The phrase 'Keep moving forward' had been kept at the front of Blake's mind for about an hour now. A phrase that earlier had been one of moral support in the face of intimidating tragedy had now been turned into a rhythmic slogan. One that pounded on the tip of her tongue with urgings to tide over her boredom a few moments more, a few extra seconds pushing against the pressure of monotony of the screen before her.
She didn't know when she started up her console, nor how long she'd been sifting through the meticulously organized flood of folders. She only knew that she must keep moving forward until either her attention span collapses in on itself, or she struck one nugget of relevant information. Or hell, just information that sparked one iota of interest and didn't make her eyes glaze over. A catchy headline, a familiar face, an embezzling employee; she'd even take a financial report where one number was a decimal point out of line. Something to prove that her efforts weren't fruitless.
Springboarding off her conversation from the night before, Blake was dead set on clearing up more of the mist surrounding her life. Naturally, if she were to uphold the duties of Willow Schnee, she needed to build a better profile of who Willow was and how she could best keep up the façade of the status quo, at least until she was in a better position. She was the ruthless heir to the SDC who had apparently overseen several big operations, her fingerprints should be on hundreds of SDC data. And yet, after hours of searching, she saw no trace she even existed. No involvement, no reports, not one mention of the heiress prior to her vacation. That was impossible, right? She asked herself. There had to be a mention of her.
Nothing brought such swift and painful frustration as much as the flashing window pop up, always accompanied by an obnoxious sound effect, that informed her she needed administrator credentials to open a file. In one way, it meant that she could quickly write off the other files in the folder as locked as well, decreasing her workload with ease, but she found it difficult to see the silver lining. Perhaps she was just feeling pessimistic with the impending arrival of Adam, but the computer before her only seemed more intimidating and overwhelming with every reminder of that prompt. She could do nothing to access this information, she neither had the experience, rank, or trust to do so. She was the Heiress, she was supposed to be strong, confident, and intelligent. She should be the second most important thing in this company, control, and money at her fingertips; but she was powerless.
That what it was, a way to knock her back down. No matter how much she learned, how much she knew, she was reminded she'd never be the person she once was. The reality was that she wasn't Wither Schnee, Heiress to the SDC. She was a nobody putting on a wig and wearing a shiny badge. Sure, once in her life she went by that name, once in her life she was sure she was raised to be the perfect replacement for dear old dad, but what was she now? An identity has a history that's been lived, a name that's known, a list of hobbies and interests. All she knew was Blake Belladonna. Without any semblance of connection to her old life, how could she call herself anything but a phony?
Perhaps that was what such an heiress really was, a façade. A position to be filled to give the appearance of control and respect, when in reality she had no real power to offer. A puppet to fulfill Jacques's will and vision while getting a pat on the head to tell her that the adults will be handling all of the hard work.
Blake was tempted to take out her frustration on the cool glass of water that stood atop her desk, but she couldn't bring herself to sweep the fragile cup off the desk even in her rage. Unwilling to carry out her raging turmoil through force, she could only curl up in her chair, bringing her knees up to her chest, and let out a sob. A silent sob. Even if the room was as empty as she felt, there was still that ever-present sensation of shame gnawing at her senses, ashamed at being in such a pathetic position.
Yang wouldn't have approved of the moping. She couldn't remember one iota of Wither Schnee's reign of ambition, but Blake could recall those treasured moments with her dear friend with almost crystal-like clarity. It was back in Beacon, shortly before the Vital Festival. "Do you have like a schedule for brooding or something?" The soft, yet jovial voice still called out strong in her heart. Blake could picture Yang behind her, leaning on the doorframe with a hesitant smirk, waiting to know if she should affirm to Blake that she's joking. "'cus I swear it's always noon on a Saturday that I find you right here, your A-Class Literature cast aside and your eyes trying to burn down the wall."
Blake didn't remember what she had been brooding about that day, just that something had been stewing in her stomach after the Breach, something she couldn't let go of. Perhaps it was a reflection on her relationship with Adam, or maybe regrets over leaving her parents, or maybe… Well, there were many things for Blake to regret, too many mistakes and callous actions to name. The conversation remained a blur in her memory. Blake remained adamant that she wanted to be alone, there was some back and forth about Yang's terrible puns, guilt expressed, and somebody started loudly chewing in the middle of it. No, the conversation itself wasn't the important thing for the most part at least. No, as Blake thought back to it, the images came much clearer than the words. When Yang was serious, she had this sort of calm intensity in her eyes, one that Blake never could stop staring into, trying to decipher the root of it all. Adam has a similar look, a similar passion to his speech that reminded one how much he cared, used to care; but his passion had long since been replaced by his hatred. She didn't know when his eyes changed, but eventually, he lost that drive to help and found a need to hurt and it bled into his stare.
What mattered was Yang, just being there, her brows slanted in a casual arch, yet still focused on what Blake quipped about. Her fire-tipped tongue was always ready with a rebuttal. Sometimes, Blake wondered if Yang had an entire script of tangents and distracting topics to help calm her friends at a moment's notice. "Could have done better." Blake remembered herself uttering in the midst of the scene. "Should have done better. I failed, again."
"Yeah, because you're the only person in history who's failed."
"I keep failing, I keep screwing everything up." It was bigger than their conversation, so many people she'd let down, so many situations where she simply couldn't measure up to the threat, to the problem. You always get told that if you just try your best, you'd eventually get better, you'd find success just out of sheer odds. But what if you didn't get better? What if you constantly tried, tried hard, poured your blood, sweat, and tears into pushing yourself, and yet you never budged an inch? Ruby improved her hand-to-hand and social interaction, Weiss developed her summoning and softened up on her icy exterior, even Yang eventually produced progress on her anger and abandonment issues. Yet here Blake sat, whether it was at Beacon, at Haven or even here, still stick, still the same, never changing.
"Sounds rough." Yang has expressed with a simple shrug after a straight minute of silence, slumping down and plopping herself on the bed next to Blake. She tapped the edge of her chin with a thoughtful toss of her hair. "I told you about my dad before, how he took the death of Super-Mom Summer Rose." It wasn't the best Segway in history, but it certainly made Blake raise a brow that day. "He shut down, went into this really self-aggressive phase. He tried to take Summer's place, I think, do the things she'd usually do to try and make it feel like she was still there. And you know what?" She clapped her hands together. "He utterly failed at it, so much." There was a short chuckle, but Blake didn't see the humor in it at the time. "The mad man forced us to suffer under his terrible singing every night before bedtime to try and 'lull' us to sleep. Even took lessons, if you'd believe it. But," She leaned back, golden curls splayed across the bedpost. "it never really stuck, you know? He always sounded like a Beowolf on helium. And he… He hated that."
"He'd practice outside in the mornings, thinking he was quiet, but we could hear him from our beds. He'd break out into one low note, only to interrupt it with a quiet, but violent swear. It got to him, left him punching trees out of frustration. Then one day he just stopped. Stopped everything. He turned off, as I mentioned." Her eyes didn't betray the pangs of pain that resonated in her voice as she recalled the memory. "He gave up, the most we could get out of him was ramblings about never being able to do anything right." There was a slight incline of her head that Blake took as a gesture of 'sound like someone you know?'.
"Okay, I'll bite." Blake let out a sigh, crossing her arms and pulling her legs up onto the bed. "How did he get better?"
"Not entirely sure, mind you, just that one day he seemed to return from his funk and life continued." That cheeky grin returned as Blake's glare bore into her. "All he told me was the one thought he had by the end of it…"
Yang puffed out her generous chest and attempted a raspy gaunt voice that sounded more like a boy on the verge of puberty than a man. "The world isn't always gonna set you up for success, and not everything you want to achieve is gonna be completely on you. However, there's only so much time you can complain about what you can't do before the world tells you to shut up and think about what you can do in a different way."
"Well, that mantra just rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?" Blake never realized how deadpan she could sound until she looked back on the moment herself, like every word was overtaken by a stifled groan.
"Guess it is a little wordy." She poked her cheek, swaying her chin gently in a childish manner similar to a confused Ruby. "I prefer to think of it as: 'I'd rather fail despite it all than fail because I chose to'."
Giving up is a choice. Failure is a given.
Yang didn't exist. No, that was wrong, she existed, just in a different sense. She didn't exist as a person, not in this world of apathetic depravity. The true Yang, someone who shined so bright even in her anger, would not belong in such a world, only washed away by the oppressive downpour. She was pixels, a string of code-based off Blake's need for an uplifting spirit and Ruby's need for a loving sister. And yet that voice, whether obnoxiously loud or spitting stupid puns, it still resonated with Blake. Her words stuck with the woman, wrapping around her like a quilt and warming her heart. They felt so real. Not words read off a script, but real.
And somehow, she wasn't ashamed to know that. "Thanks, Yang." She muttered under her breath, stretching out her fingertips before pulling herself back towards the computer screen, determination brimming as a gleam in her eye. If she couldn't step into her role as the original Wither Schnee then she'd just have to redefine Wither for herself. "Keep moving forward, ey?"
Two hours later, the routine had returned with a vengeance with the annoying pop-up chime determined to become the chorus of Blake's night terrors. If Blake were any less observant, she might have been privy to write it off as just more disappointment, but the neurons in the back of her head flared every few clicks. Her brain hadn't fully caught up yet, but her subconscious had found something odd. Many of the files were locked, pretty standard by this point, but soon enough she started to note exactly what the 'permissions' of the files were saying. She hadn't focused on it before, but it wasn't just 'admin access', it was varying levels of access. Most of them were commonly labeled with level 3 access, but some had a noticeably different level, level 5 to be specific. It didn't sound suspicious on its own, such systems made sense since every employee could access this database. However, what stuck out was the naming pattern, every file that was level 5 started off with the same initials, 'KP', followed by seemingly random letters and a shortened date.
"KP?" Blake muttered under her breath, the two letters leaving a cold taste on the tip of her tongue, as if just speaking them stole away a fraction of her heat. KP could mean anything, and yet… Deep down within herself, she could feel it, there was something in her bones, her very soul that shook under the letters. Somewhere within herself, she had the answers, yet she did not know where. Had her own mind turned against her now? Her eyes squeezed together, shutting out the surrounding world and pushing her into the dark layers of her mind. She was a lone spec in a sea of fluctuating emotions, weightless and yet dragged down into the abyss. She tried to push against the invisible force, with nothing but her own willpower and curiosity to give her momentum. The more she pushed, the more effort she exerted, the more her mind space quivered as if her very movements were strong enough to cause an earthquake.
It was then that she felt it, a cold touch. Not the touch of the late-night chill, nor the scratch of cold liquids dripping down her fingers. It was a fog of negativity, thoughts of powerful doubt pressing against her back, sliding sharpened claws made from her darkest fear down her cheek. Something was there, in her mind with her, bounding her arms with little resistance. She floated aimlessly in that space, eyes wide and unable to move. She couldn't move. She couldn't move! Not her arms, not her eyes, not even her lungs could part to breathe. It was as if with but one touch, the chill had become an insidious virus, spreading through her veins, and forming blue crystals of ice around her nerves. She was forced to gaze upwards where the sky itself tore itself apart, flooding the abyss with a blazing light she had no choice but to stare into, no matter the pain.
From the light immerged a shape, equine in nature, galloping on nothing as it approached. The light seemed to follow it- No, the horse-like creature was the source of the light, trampling through her mind with little resistance with what she could only describe as grace. It was beautiful, that was the only way she could describe the view. It burned her eyes with its beauty, made them weep softly at the majesty of the horse's stride, feel the pressure of such inhuman passion clamping down on her throat. She needed to breathe, but her frozen body could only focus on the creature. Stare at it until the white was the only color her mind could process, until her body begged, pleaded for her to look away.
She could not.
She could never.
She could only watch.
She could only weep.
She could only feel her body lose the will to breathe.
She could only give in and drag her down.
Drag her down under the water, where the light touched nothing.
SCRASH!
Golden eyes flickered against ice blue as Blake's body collapsed against the desk, with her hands desperately clinging to the arms of her chair being the only thing stopping her from completely crashing through the desk. "W-what… What…" Her head tilted to the right to see the shattered remains of her water glass decorating the carpet, it's final cry upon its demise still ringing in her ear. She noted immediately when her head turned that cold sweat was shaken from her chin, her forehead, her everything with the momentum of the turn. "I'm still here… I'm still here." She repeated under her breath, before pausing. "Am I?" Where that question came from so suddenly, she did not know, could not know. "I have to be, don't I? Dumb question, Blake. Dumb questions. Why are you asking dumb questions? Why are you shaken? That was just a weird… Sleep-deprived… Hallucination. Right? Right." Her voice, shaking as she took a moment to catch her breath, wasn't that convincing.
The timing of that episode had been a bit convenient. Okay, very convenient. Too convenient. Just when she had come to a realization about the files. Maybe a flicker of her memories were breaking through, something acknowledging what she learned. That would be a charitable interpretation She mused to herself. If she'd learned anything since stepping out of that pod, it was that it was safe to assume the worst in this world, and so far the worst answer that trickled down her spine was simple: She found something she wasn't supposed to.
Again, all the oddities marched into view once more, glowing brighter than ever and demanding her curiosity no matter how much she yearned for peace. This entire situation has been one suspicious set of circumstance after another, entering such a dangerous and memory damaging simulation with two strangers who have no connection to her, the complete absence of details leading up to her 'vacation', Jacques's secretive behavior about events she should presumably already know about and all the data that she can't access despite being an important member of the company. No, the fact that she had suddenly had a first-time episode screaming at her to not seek answers the moment she starts to figure something out? Any possibility she ran through spelled out trouble.
Immediately, she felt unsafe, reminded of how vulnerable she was in this world, sitting in the middle of someone else's building with nothing to protect herself. Something was going on, and someone, either her own fears or maybe the mustached man himself, was trying to cover it up. So many questions, so many possibilities, so many little paranoid thoughts eating away at her. Could her episode have been his semblance? Does he have one? Could he see her going through the files? Was he watching her right now? Maybe the room was bugged. Maybe she should make a run for it now. Maybe she was just crazy.
But all of that was consumed by one emotion: Rage. Rage, spite, anger, all burning up like a quaking volcano and grounding Blake in the moment. She didn't know what was going, she didn't know if she should be looking into it or not, she didn't even know if this was anything more than her desperately seeking an outlet where no problem exists. What she did know was that she was pissed, and she was going to get to the bottom of this.
"Giving up is a choice. Failure is a given."
Ren wasn't one to pry into matters that didn't concern him. If school girls loudly gossiped beside him, he'd turn away and tune them out. If two feral looking adults looked like they were getting ready for an explosive throwdown, he'd find the nearest corner to sit in. Even if a friend looked bothered but wouldn't divulge what irked them so, he'd still pass up on the opportunity to press; people had a right to not tell him what they didn't want him to hear, even if he was concerned. And he respected that, always did. No need to investigate, no need for his curiosity to linger, no need for him to strain his brain with ample speculation. It just so happened that there was never a moment where Nora wasn't open about her feelings.
Ruby, on the other hand, followed the exact opposite end of the spectrum. When something was bothering her, she didn't get it off her chest, she didn't go find someone to talk to, she just let it stew in the pit of her stomach. Ren knew this because, despite her best efforts to contain her frustration, she was absolutely terrible at hiding anything.
She stood mere inches away from him, dragging her right foot along as she tried to keep pace with the slow plodding of her fellow street dwellers. Her shoulders worked overtime to dodge her small form in between the collision paths of the ignorant and careless masses, making it difficult to catch a glimpse of her face from in front, but one glance was all Ren needed to get curious. Her eyes were scrunched up, wrinkling her brow as she squeezed them together, a silent grunt of effort going unsaid.
He theorized that the nerves were getting to her, the ever-present panic of job hunting. Ever since the two took off on foot to find what source of income would suit Ruby, he often questioned if she could handle a job interview. She was awkward enough with normal people, towards her friends she wasn't entirely comfortable and authority? Ruby never seemed to get along well with authority, very much being set in her ways, when she thinks she's right, she charges ahead with that idea and offer very little breathing room for what she perceives as wrong. Whether it be a philosophical debate on the nature of their mission or trying to weasel her way out of doing chores.
Again, Ren never liked to pry into other people's affairs, but he couldn't deny that there was a certain intensity to her dulled eyes that caught him. An edge of serious thought bubbling up below whatever words Ruby was struggling to verbalize. For a moment, he considered maybe speaking out to change the topic, give her time to figure it out while avoiding an awkward silence. Alas, it was at that time she decided to speak her mind in one, clear, loud, and decisive voice.
"Do you like cookies?"
There was a pause between them, drawn out a second enough to be awkward as Ren listened to the trembling corner of his lips. Was it a hopeless smile growing or just an expression confused? It was how earnest she sounded that struck him, with that wide-eyed stare and twisted upper lip of a schoolgirl waiting for everything to blow up in her face. He'd seen that same look in her eye in the midst of combat, seconds before making a decisive call that would somehow save the day.
"Huh?" Was all he could splutter out for the moment. He thought he was ready for listening to odd answers in his group of friends, Nora had made it her mission to come up with at least one odd catchphrase a day, but she never spoke with such conviction in her hijinks.
"They sure are tasty, aren't they?" He noted that her fingers squeezed together so tightly he could see the whites of her knuckles. Without a moment to let him answer, she hopped onto her other foot, leaning past Ren as the next strategy came to mind. "What about weapons? They turn into other weapons! That's awesome!"
The only thing that was keeping all the tension in Ren's questioning thoughts was his finger pinching the skin of his forehead into a tiny clump, like the seams of his brain being held together like loose paper. "Ruby…"
Another jump and she swerved away, careful to avoid putting pressure on her bad leg, arms thrown out in a dramatic mimicry of a big bang. Naturally, none of the passers-by so much as glanced at the odd actions of the girl, still invisible to their eyes. "And do you ever listen to the sound an explosive round makes when it hits JUST right?" A sharp wheeze of an awkward teen who'd ran out of ideas, wiping the sweat off her brow. Whether it was to emphasize her point or just from the effort of her little theatrics, Ren didn't try to answer. "Phenomenal."
When it was clear she was at the end of her rope, and when her nervous smile stretched the very limits of her cheekbones in the effort to outdo creepy dolls, Ren found the words to question. "Ruby, what are you doing?"
In an instant her energy dissipated, her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth wobbled and her shoulders deflated, hanging her head in a low hunch. "I have no idea how to carry a conversation with you."
He blinked twice before it set in, a frown naturally brewing underneath. Was that an insult? What did he do? "Why? Is something wrong?"
Immediately, her head was shaking and her arms were limply springing up like they'd lost all their bones. "No, no!" Ren's hand reached down to grasp her shoulder, holding her in place as she turned sharply off-balance in her panic. Her fingers landed on her flushing cheeks while her eyes met the ground. "It's just, we've never really talked much."
A furrowed brow and a small snort broke out from Ren. "You're being a bit over the top there, Ruby. We've spoken plenty of times." He didn't even need to mull it over, confidently pointing a bony finger towards Ruby. "You haven't already forgotten our debate on the latest episode of the 'Dreary Hour', have you? It was the night before we went on our last fatal mission."
And immediately, Ruby pushed the prideful finger down with a quirked brow. "Pretty sure that was Blake. I've literally never seen an episode of that show."
He opened his mouth to protest her faulty memory only to hear the biting commentary on Blake's particular distaste for a character zip by his ear, as if his brain couldn't keep up with his own assuredness. "Well… You should, it's a good one." Idly, his fingers clicked together repeatedly, sounding like a clock struggling to move onto the next tick. His other hand dug into the base of his shirt, tugging on keywords scattered across his mind. His shirt, shirt, chest, over chest, jacket- No, apron. Apron! "What about-"
"Nope, Yang." Ruby seemed to bounce up on the back of her healthy foot, slowly swaying with the hint of an amused smile creasing into her cheeks.
Ren simply crossed his arms at the sudden status switch, with him now the unsure awkward teen while she slowly gained a foothold in her own confidence. "There was no way you could have possibly known what I was-"
On her tiptoes she pushed off of to reach Ren's shoulder, pushing herself higher and higher with every successful retort; her grin now blazing hot. "You were trying to teach her how to cook, but she ended up destroying the kitchen after her hair got caught in the mixer." At Ren's utter dismay communicated solely through incredulous blinks, Ruby leaned back and stuck up a condescending finger in the upright wagging position. "Me and Nora spent, like, hours cleaning that up."
Ren thereby rescinded his protests and sank into a limb stroll as the two picked up the pace once more. "Huh… Guess you're right." He had to admit, it was a fact that made him feel guilty. RWBY, JNPR, Ace-Ops, they were all friends in his mind and he'd spent more time in the company of Ruby as Team RNJR than he'd even spent with JNPR. Did he really never engage with his secondary team leader for anything outside of battle strategy? She'd been responsible for pulling them through so many skirmishes (which still counted even if it turned out to all be virtual), so many points of insurmountable odds, even through their lowest moments where it felt like the world was crashing down on them. The least she deserved was for him to make a better effort to get to know her. "Well, no time like the present, as they say." He collected himself, speaking without any hint to betray the shame coating his heart as he spoke. Ren would make the effort now.
Of course, despite the promise, it all came back to the long, drawn out silence as the two struggled against the ultimate foe: a conversation topic. In such a difficult time, Ruby once more proved herself to be the fearless leader by taking the first step again in spearheading this delicate situation of friendship. "So… What's 'The Dreary Hour'?"
"Oh, it's great." In a sea of confusion, Ruby cast out a lifeboat and Ren gripped onto it for dear life with a new surge of passion. "It's like an anthology of different off-the-wall concepts. Like, one episode is 'What if gravity stopped working?', or 'What if Grimm started talking?' or 'What if your pocket had an infinite amount of space?'." Luckily enough, it seemed he managed to explain his hobby well enough, Ruby's eyes narrowing into natural focus, hanging onto his word, and showing genuine interest in the show. He'd tried talking about it with Nora once, but she never could carry the conversation without walking into a different subject due, brain one step ahead of everyone on a rush of pancakes and syrup.
"Didn't Robyn Hill's friend do that?" She was poking under her chin now, pushing her head back to look skyward, memories stretching over the dark blue canvas above.
Ren admitted that he hardly knew the specifics of The Happy Huntress's, only vaguely recalling their images on a news screen during election night. He would have found it hard to miss the armed outlaws acting as guards for the event, but he had been occupied with a sudden case of 'Personal Display of Affection'. A messy night overall. "Which one, the large one with the defined nose?" It was the only image that stuck with him. As he recalled, Weiss had gone on a scathing rant about a relative of hers. Something Mary Old.
"No, no. The little goat girl." For further demonstration, Ruby held her hand out flat, shrinking the height of the imaginary individual while her other hand wiggled her fingers behind her ears. A gesture Ren was sure would be considered offensive towards Goat Faunus.
"Huh, I didn't know that." The nature of semblances had always been a slot machine of oddities for Ren, some would be relatively mundane while others would border on unbelievable magic. The output of one's soul could range to such bizarre concepts that it muddied the lines between fiction and fantasy, shaking Ren with more questions than he ever wanted to be settled with, especially when Salem came into the picture.
While Ren was drifting through thoughts, Ruby had thrown her arms out wide, lips stretched wide as she continued with her feverish descriptions. "Yeah, apparently she sucked up a whole truck once. I have no idea how it works, but it sounds so cool!" With a slight smirk, Ren thought to add how that could be used to describe most semblances, where mechanics were more of a guessing game than an absolute science. He wouldn't have been surprised to find out his semblance did far more than hide from Grimm. Huh. He hadn't thought about it until then, about his semblance. That was his semblance in the game, but did he still have such a thing in reality? Did he have the same semblance? How could he tell if he didn't know what he had?
He kept up the joking exterior as his mind glanced elsewhere, raising one judgmental brow as he looked over at Ruby. "If she wasn't basically a domestic terrorist, right?"
As Ruby sunk into a nervous solo huddle, a quivering laugh forcing itself to be heard, Ren tried to focus himself. Before, when everything was 'normal' he didn't have a hard time triggering his semblance. It was a matter of focusing on his target and letting his calmness spread outwards, wrapping whoever in a quilt of dulled colors and silenced passion. "Uh, yeah. Of course." Ruby's response was the only thing Ren heard. No subdued pop in his ears that he associated with his semblance, no shift in his vision, no leak in his heart; his semblance was lost to him.
"Wish I could do that, is all." With his focus brought back to Ruby, he noted the sudden frown as her shoulders sunk. She rasped her knuckles against her thigh in discontent, but even that soft gesture drew a sharp grimace of pain from her tear ducts. "Wish I could do anything better than this, really."
Ren hesitated, but his fingers found their way onto Ruby's shoulders, giving a comforting squeeze. It was the most basic form of comfort he knew and, thankfully, it seemed to calm her nerves and numb the pain, if even only a little bit. "How can one do better than you, Ruby?"
Her breath whistled as she drew air through her chipped front tooth, as if she couldn't even afford the effort of sighing. "Having a working leg would be a good start." She shrugged, a harsh edge to her voice as her head snapped away from view. He could practically hear the gritting of her teeth even though the quiet volume of her distress. "I don't need my superspeed back, but I'd like to go more than ten steps without being slapped over the head with how weak I am."
"You're not weak." He spoke with hesitation, without missing a second; it had been the most confident statement he'd made all week. However, it was not convincing enough for Ruby.
"That right? Because I feel pretty weak." Her chin made circles in the air, curving with the momentum of her head bobbing at a sullen pace. In idle grouchiness, her foot attempted to kick away a crushed soup can on the drowsy street path, only managing to send the can a brisk few inches. "I couldn't make a Beowolf look twice."
Ren found it in him to roll his eyes at the choice of description. "You know, most normal people would find it best to flee from monsters."
"I'm not normal people." There was a harsh crack in her voice complimented by an audible choke. "At least, I wasn't supposed to be." A pause let her eyes squeeze shut, another embarrassed groan following. "I didn't mean to sound like… Gah, forget it." She drew her hand across her beet red cheeks, wiping away the cold sweat like it was rainwater stinging her eyes. "It's just, I liked being a hero, a leader. Someone people could rely on. I could run faster than a speeding bullet, leapfrog off of Grimm most people would wet themselves over and even flash a cheeky silver eye to show off."
"Ruby…"
Her head was in her hands by this point and Ren almost thought she was crying, but it seemed to just be the sweat so far. Still, she'd come to a complete stop, crouching down with her teeth digging into her bottom lip. "No, stop it. I didn't… I didn't mean it like that." Paler than usual, her own brand of bitter self-loathing infested her voice. "Listen to me, I sound like such a brat."
Figuring she wouldn't appreciate him trying to touch her again, Ren stuck with standing while gazing down at the clump of glistening hair, arms crossed. "So, your average 17-year-old girl, huh?"
The comment only seemed to make her break into a pensive frown. "Being a huntress was fun, yes. I'll admit it, I loved that rush, but I'm not…" She shook her head, choking out a growl as her fingers clenched her forehead. "I'm not trying to sound selfish or like a glory hog or something."
After a moment of internal debate, Ren was down there, roughly the same eye level and aching his knees to hell and back. But he knew it was worth it as they locked eyes, two pairs of lost souls trying to help one another find the light. "You miss having the ability to help people, right?"
She sighed. That's all she could do to protest, just sigh. She was starting to feel the age of her new persona and the lifetime of weariness. "I always wanted to be a hero, still do. But how can I help people if I can't even walk for a minute without feeling my lungs scream?" In a bout of bitter, painful laughter, she struck a pathetic pose, making an exaggerated finger-wagging motion as she put on a 'dramatic' voice. "Never fear, Citizens! I'll put a stop to that beastly menace, just as long as a gentle breeze doesn't drag me away." The laughter, as forced as it was fake, faded as quickly as it overcame her, leaving nothing but bitter, bitter reality.
It was a full minute before another word was spoken, a full minute of Ren opening up his mouth, only to clamp it shut as confidence abandoned his words to die quickly. "I don't know what I can say to ease your frustration." He finally admitted, not averting Ruby's gaze, but not exactly meeting it either. He didn't want to see her disappointment, not now, not like this. He needed her to see that he wasn't like her, neither was Jaune, Blake, or anyone else, they couldn't empower the latent optimism or simplicity in the hearts of those she needed to. Not like she could. "All I can tell you is what I think, and even without all your skill, grace, and powers; you're still the leader here. You lost a lot, but you haven't lost what made me and Jaune follow you half-way across the world." He didn't have a speech, he reminded himself as his head dropped, he had not the words nor the power. He could make simple statements, he could say what the truth was, what the answer she needed to hear, but only she could make herself and everyone else believe it. Because she was Ruby Rose. "Your… Uh…"
"My impeccable fashion sense?" He froze in place for that moment, not expecting her to interrupt or even speak yet. At the very least, he immediately felt his heart jump when he recognized the smidge of humor in her tone.
"Your personality? Determination? I'm not good at speeches…" Tripping over his words with ill confidence, he took a chance and rose to meet her eye; she was smiling. Ever so slightly, she was smiling.
The finger tapping against her nose sealed it for him, a cheeky and simple addition that only Ruby could make feel complicated. "I think you're trying to say, heart?" The smile grew an inch wider.
"Heart? Heart! Yes, that's a good word for it." His hands came together loudly, perhaps too loudly, without thinking, his eyes widening as her expression only grew. "You haven't lost your… Well, you get the picture."
Before long it was her hand resting on his shoulder, beaming up at him with dryer skin and her voice back the way it should be. "It's the thought that makes me melt inside, Ren." It was a joke, of course, but he could still feel that she was serious in her meaning. He expected it to end there, a simple nod between friends and then they'd move on. However, Ruby of course had to make complexity from simplicity, springing to her feet (with a grimace) with her arms cast wide open. "Bring it in!"
Standing in the middle of the street, ignorant masses paying him no mind and a childish leader demanding a hug; Ren felt awkward. "…Do I have to?" It were as if he stood on a stage, presenting his insecurities and sensitive touch to an audience he could never see, but was always aware of.
In true Ruby fashion, when she didn't get what she wanted, she puffed out her cheeks and jammed her thumb into the air. He was sure it was some common gesture of leadership because he recalled Jaune doing it quite a few times. Of course, that might have just been the Blonde Blunderer following in the footsteps of his beloved Huntress. "I'm still the leader, Captain's orders!" The way her fingers wiggled like wet fries and her eyebrows dripped as if they were waiting for an implication to drop, Ren had half the mind to assume there was some sinister subtext he was missing for the moment. "Bring in the brotherly love!"
He wasn't proud of how fast he caved, after years with the sugar-coated energy of Nora, you'd think patience and endurance would be at their peak. "Fine." And yet, he was quickly disarmed by her childish expressions, poised on her tiptoes and quivering lower lip.
Previously, he could visualize her grinding teeth, but as he bent down to embrace her tiny form (in a view that would be sure to make Jaune melt with jealousy) the only thing his mind could think of was Yang's trademark grin that was 100% guaranteed to make one want to break her jaw. "See, isn't this nice?" And the taunting didn't make it any more bearable.
"People are starting to stare." He lied, he wouldn't dare bring his eyes up to face the crowd from this position no matter the curiosity.
"With jealousy!" Her arms were completely immobilized and yet he could still feel them as if they were being yanked back and forth.
"Looks more like sympathy…" He grumbled softly. "I never realized how small you are."
"I'm not small," She protested with as much confidence as she had with her 'normal knees'. "Jaune says I'm fun-sized."
Ah yes, Ren thought, the unbiased conclusion of the boy who was drooling over her as a dog drools for meat. Ruby could have put a garbage bag on her head and Jaune would still look at her like he was experiencing puberty all over again. "I call for a second opinion."
She pulled away with a look that Ren assumed was supposed to be mocking sophistication. Nose raised high, as if balancing imaginary spectacles upon the bridge, and shoulders perfectly symmetrical. "As the supreme judge of the Court of Ruby Affairs: Request denied."
"Guess I can't beat corruption in the system." Ren's eyes drifted away from Ruby to add further irritation to his bitter acceptance of failure, the regime of the rose being just too powerful. But in that moment, he seemed to lose himself once more, once again, the bright hues of the city drained of color, the crowd melting into a stilted sea, all so his heart could choke itself on the image of bright orange hair zipping through the sea od faded color and into the nearest store.
"Ren, you're staring off into space again."
It wasn't an image, barely even a thought, just a flash of cruelty upon his soul that appeared to him at random and quickly vanished. "I was just…" His voice sounded rough, no moisture to it, just dry disappointment. "Nevermind."
Watching his face falter under the stress of distress, Ruby's hand quickly found his, squeezed tightly, and yanked him forward with as bright a smile as she could muster. "Oh, look, I see a 'Staff Wanted' sign!"