he wouldn't be caught dead saying that. With the dead look she would sometimes have in her eye, he did not want to mess with her. That and his mother raised him better than that.
In his defence though? The pencil skirt and business jacket and pumps and stockings filled in the secretary archetype perfectly.
Breaking away from his thoughts on the lady, who was currently behind him, jacket discarded and white shirt sleeves rolled up to her elbows. His already short black hair had been trimmed and bleached, transforming his head into a platinum blonde crew cut. He squinted at his reflection through a new pair of black rectangular spectacles. Purely cosmetic, he was assured. And the eyes that stared back at him weren't forest green but a muddy brown instead. Oum, the feeling of glass on your eye was really uncomfortable. How did people wear these?
"Looks alright," he judged, turning his head from side to side. "It's going to be weird seeing this in the mirror, though."
"You'll get used to it," she told him, neatly tidying up the bathroom. "How about your cover sheet? Any progress there?"
"It goes, I guess," he sheepishly admitted, standing up from his stool and taking off the towel wrapped around him. "Still getting used to the new identity and stuff."
"It's alright," she comforted, sweeping up hair clippings. "It comes with time. How about you let me hear it?"
"You sure?"
"Absolutely," she insisted, wiping off the seat. She perched on it, crossing one leg over the other with a clipboard and pencil in hand. "Treat it like an... interview, if you will."
"Here I go then..." he accepted. He cleared his throat, straightened out his undershirt and nodded to show he was ready.
"Who are you?"
"My name is Baron Birch. Call me Barry."
"How old are you?"
"26 years old."
"What do you do for a living?"
"I'm part of Mister Walken's security detail."
"Where are you from?"
"A village in the Duchy of Britannia, 30km from the city of Wolfenburg."
"Any relatives?"
"Just my nan and me. Parents passed away some time ago."
"Hobbies?"
"Whittling, reading and boxing."
"What company are you a part of?"
"Walken Tech."
"AEH!" she cried out, imitating a game show buzzer. "So close, but so far! It's Systems, Barry," she corrected.
"Damn!" he cursed.
"Don't feel too bad," she comforted as she slid off the stool. "You're getting better at it. That's something you should be proud of. Especially since we started yesterday. You're at 6 out of 50 at the moment."
"Thanks," he said with a small smile. "I was really trying."
"I can see that," she smiled demurely at him. "You'll get it by next week," she said, tapping the board on his broad chest.
"Is that encouragement or an order?" he asked jokingly. "Yes," she replied back in deadpan. He stared at her, into her big, round, wireframe glasses, the mental game of chicken well underway.
How she could keep such a straight face was beyond him and he snickered in defeat, causing her to lightly giggle in turn.
"I'll make sure to do so," he said, reining himself in.
"And I'll hold you to that," she nodded with a smile. She turned around and began to walk out the bathroom door. "Get back to studying! We'll try again tomorrow! And don't remove anything for at least an hour, you need to get used to it!"
"I won't let you down, Miss Cisneros," he promised.
"Oh Birchy, what have I told you?" she mirthfully asked, brushing one of her two braids back to look at him. "Call me Roberta."
-Beacon General Hospital-
"Well doctor?" asked Finn. The blonde youth had his blazer off and the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up. His tie was loosened and black eyes stared at the doctor before him
"Mr Di Angelo is very lucky," the paediatrician said. "His immune system is strong. It held off the poison enough for us to stabilise him. That said, he'll have to be under our care so that we can flush his system. According to my toxicologist friend, the damned stuff did a number on him."
"What are the symptoms?"
"His airways closed up, he's running a fever and heavy sweating as well as red skin. You said that they coughed blood, correct?"
"Yeah."
"Alright, just wanted to confirm." The doctor swiped through his tablet-sized scroll and pulled up the Don's profile.
"What about the boss?" asked Finn.
"We're getting to that," said the doctor. "Now, Mr Montagna-"
"Don Monty," corrected Marley. He adjusted the square glasses in front of his green eyes. His dark green hair, usually in a neat ponytail, was left free, flowing down to his shoulders, pooling on top of his brown polo shirt.
"-Don Monty. Pardon my slip up," replied the doctor. "The Don is worse off, unfortunately. Poor health and age have left him vulnerable. And the toxin wreaked havoc on him. Similar symptoms but exacerbated, as well as fluid in the lungs. We're in the process of draining them."
"How long will he be here?" asked a new voice. The trio turned to look and saw Janus walking down the hallway, flanked by two men in suits.
"Finn, Marley," nodded the gangster. "Wu."
"Healthy as always, Winston," greeted Doctor Wu as they shook hands. "If only these were better circumstances."
"If only, my friend," said Janus. "Now as you were saying?"
"Right. Don Monty will be here for the near future so that we can properly treat him and clear the toxin from his system. An optimistic estimation of his tenancy here would be around a month. Assuming everything goes well of course," explained the doctor. "Unfortunately, all that smoking, eating and drinking has put him at risk. We currently have him on life support. IV, ventilators, the whole package."
"I'll see to it that his health improves then," muttered Janus.
"Please do," said Doctor Wu, scrolling to the next page. "On that end, I'm having a friend in cardiology do a check on him tomorrow."
"Much appreciated. Now, what can you tell us about the poison?"
"According to the toxicology report," said Doctor Wu as he opened the document, "the poison bears some similarity to the ricin toxin found in castor beans, so thankfully we could hold it back before it hurt him anymore. Unfortunately, other than that we do not know of its origin. We're currently working on an antidote. Handy of you to have a sample on hand, as surprising as that may be."
"May I have a sample of it?"
"By all means, Winston," answered the doctor. "Just follow me to my office afterwards. I trust no one will hear of this?"
"As always," said Janus. He turned to the four men. "You boys can keep a secret can't you?"
"Of course we can Janus," replied Finn.
"Good lad."
"If I may," butt in the doctor, "Will the Don's next of kin be coming to visit? In the unlikely event that…"
"They will come," answered Janus, saving Wu the burden of having to suggest the Don's passing. "I'll be sure to inform his son and his brother-in-law. They should arrive by this evening."
"Thank you. Now if you would follow me to-" Wu's scroll pinged with a notification and he clicked his tongue. "Pardon the change of plans Winston, but other patients call for me."
"It's no problem. I can wait," said Winston.
"And I insist you don't," said the Doctor. He got the attention of a nearby nurse. "Nurse, would you kindly show this fine gentleman to my office. He needs to pick up something from there."
"Of course, Doctor Wu," the woman said demurely. The purple-haired nurse turned to Winston. "Sir, if you would follow me?"
"Lead the way, madam," he said politely. "Michael, Richard. Watch over the Don. Finn, Marley, go get some rest. You deserve it."
"Thank you Winston!"
"What's that?" asked a voice.
"This was my mother's," answered Lelouch. Wait, that didn't sound right.
"What's it called?" the voice asked. He could tell it was young, he knew that much. But it came out garbled in such a way that its gender was indiscernible. For some reason, it didn't phase him. Nor did the fact that despite looking them in what he knew were their eyes, he could not see any part of their face. All he saw was a vaguely humanoid blur in front of him, like having the worst case of longsightedness ever. It did not help that the only source of light was a small paraffin lamp between the two of them, casting the other person's face in shadow.
"It's called Dusk," he replied. Odd, he sounded… young. How old was he? He ran a finger across the smooth, curved blade.
"Was she a huntress?" asked the voice, curiosity peaking through. He observed his surroundings but couldn't tell much. At most, he could recognise a lot of browns in the environment.
"Where I come from, they're called Paladins. But yes, she was." Who was he talking to?
"Can I hold it?" the voice asked.
"Sure! Just be careful with it. It's sharp." He handed the knife over to the person, who held it with the cloth on the blade. They turned it over and over in their pale, blurry hands, admiring the way it gleamed in the evening glow as if the very sun was captured in it.
"Who was she? Your mother, I mean," asked the voice, gently handing the blade back to him.
"Her name was Marianne Vi Britannia, neé Lamperouge, fourth empress," he answered with a hint of pride. "They said that she was one of the best in her generation. One of the fastest too."
"Woah!" awed the person, very much impressed. "She sounds amazing!"
"Yes. She was," he said in melancholy. "Wish she was here."
"You miss her don't you?" asked the figure. His mood dimmed, he gave a sullen nod. "Well, at least you can appreciate that you had a mother to look after you!" comforted the voice. "I never knew mine. All I know is that she was from Atlas."
They sighed as they leant back on their hands. "I wish that I could meet her. Just once. So I could know."
"I-I'm sorry to hear that," said Lelouch with guilt. "I didn't realise. I must sound like such an idiot."
"Don't worry about it," said the person, taking hold of his hand. "You did not know."
"Still, I shouldn't be so selfish," he said. Then his expression brightened with determination. "You know what? Once this is all over, I will help you find your family!"
"You will?" the voice asked with excitement. "You really will?"
"I swear it!" he said with conviction. "On my honour, as a prince! It's the least I can do! You helped to care for me and I am in your debt."
"..." The figure mumbled.
"Pardon?"
"You would do that for me? Thank you!" They leapt forward, arms outstretched in a hug. As they came closer and closer, the light illuminated them for him to see. Gaunt, callused hands sheathed in pale white skin. Pockmarked by soot stains and little red welts from bug bites. Glowing orange skin that cracked and bubbled and- wait a second.
'This isn't right!'
Before his body could react, the figure glowed an incandescent bright orange. As they collided with him, he was met with a blinding flash of heat, throwing him back. Getting up, he realised that they were gone.
Or at least, he would have, if not for one small problem.
The patch of fire where the figure once stood surged at him like a ravenous beast!
"Someone, help!" he cried out. He watched in disbelief as the flames crawled across the floor like mold, growing ever bigger. Spotting a nearby water trough, he ran towards it as quickly as his juvenile legs could carry him. Throwing the basin behind him, his hopeful gaze turned into panicked fear when the fire consumed the water like oil.
He ran. He ran and ran and ran some more, the corridor seemingly stretching forever. But no matter how hard he pushed himself, the flames were always nipping at his heels. He panted as he ran, his lungs burning from the dry, hot air. 'I need to keep going! I need to keep going!' he screamed to himself. Wait, what's that? A bright sliver of light revealed itself in the distance. A door! An escape!
'Just a bit longer!' he said, not daring to say it aloud. He puffed and he pushed his wee little legs further, the view of the light getting closer bolstering his every step. Almost there! He could feel the cool air, the light on his skin! He reached out a hand, ready to push the door open. Just a little further!
Suddenly, his foot was snared and he yelped in surprise. Tumbling to the floor, he felt himself slide to the threshold and he looked up in triumphant expectation. So, to his horrified dismay, where was the door?
It has to be here. It has to be! He frantically frisked his hands over the now solid, wooden wall, refusing to look behind him despite the growling, crackling cry of burning oak and the blast of heat. As the tongues got closer, he could feel them lick and singe the hairs on his necks. Desperation constricting his heart, he scratched the wall, looking for even the smallest seam, his fingers rubbed red and bloody in the process despite his claws having unsheathed themselves, leaving little crimson streams on the wood.
Closer and closer still did the fire creep toward him. He pounded the wall with his tiny fists, fear infusing itself into every fibre of his body. He had to get out, he had to get out! Someone must be nearby, right?! With not much else, he shouted.
"Help! HELP! Someone! Please, anyone!" he cried as he pounded the wall. He yelped in terror when the fire bit his ankles. Forgetting everything he just did, he jumped as high as he could with his claws outstretched, hoping for just the tiniest of cracks to hold onto. Alas, as it was with everything so far, the wall was impossibly smooth, his little claws slipping off them as if the wall was waxed, scrabble as he might.
As he landed, he braced for the burning sting of fire on his back. But to his surprise, the pain he felt was the one of a dull impact, though it felt rather soft? He didn't dwell on it much as he pushed himself from his back. Yet the sight before him left him stunned on his arse. The fire seemed to have receded, forming a ring that surrounded him. "What the-"
Before he could make good of the new situation, the fire rose up in a column in front of him. Slowly, it grew, towering over him, cackling softly all the while to the sound of its roaring. The rest of the ring slowly closed in, trapping the prince in a sinister cage with tongues taller than he could jump. At his wits' end, the fear shook his body to the core, leaving him frozen in place while his mind screamed at the top of its lungs, 'Have to get out! Have to get out!'
"Little Prince."
He gasped and looked up at the source. The column of flame was now much closer, the heat drying his eyes. It swayed to and fro like a charmed cobra and it coldly regarded him with two flaming, coal-black eyes that manifested near the top. The sight was too much for his brain to handle. So all he did was mutter. "Huh?"
The serpentine fire chuckled softly. Then, it ceased. It reared back, growing taller and taller, making him gradually lean back from the mere sight of it. Then, it hissed.
"Mine."
Lelouch had barely time to gasp before the pillar of fire fell on him, crashing down like stormy waves on against a rock. The fire washed over and covered him like a big orange blanket, casting a feeling of warmth on his body, despite his mind's despaired cry. 'Please. Anyone.'
Then, the pain. His skin charred and cracked, the inferno flash burning his being. The twisted tongues that dug in like claws, that seeped and sought every orifice in his body like water with a breach in the hull. It was worse that he couldn't see, his eyes screwed shut. He screamed in desperation and the fire surged into his lungs like an army of ants. With just an ounce of fighting spirit left, he thrust a hand up in some hope that someone would pull him out. But even as he did that, the pain dragged his scream out, even as he drowned in fire.
He jolted awake with a panicked gasp. His eyes took in his surroundings with fear, darting round the room. Then with clarity. His breathing slowed and he lowered an outstretched hand, his black claws shining. Quickly, he pat himself down, just in case. 'Just a dream. Just a dream,' he repeated to himself. He flopped back down onto his pillow, now wet and cold with sweat. What time was it? He picked up his scroll from where he left it. Huh, 1023. 'Guess I should get up then.'
He pulled himself from his bed and looked at it for a moment, the sheets scratched and drenched. No doubt from just now. "I'll change that later," he grunted as he picked up a set of clothes. He winced when he felt a pinch run down his leg. "I should stretch," he groaned, hobbling into the bathroom.
After a quick shower, he stepped out, all fresh and groomed. "What should I do today?" he wondered aloud. "Already worked out. Gear serviced. Assignments completed. I've already written back."
His stomach grumbled, giving him his answer. "Second breakfast it is then."
As he exited and locked the door, his scroll chimed. Taking a glance, he read the news alert that popped up.
BREAKING: BOMBING AT THE NIHONIAN BORDER
'Again?' he asked with a quirked eyebrow. 'That's the fourth time this month! I hope no one's injured.' He walked down the empty, quiet corridor, through the campus and into the cafeteria, devoid of the usual crowds.
'Maybe I'll hit the range later. Or ride around town! Suzaku did say it was fun. Or I could just go to the gym,' He thought as he dug into some bacon. 'Or maybe I'll check in with the new assets. Come to think of it, we may need to scavenge the librarian's stash and speak with our kin.'
His scroll pinged again. 'Looks like a ride's out of the picture currently. That just leaves the range then.'
As he stood up to return his items, he spotted a familiar gray figure walk out of his periphery. 'That's Mercury, right?' he asked himself. 'He was following me yesterday. What's he up to? Come to think of it, we know next to nothing about this team CMNE. I should dig into them when I'm free. In fact, I'll do it right after this.'
"Pardon me, Lelouch?"
'Never mind that. Speak of the devil and all.'
"Good morning, Cinder. How may I help you?" he asked politely. The young woman, who looked to be roughly his age, walked up to him with a slight sway in her hip. 'What's with her and the way she walks? She struts everywhere. Durin, she reminds me of Guin.'
"I was wondering if you could help me with an assignment, as well as some other matters."
"Oh? Well, what do you need?" he asked, crossing his arms and looking at her. Huh, looks like she managed to replace her outfit.
"How familiar are you with your history and your grimm?" she asked.
"Very. Which period are you talking about?" he asked in kind.
"History in general, really," she said with a slight shrug. "Though, I do need some help with the notes from the Doctor's class yesterday."
"So William the Third. Alright then. Meet me in the library in, say, half an hour?" he suggested. "I'll bring along some other notes as well."
"I'll see you there," she replied, patting his arm.
As they walked away from each other, Lelouch's gentle eyes turned into a sharp look of thought. 'Something's off about her,' he determined. 'Whether it's good or bad remains to be seen. She's definitely hiding something. Quite well, come to think of it. I need to be careful.'
Little did he know that she had a similar train of thought as she went to sit down and eat. 'Just you wait, Lamperouge,' she mentally cackled. 'All your secrets will eventually be known to me. And then, you will submit. I wonder, what are you hiding?' Seeing him exit through the big double doors, she opened her scroll and watched as a pinging red dot made its way across a virtual map.
"I just have to wait and see."
-Downtown Vale-
A trio of black and green blurs sped down the highway, nimbly weaving in and out of traffic in a coordinated chain. The last one notably had a pillion rider, whose black hair was pinned up into a little bun. Rolo was very, very thankful that he didn't have to deal with hair flying in his face.
That would be very, very bad. Now he just had to convince her to wear a helmet. 'At least she's holding on,' he argued to himself, feeling a pair of arms wrap his waist. As they pulled into an exit and entered the commercial district, they slowed themselves down. Pedestrians stared at the riders atop sleek, glowing steeds of steel that purred like predators, many taking a step away from the road in trepidation.
The bikes drove up a ramp to the roof of a shopping mall and crawled to a stop, neatly parking themselves in adjacent lots.
Rolo deployed his kickstand and lifted one long leg off the bike, stretching his back out. He pulled off his helmet and snatched a towel from a saddlebag, wiping down his sweaty, smelly head. 'There really should be a cooling system in these,' he said to himself. He shook his head, whipping off the remaining sweat and enjoyed the cool breeze that blew by.
"Ay, ay, ay! We're not at the waterpark so quit it with the fountain, alright?" complained Gino as he stowed his belongings. "Did you have to hit my eye with that?! Geez, you have a towel for a reason!"
"My bad!" Rolo chuckled to himself as dried his ears. Then, he turned to his passenger. "Pardon the wait, milady. You may dismount now." He bowed exaggeratedly and stuck out a hand, much to the eye-rolling amusement of his pillion rider. She swung a leg over and hopped off the seat. "Such a gentleman," she signed to him as she undid her hair.
"I try my best!" he said, taking it in stride. "I still insist you wear a helmet though."
"And I insist that I'm safe enough as it is! We have aura, for a reason, and my team was selected, for a reason," she argued. "Besides, that's rich coming from the guy who flies through the air at twenty miles an hour. Remind me again, who was the one that rode on the wrong side of the road?"
"She's got you there!" said Gino, shrugging off a windbreaker and locking his multibike.
"...How do you even understand her?" asked Rolo. "You barely know basic signing."
"Camera translating app," replied Gino, holding up his scroll. "Bloody useful, I'll tell you that." The tall, muscular blonde stood in a dressed down version of his combat attire, with trainers replacing his boots and jeans for his cargo pants, the majority of his armaments missing and without his compression undershirt. He wore a green t-shirt, blue jeans and a red-and-blue tartan band on his left arm. On his waist, he wore a belt, with a holster slung on his right. Nestled in it was a hammer, primarily silver in colour. And as always, his hair was in three small braids.
"Well, we would appreciate it if you didn't hear our conversations."
"Bro, there's nothing to hear."
"You know what I mean."
"Whatever you say." Gino picked up a sling bag. "Suzaku, ready to go?"
"Just about." The Nihonian boy came up to him in a black polo tee, a white down vest and brown slacks. "Let's go."
"Right then," Rolo said. "Noire and I are gonna head off on our errands. Meet you for lunch?"
"Yeah sure, just message us." Gino and Suzaku made their way to the stairwell. Halfway there, they realised that Rolo was headed in the opposite direction. "You know the stairs are this way right?"
"I promised Noire some extra fun!" replied Rolo, nearing the parapet at the far end.
"Remember to use protection!" Gino chortled when Rolo flipped him off without looking.
"Come on, quit teasing him and let's look around," said Suzaku with a pat on his shoulder.
"He's not denying it," Gino cheekily noted. He watched as the girl piggybacked onto him like a sloth and as they zipped off into the distance. Then he turned back to Suzaku. "I totally got him just now right?"
"You totally did!" Suzaku and Gino shared a good laugh as they opened the door to the rooftop access, descending into the mall downstairs.
"By the way, why did you even bring Eisenbrecher?"
"Just in case," Gino shrugged.
-Vale, Location Unknown-
Adam breathed heavily through his nose as he sat, reading through reports from all across Remnant. Currently, he was on a Bullhead, soaring through the sky back to his branch's base camp, deep in the Forever Fall Forest. Blocking out the whine of the engines, he sat in thought, planning their next course of action.
Well, as much action as one could take when they're meant to be keeping a low profile. That did not sit well with the hot-blooded bull. They needed action.
The more radical of his men were getting impatient, baying for action against the establishment. Already, he had to send handfuls over to other branches or to Menagerie, where they would hopefully cool their heads in time for the grand assault.
Hopefully.
The irony of the situation was not lost on him. He knew about his reputation in the White Fang. He heard the whispers and was wise to the rumours. Oak was of great help in that department.
Was. Gods he missed his number 2.
But he would not lose himself just because he lost his lieutenant. What kind of leader would he be? No. He would carry on, as planned. It didn't matter if they had a traitor in their ranks. It wouldn't matter if Blake accidentally fell into their camp in the woods tomorrow. He would remain calm, that much he swore. He lost too much already.
He snapped out of it when he felt the Bullhead touch ground. The bay door slid open and with a nod, he thanked the pilot and hopped out of the VTOL. Crisp forest air greeted his senses and as he walked into camp with notes in hand, WF members greeted him at every step into the temporary camp. And it felt good. He entered his tent, significantly bigger than the others. It was spartan, with a mat on the forest floor, a chest for clothes, a small purification unit stolen from the Schnees (they deserved it) which was used for showering and drinking, a desk, a cot with a pillow and a small mirror on a stool by its side. The closest he would get to a bedside table at the moment.
He sat down, put the papers to one side and took off his mask in the privacy of his quarters. He looked himself in the mirror, staring at the half-blind reflection with the letters "SDC" stamped onto his face. Sometimes it still hurt. On rare occasions, he would dream of that day. The operation in Mistral, his father trying his damndest to save what he could of the team. Of Ariadne.
He couldn't even grieve properly for them! His left tear duct was welded shut by the heat of the branding iron. Ever since that day, he swore. He swore! He would make those that wronged him, his people, pay with blood for every sin that they-!
He stopped himself before he could go further. He promised his dear father, bless his soul, that he would strive to be better, no matter the odds. He slowed his breathing as he touched his scar, feeling the uneven, marred skin on his face. He sighed to himself and got up to wash his face.
And he would have, if he hadn't been called to what he would later describe as the beginning of a very interesting month.
"Adam? We've got a package dropped on us," stated the messenger, poking his head through the flaps. A relatively fresh member called…
"Perry, right?"
"Yes sir!" The dog faunus' masked face lit up in hidden glee.
"Have you checked it yet?"
"The teams have already swept the crate. No bugs or bombs of any kind. We were hoping you could be there when we unpack, just in case. It looks weird though."
"Weird? Alright, just give me a minute and I'll be there." He shooed away the member with a hand and put his mask back on. Striding out, he regarded the crate in the centre of the camp, standing on top of a tarp with a target painted on it. Airdrops came in every weekend. They had gotten very good at it too. Off to the side, he saw the parachute that was used. The crate itself was painted white, with the WF symbol sprayed onto its faces. 'We're meant to get unmarked crates,' Adam noted. Something didn't feel right.
"You reckon it was a newbie who dropped this?" asked one member.
"No, the master of logistics, even in this branch, is too experienced for this mistake." Was there a change in the routine?
"Airdrop incoming!" Heads snapped up and saw an unmarked crate of light brown wood, gently float down onto their position.
"Get some grappling hooks and redirect it to another spot," he ordered a member. "Go!" They scrambled off, repeating the instructions. Ignoring the shouts and hisses of hooks being shot out of launchers, he nodded to a member who held a crowbar. He dug it in, wedged the point of the tool in between the surfaces of the box and heaved with his bodyweight, popping off the lid with a creak of wood. Peering inside, Adam was cautious, tense as a coiled spring and ready for any sinister plot.
But what he saw inside puzzled him. There was no bomb nor anything off that nature. The crate was laden with tons of food! From sweet canned peaches to brined sardines, little creature comforts were lovingly packed in straw for them. "Whoa," muttered the crowbar Fang member. "What do we do, Adam?"
"Have the sniffers sort through these, check for poisons. After that, classify and give them to the chef. If all goes well, we'll be eating comfortably." The White Fang member nodded and relayed the orders, a dozen men coming up and forming a Faunus chain, unloading supplies into awaiting carts. Quickly, they emptied the crate. Nearby, the actual drop was getting the same treatment.
"Hey, boss?" the Fang member said suddenly. "You may want to see this."
Adam walked over and peered into the crate. In a bed of straw was a small, rectangular box. A scroll box, he realised. He picked up the palm sized item and regarded it, wrapped in black wrapping paper. He felt a piece of paper on the backside and turned it over.
Staring back at him was a little sticky note that said "Open me!" in a neat scrawl.
With caution, he undid the wrapping. Discarding it, he looked at the scroll box, which looked back at him with a skeletal, lupine grin set in silver. "Midnight Fang?"
He took off the lid and set it aside and gently removed the nondescript scroll, as white as any other. Then, it chirped to life, startling him and the member next to him.
"Hello, brothers of the White Fang," greeted Zero.
*: See the Neo vs Cinder fight. You'll know what sequence I'm referring to.
**: George Foreman's infamous punch, where drove it using his abs to wack the snot out of anything. See the 2001 Ali movie
Me again! I hope you all liked this chapter! Once again, please point out errors and voice out your opinions! Respectfully of course. Unfortunately, no end tibit this time. I feel like the chapter's way too long already.
Also, should I do omakes? RWBY Chibi style?
I'm setting up the poll for Gino's semblance now so if you guys could pop on over that would be great :).
Till next chapter, this is backwardsaile, signing out!
