Good Evening, Dear Reader. Welcome back to another chapter of The Darkling Thrush!
I'm sorry that this one's coming out later than expected, I hadn't accounted for a scholastic duty and for this chapter to hit over ten thousand words. But, the problem with my five chapter arc system is that I've gotta fit everything within the chapters I allow myself, its the only way I can keep a schedule on this story.
I'd like to thank everyone who left a review last chapter! Thank You Shaded Azure, ZHsteven, Baoh joestar and noone297! Thank you so much for your words and support!
Anyways, I won't take up any more of your time, I hope you all enjoy this chapter!
XLVIII
Brand New Day: Part 3
Dove awoke from his slumber in a puddle of his own drool on a rather comfy mattress. Snapping to attention, the boy who could fly found himself laying in the familiar surroundings of his Bolt-hole, a mostly intact apartment building a mile within the buffer zone that separated the Grimm infested city of Vale from the Safe Zone.
Truth was that Dove didn't have much of a say in his choice of rest, a glance up above at the hole in the roof was quite evident of that fact. The night prior, Dove had caught the attention of a pair of Nevermore and after a long air battle he'd tumbled and crashed. Thankfully, as it appeared, the Nevermore had thought him dead, obviously having never encountered a man who could at the bare minimum slow his descent, and quickly went about their business letting the Bronzewing boy to catch some much needed rest.
Dove sat up on the bed before leaping off to collect the gear he'd tossed off the night prior. The sky was dull, dark and gloomy, and it could have easily been mistaken for night. But Dove could tell by morning dew scent that polluted the heavens that was not the truth. After dressing and spending a minute to scavenge items ranging from a cheese grater to several articles of clothing belonging to the flat's owner, the CRDL boy set off into the morning air, dead set on returning back to the safe zone, intent on informing his friends the news he had of Sky.
Over the abandoned city blocks he flew, a slight smile appearing on his face. Dove could do this forever, he could soar and float, tell gravity to piss off for a while. But sadly, he knew there were limits to his abilities, such as his semblance ran off his aura, which by the monitor on his wrist shown his reserves were nearly depleted, having wasted the majority on cushioning his fall the night prior. Recognizing time was short, Dove hurried along, reaching his top speed while descending at the same time, lest he suddenly run out of gas and go splat.
With his body close to the ground, Dove was given an up close and personal look of the freshly erected fence that acted as the border to between both the buffer and safe zones as well as the plentiful watchtowers. Upon further examination, he realized not all was well. There appeared to be several Atlesian Soldiers gathering around by what appeared to be a hole in the fence.
"Do you have any idea what the hell happened here, Winchester?" A helmeted officer with Lieutenant's bars on his metal uniform shouted, turning his gaze to one Cardin Winchester.
"I'm not sure, sir." Cardin replied, arms to his back and staring forward past the superior officer.
"You're not sure? A fucking Grimm cut through the fence under your watch is what happened!" The Lieutenant shouted, pointing to the fresh hole carved out of the fence.
"I can assure you, sir, that there was no hole in the fence during my watch." Cardin said calmly, doing his best not to raise his voice. From what Dove could see from his vantage point up in the air, Cardin was doing his best to hold back his tongue. It was quite the alarming accusation, that the CRDL leader had been inattentive in his duties the night prior, and from what he gathered, had allowed a Grimm to invade the Safe Zone, threatening the lives of all those who resided inside.
"Well it didn't show up out of thin air!" The Lieutenant shouted in a vain attempt to scream in Cardin's face. The sight earned a bit of a snicker out of Dove, as the Atlesian Soldier stood somewhere along the lines of five feet tall, while Cardin stood at a staggering six foot and a half.
"And it wasn't there during my watch, sir." Cardin spoke lowly, his patience nearing an end.
"Are you saying that my Private's report is inaccurate, Winchester?" The Lieutenant raised up a clipboard, presenting Cardin a written statement drafted up by the soldier who'd relieved him of duty last night.
Dove could see a weight press down upon Cardin's back, the gravity of his words fully setting in upon himself. Cardin had joined the Milita without consulting the rest of his team, believing it to be the best course of action, that its mission statement to serve and protect the people of Vale was a worthy of his loyalty. But here he was, claiming one of his peers was in fact lying, probably trying to save their own skin than fess up to their own neglectfulness.
"I'm saying, sir, that I did my duty." Cardin said finally.
"Well, we'll have to look into this mess." The Lieutenant snorted. "Until then, since you're claiming to be such the dutiful little soldier, I guess you can shoulder another week of Guard Duty, can't you Winchester?"
Cardin just bit his lip before glancing upward. Noticing Dove floating above for the first time, he nodded at his friend and smiled. "Good to see you, Dove."
"Who the hell you talking to?" The Lieutenant questioned before following Cardin's gaze upward. The Atlesian Soldier's eyes shot wide open in shock, quickly he became a stuttering mess. "T-That m-man's in the air!"
"Quite the astute observation, sir." Cardin said, not missing a beat.
"Everything alright here?" Dove asked in concern for Cardin's wellbeing. He could tell, looking past the CRDL leader's welcoming smile, that the Winchester was weary, no doubt due to those whom he served with. For a moment, Dove floated in wonder, pondering that this must've been a recurrence. He hadn't once stopped to consider that maybe the Atlesians and the Vale Militiamen weren't getting along as well as they'd expected.
"Could going a bit better." Cardin simply shrugged. "It would be best if you just flew home."
"Alright, fine." Dove nodded before taking off in the direction of Hooligan's, but not before leaving Cardin one final good-bye. "You know where to find us when you need us!"
"I know." Cardin muttered to himself, all while the Atlesian soldiers stared, amazed by the boy who could fly.
Over the skies of the Safe Zone Dove flew, earning awestruck looks and hopeful smiles. From the corner of one eye to the other, Dove could see the glistening sea sparkling off in the distance and the endless tree line of the neighboring forest. But it was the mass of people that caught his eye. Following those gazes that held him in such regard, he found mobs of people seemingly stretching from one end of the Safe Zone to another, all waiting in line for a chance to get something to eat.
Down there amongst the people, the issues were real, compared to the vast and freeness of the open air. It felt as if he was crashing, seeing how poorly the people were doing. The way things were going with the current rationing of supplies, Dove very much doubted that everyone in line would be fed today, just as much as he doubted they all would be fed tomorrow and so on. But here he was, returning from the city in which they'd fled, bringing with him all sorts of random gear for himself.
He felt sick in his stomach, a twisting pool that dipped into his very soul, he knew very well he could help them, dash into the city back and forth, retrieve whatever they needed from canned food to clothes, but there were just so many and he was only one and already running on fumes.
Dove barely made it to Hooligan's, crashing at the doorstep. He let the duffel bag which he'd carried through bouts with Nevermores to his side and with an exhausted breath, he managed to pull himself up off the damp ground and firmly knocked on the door. He then press both his palms to the sidewalk and heaved downward. It honestly felt as if he'd had the wind kicked out of him.
A moment passed, with Dove remaining by the door, he could hear the whispers of nearby onlookers who'd seen him land. If people weren't so stunned by the sight of him flying, they would have surely ganged up and robbed him. Dove wasn't doing himself any favors, appearing so helpless that he now required another's aid to help him inside the shop.
There was the familiar turn of the door's lock which caught Dove's ear. He glanced up, finding Russel pulling it open and lending an outstretched hand for Dove to take.
"Ah, there you are." Russel chuckled.
Dove two accepted Russel's help, being hauled to his feet by the Thrush hobbling into the rundown hardware shop, dragging with them the duffel bag with them before finally setting Dove onto a chair behind the front counter.
"I was starting to get worried." Russel said, earning a look of surprise from Dove. "If you didn't show up in a couple more days, I'd have had to go lookin' for you."
"Wouldn't want to head back to the city, would you?" Dove laughed.
"Not over you, no." Russel smirked. The pair shared a laugh.
"So what's this I've been hearing of Grimm attacking the Safe Zone?" Dove asked as he reached out for the duffel bag. And for the first time he truly felt how heavy it was. Without the supplemental aura that had increased his strength, it felt as if he'd been carrying about fifty tons.
"Meh," Russel shrugged before aiding Dove in lifting the bag onto the counter. "Nothing too crazy, some folks at the Chantry got startled by a Creep. Could've been worse."
"Then why's it got the Atlesian's pants riding high?" Dove raised a brow. Both CRDL boys had fought Creeps before, back then in Oakwood. But those creatures were the lowest of low when it came to Grimm, scavengers that only when starved could be driven to directly attack a settlement.
"Well, could be because Lance is using this as a way to galvanize support from the masses." Russel muttered bitterly.
"Wait, what? Lance?" Dove looked to Russel in confusion.
"Yup." Russel nodded, gesturing to the duffel bag's zipper, silently asking Dove whether he should open it. "Should've been there, everyone and their mom was chanting his name for killing a Creep. Make's me fucking sick."
"So? What if they're shouting his name? Why's that got to do with the Atlesians?" Dove questioned once more before reaching for the bag's zipper.
"Well, the Atlesian's are having a difficult enough time justifying their military supremacy. Last thing they need is a Huntsman to show them up, tell the masses we don't need them."
"I didn't think things were so bad." Dove frowned.
"The wind's blowing something fierce, I can tell you that much." Russel folded his arms over his chest as he stood in wait for Dove to open the bag. "Just when you thought it couldn't get worse."
"It gets worse." Dove's frown deepened as he opened the bag, revealing the numerous items he'd scavenged from their dorm room back at Beacon and the apartment building he's slept in last night.
"Well, at least there's a bright side to all this," Russel smirked as he reached into the bag, pulling out a clean drab olive hoodie and pair of brown cargo pants. "I can finally get out of these rags."
"Thank god, burn those things when you're done, would you?" Dove began to laugh, pointing at the tattered and bloodied clothes Russel currently wore. "You smell like absolute shit from even here."
"Pfft, nice to see that sense of humor of yours is intact." Russel lightly laughed before setting his change of clothes off to the side. He stood there for a moment, glancing over to Dove, watching as he dug through the bag, working up the nerve to question him about Sky. The last time Russel had seen their teammate was just before the attack, while on their way to Amity they'd been stopped by Ozpin, who'd whisked Sky off for a private discussion but not before leaving Russel with some cutting words.
"A Huntsman can't have baggage, Russel, his own weight, there's just no room for it. He's already got the weight of humanity on his back." Ozpin had said to him, a judgmental look on his face. "No more mistakes."
It just so happened that Ozpin had accosted Russel for his inability to secure any evidence to incriminate Lance, too caught up in fighting Nebula to bother. Russel hadn't had much time to ponder his words. The more he thought of them, the more it began to sound like an ultimatum, and then he thought of Ozpin's judgmental stare, as if he'd disappointed the old man, something that seemed to be a recurrence in Russel life.
"Sky's alive." Dove finally said, cutting through the silence and snapping Russel out of his thoughts. "His things in the dorm, they'd been moved and taken, he's probably out here somewhere, living in a hole like us."
Russel studied Dove for a moment, watching as a hopeful smile began to form. But Russel couldn't push back his own thoughts, his mind taking him to fearful places and uncertainties. "Don't you think we'd have seen him by now then?" He said, causing Dove's smile to vanish. "It was a crazy night, Dove. I hate to say it, but even if he made it back to the dorm, campus got hit hard. Maybe he didn't make it out of Beacon."
"How could you say that?!" Dove exclaimed, shooting dagger eyes at the Thrush. "Of course Sky made it out!"
"People were getting eaten by Nevermores, mauled by Ursi, trampled by Beowulfs," The Thrush recalled, counting the number of causes of death that had plagued the city of Vale some nights ago. "Atlesian murder robots started to go kill crazy, the stupid stadium crashed into the ground and then there was a fuckin' Dragon, Dove."
"So?! We made it!"
"Yeah, we did," Russel then raised his four fingered hand and poked Dove in the shoulder where he'd been shot when he and a number of others were ambushed by Team STAG in Amity. "But it sure as shit wasn't a walk in the park."
Dove then slapped Russel's hand aside and glared. "Do you see a dead body? No? Me either." He turned away, bringing his attention back to the bag full of goodies he'd salvaged. "I'm not going to give up on Sky. And you shouldn't either."
"Look, Dove, I'm not giving up on Sky." Russel spoke quietly.
"Could have fooled me." Dove scoffed.
"But – now hear me out – I just wouldn't be surprised if he didn't make it." He grimaced at the words that left his mouth. "A lot of good people didn't make it."
That earned a reluctant sigh from Dove, who nodded in agreement at the sentiment. "…Yeah, lost a lot of good people." He slumped back in his seat and recalled the names of those he knew who'd perished during the fall. "Nero, Illiad, Lambert, Naomi, Ulric, Purdy, Ezekiel and even Pyrrha."
Russel's eyes narrowed at the mention of the Spartan's name. He thought back to the photos he'd traded his services for, depicting the Champion's supposed death at the hands of Cinder. A lot of people that Russel knew had died that night, but only one of whom had he considered a friend.
"I'm sorry for snapping at you, Russel." Dove finally spoke after a period of silence. "It's just, I refuse to give up on Sky. Not yet anyways, not when there's a chance he could be out there."
"Yeah, well, no need to apologize." Russel shrugged, understanding his teammate's simple wish to find his partner safe and sound. "You did nothing wrong."
"Oh, before I forget." Dove shot up in his seat, practically leaping to the duffel bag and began to rummage through its contents. After a moment, Dove fished out a small knife with a wooden handle and presented it to the Thrush. "I believe this is yours."
Russel stared, wide eyed, at the familiar object that rested in Dove's hands. It was his Mother's knife. It took the Thrush a second to realize he was already reaching out for the weapon, taking it from the hand that offered and into his own. He drew a thumb over the handle, lightly running it across the name carved into it.
When Russel had left Oakwood to attend Beacon, he'd only taken few possessions, ranging from the few article of clothes he owned to the pair of daggers he'd taken from The Iron Nail. And truth be told, he could've left without any of those things behind just for this simple knife, the knife that once belonged to his Mother.
He looked up from the knife to Dove, unsure what to say. So, rather than stand there gaping like an idiot for the rest of the day, he muttered the typical courtesy. "Thank you."
"Just thought you might want it back, is all." Dove shrugged, before returning his attention to the duffel bag, reaching in and pulling out all sorts of random articles of clothing and kitchen appliances he'd taken from the apartment building.
Then they heard a knock at the door. Both Dove and Russel turned their attention to the front of Hooligan's at the cracked window door and found three obstructed bodies standing outside. The duo exchanged an unsure look, recognizing the knock to be a formality, that whoever was standing outside was not the common looter trying to pick at the bones of Hooligan's, but rather, seeking those within.
"Russel?" A voice the Thrush instantly recognized called into the near run down building. "It's Nebula, we need to talk."
The Thrush caught Dove's questioning glance and held out a hand, silently promising that he'd handle it. Russel then marched to the front of store, a corner of his mouth hiking upward into a smirk. He reached out and claimed a discarded sign left abandoned in the wake of looter's initial onslaught and then finally reached the front door. He pulled it open slightly, not bothering to check and see who it was that accompanied Nebula and threw the sign onto the front of the door before shutting it once more.
"No solicitors." Russel uttered the words on the sign dryly, his smirk evolving into a full toothy grin while Dove snickered in the background.
"But we're not soliciting anything!" An irritated voice, one that Russel didn't recognize, shouted in reply.
"Russel, this is serious, we need to talk." Nebula spoke again, matching her companion's tone.
"Tough crowd." Russel shot a look over his shoulder back to Dove and gestured to the door. "What do you think?"
"Sounds important." Dove muttered as he reached into his stash of sweets that he'd rescued the previous day.
"It is important!" Another voice that neither CRDL boy recognized shouted.
"What do you want to talk about?" Russel questioned.
"You know, I feel rather foolish for talking to a door." Nebula quipped.
"Fine," The Thrush shrugged. "I'm going to open the door, no one shoot me."
"I wouldn't dream of it." That second unknown voice said, followed by what Russel assumed to be a slap. "What the hell was that for?!"
Russel opened the door fully and was greeted by the sight of Nebula rolling her eyes. "That wasn't necessary." The NDGO leader muttered, glancing to her companion standing to her right.
"He was being an idiot." Panini Delso, the leader of Team PSYK, said as she rubbed one of her hands. "His head's a damn rock." She winced. To Nebula's left stood Brawnz Ni, the leader of Team BRNZ who now cradled the back of his head.
"That doesn't mean you should have hit him." Nebula shook her head in disapproval. She then turned her attention to Russel who stood looking on in amusement. She forced a smile. "Is it alright if we have this discussion in doors?" She nodded her head back at her associates. "I'm afraid they'll make a scene."
The Thrush then stood aside and gestured for the trio to step inside. One by one, Nebula and the rest of her Shade Academy colleagues entered Hooligan's with Russel shutting the door behind them.
"Sorry for the mess," Russel said as he led the trio over to the counter where Dove sat. Much to his relief, it appeared Dove had already stashed the bag somewhere out of sight as it was no longer laying atop the table. "We don't get that many visitors."
"'No Solicitors'? Really?" Brawnz shot him a questioning look.
"I didn't think there were so many of them left, not with the whole kingdom going to shit the way it did anyways." Russel shrugged as he joined Dove, leaving the Shade crew standing directly across from them on the other side of the counter.
It was a risk letting the trio into the building in the first place, neither Russel nor Dove were in the condition to fight, too tired or having never quite recuperated from injuries. But there was something off between them that The Thrush had picked up almost immediately.
There was a definite power imbalance between the three. Sideways glances and idle glares, forced smiles and exhausted sighs shared amongst them. Russel recalled how two days ago he'd spotted Panini and Brawnz arguing through the laundry mat window back in the Melting Pot. Neither of the three standing in front of them had ever worked together, and from what Russel could tell, they barely tolerated each other.
"Alright," Russel spoke cautiously, placing both hand onto the counter and leaning forward slightly. "What'd you want to talk about?"
"You're the one who suggested this guy," Panini muttered, elbowing Nebula in shoulder, earning a slight glare in return. "Tell him."
"I'm sorry to bring this to your attention, Russel, but we don't know who to turn to." Nebula said, a hint of reluctance to her voice that gave credence to her words.
"About what?" Russel implored.
"We've got around forty-four starving Shade students living in our little laundry mat, the ration lines are miles long," She spoke in a serious manner. "To put it simply we're hoping you could help us get something to eat."
"And how do think we could that?" Dove questioned in between bites from the candy bar from his stash.
"We were hoping you could talk to your Team Leader, Cardin…Winchester," Nebula struggled to utter the CRDL leader's name, earning a sideways glance from both her companions that did not go unnoticed by Russel. "He is your Team Leader, isn't he?"
"He was, yes." Russel muttered, scowling slightly.
"He ran off to join up with the Atlesians." Dove informed as he took another bight out of his candy bar.
"Is there any chance you can speak to him, maybe he can get us someplace to the front of the line?" Nebula asked, doing her best to be diplomatic about the whole situation.
Russel didn't blame the NDGO leader for trying, she had people who were starving, and all she wanted was to provide for them. That made his response a tad bit more difficult to say. "Even if I did, I don't think he's got that kind of pull."
"Why not?" Panini interjected. "He's like their Poster Boy or something?"
"What?" Russel raised a brow at the PSYK leader's words. But The Thrush's question went overlooked as Dove spoke up once more.
"Well actually the Valean Government handles the wide distribution of food, as in the Food Lines." He said, muffled by the mouth full of melting chocolate that stuck between his gums and cheek. "But you're actually asking about the food stores the Atelsians privately possess."
"Wait, no, hold on!" The Thrush interrupted, bringing attention back to Panini's earlier statement. "What's this about Cardin being a 'poster boy'?"
"You mean you guys don't know?" Nebula eyed the pair in genuine surprise.
"Don't know what?" Dove questioned as he set aside his candy bar.
"Cardin, The Winchester, Ironwood was quick to spread word he had one of Vale's heroes on his side."
"…The Fuck does that mean?"
"This has been a complete waste of time." Brawnz shook his head before motioning for the others to depart.
"Whoa, hey, wait, hang on a minute." "We can help you, but it won't be as easy as you initially thought it would be."
"And that would mean?" Nebula asked, willing to hear the Thrush out if it meant her people could eat.
"As Dove noted, there are two food depots, the one that caters to the masses and the one that feeds The Atlesians and The Militia." Russel said, drawing his mother's knife. He measured the dull blade and debated its use, before deeming it fit. He then carved two circles into the counter, one representing the Valean Food Depot and another representing the SDC Logistics building. "What I propose, in order to solve your food problem," He pointed the blade of his knife at the circle representing the SDC building. "Is that we take what you need from The Atlesians."
That earned Russel a number of weary looks. "Are you mad?" Panini asked, shocked that he'd even suggest that.
"This isn't what we're asking for, Russel." Nebula shot the Thrush the kind of look that asked if the man was actually sane or not.
"And what you're asking for is impossible." He retorted. "Now, unless you want to chance waiting in line for a week, this is your only option, other than swearing your allegiance to the Atlesian flag, I mean." He mocked a salute.
The trio of Shade students exchanged looks. Brawnz appeared unsure, what Russel had presented them was the notion of robbing from was now an Atlesian Military instillation, there was no telling what that could set off if they were caught. Panini, on the other hand, appeared more susceptible to the idea and just shrugged. Ultimately, it all came down to Nebula.
Russel studied the NDGO leader as she weighed the options. The Shade students had come to their doorstep in search for a solution to their food problem, and now they appeared to have one. Exactly how far was she willing to go for her people? Would Nebula risk an international incident, her own life maybe? She placed her fingerless gloved hand onto the counter and nodded. "Yeah, yeah, okay. It sounds good, let's do it."
"Before we get started, there's something else we need to discuss." Russel glanced over to Dove.
"We'll help you, but we aren't doing this for free." He said, finishing his candy bar and tossing the wrapper aside, not caring where it landed, the whole store was a mess anyhow.
"Why is it never easy?" Nebula murmured under her breathe. "Panini?" She glance over her shoulder and nodded her head towards the CRDL boys.
"Of course." The PSYK leader said before reaching into her khaki shorts and producing a stack of lien. "We managed to scrape together a sum of three hundred lien between us, it's all we have but it's yours."
The CRDL boys exchanged a look. "No offense, but lien won't do." Dove delivered in a deadpan fashion.
"What do you mean?" Panini questioned, while Nebula sighed muttering a curse.
"Unless you haven't noticed the sky just crashed on top of us," Russel jotted a thumb out a nearby window. "No functioning economy means that lien's just plastic and paper with pretty pictures."
"Now, let's be somewhat reasonable, things are sure to pick up again in the near future, think of this as a long term investment, that you do have cash on hand when you need it." Panini said trying to bargain with the Thrush.
"At any moment a Vacuan cruiser could drop out of the air and ferry the lot of you home, and this place will be nothing more than a bad memory." The Thrush began, trying his best not to sound insulted. He really shouldn't have been, under any other circumstances he might've taken the money, but the truth was it was useless, things were different, he'd learned that doing a job for Clover. "But sadly we don't have that luxury. We're talking about the possibility of years living in this stupid hardware store while you might spend only a month more here. So, as my associate has already clearly stated, no, we won't be taking lien."
The trio then huddled together, whispering lowly as they attempted to reach an agreement.
"Can you believe this?" Russel looked to Dove and pointed to the trio across the counter.
"We're in the same room, we can hear you." Dove shook his head.
"Shush." Panini popped up from the group huddle and shot a dirty look their way.
After a minute or so, they broke apart and Nebula turned to face the CRDL boys once more. "What do you want?"
"That's a good question, if you'll excuse us for a moment?" Russel said before he and Dove spun around and huddled together. "Alright what do we want?" Russel asked, not at all attempting to whisper. "They're living in a laundry mat, you want a dryer or something?"
"The one in the Melting Pot, right?" He asked Maybe they have a gumball machine."
"I think you've got enough sweets there, Dove." He casually motioned to the wrapper that now littered the floor of Hooligan's.
"Couldn't hurt to have a little more."
"Knock, Knock. Who's there?" He asked rhetorically. "It's Type 2 Diabetes, mate."
"You forgot the part where you go 'Type 2 Diabetes, Mate' who?" Dove said pointedly.
"Nah, it just kicks down the fuckin' door. Kind of rude of it, don't you think?"
"Quite." Dove nodded in agreement. "Well, I don't know, I'd ask for a mattress, but honestly I could just fly one over here."
"Don't like sleeping on boxes, eh?" Russel couldn't help but laugh at their unfortunate downgrade in beds. Just a week ago they'd been sleeping on nice, padded and comfy mattress. Now, they on cots made of boxes and old wash cloth rags they'd salvaged from the broom closet.
"I admit, these are less than ideal times, but I just spent the night on an actual bed." The boy who could fly uttered lowly. "Never again will I sleep on these stupid boxes."
"You could just fly one in."
"Fine. What about weapons?"
"I'd say the cutlery you brought back is sufficient enough." Russel gestured to under the counter where the duffel bag lay, right out of the view of the Shade trio.
"Yeah, but of the two of us, I can't throw for shit."
"Hey! Tweedle Dee, Tweedle Dum!" Brawnz barked angrily, catching the ear of both Russel and Dove.
"We're going to forget you said that." Dove muttered.
"Brawnz, dial it back." Nebula practically ordered.
"Sorry, but, they're driving me nuts. All the rambling, it's just ridiculous." The BRNZ leader said before letting out an exhausted sigh. "Look, I might just have something that might interest you." He said, earning looks of surprise from his companions.
Dove and Russel exchanged a questioning glance. "Like what?" Dove asked.
"I'll be right back." Brawnz said before heading for the door.
Twenty minutes passed by with the four individuals standing in relative silence. However, there was a tenseness to the atmosphere, an undercurrent of uncertainty. From the shocked looks that had briefly appeared on Nebula and Panini, Russel gathered that the pair had relatively no idea just what Brawnz was planning. And from what The Thrush had gathered, the man wasn't exactly the most stable of the group.
"If he shows up with a gun…" Russel spoke carefully.
"Brawnz has never been much of a gun-totter, you've got nothing to worry about." Nebula said, to ease the Thrush's concerns.
"Oh great, he works with knives, that's even worse." Dove remarked.
"Will you two grow some balls? Brawnz isn't going to hurt you." Panini shot the CRDL boys a deathly cold glare. "Not before I do anyways."
"Still a bit sore over the whole 'blowing up your team' stunt, aren't you?" Russel questioned as he spun his pocket knife on the counter by its blade.
"The Vytal tournament was supposed to be my chance to shine," Panini proclaimed, her glare intensifying. "To show the world the glorious might of Vacuo!"
"And now the all the world saw was you falling on your ass." The Thrush quipped.
"You son of a bitch." Panini cursed, slamming a fist onto the counter, cracking it slightly.
"Panini!" Nebula shouted. "Drop it, they're helping us."
"Fine, whatever." She said before flipping the bird at Nebula. "First its Faunus, then Valeans. If only your Great Grandfather could see you now."
"Shut. Up." Nebula spoke lowly, in a threatening manner.
The PSYK leader laughed darkly. "Make me."
"If you two are just about done, your guy is back." Dove muttered, gesturing to the font of Hooligan's. Just as he said, Brawnz pushed open the door, bringing with him what appeared to be a black bowling ball bag.
"Alright, before you say anything, promise not to judge me." He pointed to the assembled group of Shade and Beacon students.
"Pfft, no."
"Ugh, whatever. Here." Brawnz groaned, resigning himself to any flak he'd receive. He then pulled back the zipper on the bag and dumped its contents onto the counter with an audible thump.
"Is that…" Dove asked, staring wide eyed at the ginger haired head that rested on that now rested on the counter. "Penny's head?!"
"What. The. Fuck?" Russel asked, turning to look at Brawnz in disgust.
"Brawnz," Nebula shut her eye and squeezed the bridge of her nose before sighing once more. "Why do you even have this?"
"Because The Atlesians created a synthetic being capable of manifesting an aura." Brawnz pointed at the bodiless head. "I thought it'd be smart to have, hand it over to a techie at Shade or something. Atlas shouldn't be the only ones with this kind of hardware. I'll gladly part with it though, if it means sleeping with a full belly tonight."
Panini's eyes darted back and forth from Brawnz to Penny's head. She raised a hand and caught the BRNZ leader's attention. "…You didn't do anything to it, did you?"
"What? No! Gross!" He exclaimed hysterically. "How could you even say that?!"
"Just curious," Panini shrugged. "Dew said you were had trouble getting it up, thought you might be using it for practice."
"Oh for the love of god, woman, that's depraved even for you!"
"Can we stay on track for one minute, please?!" "Now, will you accept the head as payment or not?"
"But what could we do with it?" Russel wondered aloud, tapping the tip of his chin with his free hand in thought. "I suppose I could bloody it up and put it on a pole out front with the 'No Solicitors' sign."
"This just feels wrong." Dove said as gazed upon Penny's head once more. It was then that the young man realized that her eyes were still open. The boy who could fly physically shook as he found himself staring into the windows into the synthetic's soul. "…Her eyes are still open…"
"If you guys don't want it, I could always take it back." Brawnz shrugged before reaching out over the counter to claim Penny's head.
"No!" Dove shouted before slapping Brawnz's hands away. "You're not taking her damn head dude, its creepy enough you had to begin with. We could give her a proper burial or something."
"So you accept it as payment?" Nebula questioned.
"Yeah, sure, whatever." Dove said in visible disgust. The CRDL boy then cautiously reached out to grab Penny's head, taking hold of it he picked it up and placed it back into the bowling bag and zipped it closed. "I feel like I'm going to barf."
"So, now what? What do we do?" Nebula asked, shifting gears in the conversation.
"Thankfully," Russel began, not missing a beat and pointed to the circle carved into the counter representing the SDC building. "After Mr. Schnee himself showed up on our shore, The Atlesians played their hand. They haven't the man power nor the resources to patrol their building and the perimeter of the Safe Zone at the same time. Not to mention, after last night's Grimm scare, they'll be sure enough to bolster their fence patrols. Lights might be on tonight, but barely anyone will be home."
"To put it plainly, now is the perfect time to break in and make off with as much food you can carry." Russel smirked. "Under the cover of darkness, a small team pierces past their defenses, evades detection and makes it out with the goods. Any questions?"
"It's sounds too easy." Nebula muttered as she raised a hand to rub the back of her neck. "There's got to be more to this plan of yours?"
"Oh, there is. We sure as shit won't be leaving with food in our hands."
"That doesn't make any sense." Panini just shook her head in disapproval. "I can't believe we paid a head for this nonsense."
"Dove here's semblance is that he can fly, "Russel jotted a thumb to his teammate, who smiled and waved at the Shade trio. It's going to be a little conspicuous seeing a couple of people ferrying bags out the building that's, so Dove here will be flying out with them instead. After that, then the rest of the infiltration makes their way out."
Russel paused for a moment, glancing at the poor representation of the SDC building he'd carved into the counter. He thought of the actual building, thought of its dimensions. They'd have to scour the building in search of the food stores, that could take time, and every second would count if they were to evade detection within the building. It would take more than just Dove and himself to pull this off.
"A team of four is too big, a team of three is too noticeable." He mused. "Yeah, me an Dove can handle this."
"So, when can we expect you?" The NDGO leader said, a low growl emitting from her gut.
"Around dark-ish?" Dove shrugged.
"That's the spirit." Russel smirked at his teammate's initiative. "We move at sundown."
Under the cover of night, the ruling body of Vale, accompanied by an armed escort, made their way to The Atlesian compound and demanded an audience with The General. The unexpected arrival had in effect caught the soldiers standing guard unaware and soon caved to their wishes. Without the means of long range communication through the use of scrolls, a runner was sent to fetch Ironwood from his private quarters. It was safe to say the good General was less than pleased.
"What do you mean 'they're' here?" Ironwood questioned as he retrieved his white jacket from where he'd left it on a coatrack in the corner of the Manager's Office, the place where he'd made his home. "Our next meeting wasn't scheduled until for tomorrow."
"I'm not quite sure, sir. The Valean council say they won't leave until they speak with you, uh, sir." The Runner, a lowly private in stainless white armor, spoke quickly out of breathe from the quick dash from his post to the interior of the SDC building.
"Hm." Ironwood mumbled in thought as he buttoned up his jacket. "Quite conniving of them, to pull this stunt, knowing we'd be ill-prepared to handle their concerns."
"We could always force them to leave, sir." The Runner suggested, in a way attempting to atone for bringing such news to the General's attention.
"We forget that we are guests in this land," Ironwood said, straightening his tie. "No, we won't be running them off. It is their right to complain and our obligation to listen." He turned his gaze onto the Runner. "Alert the guard, escort the council and their people to the meeting room, I'll be there shortly."
The Runner nodded and then was off. The General then finished dressing then followed suit, making his way down the stairs some floors below. A floor below the Atlesian rooming quarters and a floor above the Militia's, Ironwood arrived at the Meeting room where two veterans stood guard and saluted the approaching General.
"At ease, soldiers." Ironwood held out a hand in greeting the pair. "Are the council inside?"
"Yes, sir." One of the soldiers nodded.
"Alright, let's see them." The General gestured to the door. The two soldiers then reached out for one of the two doors that separated the meeting room from the hallway and pulled them open.
With that, Ironwood made the long stride into the lion's den. On one side of the long conference table sat the three council members, Dolm Mayflower, Heyman Burns, and Glynda Goodwitch. And to their backs against the far wall stood the remnants of Team JNPR and one other that he didn't recognize, a dark haired young man who stood with a cocky smirk and predator-like eyes.
It was by the point that he'd taken his seat that Ironwood was now beginning to have second thoughts. It had been unwise of him to come alone, he could've sent for The Captain or even called upon Ciel. But he knew both were indisposed, seeing to the needs of their people. He could've had a runner fetch Cardin, but he knew doing so would have given the trio sitting in front of him even more ammunition. With a resigned sigh, Ironwood knew he'd have to handle this alone.
"I must admit, I'm a bit surprised, we weren't supposed to meet until morning." Ironwood said, taking the initiative and breaking the metaphorical ice of the conversation.
"Better early than late." Dolm muttered, already visibly seething. "We want your people gone."
"A mass exodus of that size is impossible, as you already know." Ironwood spoke calmly, knowing that only a cool head would prevail against a man like Dolm.
"Then grab a ferry to Peach, I don't give a shit," Dolm spat as he shot an icy glare Ironwood's way. "You and your lot of bastards have taken control of our kingdom!"
"Do you see an Atlesian flag flying high above every building in Vale? Then I don't believe we've taken control of anything." Ironwood shot back. "I understand your concerns, believe me, I do. But we just can't afford to push each other away, for the sake of Vale, we must stand together."
"James, why are you so invested in Vale?" Goodwitch asked, cutting Dolm off from starting another one of his anger fueled rants.
"Because Atlas, Vacuo and Mistral are next." Ironwood spoke deathly serious. A hush fell over the room as all looked upon the General in stunned shock. The proud General of the ivory kingdom had just admitted his home was just as likely to fall as the one he sat in now. "Vale was the first target of attack, we damn well know our enemy won't just stop there."
"Then go home!" Dolm shouted, hot furry resurging through his words. "Pack up your bags and go set up shop secure your own fucking borders!"
"Do you honestly think that matters?" Ironwood shot the councilman a sharp glare, his calm demeanor breaking, the stress filled days finally taking its toll on the man. "Look at Vale, look at how secure it was, an entire military fleet hovering overhead, the best Huntsmen the world had ever seen protecting its borders, and yet it still fell. It's only a matter of time before either of the other kingdoms fall."
"You didn't answer the lady's question." Heyman grunted. "Your concerns re valid, but you could set up shop anywhere, why stay in Vale? What's the point to it all, Ironwood?"
The General sighed. "Because Vale is now the safest place on Remnant."
"The Grimm right outside our doors would beg to differ." Heyman said, not buying Ironwood's answer.
"Vale has fallen, it's no longer a concern. Cinder and her people will be turning their attention to the other kingdoms." "If we are ever going to retaliate, it must be from here."
"Is that why've you've galvanized my students? Why you're perpetuating propaganda through Mr. Winchester?" Goodwitch questioned.
"Glynda, Mr. Winchester is a Huntsman, just as all the others are." "This is what they've trained their entire lives for, to fight for and protect humanity."
"They're too young, too inexperienced, James."
"You know that's true." "You saw the same as the rest of the world as Mr. Winchester stood against Cinder's subordinates, and the rest of them are on par with his skills. The truth is, Glynda, they're more prepared for this than anyone else."
"Is that why you were so quick to recruit this Winchester?" Dolm questioned, eyeing The General darkly. "You hope to install a champion for the people?"
"Now more than ever, people need hope." The General didn't even deny the accusation. "The last images to leave Vale were of Cardin, a Huntsman, defiantly acting against Cinder's cronies."
"And through him, your will over the people of Vale would increase." Dolm glared. "It's a good thing we already have a champion then." He smirked.
"We what?" Both Goodwitch and Heyman asked simultaneously.
"Mr. Grimsby, would you come over here?" The councilman glanced over his shoulder and motioned for the dark haired boy to join them. Strutting past Jaune with a smug smile planted on his face, he joined the Valean Council at the table. "General Ironwood, allow me to introduce to you Lance Grimsby, for the past few days he's been cleaning up after your mistakes."
"My mistakes?"
"Could you believe that people are already at each other's throats? Grimm are busting through your precious fence. Lance here has been going around to the people and solving their issues because he's a damn hero." The councilman patted Lance on the shoulder.
"What the hell are you doing, Dolm?" Glynda questioned sharply.
"I hate to admit it, Glynda, but I do agree with The General in one regard, that it's all hands on deck. Our youthful Huntsmen in training are ready, just ask Lance, he'd bested one of the nasty beasts himself, saved the entire Chantry to boot."
"Could you all just shut up for a minute?" Jaune barked from where he stood at the back of the conference room. All members of the council and Ironwood quickly darted to the Arc with questioning looks. "This is pointless."
"How exactly is this pointless, child?" Dolm inquired, arching a brow upward.
"The people who did this, who killed Pyrrha, who killed thousands are out there right now planning to do the same to the rest of the kingdoms and all we're doing is sitting around and arguing." Jaune shook his head in disgust. "We should be striking back."
"We're hardly in any condition to do so, Mr. Arc." Ironwood sighed, unable to meet Jaune's gaze and neither could Glynda, which did not go unnoticed.
For a moment, the General pondered his words, how he'd mentioned the would-be Fall Maiden Pyrrha Nikos. He hadn't once considered the reason why Glynda, who opposed the use of the underclassmen for service, allowed Team JNPR to accompany her. Now it began to make sense, it was because she felt that she owed them, and deep down so did Ironwood. After all, they'd both played a part in pressuring the Mistral Champion into agreeing to become Amber's successor. Ironwood didn't even attempt to scold the boy for speaking out of turn.
"Right now we are, maybe." Jaune muttered. "How about when your warships show up? How about then?"
"Ah yes, and the matter of your warships." Dolm cut in. "And what guarantee can you give us that these ships of yours are of a mercy mission and not an invading force? When are they even arriving anyways?"
"In three days." The General answered, causing everyone present to freeze in shock. "They'll be arriving in three days."
"…So, three days." Dolm gulped. "Then what? You bunker down on our shores? Perhaps you decide to obliterate the Dragon at beacon by leveling our damn city!"
"We would never do that." Ironwood firmly stated.
"But you already have!" Dolm shouted, spit flying from his open mouth. "Thousands are dead, do you forget so easily?!"
"No," The General's eyes narrowed. "I haven't forgotten."
"So your big plan is to essentially turn Vale into a giant military instillation where you can wage a prolonged shadow war?" Jaune rhetorically asked, now glaring at Ironwood. "We could end this, take the fight to Cinder. It could all end just like that."
"We don't even know where she is, Jaune." Goodwitch spoke up, still unable to meet his gaze.
"Weren't you listening?! She's from Mistral!" He shouted, now physically shouting.
"It could be a misdirection." Heyman mused, recalling the long speech delivered by the mad woman during the Vytal Tournament.
"Yeah, it could be. But it's all we've got." Jaune spoke quietly, now on the verge of tears. "But they deserve something, everyone we lost, they deserve better than what we're giving right now."
"That's real sweet, Jaune, but if you haven't noticed the war is right here in front of us." Lance spoke up and pointed to the General. "Going to drop more Atlesian Knights on us, or what? We'll be ready for you this time."
"Are you threatening me?" The General glared, for the first time fully addressing Lance.
"Am I?" Lance scoffed.
"I will not sit by and allow you to throw around threats so idly," Ironwood stood then turned to the door. "Gaurds!" He shouted. Almost immediately the two Atlesian soldiers standing outside entered the room, guns raised. "Please, escort the Valean Council out the building."
"I'm sure we can manage that ourselves." Dolm gruffly muttered. The councilman then turned then stood and headed for the door, followed closely behind by Lance and Heyman.
"Before I go," Goodwitch caught Ironwood's ear, just as the Guards began to guide JNR out the room. "Is Cardin even aware that you're using him?"
Ironwood sighed, then he gestured for Goodwitch to follow him out the door. "He's bright young man."
"Would he even go along with this if he knew?" She asked as they began to walk down the hall.
"I guess you'd have to ask him yourself."
"You're not afraid that I might?"
"I'm afraid, it won't even matter, Cardin believes in what we're doing. And what we're doing is good. I don't think here's a man alive that could change his min-oof" The General said before running walking into a pair of what appeared to be repairmen dressed in grey overalls, brown shirts and matching beanies that obscured the better part of their faces, carrying with them two bags that appeared to have equipment inside.
"Our apologies, sir." One of the men was quick to salute.
"Its fine, it's fine. As you were." Ironwood said before waving them off.
The two repairmen then sauntered off, leaving Goodwitch slightly perplexed. She hadn't gotten a good look at the pair, but if she didn't know any better, she'd have thought those two looked an awful lot like her former students Russel and Dove. "Was that…?" She pondered aloud.
"Was that who?" Ironwood questioned, causing him to pause.
Goodwitch opened her mouth to answer, but then stopped herself. "Nothing." She smiled, knowing exactly what she would do next. "Nothing to be concerned about."
"That was close." Dove murmured as they walked past the meeting room. "Could have sworn we were done for back there.
"The night's not over yet." Russel remarked as they continued on their way for the stairs.
Reaching the stairs they continued their search for the food stores, scouring every floor bottom to top. Eventually, after walking past the Atlesian quarters, the armory and the private quarters of the good General, they'd reached their destination at the top floor.
It was quite an awful long out of the way location for the food stores to be, but even Russel recognized the importance of its location. With limited access, the Atlesains in effect controlled who could reach their supplies, mighty handy in the off chance they'd need to defend the building from attackers.
However, things were never easy. As they drew closer to the massive vault turned refrigerator meant to prevent the food stuffs from spoiling, the pair of CRDL boys found a guard standing at attention.
"What do we do?" Dove whispered.
"Follow my lead." Russel shrugged before stepping into the Guard field of vision and waving to him. "Oi, hello there, we're here!"
"Who are you?" The Guard questioned, slightly raising his weapon.
"The Repairmen." Russel simply smiled, content with bluffing his way past the Guard. "Got a call down below that there's a nasty rattling here in fridge. Our supervisor thought it best if we took look at it."
The Guard blinked behind his helmet. "Uh…I think I'm going to need clearance on this…"
"You know what a dying freezer fan sounds like?" Russel intervened, preventing the Guard from grabbing the crude dollar store walkie-talkie attached to his belt. "It sounds like a low 'whirrr' followed by a 'ting'," He spoke quickly, hoping to confuse the Guard. "It's not to beconfused with the 'dings', that's a completely different issue. But right now we're focused on the 'tings', not just not just one 'ting' but in fact multiple 'tings'. It goes something like ting, ting, ting, ting, ting, ting!"
"I…I beg your pardon, sorry, what?" The Guard said in confusion as Russel began to talk circles around him.
"You hear the 'tings' when you've got a fan failing on us. Can't have that now," Russel rapidly shook his head. "The food will spoil and we'll all starve to death. Or give way to cannibalism. Either or but I'd rather not have to deal with that, how about you?
"I'm…I'm sorry, but what are you-?" The Guard began to protest, only for him to be cut off by Russel.
"The 'tings' the 'tings." Russel exclaimed. "Can't you hear it? Listen." Russel grabbed the Guard by the shoulder then dragged him up to the vault door. He placed his helmeted head against it then drew his pocket knife and lightly tapped the metal. "Can't you hear them? The 'tings'?" He said before shoving the knife back into his pocket.
"I-I can, yeah, yeah." Russel could practically hear the Guard's eyes widening in shock behind that helmet of his.
"Why don't you let us in and we'll get this fixed right on up." The Thrush said, sounding as if he were the Guard's new best friend.
"Yeah, sure, sorry for holding you up." The Guard nodded, quickly turning to the vault door and punching in a code into the keypad. The locks fell over with an audible slamming noise then the door pried open.
"Not a problem, mate." Russel shot the Guard a toothy grin before patting him on the shoulder before stepping inside with Dove following suit. With everything seemingly under control, the Guard returned to his post, muttering something about 'tings'.
"Holy hell, Russel?" Dove muttered in astonishment at their success to bypass the Guard.
"Yup." The Thrush smirked.
The duo then walked to the back of the refrigerated vault and found all manner of canned goods and day-to-day ration bars. Both men opened their bags, dumping out the assortment of junk they'd filled them with to give off the impression that they were carrying actual tools. Then, they set on the task of filling them to the brim with whatever they could grab. They pulled off jugs of water, packets of dehydrated meats, and various cans of beans.
Finally, after spending some five minutes within the vault turned refrigerator, Russel pulled out an icebox he'd stashed in his own and began to fill it, grabbing a six pack of beer that lay to wayside other various items for later consumption. He threw the icebox back into the bag and zipped it up, as did Dove. With their mission complete, they headed for vault door.
"No more 'tings'?" The Guard asked.
'No more 'tings'." Russel assured the man with a smile. "Have a good night."
"Yeah, you too." The Guard waved them off.
The CRDL boys then headed off back to the stairwell, with Russel handing his bag off to Dove. "See you at the meet." Russel said before taking the stairs downward.
"Don't take too long." Dove laughed before huffing it up to the roof in order to take flight with their stolen goods.
All the way down to the main lobby, Russel couldn't help but suppress a smile. Passing off as a repairman had to have been the stupidest idea he'd ever had and yet it was by far the most successful. If it weren't for the fact he was still within the SDC building he'd be a howling with laughter.
So The Thrush made it out the way he'd originally come: out the back door. With the sea breeze smashing him in face and cold humidity of approaching rain baring down on him, he began to whistle a tune. He practically skipped along the sandy beach in the shadow of the Atlesian compound. In the eye of a storm that was the unfolding of the world he knew, Russel had claimed a little victory for himself, something he could proudly smile at.
And so he headed off, but not before catching sight of something shimmering out in the corner of his eye. Russel turned his head, and much to his confusion, he spotted Lance and a woman in Atlesain gear, the same type he'd seen Cardin wear, the hand-me-downs, dragging what appeared to be a non-functioning Atlesian Knight out of a side exit of the SDC building. It was an odd sight to say the least, and seeing Lance was enough to ruin his good mood. So he paid them no further mind and continued on his way.
Into the Melting Pot he went, waltzing to the meet point right outside the laundry mat where the Shade students resided. And just as they'd planned ahead of time, Dove stood there waiting, both bags of food laying by his feet.
"You drop off ours?" Russel questioned as he reached down for one of the bags.
"Yup." Dove nodded, a cheery smile on his face.
"Alright, let's go." The Thrush nodded to the laundry mat.
They both grabbed a bag and walked forward to their destination. Up above they caught the shine of a sniper scope belonging to one May Zedong, Team BRNZ's resident sniper. Cautiously, they proceeded, at any moment the woman on the roof could drop them, that is if the people of Vacuo were the back stabbing type.
But no fatal blows to cranium came and the CRDL boys reached laundry mat and knocked on the door. "Trick or Treat." Russel greeted as the door flew open.
"Holy crap." The doorman, one Roy Stallion muttered at the sight of the bags. "Guys! They're here!" He shouted back into the room.
"I knew you guys would pull through." Nebula's voice emitted from within the building. Stepping out past Roy, Nebula and her teammate Dew reached out and claimed the bags from the CRDL boys. The NDGO leader then handed her bag off to Roy and pointed back into the laundry mat. "Alright, take stock then get cooking."
"You got it." Roy nodded before he and Dew stepped back inside.
"You know you guys didn't have to do this. You could have been scumbags, could've left us to starve or what not, but you didn't." Nebula shot Russel a bright, thankful smile.
Maybe it had something to do with the lighting, but there was something he didn't notice there before, a softness to her features, and yet, there was a quiet, unyielding determination. Whatever it was, Russel didn't even have to force the reciprocating smile as he met her brilliant olive green eyes.
"Eh, don't sweat it." Russel shrugged, as if it were nothing. "You paid a literal head for this."
"Still, thank you." She waved goodbye before stepping back inside, closing the door behind her.
"Well, I guess that's our good deed for the week." Dove mused as he turned on his heel to head back for Hooligan's.
"Yeah," Russel nodded as he watched through the laundry mat window as Nebula strode across the room, helping organize the Shade student's feast. "Our good deed for the week." He muttered before leaving to join Dove on the long walk back to Hooligan's.
"So, wanna crack open a few beers when we get in?" Dove asked, suddenly giddy at the prospect.
"You ain't even old enough to drink." The Thrush smirked and shook his head.
"Neither are you." Dove laughed.
They'd reached the door to Hooligan's when Russel began to fish through the pockets his overalls for his keys. They're backs were to rest of the world when they heard a loud explosion. The CRDL boys turned north to the source, seeing a large fireball shooting upward.
It was all too sudden, they need more information to go on other than by what they saw. But they'd been around the block a while, both from the air and from walking around with boots on the ground. Judging by how far way the explosion was, there was no doubt in either of their minds of the source of the fire. Over yonder across the way, the Valean food depot was up in flames, and any semblance of peace and order along with it.
This has to be one of the more lighthearted chapters I've done in a while. Read into that as you will.
When I originally planned out this arc last year, it in no way involved Russel breaking into an Atlesian compound to steal food. In fact, this story arc was originally supposed to be all about Team CRDL escorting the Shade students back to Vacuo. It's quite surprising how things change over time. And, for the better I think. I just can't justify Russel and company walking in the woods for five chapters.
When writing Russel and Dove, I like to think of it as a older brother-younger brother sibling relationship. I think it works.
The whole 'Penny's Head is in a bag' idea was actually birthed around the time I was writing 'Who Dares Wins', but it wasn't Brawnz who'd have her head. It was a morbid idea that for the most part is played for laughs in the chapter above, but I believe I handled the dark undertones well enough.
There's also a lot going on with all the higher-ups, where they all have a different view of their situation, and I believe that no one is exactly right, and no one is completely wrong either and I think that makes good drama, there is no definite answer and we're going to see moving forward by the end of this arc just how we resolve this mess, and that's exciting.
'Tings'.
So, next chapter should be out by next week, it shouldn't be as long as this one, I hope.
Later days!