Troll in Reviews
As has been noted, there is a troll in reviews spamming guest reviews and trying to frame people by writing their name in the name slot. Just ignore it. It's not worth the effort of paying attention to and I'm only writing this message so people are aware.
He's also pretending to be me by writing my name in guest review slots. I would only ever review something from this (logged-in) account.
Chapter 11
"They found you?" Adam swore and smashed his fist into the closest tree. "Damn it. This is the last thing we need!" He pulled his hand away and shook it. "You two did well. Jaune, I'm sorry it came to that, but you have my thanks for saving Blake's life. You did well."
Jaune nodded uncertainly. It helped a little to focus on that fact, as if by reminding himself he'd done it for Blake's sake, he could forget what it was he'd done. Adam and the White Fang had reconvened at a new meeting point at Blake's request, Adam pushing the men double time to reach them before any huntsmen could.
The White Fang were camping now, tired and worn but a fair distance away from the city. Enough so that they wouldn't be seen by any curious passers-by. The additional crates and barrels said the mission to stock up on supplies in the city had been successful.
"There was another huntsman too," Blake said. "Qrow Branwen." Adam's face twitched. "You know him?"
"I know of him. Huntsman from Vale. Strong. One of the strongest."
"What's he doing here?"
"Not sure. He could be on holiday or helping out some friends on the continent." Adam's shrug made it seem he didn't believe that. "Or he's interested in Jaune. I'm more likely to lean toward that since he sought you out."
"He claimed to know my father," Jaune said. "Do you think that's true?"
"Impossible to say. He might, but you'd be better placed to know than me."
True. Sadly, he was sure he'd never met the man, though that didn't mean much. Nicholas kept his job and family life clearly apart. He'd tell stories about it if asked but it was clear he just wanted to be a father when he came home, not a huntsman.
"One thing I'll say is that he knew about your Semblance. That's suspicious. The huntsmen chasing you didn't – further proof Atlas has stayed quiet on it because they still want you. How then does a huntsman from Vale know?"
The question stunned him, though only for a second. Qrow had known, and he'd backed away, making it clear he didn't want to get into a fight with him because of it. That had seemed crazy at the time, but now that he'd killed two huntsmen, he could see why Qrow hadn't wanted to mess with it. Skill and experience meant little against Null.
The lack of surprise, though. He'd not figured it out when it happened. Qrow knew from the start and Jaune had been too panicky to put together what that meant. Had he, he might have thrown caution to the wind and attacked the man straight away.
"You think he's working for them!?"
"If not them then someone else who wants your Semblance. It's all the same, isn't it? They're not going to help you get your family back." Adam tugged mask up. "We are. I've managed to secure maps of the area we're headed to. It's unoccupied territory but not unchartered. Perfect place for something that wants to stay hidden."
Anticipation set in. Jaune licked his lips, leaning forward. "Are we going there now?"
"Of course." Adam's casual response made his heart race. "We'll rest here tonight, move on and camp out of range before planning out assault the morning after. This time, we'll be prepared for them to try and flee. I'll have our men surround and scout the complex to cut off their escape while we go in. Keep in mind there's a chance it may only be one of them. They may not have both kept together."
"If they don't, will we find the other before Menagerie?"
"Yes. We can't afford to grant them the time to run again."
That was all that mattered. Adam and the White Fang may have wanted him for his Semblance as well, but the difference was that they put the effort in. Qrow may have warned them about the huntsmen but it was Blake who fought and risked her life against them, and Adam that delivered him his sisters.
"Before that, I have the weapon I promised you." Adam glanced to Blake and smiled. "Do you want to get a bath and a rest? I know you're not interested in this."
"That sounds wonderful."
"I'll be with you soon," Adam promised. Blake nodded and made her way toward the tents, gripping one shoulder where the huntsman had held her and massaging it. Adam watched her go with a fond smile, one that made Jaune cough nervously. "Ah. Right." Adam didn't flush but he did adjust his mask in a minor show of embarrassment. "Come on. We may as well test this away from camp. No need to spook them."
Adam brought him out to the edge of the trees, still within range of camp. He reached under his coat and drew out a small brown package. It was thin and small for a weapon, obviously not a sword from size alone. It was stamped with a purchase receipt which Jaune checked, wincing at the figure.
"Ignore that," Adam said. "It's an investment. Besides, all decent weapons cost lien."
"I'll pay it back."
"You saved Blake's life. Far as I'm concerned, you already have."
Perhaps, but he'd also put Blake into danger in the first place. He didn't bother arguing but made a note to pay Adam back one day, opening the box to look at the sleek black handgun nestled within a foam package.
It looked simple on first glance, deceptively so. Smooth black metal, a ridged and dappled grip. It was relatively small, less a hand cannon and more a side arm you'd expect to see a police officer wielding. There were two magazines included with it, each heavier than he would have expected. The thing was masterfully crafted, he thought, but not special.
There was more to the package, however. A weight to it. Lifting the foam, he found the rest hidden underneath. A five-inch blade that had an unusually narrow and unwieldy handle. To use it, he'd have to hold it between finger and thumb, and then there'd be no force behind it. Is it a throwing knife? I have no idea how to use something like that.
"It's a spring-blade," Adam explained, seeing his confusion. "Take it out and hold it against the magazine. Don't worry, it's not loaded. Now, slide both the magazine and the blade's handle into the chamber. That's it."
Holding both together was awkward at first but he found the groove the blade would slot into it and after that, it clicked into place easily. To his surprise, the blade twisted up, disappearing into the grip of the handgun, and retracting all the way inside.
"It's a hidden knife?"
"Correct. Now hold the gun as you would – that's right. There's a button by your thumb and next to the safety. It's stiff, that's intentional. Makes sure you can't activate it without meaning to. Give it a try."
Aware of what would happen, he held the gun out and pressed the button. It took a little force, enough to make sure he had to mean it. Instantly, the knife shot out the grip, stabbing down with staggering force. Enough to pierce skin and muscle easily, maybe even bone.
Holding the weapon upside down, he inspected the wickedly sharp and gently curving knife.
"It's not an imposing weapon but it's a concealed one, and that might be more useful to you than anything else. I considered a longer blade or a combo of both like Blake, but you don't have the training, and no offence but you don't have the time to gain it either. The element of surprise will be your biggest advantage, but that's not the only thing. Did you notice the second trigger behind the first?"
He hadn't but there was one. Calling it a trigger was a bit much as it didn't stick out like the normal one. Instead, if he let his finger off the trigger and slid it back, there was a small button there. Again, it was stiff.
"That won't do anything now since it's not loaded. The has the single barrel but there's a mechanism inside to push a new round into it."
Adam took the weapon off him and showed a separate chamber on the side, a narrow channel that he could probably push three bullets into at best.
"You can load individual dust round here, then when you press that trigger, it forces the bullet in this channel into the chamber. It also forces the existing one back down into the magazine. Don't ask me how, I'm not an engineer. You should keep specific tactical rounds in there. Explosive, fire, ice or whatever you can get your hands on."
Allowing him the flexibility to pick what he wanted to shoot. Within reason. Three shots didn't sound like a lot, but with his Semblance, every bullet counted. The gun played to his strengths and didn't ask too much of him. Even the knife wouldn't require much skill. Just slam the butt of the gun into someone, press the button and they were going to have a bad time.
And if I ever do learn the sword or something else, it's easy to add to my armament. It's not as amazing as Wilt or Gambol Shroud, but I don't have the skill to use them anyway. This was better suited to him, tailored almost, and the thought that went into it had him looking up at Adam with a genuinely grateful smile.
"None of that." Adam was gruff as ever. "Like I said, it's an investment. If you want to practice with the dagger, hit me up. Or ask Blake. She's used to a gun-blade combo and might be able to offer you a few pointers."
"It needs a name."
"Hm." He nodded. "That's your job. She's yours now."
Jaune thought for only a second. "Mors."
"Mors? That's… ah. That's an interesting name."
"My father's weapon was called Crocea Mors," he explained. "It was an heirloom sword for the Arc family and part of our traditions."
"Naming this after it. That's good." Adam chuckled. "For a second I thought you were embracing the dark side and turning into a brooding teenager with a name like that. Your reasons are much better, and the name will become fitting in time. May Mors become a reminder that the Arc family hasn't been de-clawed. Use it well and remember that it's bite cuts deep. What it accomplished with it cannot be undone."
Jaune's eyes grew hard. "Yes. They'll learn that soon enough."
/-/
The arrival of a Schnee was a marked affair despite her best efforts to the contrary. No sooner had she stepped off the aircraft were cameras flashing in her direction. Winter bit back a growl and forced a pleasant smile instead, nodding politely toward the numerous lenses. Father would have preferred she smile and speak to them, but then he'd also have preferred she wore a dress and marry someone ten years her senior to secure a lucrative deal. His wishes were no longer her concern.
Her two bodyguards flanked her, Lieutenant and Sergeant Jasper and Cardamom respectively, members of her Specialist unit chosen for the task at hand. Though over-qualified for mere bodyguards, they were perfect for what might well become a dangerous job indeed. For now, they played the part of the former, keeping people away as she made her way through the check-in and out of sight.
"I've new respect for bodyguards," Sergeant Cardamom complained. "And I thought dealing with terrorists was hard. At least I can hit them."
"Will this be a problem, ma'am?" Lieutenant Jasper asked. "Our arrival can't have been missed at this point."
"It would have been noted anyway," she replied. "I marked this down as a holiday but I'm sure the spies within the military will have passed it onto our enemies regardless. It serves us more to play the part than it does to try and sneak in."
They were suspicious either way and with good reason. It wouldn't do to make things worse by poking the Lancer's nest. She and Ironwood had taken to referring to their quarry as `The Organisation` for while they didn't know who they were or what they wanted, they were certainly organised. Enough so that they'd be all too aware of her trip and what it meant.
It would push them to ground, but then she didn't expect to find them easily as it was. Mistral was unknown ground to her, and Saphron's sister had been unable to offer much regarding information when she woke. Only nightmarish tales of the things done to her in the name of Atlas. It was enough to have Winter's fingernails digging into her palms just thinking about it.
Atlas was important, Winter would die for it if she had to, but it was only a Kingdom worth protecting so long as it held true to its beliefs. General Ironwood understood that, which was why she would follow him to whatever end.
They left the airport and made no attempt to hide their hiring of a chauffer to take them to their hotel. It had been booked in advance, allowing for all kinds of action. Bombs, listening devices, traitors amongst the staff. There had to come a point at which jumping at every shadow meant she was too paranoid, but when they just kept being proved correct it was hard to identify it.
They had rented two rooms. Winter switched with her staff, then scanned the room as best she was able. It was ornate and princely, and so it should be with how much it cost, and she only had to remove a single listening device.
"The worst part is I can't tell if you're from the organisation or just the paparazzi…"
It wouldn't be the first time filthy tabloids had left a listening or even recording camera in her or her father's rooms. They didn't even care what they saw. Nudes would sell for just as much as scandal. It was an inevitable and frustrating part of being in the public eye.
A knock came at the door, followed by two more in quick succession.
"Enter."
Lieutenant Jasper let herself in. "Ma'am. I think I've found a lead."
"Already? That's rather swift, even for you."
"I only think, ma'am. Here." Jasper held out a scroll that Winter took and breezed her eyes over. A new report about two huntsmen passing away in an altercation outside the city. Gunshot wounds rather than Grimm, raising the prospect of huntsmen on huntsmen combat. No Kingdom wanted that outside sanctioned tournaments. "Death by gunshot wounds, ma'am, and the timing would tie in with Arc's arrival in Mistral."
It's just as the General feared, she thought. He's already proving himself capable of murder. Are we too late to stop him?
Too late to sweep this under the rug as well. There were already rumours in the comments of the wanted criminal from Atlas. The timing was so convenient even the public could piece it together. A wanted murderer from Atlas arrives in Mistral and not two days later, two huntsmen die. It was also possible moles from the organisation were feeding that information out. It would benefit them for the public to assume Jaune Arc was a skilled huntsmen, as that would lead them away from the real answer.
If Mistral got wind of what he was capable of, they'd either want him for themselves or – and more likely – they'd decide that such a power was too dangerous to leave in anyone's hands. Better no one had Null.
I thought we were hundreds of years past the point where people were burned at the stake for their Semblances…
"Well done, Lieutenant. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Can you arrange a meeting with the surviving teammates? I realise they may not want to talk about it but feel free to drop my name and rank. I'm sure they'll be upset enough at Atlas to relish a chance to confront me."
"Or to attack you, ma'am. Is this wise?"
"I'm a huntress, Lieutenant. I can handle a few blows."
/-/
Winter's head snapped back. The fist carried through, knuckles bloody as she slammed a foot back to steady herself, rocking on one heel. A grey glove wiped blood from her lip as she stood tall and met the hateful eyes currently being held back by another woman, the first's teammate. Her companions gripped their weapons but had been warned not to intervene.
"I will accept that," Winter said, probing a tooth with her tongue. Her aura had protected her from the worst, but her jaw ached. Such was the strength of a huntress. "You are upset. I recognise that." She drew out a white napkin to dab the rest of the blood away. It was just a split lip, likely where it had been driven back into her own teeth.
"You know, do you?" the woman snapped. "Sarah and Ralph are dead! My teammates who I've known since I was a fucking kid are dead because of Atlas. Because you held back on a bounty's details!"
"Please understand that such was not my choice, Miss Samsara-"
"Don't even start. I'm not here to make friends or accept some PR-friendly bullshit from Atlas. I came to make you bleed and I've done that." Her remaining teammate was holding onto her, all but wrestling her leader back from making a terrible mistake. "I'm done here. Let's go."
"Wait." Winter held a hand out. "At least answer a few questions."
"Why should we? You got our teammates killed. Our friends. Give me one good reason why I should do anything to help you."
"Because it will give us a chance to bring the one responsible to justice."
Wisely, she chose not to say his name. Only to imply it. Jaune Arc would be brought to justice no matter how justified some of his actions may have been, but the main culprit would be the ones behind all this in the first place. Though she could not tell this huntress that, it would still be vengeance for the sake of her fallen teammates, who were dead because of the organisation's secrecy.
"What can we even tell you?" Samsara spat. "We didn't see him."
"How you knew where to find him. What happened."
The visibly trembling woman made to say something only for her teammate to whisper in her ear. Winter couldn't make out what was said but it must have been a request for Samsara clenched her eyes shut, trembled, and then started to calm down. At least, on the outside. Winter doubted she was anything but calm in reality. The woman stank of alcohol and her eyes had been bloodshot. Drinking her grief away, or she'd cried herself hoarse.
"There's nothing to tell," she seethed. "We caught wind of the bounty and decided to intervene. The money was good and the work – we'd been told – was easy." A glare, deserved by Atlas but not she or General Ironwood. "It said White Fang, so we had reason to believe they'd be headed for the coast, but we also knew they'd have to supply somewhere. Mistral seemed obvious. We also knew he'd need to avoid it. Can't exactly walk through the checkpoints, can he? We split up and set two ambushes, one on either side of the city looking for anyone that matched his description coming through."
Standard tactics then. Winter nodded, surprised for a moment that Arc had fallen for it before remembering he was just a boy himself. It was hard to remember that at times. He had no formal training or military experience. He was gaining it, however. The same strategy probably wouldn't work again, which was a shame since they could have used it better.
Or could she? Confident as she was, he could kill all too easily. Before, she'd held to the hope he might hesitate against someone not an enemy, but that had changed. Maybe he'd been pushed to it and maybe he hadn't, but in either case he'd made the choice now. He'd pulled the trigger, and unlike before, he couldn't excuse his actions saying it was to protect his family.
General Ironwood wouldn't be pleased.
"Surely once you saw that he had not come your way, you would have hurried to your teammates."
"Course we did. That's when we ran into trouble of our own."
"White Fang?"
"No. Someone else."
Winter tensed. Had the organisation sent their own huntsmen after them? It seemed more than possible – a fair number would have already been hired, albeit on false pretences like this team. There might be a few loyalists who knew the truth, however. "Describe them."
"Tall. Scruffy. They had dark hair – black or grey – but they wore a full face mask so I couldn't see more. It was like the White Fang, but not quite there. Like someone was doing similar but not the same thing. This one covered the whole head."
"Just one person?"
"Just the one, and he was a guy. Fast, brutal, definitely a huntsman. He handled us all too easily, then dropped us off at the gates of Mistral."
Winter's frown grew. "He didn't kill you?"
"No. I've no idea what to think about that. He wasn't just a traveller," Samsara spat. "It's not like we bumped into him and attacked. He wasn't our target. We saw him, spoke, offered to pass him by and he drew his weapon and came at us."
Not an accident then. "What weapon did he wield?"
"It was a sword but also a gun. Folded back. Mechashift. Even grew a little longer once, like it wanted to be on a polearm. Maybe a glaive."
Or a scythe, Winter thought, feeling an awful doubt pile in her gut. Ironwood had spoken to Ozpin and if there was one disreputable buffoon Ozpin all too often relied on, it was Qrow Branwen. Please don't let him be here, she thought. The man's an idiot at the best of times. I'm not in the mood to deal with his stupid flirting.
It fit, as much as she wished it didn't. The White Fang wouldn't spare two huntresses they'd beaten. They might if they wanted to avoid trouble, but there was no point killing half a team and sparing the other, was there? All that would achieve would be to announce their presence and earn two enemies for life. The organisation wouldn't care to spare them either. Easier to kill them, blame it on Arc and earn yet more reason to hunt him down.
"That's all I have to say," Samsara finished. "We're done with this, done with the bounty and done taking any from Atlas. Make sure you take that back with you. And if I have my way, every other huntsmen in Mistral will know as well!"
That was good as far as she was concerned, but Winter didn't say it. "I understand. I'll convey your message. On your teammates, I know it may be the last thing you want but I-"
"If the next words out of your mouth are about paying for their funerals, take them back or I swear it won't be my first which hits you next."
Winter closed her mouth.
The anger, she didn't fault. Couldn't. As she watched the two huntresses make their way out, she closed her eyes and wished it hadn't come to this. Though Jaune Arc pulled the trigger, Atlas had placed both him in that spot and their teammates against him. More people had died now for Atlas to cover up its actions. This felt more like Jacques covering up the Schnee family's crimes than she cared to admit.
"You shouldn't have let them hit you, ma'am," Cardamom said. "You're not at fault here."
"It was only a light blow. I'm fine." Sighing, she stepped back from the table. The drinks and food she'd ordered for them all had gone unused. Their guests hadn't been in the mood. "Jasper, can you locate me a bar in the nearby area?"
The Lieutenant frowned but drew out her scroll. "The hotel has a bar."
"No. A local bar. The seedier the better…"
/-/
Jaune strained his eyes to make out the signs Adam was pointing out to him. Be it faunus night vision or something else, he couldn't see what the other man did, but that was okay. He trusted Adam to be on point.
"I see it," Blake said. "There's a light between those two rocks. Red, like an LED."
He still couldn't – no, wait, there it was! A flicker if he moved his eyes quickly, and he'd been looking for the bulb. Instead, it was a red glow on one side of a rock, reflected light from something behind. Not obvious, but unnatural if one thought about it. "There's a door in there?" he asked.
"Door, camera or something else. I'm leaning on door myself." Adam grunted and sat down, the other two joining him behind the rock. They were in the middle of a large forested area deep within Mistral, little to speak of the area's importance but for a strange grouping of rocks like a cairn but more likely naturally formed. There were no villages nearby.
The White Fang were camped a good hour back. Adam didn't want to take chances, and to be honest neither did he. The last time had been rushed and the enemy had time to get his family out a back exit they'd not noticed.
"I'm going to scout further around," Adam said. "See if I can't find out what other exits they have. We'll station men at those and shoot down any Bullheads that try to leave. If we do that soon enough, the passengers would be safe."
"Should be…?"
"Will be. It's that or letting them escape."
The Bullhead Lavender had been in crashed down safe. It wouldn't come to it again, he promised. If they went in fast, they'd get everyone out without a problem. The fault last time was on him for getting pinned down in the corridors. If he hadn't had to wait for Blake, he could have made it through in time to save them. His hand touched Mors, running over the chamber where three explosive rounds lay. That wouldn't be a problem anymore. One of those would clear the way.
"I can scout as well," Blake whispered.
"I know." Adam touched a finger to her lips beneath her mask. "But Jaune can't, and we both know if you and I trust him to sit here and do nothing, he'll run into trouble. I'm not leaving you out because I don't trust you, Blake. You're here to keep him out of trouble."
The faunus considered that for a second and nodded, relaxing. As much as he wanted to argue, Adam was probably right. He wouldn't be able to sit back and do nothing knowing two of his family were down there. He was so close. So close he could run in and get them!
Forcing his eyes shut, he sat back.
Taking the time to plan and scout this out would make it work better. He'd only make things worse charging off half-cocked. "I'll stay," he whispered. "I know it's for the best."
"Good. But Blake is still going to watch you."
"I will," she promised, but caught Adam's hand before he could leave. "Are we destroying the facility after?"
"Yes. Whatever research they've done, I think it best no one found. You disagree?"
"No." Blake's eyes slid to Jaune and he knew she was thinking back to when he'd killed those people. "No, I think it's best no one has access to his Semblance. I'm just thinking how we'll pull this all off."
"Same as last time. We'll rush in, locate his siblings and get them out. Once that's done, we'll leave charges inside and detonate them at a safe distance. If it's underground like the last, the ceiling collapsing will deal with any evidence."
"What are we doing to do with everyone inside?"
Adam rolled his eyes. "They can get out however they wish. We'll take what prisoners we can and interrogate them. I'm not talking about a massacre here, Blake. Relax." He held her gaze until she relented. "We'll have to kill those who stand against us but if we're cutting off the escape, we're going to have a lot more prisoners. We'll set those loose. Those of them that are innocent. Not much we can do with that many prisoners out here. They'd only slow us down."
"And we go to the coast after?" Jaune asked.
"We deliver them to the coast, loop back and deal with the business Sienna wants done," Adam confirmed. "And then we head to Menagerie to regroup, let the heat die down and plan our next move. That'll be a chance for you to spend time with your sisters as well."
Perfect. He couldn't wait. Even if it meant leaving half of them still captive, it wasn't like they could trek back across Mistral to reach Vale. The city was probably already in uproar over those huntsmen, while their pursuers from Atlas would be setting up any number of ambushes. It would be slower to go all the way around the other side but travelling by boat to Menagerie and then from Menagerie to Vale was more than doable. Safer too.
The girls wouldn't be happy at the wait, but as Blake said, they wouldn't be genuinely happy until they were free. The important thing wasn't rushing to that recklessly. It was making sure it happened with one hundred per cent certainty.
"Alright. I'm in. And Mors is ready too."
"Good. You'll have plenty of time to test it. Blake." Adam touched her arm. "Are you with us?"
"I-I am. Of course I am. This is the right thing to do."
"Even if it means killing people?"
"I don't mind if it's soldiers fighting back," she whispered. "Just not the…" Her eyes flicked to him. "I won't say innocent, but the non-combatants. They don't deserve to die. Jail yes, but we can't execute them. Not again."
That had only been the one time and he deserved it. He'd touched his sisters! He'd tried to impregnate his mother to raise a child designed for experimentation! That was evil. Pure evil. Calm, he told himself. Blake isn't wrong to want to reduce bloodshed. As long as we save them, I don't care what happens to these bastards.
"No executions," Adam promised. "Jaune?"
"Y-Yeah." He gritted it out. "I'll not ask for any. Just… Don't expect me not to punch someone if they've hurt my sisters."
Blake smiled, relief shining through. "Punching is fine. I may even hold them down for you. Thank you, both of you. I know this isn't the time for it but I just… let's not become the monsters we're trying to stop, okay?"
"Never apologise for sharing your opinion, Blake. You're my love, not my slave. I will always value what you say."
Blake leaned in suddenly, cupping Adam's cheeks and kissing him. "For good luck," she told him, pulling his mask back down. Adam's smile was slow but far too smug, almost cocky but at the same time sort of bashful. It was a rare and complex smile from an even more complicated man.
"I'll be back soon. We end this tomorrow. Once we've done the job for Sienna we'll go home, take a break, and see the fruits of our labour. That'll be a chance to detox, Blake. For both of us. Just hold on until then."
"I'll hold on, Adam. I'm not going anywhere."
I'd say foreshadowing but since this is before canon and you all know what happens, yeah…
Am I laying it on a bit thick with her? Probably, but this is one of those nebulous areas of canon where I'm not 100% sure what happened. Blake joined the White Fang when it became violent, so I have to assume she was okay with it at one point. My assumption would be a slow escalation where violence once meant minor acts of vandalism and attacking military targets and soon became more.
I don't know for sure though and it's hard to write how someone goes from totally okay with it to not. That's not an attack on RT though, since we have real life cases of hardened terrorists turning against their former groups and feeling regret for it. I just don't really have the means to interview them, lol.
Next Chapter: 27th April
P a treon. Com (slash) Coeur
