Ah yes, the blame game about to happen in the newspapers here.
Cover Art: GWBrex
Chapter 20
Hospital trips, arguments with Schnee heiress, and fainting spells. Questions raised on Gen. Ironwood's capability to care for Jaune Arc. Council to discuss proposal to take Arc into their care until review completed.
Atlas Times
.
Leaked documents show MENTAL HEALTH issues with Jaune Arc: is Atlas abusing our citizens? Experts claim Atlas culture of "productivity over wellbeing" to blame for state of affairs.
Vale Daily Tribune
.
Mistral Council claims Jaune Arc collapsed in private, and that he was "fine and healthy" throughout the day. "Not our doing," says Council.
The Mistral Review
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New Vacuo Mayor, Gillian Asturias, calls for greater transparency on health of famous healer.
Vacuo Today
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WEAK, PATHETIC, SPOILT: Arc collapses after "HARD DAY" watching tournament and touring Mistral in luxury.
Kuo Kuana Express
.
It was almost a relief to be able to spend the day in the hospital and watch the tournament on the television. He would say almost because every time the adverts would come on, or the news would play in between long pauses, the conversation would inevitably turn back to him. Even the cameras regularly panned up to the VIP box and the empty seat between fights, until Elm decided it was enough, turned the television off and started to teach him poker instead. They played that for at least two hours, first with just the two of them and then with Harriet and Clover joining in. The latter started winning egregiously then, until Elm complained about his stupid Semblance.
They moved onto boardgames instead – not the boring "roll the dice" ones but worker resource management games with little wooden figures you put out to chop trees, mine stone or fight off the Grimm. With no luck to work with, Clover floundered badly, and ended up being mercilessly bullied and picked on by Harriet and Elm, who took turns raiding his stockpiles until he was a pauper. Jaune couldn't entirely hide his laughter, and the Arc-Ops didn't bother to, and soon they were all making fun of Clover as he valiantly sailed his way into last place. It was about that time when Tortuga came in, carrying with her a wicker basket filled with sweats, a bouquet of flowers, several cards and still ushering Vine in behind her. He came with a trolley stacked high with assorted things: bottles of wine and cordial, huge boxes of chocolates, more flowers, more cards, expensive-looking toffee and cakes. The list went on.
"For me?" teased Clover. "You shouldn't have."
"We didn't," said Vine and Tortuga as one. They shared a smug look. "These are the get-well gifts that Jaune has received," continued Vine. "In the last two hours. There are likely more by now, but if we waited for the stream to stop then it never would."
Jaune sighed and shrank back into the bed, trying to hide under the sheets. The act didn't go unnoticed, drawing a frown from Elm and a sharp look at Vine from Clover. "Set them down over there then," he said. "I doubt Jaune wants to deal with gifts from complete strangers."
"Tortuga has the personal ones," said Vine.
"Your family," said the woman, placing down a big card and a box of sugar-coated fizzy jellies. His favourite. Jaune's eyes lit up. "Then there are flowers from the Schnee family-" The big, overly bright bouquet. "Weiss also got you this." A card, small, but also a box of white chocolate. They weren't really his favourites, but it was the thought that counted, surely? He took the card and stacked it with his family's. Another card was offered. "And this is from Pyrrha Nikos." Tortuga held it within reach but without giving it. "I wasn't sure if… well, you know."
If Pyrrha was really his friend or just someone pushed on them, or Weiss' friend and more of an acquaintance to him. He wasn't sure either, but he felt he ought to take it since they'd talked. "Thank you."
"They're also asking to visit. Pretty much all of them."
Jaune sighed quietly. He knew they would, and it was a good thing that they cared so he didn't have any right to complain. It had been nice to have a little peace and quiet, though. "It's fine. They can visit whenever-"
"No visits," said Elm, firmly. "The doctor said he needs as little disruption as possible. He is resting, not playing host for excitable people come to gawk."
"We can't keep his family out," said Vine.
"His parents can come in and spend time with him but them only. Seven sisters in one hospital room are not anyone's idea of restful, and neither is all the reporters, media, well-wishers, politicians and celebrities dumping off gifts and clamouring to shake his hand. I am the law here. His parents and no one else."
Vine looked to Clover as if to ask whether he was going to let Elm make those kinds of decisions, but the Captain of the Arc-Ops only shrugged his shoulders. That was enough for the decision to be made, and Jaune wasn't sure if he should argue against it or not. Weiss must have been worried about him. And aggravated that he'd be making a scene like this, but also worried. He took his time folding open the envelopes instead and peeling out the cards. His family's card came first, and it was a ridiculously over-written and over-filled thing.
His parents had written short and heartfelt messages – mom's had a little warning that she would start taking care of his health if he wouldn't – and dad's was asking him to take things slow and spare a little thought for himself. The girls, well, it was easy to tell the ages and personalities by the handwriting and the length of their messages. Amber had written a sloppy "get well soon" and her name, while Lavender had tried to fit a small essay into one corner of the card about how worried she'd been, quickly realised she was running out of space, and then started writing smaller and smaller to try and make it fit. There was a little P.T.O on the bottom corner, and more scribbled on the back of the card. Jaune smiled and ran his finger over it. Jade and Hazel had written together and signed together; Sable had written a long message of support and love and had Coral sign it with her – likely the most they could convince of her. Even Terra had wished him well and said that Adrian couldn't wait to meet his uncle.
He'd never really understood the value of cards before. Words. They always seemed like the lame extra to birthday gifts, that you pretended to read but didn't care about because the present was what you wanted. Maybe he'd grown older, or circumstances had changed, but he appreciated the words and the meaning here far more than he did the jellies. Though he would also be wolfing those down as well. Sweets only made it better.
Opening Weiss' card next revealed a very neat and pristine card with equally beautiful calligraphy on the inside. The message was short, curt, and expressed her concern for his wellbeing and her wishes that he recover quickly. That was all. It was signed "-yours sincerely, Weiss Schnee," like it was some kind of contract. It did give him a little warmth to imagine she was thinking of him, but it was like a brush of hot air on a wintry evening rather than the snug, heated blanket of his family's funny, chaotic and messy scrawling filled with words like "love you", "worried sick" and even "dumbass brother" all over it.
Pyrrha's was a bigger surprise. It didn't proclaim her love, nor did she try and pretend to be anything she wasn't or push into his fame. Instead, she said she hoped he got better soon and thanked him for keeping her company at the festival thus far. Jaune read the words slowly, surprised by how much she'd written compared to his own girlfriend.
"I also wanted to thank you for all your advice on how to handle being in the public eye. It's not been easy, and I think it hasn't been for you either. You were right about Weiss as well; she is trying, and I appreciate that, but she acts as though all the attention is just something to get used to. You understand what it's like to not have grown up with that. I also feel like I should apologise. I was so relieved hearing that you were coming to Mistral because I knew it would mean less eyes on me, and more on you, but now I see you've struggled just as hard as I have, and I feel just awful for having wished to offload it on you. I'll understand if you are upset with me, even angry, or if you find my insistence annoying, but it felt like for once I had met someone I could call a real friend." There was a long space, with dots every now and then as though Pyrrha had put pen to card and tried to write, then changed her mind. Finally, it read, "I'm rambling. Sorry. This was supposed to be about you and I've made it about me." The way her handwriting got increasingly angular made him smirk and imagine her gripping her hair with her other hand. "I hope you get well soon. Sorry for how messy the card is. Your sisters said you liked jelly, so I included some of my favourites. Get well soon. Your friend (hopefully), Pyrrha."
Rambling, lost, confused but – he couldn't help but feel – honestly a little heart-warming. Jaune propped the card open and put it on the bedside table alongside Weiss and his family's. There, he could see the small packet Pyrrha had included. Nothing special, nothing huge or expensive, but a packet of gummies you'd find in the shops, with real fruit flavours and stupid smiling faces. There were probably millions in gifts waiting downstairs for him from wealthy people and celebrities and brands and businesses hoping to ride his coattails, and Pyrrha went and bought him a ten lien pack of sweets from the corner store.
He wasn't sure why that made him smile.
"We'd have got you a card as well if we had a chance," said Elm.
This time, Jaune did laugh. "You've been with me the whole time."
"Yeah, just saying."
"It's fine. It was… fun having you around." He wasn't sure why he hesitated there; maybe because the Arc-Ops were paid and ordered to watch him, so he wasn't sure if it would be weird to say he'd had fun with them. He knew Elm would call him stupid if he said that, so he didn't. "Um. How many other gifts do I have downstairs?"
"Too many," said Vine. "A truckload."
Jaune sighed. "Can we donate them somewhere?"
"There's bound to be some charities for children we can donate the sweets to in your name," said Clover. "Let us handle that. Is there anything you want to keep?"
How was he to know? He would have to go through everything, and then there would be people asking why he kept some and not others, and making assumptions that he was endorsing certain people, political parties, movements or businesses. Jaune shook his head. "No." He could buy anything he wanted with the money he was getting. "Give it all to charity. I guess I'll thank everyone publicly when the journalists get to me. Are they waiting outside?"
"Waiting and not getting in. Mistral's Council is taking this seriously."
"Do they know it's not their fault?"
"Leave that to General Ironwood," said Clover. "It's not your job to worry about the politics of you passing out. Your job is to stay in bed, rest and recover. I don't want to hear-"
A muffled knock came on the door, ending the conversation. Clover looked tensely over and nodded to Harriet, who moved over quickly, opened it a crack and slid out without letting the person in. There was an exchange of words outside, and then she was opening the door fully. The lack of caution probably meant it wasn't a problem, and sure enough Jaune caught sight of an Atlesian soldier in uniform waiting outside. "Sir," he saluted to Clover. "Lieutenant Pills asked me to get hold of you, sir. He wishes to have a word in the ground floor hallways."
"Is there a problem, private?"
The man's eyes slid to Jaune, but that could have been because he was famous more than anything specific. "Not an immediate problem or threat, sir, but Pills needs to speak to someone in charge. He's not authorised to make certain calls."
"No issue with the paparazzi, then?"
"Mistral's police officers have that well under control, sir. It's about the gifts."
"Well, I guess I better see what the good lieutenant wants." Clover rose with a groan and moved to the door. "Harriet and Tortuga, you switch with Elm and Harriet. They've had too much time off and need to stretch their legs."
Jaune smiled. "You're only saying that because they ganged up on you in that game."
"I'm a sore loser," agreed Clover, smirking. "But I'm a sore loser who can pull rank on them." There were groans from Elm and Harriet, as they rose and rolled their eyes. Vine and Tortuga were quick to steal their seats and looked more than smug about it too. "Vine, Tortuga, I'm trusting you to keep an eye on Jaune, and help him out with all those sweets. We wouldn't want him putting on weight."
"Oh, come on!" whined Harriet. "I wanted some of those fancy chocs!"
"Should have thought of that before you raided me."
Jaune watched them head out the room laughing, laughed himself, and then leaned back on his bed and picked up th TV remote. The Vytal Tournament was still in full swing, and his parents would be dropping by after to spend the afternoon with him. Maybe he'd call Weiss later as well and chat. Maybe. It would depend how he felt.
/-/
Lieutenant Pills saluted quickly, and Clover echoed it. The man looked bothered, though he was hiding it well for the sake of the medical staff coming and going. Their squad had taken up station on the ground floor to keep people out the wing Jaune was in, and to assist the hospital's limited guard staff with any unruly well-wishers.
"Pills," said Clover. "I'm told you needed to see me."
"Yes sir. In private, sir." He moved to an adjoining room but, to Clover's surprise, ushered Elm and Harriet in as well. He must have meant privacy from the onlookers and employees of the hospital rather than between the two of them. Harriet closed the door behind them. On a table in the middle of the room, several boxes had been pulled out and opened, and little plastic wrappers were dotted about. There was a young man with them, fully uniformed, with green-blue hair.
"Having fun with our ward's treats, Pills? Jaune isn't one to mind sharing, but I'd have asked first."
Pills ignored it. "This is Private Marrow Armin. One of my men. Private, tell Captain Clover what you saw."
"Sir." Marrow stood, saluted and then started talking. Clover noticed his tail but thought nothing of it. Elm, on the other hand, looked like she wanted to touch it. "I was keeping watch over the corridor with three of my squad mates. We had already apprehended two people today trying to sneak into the hospital under the guise of needing medical emergency."
"Were they investigated?" asked Clover, interrupting.
"Sir, each was brought to Lieutenant Pills to be processed."
"Fans," said Pills, rolling his eyes. "Mistral citizens who were longing for a chance to see Mr Arc in person. Neither had sick or ailing family that they would have pressured him into healing, and it seems they were just desperate to meet him in person and try to get a selfie with him. Ridiculous, but ultimately harmless. They were handed over to the local authorities to deal with, but I expect they'll get off with a stern warning. Tell them about the third, Armin."
"Sir. It was later in the morning, after the tournament had started. The crowds had begun to thin as people went to watch, so the job was a little easier. Lieutenant Pills re-routed two of us to watching the gifts delivered for the VIP, while the other two were patrolling the corridors. There was a fresh delivery of gifts from some local businesses, so we were helping to get those inside so they'd stop clogging up the entrance and inconveniencing people who needed the hospital."
Clover nodded, urging him to go on. "And then?"
"It was on my way back, sir. I was returning to the pile of gifts when I caught someone adding one to the pile. They were dressed casually, but when they saw me they panicked and bolted. I chased them down and managed to capture them, sir."
"Did you start a fight in the halls?"
"No, sir." Marrow stood a little taller. "I was able to disable them with my Semblance, sir. It allows me to shout commands and have them be followed, if only for a moment. I told them to stop and they did, stumbling and letting me catch up."
"That will be all, Armin," said the lieutenant. "You're dismissed." He waited for the young soldier to leave and turned to Clover. "He's a good soldier; I'm going to be pushing him for promotion before the year is over. His goal is to make Specialist. You could do worse than look at him."
"Send me his file once we're done with Mistral. What of the person he caught? Not another rabid fan, I suppose, or you wouldn't have called us here." He nodded at the table. "Or gone through what I presume was the gift he placed."
"Faunus, sir. No recorded citizenship in Mistral and no ID. I'd not normally judge so quickly, but the first thing out his mouth was that we were discriminating because he's faunus. Also, he called Armin a traitor."
Telling. No normal faunus looked at another and screamed traitor; to think that of a faunus in Atlas uniform implied you had certain feelings about Atlas, and certain sentiments on what side a faunus should be on. Clover didn't bother asking if the captive was White Fang. There was no way for Pills to know for sure in so short a time. "Has he been sent for questioning?"
"He was picked up ten minutes ago. General Ironwood is going to be meeting with him."
"Good." Clover indicated the table. "What of the gift?"
"See for yourself, sir." He picked up the wrapper and handed it over. On the front was a gift tag, the likes of which a message would be written on. Clover picked it up, turned it over and read. The handwriting was artful.
"To Jaune, get well soon. All my love, Weiss Schnee."
They had Weiss Schnee's gift up in the hospital ward, and Clover had seen the girl's writing enough since she started dating Jaune to know this wasn't it. It was close, and a fair attempt from a stranger, but she never signed her letters with "love" and he knew it. This was fake.
"This being a hospital, it wasn't hard to have some tests run," said Pills. "The chocolates are laced with chemicals. Bleach, rat poison, toilet cleaner. Anything you could easily get a hold of that would have a toxic label on it, it's been injected into these things. You can see some warping on the chocolate casing if you look close enough. We found tiny holes on the bottom of each where they were injected."
An assassination attempt. On their watch. Clover sighed as Elm growled and Harriet moved to inspect the chocolates. Sure enough, there was a little ripple in the casing. When she pushed down on it, the caramel burst out a little too runny to look normal. It had an off-colour to it as well. It was the first confirmed and concentrated attempt on Jaune's life; the incident in Vacuo had all the hallmarks of wanting to take him alive, but this was murder. Pure and simple.
The clumsy use of Weiss Schnee's name in the attack was either meant to increase the odds the gift would reach Jaune or implicate them in the aftermath. Whomever was behind this, and Clover didn't want to immediately assume it was the White Fang just because the perpetrator was faunus, had clearly underestimated the amount of care and attention Atlas was taking with his safety. They had obviously expected the gifts to be looked over by distracted soldiers and not thought too heavily on.
It was a good job they hadn't been – especially if these extra gifts were going to be donated to charities across Mistral. The thought of these treats being eaten by disadvantaged or sick children and then killing them was too much.
"Sir," said Elm. "Do we tell Jaune?"
"No. No, we don't."
"He has a right to know, sir."
"And General Ironwood will inform him in a manner and at a time better suitable. Besides, we don't yet have the full picture and Jaune will want to know who wants him dead. Better we don't put the wrong idea in his head." He fixed Elm with a firm look. "He is recovering. He needs his rest, especially if what the doctor said is accurate. Letting him know someone wants him dead is not a good way to help ease his mind."
"You're right, sir. I'm sorry."
"Lieutenant Pills, I want you and your men to inspect the rest of the gifts. Run them through x-ray machines and make sure there isn't anything where there shouldn't be. We've been asked to process these to charity, and we don't need any problems there."
"Sir." Pills saluted. "To be honest, sir, it might be best to destroy all of these. We have the budget to re-buy them ourselves and ensure they're safe. Going through all of this is going to take days and will mean opening up most of the edible gifts. They're not going to be any good state to re-gift."
A waste of lien, but one that might be necessary. Clover sighed. "Fine. Do it. Not here, though. Get rid of them privately and procure as close as you can to the same. Tell your squad they are not to mention any of this. Send me Armin's file once we get back to Atlas. A Semblance like that might be valuable. Elm, you head back to Jaune. Tell him about the stalker fans but leave the rest out. Make sure he knows everything is fine. I will inform his parents in private when they arrive but stress the need for secrecy. They ought to be aware their family might be in danger. I'm sure General Ironwood will give them more security teams."
They all saluted.
"Keep your guards up everyone," said Clover. "We can't prove it yet, but common sense says the White Fang are here to send a message, and that they think Jaune is it. I don't need to tell you how problematic this is. We can't afford to start a proxy war in the middle of Mistral."
He just couldn't help but think the White Fang wouldn't give them a choice.
/-/
The newspaper came down on the table with a rustle of paper. It was yet another story about the golden child of what felt like the whole world; Jaune Arc. The headlines and stories were different to back home. In Menagerie, he was portrayed as an instrument of the Schnee family, and an enemy of faunus. Here, well, it fluctuated. She had read papers praising his efforts in Mistral's hospitals, then opinion pieces mocking his so-called mental health issues – which had leaked from the hospital – and asking how someone who worked so little, and who was paid so staggeringly much, could even think to claim they had anxiety or depression. It called on its readers to reject the idea, saying the claims were a mockery to the many people who did suffer, and who were in far worse positions than the most famous man on Remnant.
Blake Belladonna didn't know what to think.
On the one hand, he was staggeringly wealthy and had been given it all on a silver spoon – literally handed the key to every city by unlocking his Semblance. On the other, she didn't much think it was right for people to claim the successful couldn't suffer from the same problems as those less so. The brain was a tricky thing, and she herself had grown up fortunate due to her parents in Menagerie, and she knew many were less fortunate than her. That didn't mean her moments of sorrow weren't as valid as those of others.
The door opened and Adam came in. His face was partially covered by a thick scarf, and a hood had been drawn up over his hair and horns. Even then, he didn't get out much. Their decision to come in person to Mistral was dangerous. Blake had been against it. Yet again, Adam hadn't listened. He didn't listen much at all recently, or at least not to her.
"Adam. I don't like this."
"I know!" He snapped at her, then stopped and winced, continuing in a softer tone. "I know, Blake. I'm sorry, I'm… There was bad news." He shucked off his coat and came over to sit beside her, offering his hand upon the table, palm up. Blake placed her own in it without thinking. Once upon a time her heart had swelled with such gestures, but not it just felt expected. He squeezed. Blake did not squeeze back. "I didn't mean to snap at you," said Adam. "It's just that being here has me on edge. So many people. Atlas, Ironwood, the Schnee…" The latter came out a hiss.
"That's why I don't like us being here," said Blake. "It's too risky. And for what? To send a message? Adam, if we cause problems for the Vytal Festival then we'll become enemy number one. This is a festival of peace and cooperation. We can't-"
"We're not doing anything around the festival."
Blake stilled. "We're not?"
"When did I say we were?"
"You said it was the perfect time to send a message."
"A message, yes. That doesn't mean armed violence." Adam chuckled, and Blake felt herself relax a little, but she was still suspicious. Adam had been moved increasingly toward violent displays and getting rid of anyone who disagreed. He had surrounded himself with yes men until it felt like only she remained a voice in opposition. This sudden one-eighty was to be celebrated, but she couldn't help but question why.
"No violent attacks?"
"Nothing that involves shooting, bombing or anything else we're normally accused of," said Adam. "I won't say there's no action but… well…" He shrugged. "If all goes well then our message will be received loud and clear, but there won't be any bloodshed."
"What exactly are we doing, Adam?"
"I can't say." He looked to her and laughed when her temper rose. "I can't, Blake. The less you know the less danger you're in."
"You said this wasn't violent!"
"It's not. That doesn't mean it isn't risky. You're not like me; you're relatively unknown and can roam Mistral as you please. I don't want you to lose that. It would be inconvenient."
He didn't want her involved either, because no matter how much more disagreeable his methods bad become he still loved her. Or he thought he did. She thought it, too, though there were days when she felt just a little unsure. Adam still kept her close, and he was physical with her, but it often felt like he was seeking his own pleasure and not hers, or maybe she was the problem. Not much had changed other than for her own doubts, fears and second-guessing. He still did his best to keep her out of danger where he could, as she did to keep him from making any stupid mistakes.
He nodded to the newspapers. "Reading about Atlas' pet, eh? What do you think of him?"
"I'm not sure. It's the news, isn't it? It's all biased, fake or self-serving."
That was how they'd been taught on Menagerie. No news was real, except for their own, and everyone just liked to lump crap onto the faunus and Menagerie as if everything wrong with the world was their fault. Blake was old enough to recognise that they weren't that much better, and that such an attitude was propaganda in its own right, but she'd grown up on Menagerie and with the White Fang, and it was hard not to default to siding with them.
"They say he's in the hospital because he's been over-worked."
Adam snorted. "Over-worked. Sure. A couple of hours here and there. How terrifying."
Blake couldn't help but smile and agree. It did seem ridiculous that someone who did so little – really, he was just using his Semblance – would claim to have so many problems. He must have been soft or spoilt or just a constant whiner. He was her age, and she was working so much harder, and doing so much more, and she never complained. Not outwardly anyway.
"Why are you asking about-?" Blake's eyes narrowed. "It's him, isn't it? We're here for him."
"Ask no questions, Blake, and I'll tell you no lies."
"Adam, we can't go after him. He has to be the most protected person on the planet right now!"
"He's also the most visible, the most powerful and he's siding with the Schnee. Blake, we had the SDC Board. They were dead – all but Jacques Schnee himself. Among them were members of the Schnee family. Slavers, abusers and killers in their own right! We had them and Jaune Arc brought them back!" He slammed his fist on the table, and Blake shook. "Think about it, Blake. Think about it. What can we do that he can't reverse? Do you really want to see a world where Jacques Schnee is finally brought to justice for his crimes, only to be brought back in full health an hour later? Is that what you want?"
"No, but…"
"But nothing. He has to go. He must. He has single-handedly stymied the greatest victory we've ever had, and he'll keep doing it so long as he's aligned with the Schnee."
He was right. Adam was right, and he had good points. There wasn't much the White Fang could do if the Schnee family had revival on tap. Nothing would stick. It didn't feel right to go after a boy, however, even if he was her age. They were meant to be stopping the injustice and the cruelty against faunus, and as far as she could tell Jaune Arc hadn't perpetrated any. He'd enabled it, defended it by associating with the Schnee, but he hadn't done any.
But then, what else can we do? His Semblance is too powerful in the hands of the Schnee family, and he's dating their daughter. It's not like we can capture him or take him away. He was too well protected for that and getting him out of Mistral would be next to impossible. He's innocent, though. He hasn't done anything.
"Is there really no other choice? Adam, he's innocent."
"No one is truly innocent, Blake. He's taking Atlas coin to protect their interests, and now money from the Schnee as well. Would you prefer we bomb Amity? I'm saying we can deliver a crippling blow to Atlas and the Schnee family, and all it will take is killing one person. Isn't that what you wanted?" He squeezed her hand and looked her in the eye. "Didn't you want me to start finding less violent methods? Less death? This is it. One person to send a message to the whole world. One arrogant, self-serving, faunus-hating individual."
One person. It was just one person.
Blake closed her eyes. "O… Okay. Just him, right?"
"Just him," promised Adam, smiling ferally. He took her hand and drew her up, then wrapped his arm about her waist and pulled her in for a kiss. Blake closed her eyes, surrendering to it even as she felt her stomach churn.
It was for the greater good, she told herself. Just one sacrifice to improve the lives of faunus everywhere.
Ugh. Since this is before Blake left Adam, I have to assume she was in her "doubting but still somewhat loyal" stage, which is hard to write. I also have to assume that she was in a stage of questioning her relationship with Adam as well, since she canonically did love him and such, and therefore must have gone through a time when she started to second guess the relationship and notice things off with it.
I also wanted to portray Adam as more ignorantly manipulative instead of pure toxic evil like in the show. I think he got lampooned a little too hard there, where I maintain he had the potential to be one of the show's most interesting villains, mostly because he didn't see himself as a villain. But then he went off the rails and went a little ridiculous.
Next Chapter: 10th November
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