Chapter 18
Out of the Frying Pan
Jacob Frost regarded Carmine's laptop, folded into a tablet form, the scrawny teenager leaning in to whisper further commentary into the older man's ear from time to time. Watts watched with an air of cool detachment, barely registering when the blonde waitress set a dingy plate down in front of him, the greasy, artery-clogging concoction still sizzling angrily for a moment. A steaming mug of coffee clinked into the plate as she set it down, low-quality flatware wrapped tightly in a paper napkin following immediately after. Arthur hesitated for a moment, before deciding on nonchalance as the better approach, unwrapping his fork and taking a nibble at his hash. It was savory and salty in the extreme, but as promised, quite a hearty and filling dish.
"Just like mother used to make," Watts remarked dryly after finishing a bite.
"Well, I'm just glad I can give you a little taste of home here in Vale. They do say food can heal the body and soul. I'm just ever so glad you've recovered from that unfortunate case of death you had a few years back." Frost added with a knowing smirk.
"Well, one does make do when one doesn't wish to be found," Watts replied, dabbing at the corner of his mouth with a napkin.
"Or when one wishes to take on the identity of another," Frost countered. "You are quite the puzzle, aren't you?"
"I do despise being boring," Watts replied, taking a sip from his mug and doing his best not to gag at the swill that Mel dared to call coffee.
"So tell me again, why should I believe you are who you claim to be? Arthur Watts is officially dead as a doornail, complete with a charred, mangled corpse and autopsy to go with it. Nasty business, that."
"You wish to verify my bonafides," Arthur stated, nodding once as he set his mug on the table. "Very well, ask your questions. I'll answer what I can," he added, steepling his fingers.
"You were a rising star in the inner circles of Atlesian academia, yet ten years ago, you dropped off the map, so to speak. Resigned your position at the University of Atlas under, shall we say, suspicious circumstances, no published papers since. A man of your brilliance not sharing it with the world? Seems rather odd, doesn't it?" Frost asked, peering over the top of his glasses.
"Officially? I was involved with projects involving defense technology. Unofficially? They didn't have the stones to continue my research."
"That's a bold claim."
"No less so than my goals. My advancements in neuromechanical interfaces were groundbreaking, beyond anything anyone else could even dream of building."
"So what happened?"
"Scientific progress is not without risk. There were...unfortunate incidents when we went to live trials. It wasn't my fault they only provided the barest of funding when it came to obtaining test subjects," he grumbled. "The only people I could get at that rate were desperate Faunus willing to risk everything for table scraps. I don't know that their neurological structure was inferior, per se, but there are clear differences in biology at work there, as you well know," he added, raising an eyebrow. "Suffice to say that Councillor Greenwood heard about the deaths, and she had me shut down. Couldn't threaten her voting base with the mongrels of Mantle, and so I was...expendable, my entire career sacrificed on the altar of equality," Watts said, his lips curling into a sneer with the last word.
"And so you decided to fake your own death? That seems a bit extreme, even for someone as clearly passionate as you are." Frost cocked his head skeptically, genuinely curious as to the explanation.
"That was just the start. I was brought into military projects not as a reward but as a leash. They didn't want me getting back to my work, after all. I might have made someone look bad," he added mockingly. "In the end, I chose freedom. Freedom to live a pure, undisturbed life, unfettered by the rules of Kingdoms but loyal to the natural law of Man. Happiness is the exercise of vital powers along lines of excellence in a life affording them scope."
"You know your Plutarkos," Frost commented, increasingly unsurprised as to Watts' erudtion.
"Anyone who wishes to truly harness the power of their mind and spirit should."
"And so now you're wandering Remnant, looking to do favors for whoever strikes your fancy? Seems rather far-fetched, wouldn't you say?"
"Perhaps," Watts began, pausing for effect. "However, this isn't a simple favor, but rather an alignment of goals. You want something, I want something. I believe we can help each other."
"And if I disagree?" Frost asked, weary of being tied to anyone or thing he wasn't familiar with.
"Then I walk out of this fine establishment and you lose nothing but an opportunity," Arthur reassured him.
Frost paused before he answered, regarding Watts with sharp eyes. "All right. Say I believe you. What is it you want?"
"To send a message. Through my work, and yours, that humanity will not be denied its destiny."
"Specifics, please. My coffee is getting cold and I'm growing tired of this banter."
"Of immediate concern? How dedicated is our friend Wilson Goldhamer?"
Frost paused, surprised both by the mention of man's name, and the shift of topic. "Wil? Met him in Atlas during a medical conference. He'd been run out of the Atlesian Army after having some unpleasant words with his new mongrel platoon sergeant. He'd been a supply clerk also, so he fit perfectly as a warehouse manager for Vale General Hospital. Finding each other was serendipity. Shame about his young daughter," Frost said quietly. "She looked so much like my Jacqueline at her age."
"How interested do you think he would be in delivering justice to the man responsible?"
"Very," Frost said flatly.
"Well then, I think I can give him the opportunity. Tell him to be on the roof of the Wainwright building Wednesday morning by ten a.m. He'll have the means provided and the opportunity will be self-evident once it presents itself."
"The Wainwright building?" Frost asked, more from uncertainty than not knowing its location.
"Yes. It's three blocks from the courthouse, and immediately adjacent his place of employment, offering him an alibi in the highly unlikely event he's questioned."
Jacob pondered that information but a moment before current events meshed neatly with it and he offered Watts the barest hint of a smile. "That sounds difficult, but I'm sure Wil is up for the challenge."
"I know he's capable, just not if he's committed. I've seen his training file."
"He'll be there. I'll guarantee he won't pass up an opportunity to lay Anna completely to rest."
"Good to hear."
"I will admit, I am curious as to your stake in the matter."
"If he truly is guilty of all he's been accused of, then he doesn't deserve to spend the rest of his natural life sitting safe and sound in the Freezer, all at taxpayer expense."
"And if he isn't?"
"Then he's simply a career criminal who doesn't deserve to spend the rest of his natural life sitting safe and sound in the Freezer, all at taxpayer expense. For humanity to proceed into a new, golden age, the undesirable elements need to be carved out, much like you would a tumor. All in all, it's five minutes of work for a brighter future for Vale," Watts concluded with a satisfied smirk.
"All right, I'll tell him. What else?"
"The seven names I've given you. I believe Vale needs to be purified, don't you? Cut them off at the knees."
"Why not just go after their contacts in the Vale Police Department?" Frost asked, making sure he understood the motivations and logic of his prospective partner.
"Do you really want that conflict to become personal? I assure you, killing cops only gets the rest of them exceptionally motivated, not to mention the issue of public sentiment. Removing their White Fang handlers and exposing them for what they are removes the channels of communication, and sends a message to the Fang, the police, and Vale itself." Watts paused a moment before continuing.
"The police can't acknowledge their relationship with the mongrels without exposing themselves to scrutiny, either for failing to stop the breach of Vale, or their corruption, and so, will not give the matter any more attention than would normally be warranted. The Fang will think twice about sending operatives into the police department, unable to fully trust their previous contacts. Lastly, Vale will be reassured that the Brotherhood will take action to protect them even when their government will not," Watts concluded. "Trilateral symmetry isn't easy, but it is beautiful when achieved."
"Fair enough I suppose. I'll make arrangements to begin the reconnaissance. We do need to verify your information, after all."
"Understandable. Do keep in mind that information does carry an expiration date."
"I know. Perhaps a week to line everything up? Not much more than that," he reassured Watts.
"Good. I've got another few favors to ask, but with attendant benefits to you as well. I can tell you unequivocally that your communications aren't as secure as they should be, but I can rectify that with the right equipment."
"Like what?"
"I need to obtain a microchip printer capable of thirteen nanometer resolution or better, but there isn't one in the entirety of Vale. Yet," Watts clarified. "Vale TeleComm has ordered one from Atlas, scheduled to arrive via ship on Thursday. They want to be able to manufacture the newest generation Scrolls locally instead of having to order them from abroad. Unfortunately for them, the container manifest has been slightly altered. It'll take them a day or two to manually verify every container's contents, during which time I believe one of your associates can make something happen," he stated smoothly, cutting his gaze to one of the burly gentlemen keeping him wedged in place. "The details are on the drive as well."
"Oh, and here I thought there wasn't enough we could do for you," Frost remarked dryly.
"Rest assured, I'll have your equipment done before I start with my own. You can even have young mister Harris here supervise. He might even learn something from me."
Jacob cut his gaze to his side, Carmine Harris giving him a noncommittal shrug "Sure, I guess. Dude's encryption protocols are pretty slick," he spoke up, slightly bloodshot eyes from his time spent staring at a screen regarding Arthur with detached curiosity.
"You'll have to forgive the youth of today for their lack of visible enthusiasm, Arthur," Frost interjected with a slightly peeved smirk, getting a roll of the eyes from Carmine. "His father is a good man, and has raised him well, but sometimes…" he trailed off, the implication clear.
"You done with that?" Carmine asked, indicating his laptop.
"Yes, I do believe we've gotten to some common ground. We've both got things to take care of, it seems. How do I…?" Frost began.
"Anonymous comm address on the drive," Watts clarified for him.
"What's your IP masking protocol?" Carmine asked, finally having a subject of interest in the conversation.
"CRO-7, with a few flourishes of my own to make it appear to be something else."
"That's, like, ten years old," the young hacker scoffed.
"And borderline obsolete because of the CPU load, I know, but who would even recognize it these days?" Watts countered. "Besides, it was retired for practicality purposes, not because it was actually ineffective."
"Point," Carmine conceded, folding his laptop and slipping it into a canvas backpack. "I've gotta get going, Doc. Dad wants me to clear out the gutters before the first autumn storms hit."
"Very well, young man, give my regards to your father," Frost said, clapping the youth on the shoulder and sending him on his way. Flo waved him down at the cash register, handing over a styrofoam takeout container and kissing him on the cheek before he left through the front door. "He doesn't look the part, I know, but he's got a bright future ahead of him. Makes me wish I had a son like him," Frost said, waxing nostalgic for a moment.
"I'll take your word for it," Watts replied with a hint of skepticism. "While I would love to stay and chat, I do have other matters requiring my attention, including uncovering your mysterious detractors."
"Indeed. Please do tell me once that's done. I'd like to address the matter...personally," Jacob Frost finished with all the chill of his namesake.
"I believe you would after all, Daikunshu. Please, do enjoy your meal, and thank you for your time. I look forward to our next meeting."
"If we have one."
"Well, that's up to you, isn't it?" Watts replied, rising to his feet. "I look forward to it just the same." He produced a twenty lien card, allowing the plastic to clatter to the table. "For the hospitality and service," he added before Frost could inform him it was on the house. Sliding his wallet back into the inner breast pocket of his coat, Arthur Watts walked out of Mel's with a smug smile on his face.
He'd gotten all he had set out to achieve and then some, finding Frost both a rather charismatic and reasonable man. Just the kind of people he actually enjoyed working with. His connections within Vale were phenomenal, and far more extensive than anyone examining the Sanguine Brotherhood from the outside might have suspected. The occasional wreath burning aside, most people thought them an unfortunate footnote in the history of race relations on Remnant. There hadn't been a confirmed lynching in twenty years. On the surface, things appeared calm and tranquil.
Below it, however, one could note the uptick in what could be termed unfortunate accidents involving the Faunus of Vale. The latest of these had been the tragic hit and run death of Octavius Wolfe, the ensuing sympathy propelling his father into office. The Sanguine Brotherhood was good, Watts could see it. They just needed a little push in the right direction from time to time, perhaps the odd piece of equipment here and there.
"Speaking of which…" Watts muttered softly, pulling his Scroll from his pocket, a short series of taps opening a call. He didn't wait for an answer on the other end before he spoke, knowing full well it wasn't coming anyway. "We're on. Make your delivery as scheduled and proceed as planned," he said tersely before ending the call, his polished wingtips clicking softly against the sidewalk as he cut down an alley, eager to stay out of the public eye as much as feasible.
The Beacon air docks were a flurry of activity, largely dominated by the incoming freshman class filing off the large, whale-like air barge. Returning students were allowed more leeway in their arrival methods and times, and thus were only peppered amongst the rest of the student body.
"Why are we here this early again?" Yang bemoaned, having been the most visible celebrity on the ship, she'd attracted far more attention from the freshmen.
"Because we want to get settled in and get a good night's sleep before the first day of school tomorrow," Weiss reminded her for what seemed like the fiftieth time.
"Boooorriiiing," Yang countered. "Right, Ruby? Ruby?" she asked, looking around until she found Blake pointing towards the girl in question, dangling off the haft of the biggest axe any of them had ever seen.
"Oh my gosh, what caliber?" she breathlessly asked the wielder, a massive mountain of a teenager wearing blue jeans and a red flannel shirt. In Yang's eyes, the beard was a turnoff, but even she could admit he wore it well, the slight curl in his mullet and sturdy boots, not to mention what had to be a converted felling axe, completed the lumberjack aesthetic perfectly.
"Twenty by one thirty-eight," he said, chuckling softly at Ruby's delighted gasp, her eyes going wide as he slid a carrot-sized cartridge from the short bandolier on his thigh to show her. "Break action, because otherwise it'd be too heavy even for me."
"Yeah, I hear that," she said with a little swagger in her voice. Without warning, she reached behind her and spun Crescent Rose into its scythe form, smiling as she showed off her baby, in spite of the slight bobble she had at the end. "Took my Uncle Qrow months to keep Crescent Rose here from swinging me around." She planted the butt end into the ground, the muzzle directly at eye level for the seven foot tall student.
With a booming laugh, he mirrored the gesture, placing the butt end of his own weapon a short distance from Ruby's and aligning it vertically just as she had done. "Well if you can swing that, more power to you," he stated warmly, placing his forearm level, and across the top of his axe handle between the horns of the double-bitted axe head, showing Crescent Rose to be three inches shorter.
"Yeah, well, size isn't everything," Ruby muttered bitterly, frowning and stowing her weapon.
"No it isn't. Nick Argento," he said with a smile, offering what Ruby swore was an Ursa paw to shake rather than a hand.
"Ruby Rose," she said softly, doing her best to be polite in spite of how intimidating the boy was, which wasn't helped by how her hand was swallowed in his.
"Well, look at you! Making friends and everything!" Yang cheered as she walked up to the pair. "I didn't even have to ditch you this time!"
"Oh sure, bring that up," Ruby grumbled.
"Sisters?" Nick asked hesitantly, guessing based on dynamics rather than genetics, it seemed.
"Yup! Nick, this is my sister Yang," Ruby piped up. "Whether I like it or not," she added darkly.
"Oh, shut up, you know you love me."
"I wonder why sometimes," she added darkly.
"Hey now, how about we get to orientation, Ruby?" Nick asked, trying to lighten the mood.
"Whaddya mean, we?" Ruby asked, her face wearing a sour expression.
"I mean, I wasn't trying to imply anything. I'm just trying to make friends with my classmates, you know?"
"I'll have you know, I'm a second year student, and a team leader."
"I...umm, sorry? Honestly, I thought you were younger than me."
"She is," Yang helpfully added.
"Seriously?"
"Yup. Ruby's a straight up prodigy. She's the b…" Yang began before Ruby tackled her to the ground.
"Don't you dare!" she shouted angrily as the two girls began to tussle.
"Iiiiii'll just get going then. Nice to meet you two," Argento announced, familiar with sibling fights.
"Again?" Weiss grumbled, the lack of decorum on the part of her teammates rankling her yet again.
"You're still surprised by this?" Blake replied dryly.
"I shouldn't be, really. It's just...in front of the freshmen?"
"You think any social stigma is going to stop them?"
Weiss could only offer a frustrated sigh in response. "No. I suppose...what is that?" she asked, peering over Blake's shoulder. Blake followed her gaze, finding it centered on a large weapon slung over the back of a lanky girl who was asking for directions.
A hilt nearly two feet long offered the wielder plenty of leverage, the rest of the weapon resembling a large paddle nearly six feet long and ten inches wide. The edges had a series of square notches cut into them, making what would otherwise be an oddly-shaped club into a truly fearsome weapon. The flat of the blade had to have been what caught Weiss' eye, irregularly-carved pockets in the dark ironwood holding raw Dust crystals, the smallest of which was the size of an apple.
"I don't know," Blake answered, only to find that Weiss had already started imperiously heel clicking her way over. "Let's go over and find out," she deadpanned, rolling her eyes before following after Weiss.
"Excuse me?" Weiss asked, getting the girl in question to turn towards her. The girl paused before she shifted her gaze downward, being nearly a foot taller than Weiss. Long, flowing black hair framed what could be seen of her face, a hooded, deep blue cloak trimmed in ivory-colored lace concealing most of it. Skin the color of bronze, yet unmarred by the sun, was visible between her neckline and cheekbones, the rest covered by a loose dress in charcoal grey billowing out from under her cloak, the sleeves clinging to her spindly arms.
"Yes?" the girl replied, her voice thickly accented with the flavor of southern Sanus.
"I was wondering about your weapon, actually."
"What about it?" she asked, her head tilted slightly.
"Well, I couldn't help but notice the Dust crystals you've got installed, I'm quite the Dust connoisseur," she clarified. "I've never seen raw crystals used like that. In fact, there are two of them I didn't even recognize," she added.
"Hello, sorry. I'm Blake Belladonna, and this is my teammate Weiss Schnee," she interjected, surprised that Weiss had forgotten her social graces, getting a chagrined look from the heiress.
"Luz Martinez-Rios," she curtly replied, looking uncomfortable under Weiss' inquisitive gaze, not that Weiss would notice or care. "And those crystals weren't installed, they were grown into the wood. Well, the wood was grown around them. My great grandfather did it."
"How?" Weiss demanded impatiently before getting a gentle elbow in the side from Blake. "I mean, if you don't mind me asking," she added with more humility.
"My Tia Lupe said he had some sort of plant growth Semblance. He was quite popular with farmers wherever he went."
"I can imagine," Blake said, her tone appreciative and her eyebrows raised slightly.
"But that doesn't answer my question, Miss Martinez-Rios." Weiss replied, sounding impatient.
"And why would I answer your question, malcriada?"
"Because I'm..." Weiss huffed before Blake cut her off.
"A fellow student who might need to know if we're ever in a fight together?" she said, hoping Luz would buy the explanation.
"Yes. That," Weiss added, reining in her temper with only slight difficulty.
Luz' posture tensed for a moment as she pondered the logic before slumping slightly as she gave in, reaching over her shoulder to draw the massive macahuitl, resting the flat of the blade across her forearm, presenting it for inspection. "Which ones are you talking about?"
"These two," Weiss said curtly, indicating a turquoise piece carved with geometric patterns twelve inches long and three wide, as well as an irregular lump of what almost looked like gravity Dust, save for the fact that it reflected no light at all.
"This," Luz began, "is naturally-occurring hardlight Dust," she explained of the first, before Weiss cut her off again.
"There's no such thing!"
"Yet there it is," Luz countered. "Do you believe your eyes, or your fancy Atlas schooling, chiflada?" she asked, an edge in her voice.
"How...?" Weiss began, unsure if she was still that famous.
"Your accent."
"I don't have...that's not important," Weiss corrected, shaking her head. "I...may I?" she asked, reaching out a hand towards the crystal before stopping.
"No. He's much stronger than he looks; you might hurt yourself," she cautioned, getting an angrily furrowed brow in response. "Watch." With a single deep breath, Luz conjured her Aura, a deep blue color flaring to life across her body and weapon both. The crystal took on a soft glow as well, before the telltale flare of a hardlight construct took shape, forming a series of sharp, triangular blades protruding two inches from the recessed cutouts, giving the already-fearsome weapon a truly brutal appearance.
Weiss regarded the display with a mix of skepticism and wonder writ large across her face, gingerly poking at one of the saw teeth with a delicate finger, wincing as her Aura blunted the blow. Luz let her concentration slip, the hardlight fields flickering out almost immediately after.
"That's...how?" she finally demanded in bewilderment.
"That used to be part of the scepter of King Carlos the Fifth, the last King of España. He picked it up hunting amongst the ruins."
"The Mines of España are a myth. Something every wildcatter in the Solitan Reaches tells tall tales about," Weiss stated in hushed tones.
"They're very real, and very dangerous. Only the truly desperate try to find them any more."
Weiss pondered the girl's words for a moment before opening her scroll, holding it above each crystal for a moment before moving to the next. "This can't be right either. The only dead crystal is that black one; everything else shows no signs of degradation."
"That is how my great grandfather shaped it."
"Wait, you can't remove them? What happens if you need to replace one?"
"I don't."
"That's not possible," Weiss asserted, though her voice was filled with doubt.
"And why not?"
"Because a weapon-grade crystal that size doesn't have the kind of mass to retain charge from repeated use."
"And what do you think she is there for?" she asked, pointing a black-lacquered nail at the somehow blacker crystal.
"You still haven't told me what that is," Weiss countered.
"Raise your Aura and touch it."
Weiss raised a skeptical eyebrow before doing so, gingerly touching a fingertip to the matte black crystal. A slight hiss could be heard almost immediately and Weiss flinched back, shaking feeling back into her hand. "It's...cold," she said softly, almost at a loss for words.
"She's a little hungry from the demonstration you demanded," Luz replied with the first hint of a smile either Weiss or Blake had seen from her during the entire conversation. "That crystal feeds on Aura, channeling it into raw power that fuels the other crystals. You get used to the chill after a while," she added, her melancholy tone telling them that it was far from an easy process.
"That...that shouldn't exist either. Entropy dust is purely theoretical."
"Listen, pendeja…" Luz began before turning to Blake instead of laying into the heiress. "Does she have a habit of always being wrong, or is she just stupid?" Luz asked, getting a smirk from Blake in response.
"Why you…" Weiss began before Blake cut her off again.
"Weiss has some...inconvenient preconceptions. Please don't hold that against her."
"I'm standing right here, you know," she growled.
"And yet you're not paying attention. You asked what those were, and I answered you. I've got better things to do than stand here and try to convince you that the sky is blue. Adios," Luz spat at a shocked Weiss, slinging her weapon over her back again and trudging angrily towards the main auditorium.
"And here I thought Ruby was terrible at making new friends," Blake chimed in, quite pleased to be able to needle Weiss.
"Blake, that crystal is one of the greatest scientific finds in the history of Dust science! It could change everything we know about Dust!" Weiss hissed vehemently at her.
"And maybe if you hadn't been so pushy, you might have been able to study it yourself," Blake shot back, Weiss shrinking a bit from the rebuke.
"I'll just have to get back in her good graces, that's all," she muttered.
"Good luck with that," Blake deadpanned, looking back over her shoulder to find Coco Adel prying Ruby and Yang apart, scolding them both. She shook her head, smirking softly because she wasn't the one who had to deal with the sisters' antics for once. Turning back to Weiss, she found her on her Scroll, typing away on her messaging app. "Who's that?" she asked, not particularly caring, but curious nonetheless.
"Someone who's got a better appreciation for my talents than the rest of you," Weiss replied bitterly. "And someone I need to meet with to take care of business. I'll catch up with you later," she added, perfectly balancing haste with dignity as she marched quickly off towards the center of campus.
Blake briefly pondered following her, but was brought up short by Coco marching her two teammates over. Yang was being led by her twisted ear, Ruby dangling by her cloak. "Do these belong to you?"
"Would you believe me if I said no?" Blake asked flatly.
Coco actually had enough good humor left to chuckle at the joke before shaking her head. "No. Keep them out of trouble, please? My team has work to do tomorrow morning, and I don't have time to be dealing with this crap. You're upperclassmen now, act like it," she growled as she shoved Ruby and Yang into Blake's arms.
"Rude," Ruby muttered, dusting herself off. Yang simply grumbled at the rough treatment, rubbing at her tender ear.
"Where'd Weiss cream wander off to?" Yang asked.
"She said she had something to take care of, and would catch up later."
"Wasn't she the one wanting us to be here early?"
"Well, we're here, so let's get our things dropped off. I want to swing by the library and pick up a few books anyway," Blake answered, the loss of her precious book collection during the dormitory fire at the end of last year a sting she still felt.
"And maybe we can set up our bunk beds!" Ruby added hopefully.
Blake and Yang both looked at each other, a split second silent conversation passing between them. They both decided that this wasn't a hill worth dying on.
"Sure, Ruby," Yang allowed with a smile. "As soon as I get these tangles out of my hair," she added with a sadistic grin.
"That'll take hours!" Ruby whined.
"And whose fault is that?"
"I regret nothing!"
"Why do I associate with you two again?" Blake asked rhetorically.
"You love us?" Ruby replied cheerily.
"We liven up your life, kitty cat. Admit it."
"I suppose life would be a little more boring without you," Blake allowed, a smile slowly creeping onto her lips.
"Was that so hard to admit?" Yang asked with a big grin, throwing her arm over Blake's shoulders.
"I guess not. Do we know which dorm we're in?" she asked, hoping to get out of the crowd and into the relative quiet that was the Team RWBY dorm room.
"Yeah, lemme see here," Ruby replied, opening her Scroll. "It says Crystal Hall, 205. Aaaand, this way!" she cheerfully pronounced, pointing through the crowd.
"That's Vale," Blake corrected her.
Yang elected to simply lift her sister up and turn her in the opposite direction.
"Stupid screen tilt," Ruby grumbled softly. "This way?" she asked tentatively.
"Close enough, sis," Yang replied with a knowing smile.
"Aaaand two oh five, here we are!" Yang announced, wheeling around on her other two teammates, Blake with her nose in a book and Ruby dropping her pack onto the floor of the hallway. "Weiss still hasn't caught up?" she asked, her smile faltering just a bit at her teammate's absence ever since the air docks.
"She said she had to take care of something; didn't say what. Probably just arranging for more luggage to be delivered," Blake answered indifferently, turning a page.
"Well, that means she gets last dibs on the beds then!" Yang replied eagerly, pulling her Scroll out and swiping over the door mechanism, getting a positive chirp, green light and a click before she threw the door open and marched inside. "Oh this is awesome! We get two…" she cried jubilantly before going silent.
"We're totally doing bunk beds again this...year...?" Ruby trailed off as her sister reemerged from the dorm room, white as a sheet. "What?"
"Nope. Just...nope," she muttered as she closed the door behind her.
"What's wrong, Yang?" Ruby asked.
"I did not just see that." she whispered in horror, opening her Scroll and double checking the BEST app. She looked again at the number plate on the door, then back to her Scroll then the door again. "Okay, what the actual fuck!?" she shouted angrily before pounding on the door. "You two get some clothes on and get the fuck out of our dorm room!"
"What's going on?" Blake asked, closing her book to address the issue.
"I...they…" she stammered, looking to her sister and trying to frame the conflict in terms she felt comfortable telling the adorable little cinnamon roll standing before her. "It's…" she began before the door behind her opened half way, revealing Sky Lark, a sheen of sweat on his bare torso, wearing blue jeans with an unfastened belt and nothing else.
"What the hell, Xiao Long?"
"What are you two doing in our room? Aside from the obvious?"
"Your room!? This is Team CRDL's dorm," he retorted. "How'd you unlock the door?"
"Scroll lock, duh," Yang replied, waving the device in front of his nose. "Speaking of," she added, tapping at her Scroll to bring up the BEST app again. "See? Student directory, Team RWBY, Crystal Hall, room 205. CRDL is on the third floor, 312."
"Lemme see that," Sky demanded, grabbing the Scroll while still in Yang's hand. "Okay, what the actual fuck?" he muttered.
"That's what I said," Yang growled, cracking her knuckles ominously, Ember Celica a flick of the wrist away from dispensing a beatdown.
"Hey, Russ, grab that printout, and my Scroll, too." A few seconds later, a folded piece of paper and Scroll were tapped on Sky's shoulder. He grabbed them both, shoving the printout in Yang's direction while he opened his Scroll to rebut Yang's claim. Sky swiped the device against the door lock, only to be rebuffed with a politely firm buzz and red light.
"What the? This changed! Look at the paperwork! I printed it out Friday night before I left the house."
Yang peered closely at the paper, her own face now a mask of confusion. Trying to reconcile the conflicting information, she returned to her Scroll. "Says here RWBY was assigned room 205 by Professor Ozpin on Saturday afternoon."
"Damn it!" Sky barked.
"Wait. If you can't open the door, how did you get in?" Ruby asked.
"We got here early Saturday morning; haven't left the room since. Russell was feeling sick after his flight."
"Oh, so that's what you were doing, huh? Taking his temperature?" Yang scoffed.
"He's feeling better," he muttered.
"Uh-huh," she replied dubiously.
"What?" her sister asked, now thoroughly confused.
"I'll tell you later, Ruby."
"O...kay."
"Meanwhile, like I said, pack your shit and get out, Sky," Yang reiterated.
"Ugh, fine. Give us a little bit. We already unpacked everything," Sky replied, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
"Trust me, I noticed. Besides, it looked like you were already busy packing. Ten minutes."
"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, closing the door behind him.
"And take the linens with you!" she shouted through the door getting a muffled shout in reply.
"What was that all about?" Blake asked, shoving her book into her pack.
Yang's eyes flitted to her sister, who looked just as puzzled as Blake, before she hit upon a course of action, her lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Remember last year, when that hilarious practical joker got ahold of Cardin's Scroll and sent out that important Scrollmail that had the educational video attached?"
"The one that every student in Beacon got except me?" Ruby asked.
"That sure was weird, wasn't it?" Yang replied, her gaze drifting away down the hall.
"The one that nobody would show me, and they wouldn't tell me why?" she continued, her voice growing testy.
"Like I said, weird."
"The one that every time I asked, they looked at you like you were Death incarnate?" Ruby added, hovering dangerously close to a growl now.
"I get that all the time, Ruby," she scoffed, dismissing the allegation with a wave of her hand.
"Wait," Blake interjected, "You were the Meatspin Menace?" she asked, aghast at the connection she'd formed in her head.
"It's a crap nickname," Yang muttered.
"So then...Sky?" Blake asked in disbelief, her index finger pointing to her right in the young man's general direction.
"Yup."
"And...Russell?" she continued, her finger swinging left.
"Like a windmill in a hurricane," Yang completed the thought, grinning at her unsubtle innuendo.
Blake blinked once. "I did not need that image in my head," she said softly, her eyes wide in horror.
"What?" Ruby asked, now thoroughly confused by her teammates' conversation.
"I'll let your sister explain," she deflected. "She's the one who actually saw it."
"Ugh, don't remind me."
"Yang?"
"I'll tell you later, Ruby," she said dismissively. "In like...fifteen years."
"Gah! You're sounding like Dad again!"
"You take that back!" Yang fired back angrily.
"Oh, hey guys!" they heard from behind them. They turned to find a casually-dressed Nora standing in the doorway to JNPR's dorm, located across the hall once again. "Thought I heard something out here."
"Hey, Nora," Yang replied, offering and receiving a fist bump from her favorite gym partner. "Nice to see we've got good neighbors again."
"Oh, cool! You down the hall?"
"No, we're in here," she answered, indicating the door with a hitched thumb.
"I thought CRDL was in there," Nora replied, her eyebrow crooking upward.
"So did they, apparently," Blake clarified as Yang pounded on the door again.
"You said ten minutes!" came the mostly discernible reply from inside.
"You kicked 'em out, huh?"
"Nah, Ozpin did," Yang replied. "Hey, Ren."
"Hello, ladies," he said evenly, standing directly behind Nora.
"RWBY is across the hall again this year, Renny! Can you say 'slumber party', Pyrrha?" she asked over her shoulder.
"You know it!" Yang replied enthusiastically.
"Yes!" Ruby added.
"Hello again!" Pyrrha chimed in as she stepped out of the dorm room, gently nudging her two teammates aside.
"Hey, P-money! How're you guys settling in?"
"Well enough, I suppose. The new dorm layout has been...interesting," she said cryptically.
"Yeah, harder to get a peek at your boytoy without his shirt, huh?"
"Nah, we're partnered up in here," Nora added helpfully. "Besides, not like we didn't get a show this morning, huh, Pyr-Pyr?"
"That wasn't exactly the point, Nora."
"Ooh, moving quick, huh?"
"Not exactly, no," she said, mostly succeeding at keeping the disappointment out of her voice.
"You sure you don't want me to pound some sense into him?"
"No!" Pyrrha shot back vehemently before she took a breath to calm down. "That's not necessary, I promise."
"If you say so," Yang replied with a shrug. "Speaking of, where is Vomit Boy?"
"Fearless Leader, you mean?" Nora replied testily.
"Potato, tomato," Yang answered, waving off the question with her hand.
"Jaune had to take care of submitting his class selections and a few other things. He said it might take a while," Pyrrha said, looking around for a moment before her face got a curious look on it. "Where's Weiss?"
"She said she had some things to take...care...of," Ruby replied, going from chipper to worried in a second.
"You don't think…" Yang began, glancing at her sister while Blake retrieved her Scroll and opened it.
"She's in the Combat Arts building," Blake announced flatly.
"That was quick," Yang muttered.
"I tweaked her Scroll's locator settings while she was asleep last night," Blake clarified nonchalantly.
"Ooh, nice one kitty cat," she complimented her partner, who merely rolled her eyes at the nickname.
"It gets us through your brilliant ideas more quickly."
"I knew you loved me, Blake!"
"Aaaaand Jaune-Jaune is...in the Combat Arts building," Nora informed everyone, her own curiosity piqued as she looked up from her own Scroll.
"That's an odd coincidence." Blake said, an eyebrow raised.
"Bound to be deserted this time of night with dinner being served. Perfect for a little romantic rendezvous," Yang added with a grin and suggestively wiggling eyebrows.
"He said they were just friends," Pyrrha began quietly, sounding hurt to Yang's ears.
"Hate to be the bearer of bad news, Red, but those two ditched us and snuck off into Vale yesterday morning to go 'shopping'," Yang said with air quotes for the last word.
"No. I refuse to believe he'd lie to me," Pyrrha said softly to no one in particular.
"Only one way to find out," Yang replied with a knowing smile.
"I...no, I trust my partner, Yang," she said steadily.
"We do need to stow our weapons," Blake suggested with a shrug, well aware that Yang would not be dissuaded.
"Yeah! And if you guys wanted to tag along to catch up, that's totally not spying, right?"
"I...guess not," Pyrrha remarked.
"Perfect!" Yang exclaimed victoriously. "Can we leave our bags in your room for now? Ours is being cleaned and had better be done by the time we get back!" she shouted through the closed door.
"Sure!" Nora piped up, always ready for mischief. Ruby, Blake and Yang dropped their backpacks on the floor just inside JNPR's door as Nora clambered onto Ren for a slothback ride. "Onward, faithful steed!" she ordered, her mount dutifully lumbering forward towards the staircase at a brisk walking pace, the rest of the girls following after.
The six friends crept forward slowly, the muffled conversation they were homing in on growing louder with each stealthy step. Blake led the way as the resident infiltrator, and Pyrrha reluctantly formed the rearguard, their four friends squished between the two of them. A raised hand from their point woman brought the group up short, Ruby smacking into Yang's backside before Nora's body collided with her, nearly collapsing the entire group. Yang's mouth opened to shush them all but Blake's hand covered it preemptively, her amber eyes narrowed to cow the rest of the group. As they all finally settled down just outside the open door to one of the larger sparring rooms, they could all hear their quarry in conversation, their eyes going wide as they could make out the words.
"I must admit, Jaune, that I didn't think you had that kind of performance in you."
"Well, you're pretty inspiring when you want to be," Jaune said with a chuckle, sounding out of breath.
"Remember that you asked for this."
"I suppose I did. I didn't think you'd set such a hard pace to start. I had trouble keeping up."
"You've got a lot of improvement to make. Thankfully, you have the stamina to keep up with my technique."
"Barely," he scoffed. "But seriously, thank you. I know if I'd tried to handle this myself, I would have just made a mess everywhere."
"Your strokes are crude, but effective. At the very least, I don't have to tell you to put more into them. The power you've managed to develop is actually quite impressive."
"I try my best."
"You'd better. You've got a lot of improvement to make before I can be publicly associated with you," Weiss replied testily.
Ouch Yang mouthed, a sympathetic grimace on her face, while Ruby was far redder than Yang might have liked given the conversation they were eavesdropping upon, while Pyrrha looked like someone had taken away her puppy.
"So you're saying there's a chance."
"You know what I meant," she replied testily. A quiet moment followed, broken only by the sound of the larger of the two shifting position.
"Another round?"
"Already?" Weiss asked in disbelief.
"Never know when we might have this much time to ourselves again."
"Put that thing away! We don't have time for that right now!" she protested.
Yang failed to suppress a snort of laughter at that one, no matter how much she wished to.
"Besides, everyone else is here spying on us," Weiss growled.
"Again?" Jaune grumbled as they stepped to the door and peeked around the corner. "Guys, seriously?"
The reaction to finding the pair in full combat dress rather than… less… was varied from nonchalance on Ren's part through Yang's disbelief and Pyrrha's outright relief, though the last was tempered with a hint of anger. Jaune's hair was plastered to his scalp with sweat, a fine sheen on his face and neck, while Weiss was her typically immaculate self.
"You said you were taking care of school matters, Jaune," his partner scolded gently.
"I was." He shrugged "I finished and found out Weiss had made it to Beacon, and she agreed to meet and give me some pointers. She's been using a sword for, well, forever, and I figured she could help me learn some things. I asked her yesterday, and she was nice enough to agree to it."
"So you didn't ask her on a date?" Ruby asked, an eyebrow arched skeptically.
"Let me spell this out for you, and I'll use small words so you'll be sure to understand, you dolt. Not my boyfriend, not a date," she growled.
"Don't have to be mean about it," Ruby muttered, glowering at her equally peeved partner.
"Shyeah, Weiss. Take a chill pill," Yang said, trying to placate her.
"This whole thing is your fault in the first place, Yang!"
"Hey, you two!" Nora interjected, stepping between the pair. "There's only one way to settle this."
"Weiss getting the stick out of her ass?" Yang queried darkly.
"Yang learning to mind her own damn business?" Weiss countered angrily, most of the observers surprised to hear her swear.
"Trial by combat!" Nora corrected them both. "And oh, look! We have easy access to a sparring room!" she added cheerfully, eager to be a part of chaos and carnage again.
"Ehh, might wanna rethink that plan, Nora," Jaune offered. "We kinda...broke it."
"Broke what?"
"The room," he clarified.
The six leaned to the side to see past their friends, only to have a scene of unmitigated chaos greet them. Massive chunks of ice were everywhere; columns sprouting from the floor, huge deposits adorning the walls, even a steady stream of drops falling from a frozen stalactite hanging from the ceiling thirty feet above. Scorch marks from large scale fires as well as the localized points denoting high intensity electrical discharges marred the walls and floor. A ten foot tall slab of basalt tilted precariously, seemingly moments from falling to, and possibly through, the floor.
"Holy crap, Jaune. Goodwitch is gonna take a chunk out of your hide for this!" Nora remarked, simultaneously fearful and impressed by the scale of the destruction.
"We're at a combat school, Nora. It's not like we destroyed the dining hall," Jaune remarked.
"And precisely who started that fight?" Weiss asked, her voice dangerously close to a growl.
"That was an accident!" Nora protested.
"And what do you call launching me through the roof?" Yang countered.
"Freaking awesome?" Nora answered with a maniacally mischievous grin.
"Ehh, I'll take that answer." Yang replied with a chuckle.
"Speaking of the dining hall, you all hungry?" Jaune asked, getting a consensus agreement from the group. "Let me go stow my gear and take a quick shower, and we'll all go together, okay?"
"Sure, Jaune!" Ruby piped up. "We need to drop our weapons off too. Come on, girls!" she cheered, leading the way to the locker room.
"We'll all meet up here, Ruby," Jaune called after them before turning to the rest of his team. "Really, guys?"
"It was all Yang's idea!" Nora immediately volunteered.
"Which made it a good idea how, again?"
"I...umm...Pyrrha?" she nervously passed the buck.
"I worry about you, Jaune. Please don't pretend I don't have reason to," she said softly.
Jaune sighed with downcast eyes, not happy in the least with getting called out in such a fashion. "All right, that's fair. Let's just promise ourselves we're going to work on this, okay?"
"That is more than sufficient, Jaune," Ren replied, his hands clasping both Pyrrha and Nora by the shoulder.
"All right. Lemme go get cleaned up, be right back, I promise."
"We'll be waiting with bells on!" Nora replied as he walked down the hall towards the showers, waiting until he was out of earshot before continuing. "Is it just me or does Jaune-Jaune seem...different?"
"A traumatic experience often changes…" Ren began before Nora's eyes went wide with a gasp of realization.
"He was replaced with a pod person!"
"Those don't actually exist, Nora," Ren countered, his voice even yet still filled with warmth.
"Aww, come on! It's totally obvious! Unless...Ren?"
"Yes, Nora?"
"Are you a pod person too?"
"No, Nora."
"That's just what a pod person would say!" Nora said breathlessly.
Pyrrha could only chuckle at the interplay between the pair, her heart lightened by the return to familiar ground. Deciding to stay out of their exchange, her eyes returned to the aftermath of Jaune's spar with Weiss. The direction of most of the strikes could be discerned easily enough, though some, like the column of stone, could have been thrown from anywhere. The amount of dust Weiss had used against Jaune was almost exorbitant, but then again, it was Weiss.
Yet something bothered her, a piece of the puzzle not quite fitting correctly. She looked again, trying to imagine the course of the combat, a fair sight more difficult without the pea gravel floor she'd grown up training upon. Suddenly, a strange idea drifted through her mind, causing her to flinch in surprise.
"That can't be right," she muttered to no one in particular.
AN: Buckle up, folks, next chapter is gonna be a doozy.
And long. Very long I think.