A/N: Hopefully the turbulent schedule will settle down a little more, but don't be surprised to see a chapter released on Monday or Tuesday instead of Sunday every so often.
The Players, or the Pieces?
Soundproofed walls, no windows, locked door that gave warning when someone would enter and, as far as Adam knew, no cameras. Although these precautions were all set in place to ensure no one inside or out would be distracted or endangered, the training room Team RWAY spent so much time in also functioned perfectly as a meeting place.
Dawn had barely begun to break when Adam entered and got two whole steps inside before needing to stop and stare at the two sisters.
His eye twitched. "Why are you two still in your pajamas?"
"You called for an urgent, 'immediate' meeting at like 5:30, what did you expect!" Ruby threw her arms up, still even having her Beowolf sleep mask over her forehead.
He turned to Yang, who was laying down using a training dummy as a pillow. She glanced over, then tapped her chin as if thinking about it. With her middle finger.
Adam rolled his eyes and scoffed, disregarding Yang's grin at his reaction. At the very least, it meant she wasn't angry about earlier.
"Weiss is still gone, I assume?"
"Yeah, she gets to have her beauty sleep," Yang griped. She stretched herself out and yawned. "So, what's the big deal? The sun's barely even out yet."
Adam flashed his Scroll past the door's lock. "There's a team being investigated in the tournament: Team FNKI supposedly had an illegitimate victory over JNPR due to the use of Dust that was not tournament-legal."
Ruby gasped. "That's awful: so they were cheating?"
"No, and that's the problem." Adam sat down on one of the tables, eyes narrowed. "They swore they didn't, and I could hear them talking about it even when there wasn't anyone but themselves they'd need to prove it to. Frankly, I have reason to believe them as well."
"Where are you going with this?" Yang rolled over and raised an eyebrow. "Because right now this sounds like the world's lamest mystery: I mean, who even cares about how 'legal' their Dust is? What's the difference?"
"One hundred percent: that's the difference," Adam replied. "The Dust Weiss came to Beacon with, for instance, was potentially twice as strong as what an average student gets. Imagine if Velvet's weapons were twice as sharp and twice as tough."
"Yeah, but I mean, we were right there at the fight: there was no way they were using Dust that crazy. It should be open-and-shut!" Yang pounded her fist into her hand.
"More importantly, it shouldn't be something that takes up an entire day to disprove: that means Atlas has found something when they shouldn't have," Adam said.
Ruby furrowed her brow. "So you think it's rigged?"
Adam nodded.
"And that involves us... how?" Yang asked. " 'You think Cinder's behind this?"
"I have my doubts Ozpin would pull the strings, and as last night made clear, Ironwood has all the grace and finesse of a sledgehammer. That doesn't leave any other answers."
"Yeah, but isn't it a little..." Yang scratched her head and shrugged. "Stupid? Using something that easy to disprove? If she could set them up for that, why not anything else? Connections to the wrong people, or aura-boosting gear, or insider info, or just... steroids? I mean come on, it's Atlas, people would buy that more than something a quick swab of their weapons can show."
"Wait, that might be the point!" Ruby jumped to her feet. "You can't ignore this big huge show, and then after that, the Vytal officials have 'proof' of something a ton of people would think is fake!"
Adam rubbed his chin. "Suddenly, Ironwood's security can't even catch something as simple as teenagers putting bad ammo in their gun, or Beacon's team 'coincidentally' gets to move along from a clearly false claim. Either way, Atlas looks incompetent or complicit while Beacon looks suspicious." He hummed to himself. "Likely. However, I think Cinder wanted something else out of this: Pyrrha."
"Even something like this isn't going to hurt her rep: people have been claiming her opponents were throwing fights even in her junior tournaments." Yang frowned, propping her head up on her fist. "So whatever her plan is, it must have something to do with the 'Invincible Girl' still being in the tournament."
Lights above the door flashed red, and Yang sprung to her feet. The eyes of the three were locked onto the door.
Weiss pushed through it, a drink carrier with coffee for the four in her arms. She looked between the three as the door closed behind her, then sighed.
"Why are they in their sleepwear?" she asked Adam, already resigned.
"Because they have no concept of discipline," Adam grumbled. His point was proven as Ruby blitzed past to Weiss and zipped right by him in a second, already drinking down her 'coffee', though as far as Adam was concerned, it was a milkshake.
"Great, the party's all here!" Yang clapped her hands together. "Now we can not know what Cinder's doing together!"
Weiss raised an eyebrow. "Do we finally have something on her? And I thought this was day was going to be droll. What have I missed?"
"Team FNKI's getting set up for something really dumb so everybody looks bad, and it's probably so Pyrrha can stay in the tournament so Cinder can do something nefarious!" Ruby happily proclaimed, bouncing on her heels. Her coffee was half-drained already.
Adam could already feel how hyper she was going to get. Resisting the urge to sigh, Adam nodded. "That summarizes it. Controversy or not, having the Invincible Girl get her way to the finals with a technically-unsullied record would draw in eyes all around the world. If she were to get to the last match, it'd likely break records, and that's when Cinder would want to make her strike. She didn't tell me much about her plans when she approached the White Fang: only promises of using SDC goods to spark a revolution that would benefit us both in exchange for the Fang's assistance. I say her target would be Amity itself." That would've been his target.
"Or you might be thinking too large." Weiss' tone was bitter, her expression dark. "It might just be Pyrrha we have to worry about."
"Assassinating Pyrrha?" Yang asked in disbelief. "What would that even get her?"
"Chaos," Adam replied. "Showing the world that not even such a celebrity is safe, not even in the symbol of mankind's peace. Vale's a hotbed of tension, especially against the faunus. If she could twist Pyrrha's death to be the White Fang's fault..."
Yang grimaced. "Vale would tear itself apart."
He nodded. "The first shots of her 'revolution'. We need to watch out for any of her lackeys getting into the finals with Pyrrha. Once we've prevented her plot, we take her down and get to Vale as fast as possible to stop whatever she had planned for the White Fang."
"Why there?"
"Because the White Fang are going to attack on her word," said a feminine voice from a wall.
Ruby, Yang and Weiss let out yelps or shouts of surprise and backed up from where the voice came from.
Adam sipped his coffee and rolled his eyes. "How dramatic."
"Like you can talk," said the wall before the color suddenly shifted across part of it and revealed what looked like an ordinary human girl: tanned with spots just a little too large to be freckles but not enough to draw notice, and brown hair drawn into a large ponytail. Were it not for the sleeveless stealth suit she wore and intense gray gaze bordering on Ruby's silver, she could've passed for a student.
"Who the hell are you!" Yang demanded.
She rolled her eyes, then looked to Adam. Ah, so it was his job.
"Meet Operative Amitolia—"
"Hi, Ilia!" Ruby waved.
Seeing the increasingly confused looks from Yang and Weiss, Adam decided more needed to be said. "She's been my liaison with the defectors to the White Fang while we've been out of commission. You can trust her: we've worked together almost as long as we were in the White Fang." While it left Yang at ease, he couldn't help but notice Weiss' frown only deepen. Careful, subtle steps put her further behind Yang. A far cry from how she was with Blake. Questions for later.
"He called me in because when the White Fang make their move, we're probably going to be working together for a while. Since you've all been cooped up in your fancy school, you might not have noticed that the White Fang's not fortifying their little spot in Vale: they're hiding in it." She frowned and crossed her arms. "I only know this because the Fang don't know my 'sudden deployment' from the High Leader's a lie, but every little cell more than a couple people's been laying low. I've... never even seen anything like this, before."
"The good news is that so many people won't be able to prepare for the final attack without it being obvious," Adam explained. "The second we have word of them moving, we should make our move. Take Blake, then take out Cinder."
"So what're we gonna do about the White Fang?" Ruby piped up. "They're not just going to sit there and do nothing even if Cinder goes down, right?"
That was going to need to be a lot more in-depth. Adam took a long drink from his coffee.
Qrow capped his flask and swiped at his lips. "So those kids actually did it, huh?"
Another day, another meeting. Hopefully the last one he'd have to stand for a while: he was starting to get real sick of the drab, shadowy office Ozpin practically called home, and the eternal clicking of cogs above his head just made his hangover worse.
Ironwood sighed, leaning against Ozpin's desk. "Although they've testified otherwise, there's no arguing the evidence: whether or not they're students of Atlas, I have no choice but to punish them accordingly."
At least he was comfortable, Qrow grumbled in his head. "Couldn't some jack-off just have set them up?"
"There's records of conversation on one of the students' Scrolls, the inspectors have stated there were signs of high-quality Dust usage fit for a Specialist and investigation of the location stated on the Scroll brought us lien where Miss Katt's fingerprints were the most recent." Ironwood shrugged. "It's unlikely at best. Just in case, however, I have requested the investigators look into the metadata on Miss Katt's Scroll: on the off-chance these messages were planted, we'll know. It's unalterable without more access to the Scroll's data than anyone but myself should have."
"I had thought the investigation would take until tomorrow," Ozpin said as he refilled his mug.
"The recently-found evidence changes things. Even with my request, the revised time is this afternoon at the latest."
"Ah, wonderful! If there's anything good to be found in such an unfortunate occurrence, it is that this being over with should leave young Nikos with little to worry about when I call her here," the headmaster said with a smile.
"Oz, are you sure it's such a good idea to rush bringing her in?" Qrow asked.
Ozpin's soft smile quickly faded. "I'm afraid we have little choice. We must give her as much time as possible to think this over: Autumn is a very large responsibility. I can't force it upon anyone."
Qrow sighed: he just didn't see this going anywhere good. Frankly, from the brief furrowing of his brow, Jimmy didn't like it either. He wiped the concern off his face when Ironwood looked his way, no doubt for unspoken support: he doubted the general had the kids' best interest in mind, no matter the reason for disagreeing. Or maybe he was still upset over not having his personal probably-puppet get the powers.
"Alright, so what's after that?" he asked.
As if sensing even the briefest annoyance from Ironwood—he wouldn't put it past Ozpin to be able to do that—Ozpin glanced over to the general at his desk. "I believe you were onto something, James: it is time to begin pushing forward. Beacon may not support inter-kingdom missions until a team's third year, but I think I can make an exception. Upon securing Taurus' loyalty, I will move for Team Rua and Team Juniper to relocate to Mistral. From there, we should quickly be able to gain access to the White Fang's leadership and ascertain whether or not they have become loyal to Salem, all while leaving her pawns fruitlessly searching for the Fall Maiden here in Vale."
He took a slow sip from his mug. "And with Raven Branwen likely to be the last person the Spring Maiden had contact with, I believe my students will be quite interested in discovering her location, as well."
Qrow froze under Ozpin's gaze. He hadn't mentioned that to him—anyone—yet.
His smile grew more sly, briefly visible as only a rise of his cheeks behind his mug. "I do apologize if you were keeping that information as a surprise. When you lost contact around her approximate location in the search for her, I could only assume whatever you had found was information you wanted to ensure was verified before sending to me, and rather important information as well." Ozpin leaned back and waved it off.
"With Miss Belladonna is secured, Team Rua can fill in the gaps of our current knowledge, and the matter of the infiltrators will be settled. Once they are gone, we can focus all of our attention on repairing the Ildaite Ward. Either way, gentlemen, I believe it's safe to say the situation is handled."
Qrow forced himself to loosen up, though he had to keep himself from wincing when he heard how fake his chuckle sounded. "As safe as things can be against Salem."
If Ozpin's own was fake, he was far and away better at handling it. "Indeed. Please, I'm sorry for taking up your morning while Miss Goodwitch is setting things up in Amity. Rest, both of you."
With a pair of nods in affirmation, the two left Ozpin's office. Separate elevators, not just to escape the cripplingly awkward ride down every time the two of them were stuck in one, but to have just a moment to himself. A moment to let his shoulders slump and snarl show.
Yeah. 'Safe.' Call him biased, but he knew damn well Lady Luck wasn't going to let it go so easy. So why did Ozpin think so? Why did he trust in them so much?
What did Ozpin know that he didn't?
Ironwood bristled in his elevator as the floors ticked down. He stood at attention, face impassive, yet inside he was seething: they didn't have the time to be hedging their bets on if a teenage celebrity was going to risk her life for a war she wouldn't be able to know anything about until she'd already accepted the responsibilities. Somehow, even when Ozpin was committing to action, the tendrils of complacency wormed through way into his plans.
Salem's scheme was clear: if she wasn't going to attack the Vytal Festival, it was only because she was using it to slip her agents into Beacon for a much larger attack once he and his defenses were gone. Ozpin's plan only could work if Salem allowed it to, and every day the Fall Maiden was in her clutches was one they were vulnerable.
The Spring Maiden was missing in action, the Summer Maiden's loyalties were not secure, and the Winter Maiden was secure but no longer able to defend herself. These were trying times, weren't they? Was he wrong to believe that they were at risk?
Ironwood grit his teeth: it all came back to Ozpin not telling them all why he was so sure. Unless he really was putting everything on the loyalty of a terrorist.
As the elevator slowed, Ironwood forced himself calm once more. He was tired of people standing in his way, from Vale's council struggling to let the city be defended to Ozpin's dawdling. Pyrrha needed to become the Fall Maiden.
Pyrrha would become the Fall Maiden.
Cinder wouldn't become the Fall Maiden.
The sun was high in the sky, his warehouse was busy with people transporting Dust, he'd finished brushing off yet another goon whining about not making enough lien with this order to stay low, and Torchwick had decided that only this would be suitable payback against Cinder. This whole alliance in the criminal underworld and borderline destruction of the entire kingdom was just to take some magical mumbo jumbo from a girl hidden in a school, so it was only common sense that Cinder would care about that most of all.
He couldn't escape to break Neo out of wherever Vale had her until the chaos gave him the opening, and there wasn't much he could do at all until that all started in the first place. Unfortunately, that gave him plenty of time to think on his revenge. Sure, he couldn't do too much and make the entire thing fail or else the real Queen in charge would have his and Neo's head... but he could shift around a few things. Who lives, who dies, who gets the credit, and who gets the reward.
Torchwick scrolled through all the new files he had access too, the most interesting of which being quite a few new ones on Atlas' puppet. He grinned: that'd be a good present to leave behind.
"Boss, I've got what you were looking for." One of his henchmen in their white suits—much sharper than Junior's boring goons, in his completely-correct opinion—stepped into his office and placed a chrome briefcase on his desk. Torchwick nodded him off without paying any mind, only to catch him still lingering in the corner of his eye.
"Boss, this, uh... took a lot to get out from under that crazy girl's nose. With business so low an' all—"
Torchwick groaned and rolled his eyes. "One month and you people act like you're starving. You'll get your pay when the rest of us do: got a problem? Maybe learn to save a lien or two. It's two days."
The ungrateful employee opened his mouth to speak again, but this time when Torchwick shooed him off, he listened. With a deep, agitated sigh, he turned to the briefcase and popped it open. Prismatic light filled the dingy room. Vials of powdered Dust lay glittering within, crystals brimming with untouched energy between them. There was no discrimination between colors or energy when he asked for them: only that they give him the greatest Dust they had.
Torchwick tugged his glove off and popped the cork of one of the vials. Red Dust trickled onto his fingers with heat almost unbearable. He rubbed it between his fingers, watching its color drain and its energy with it into himself.
He smiled. One million lien's worth of Dust. Chuckling to himself, he drew out a cigar and, with a snap of his fingers, lit the end.
The sun was high in the sky, his warehouse was busy with people transporting Dust, he'd finished brushing off yet another goon whining about not making enough lien with this order to stay low, and Torchwick had decided he was going to steal the powers of the Fall Maiden.
His eyes fell back onto his Scroll.
One way or the other...
"We apologize once again for the inconvenience."
The call ended, and the dorm of Team JNPR was left in silence. Nora was still leaning over the Scroll left on the nightstand like it'd light up any second and display more secrets. Ren watched with a furrowed brow, the closest thing to open concern he'd shown since the Breach. Jaune scratched the back of his head, feeling the awkward pause pressing down like a boot.
Pyrrha, with tense shoulders and hands tightly clenching one another, sat upon her bed trying to ignore how every gaze in the room routinely flicked to her.
Finally, it was Nora who looked around at the unsure expressions and asked: "Shouldn't we be happy?"
Thankful somebody said it, Jaune put on a smile. "I mean... yeah, right? We're moving to the doubles! Sure, it's a little crazy how we got there, but we can't let a little cheating get us down." He couldn't stop his gaze from gravitating to Pyrrha, and he watched as she practically put on a mask of happiness right in front of him.
"Of... of course!" she said, smiling. "We should be thankful to be given the opportunity to move on in the tournament."
Ren studied Pyrrha, then nodded, expression never giving anything away. "Indeed. The actions of others should not reflect on us."
"Then no more moping!" Nora declared, pointing to the heavens, then out to the afternoon sun through the window. "Team JNPR's back in the tournament, and this time we're gonna take it all home! With me and Pyrrha, the next duo could bring in a pair of Paladins and still get the smackdown!" She flexed her arms and struck poses better fit for a bodybuilder magazine.
It was enough to get Pyrrha to giggle, and it was just what was needed to lift the heavy air from the room. Still, Jaune could see pieces of that mask still there, but he couldn't understand why she was wearing one at all. And so behind his own mask of a smile, he tried to think of what to say.
"Alright, team? Let's go get some lunch! Win some stuffed animals! Celebrate!" Nora pumped her arms, grinning. And as Ren nodded along, Jaune saw his chance.
"Hey, why don't you two check and see if Team RWAY wants to come around with us?" he asked the two, and his smile barely held itself together under both Nora and Ren's suddenly curious looks.
Nora shrugged. "Alright! Hey Ren, maybe Weiss'll pay again!" She practically dragged Ren out of the room, and Jaune caught her shooting a wink his way as she passed. He really couldn't understand what Nora was thinking, sometimes...
Sighing, Jaune turned to Pyrrha.
"Is everything alright, Jaune?" Pyrrha asked.
Jaune guessed he was a bit more obvious than he thought.
"Oh, uh, yeah! With me, anyway, but..." His mind hadn't caught up to making a step two to his master plan. "Er... with everything going on and what happened after yesterday, I just..." He scratched the back of his head and couldn't meet her eye. Jaune sighed again. "Are you alright, Pyrrha?"
She tried to wave it off. "Oh, I'm fine! I'm sorry if I've worried you: I guess it's only..." Her smile slipped while she tried to think of something to say. "Pre-match jitters again. I suppose I'd gotten used to the idea that I'd have more free time in the upcoming days."
Jaune nodded, still finding it hard to glance at her for more than a second. "Right. Right, yeah, of course, 'guess I shouldn't assume so much..."
An awkward silence settled.
He decided he couldn't just leave it at that. "It's just... I don't know. You looked just as down about having to fight again as you did about losing." Now, he was just focusing on the curtains. "Maybe I'm just imagining things, but if there's something you want to talk about, I'm always around, y'know? Obviously I might not know everything about worrying over audiences or public opinion or expectations—my parents didn't even have high hopes for me—but my sisters have always told me I'm a good listener and... it'd be nice to pay you back for actually believing in me when I came here."
Finally, Jaune forced himself to look at her again. Pyrrha's eyes were wide, and for a brief, terrifying second, he wondered if he'd said something wrong. Then, she smiled: genuine and warm. Jaune couldn't read the emotion in her soft gaze or why it left him feeling so happy, but he grinned, nonetheless.
"Thank you, Jaune, really."
Taking that as an unspoken 'but I can handle this myself', Jaune was quick to nod. "It's no problem, Pyrrha! It's what partners are for, right? Offer's always open." He took a step back. "We should probably hurry up before Nora just leaves us behind like last time." With a last, awkward chuckle, Jaune walked for the door.
"Can I ask you a question?" Pyrrha asked him before he could leave, walking closer.
"I think you already did," Jaune joked from instinct before straightening up and holding his hands up in defense. "Sorry, I didn't mean—"
Pyrrha giggled. "It's fine, Jaune. It's just..." Her smile softened. "When someone says 'destiny,' what do you think of?"
He blinked. "Oh. Uh, huh, kinda heavy." He furrowed his brow, then just shrugged. "I guess I never really thought about it."
"Well, when I think of destiny, I never thought of it as a predetermined fate you could never stray from, but as a goal. A final goal one works their entire life to achieve: one that calls to you, that you're uniquely fit for. And yet..." Pyrrha looked down and crossed her arms under her chest. "This 'investigation' arriving the only time I've lost in years? There's just something about this that strikes me as wrong: as though maybe I was wrong about what destiny is. Maybe it really is inescapable."
"Not a chance, Pyrrha," he denied so quickly it surprised even him. "I could never believe that: if destiny was just a path, then nothing we do would matter, and there's no way that's true. I've only known you for a few months, but I can tell you've earned every step you've taken, Pyrrha." Jaune placed a hand on her shoulder, for once confident in his answer. "One odd incident isn't going to change what you've done so far, and it's not going to make any difference. And even if fate's going to try and interfere, I know it wouldn't stop you from making that destiny your own anyway."
Pyrrha gazed into his eyes in silence, tears gathering in the corners of her own. Jaune squeezed her shoulder, ready to try and reassure her, until she pulled him into a tight embrace instead. Surprised, it took him a second to even think of hugging her.
"I can't thank you enough," she said, her head nestled into his shoulder, and for a moment, he was fine with just holding her.
Pyrrha lifted her head from his shoulder, cheeks growing red as she stared back into his eyes. "Before we go Jaune, I think—" Her Scroll began to buzz, and Pyrrha jumped in place.
"Uh-oh, must be Nora," Jaune joked.
Pyrrha fumbled with her Scroll to check the screen. Her brow rose. "It's the headmaster?"
"There's much to speak about."
Cinder clicked her Scroll shut and took her time walking down the winding path down from Beacon to the city ahead. Evening rays bounced off of the grand river to her left, and the canopies of reddening trees left the land to her side drenched in shadow. Her plans were back on track, as if there was any doubt. Pyrrha would be just where she needed her to be, and when the time came, Vale would wilt in the pain she would bring. That very city stood ahead in a veritable wall of buildings that eventually swallowed up the river itself, full of so many unaware of the war being fought just under their noses.
The uniform of Haven Academy did little to block the chilly autumn winds, but Cinder was used to them. Some would be panicking or unsure of themselves the moment before their plan would go into action. Cinder, on the other hand, was almost ready to start skipping. She'd been studying five long years for this: she knew her plan was going to be successful, and in two days, it'd be proven.
The muscles of her left arm writhed beneath her skin.
And this emptiness inside her would finally be filled.
Her only regret was the lack of good help from Ozpin's little city she could take back with her: so deeply had his false sense of peace and security spread that even the underground focused more on their own freedom than power, let alone the chance to change the world. Even the faunus, crushed beneath his status quo, were fickle and likely to betray her if she didn't slay them first. People like Emerald and Mercury were so difficult to come by.
Cinder's eyes followed a trio of birds fluttering off across the river, feathers black as tar and their species easy to miss were it not for the glint of white on their heads: immature little Nevermores, no doubt having moved in after the Breach. The Breach nearly ruined by that imbecile, Torchwick: even this current 'success' was more from trying to adapt his hideous failure than an intended goal. None she'd desire to have close to her, and the one she might've thought otherwise of decided to turncoat to Ozpin the very day she'd returned to claim him.
Shame. She thought Ozpin would've been too arrogant to resort to stealing away prospective allies to Salem, but she supposed anyone with his experience would have the intelligence to back it up. And so Adam Taurus was lost to his sly words, but Ozpin wouldn't be the only one to suffer for it. She'd warned him not to interfere: at first, it was clear he was skirting the line, so she responded in kind. Now he openly opposed her...
Her Scroll buzzed. A message from Blake.
"I'm on my way."
Cinder smiled. Once more, she'd respond in kind.
Dusk's sunlight poured in like gold as Pyrrha rushed out of the elevator to the headmaster's office. Long shadows cast themselves through the room from ticking gears and Ozpin himself, waiting for her.
"I'm sorry for taking so long, Professor." Pyrrha said as she approached.
"Nonsense, Miss Nikos: I would never want to pull you away from your team, especially in times such as this!" He smiled and motioned to a mug of cocoa at her side while he held onto his own. "I see it as no great surprise that your team has already decided upon you and Miss Valkyrie to proceed in the tournament. I hope these rumors haven't been putting a damper on your celebrations."
"No, no, of course not, Professor Ozpin. I'm happy that my team and I can try again in the Vytal Tournament: after all, I don't think I would've even gotten this far without them."
"Oh, that's the story we're going with today, huh?" A rough voice drawled behind her.
Concerned, Pyrrha looked back: in the deep shadows near the entrance, a lanky, dark-haired man leaned against a pillar. She'd seen him a couple times these past few days, but he was with Ruby or Yang. Slowly, she stood. "I'm sorry; I don't believe we've been introduced."
"Name's Qrow," the man said, a faint sneer tugging at his lips. Pyrrha gripped her chair a little tighter: something about him put her on edge.
And as if sensing her unease, Professor Ozpin looked to him with a strained smile. "Qrow is a trusted colleague of mine," he emphasized, and all that really did was raise more questions. The ticking of cogs grew faster above them as she turned back to Ozpin.
"Please, try not to let him get under your skin. He can be a bit... abrasive." He nodded for her to take a seat, and she obliged.
"What is he doing here?" wasn't a question Pyrrha had the confidence to make sound anything but rude, but as the professor took his time sipping from his mug and the turning of cogs began to rattle around in her head, there was a better question that came to mind:
"If I may ask, why exactly did you call me here?"
His smile remained just as soft and reassuring as ever, but she couldn't help but start to worry. Every click from the ceiling was louder than the last. Ozpin brought his hands together, leaned back comfortably in his reclining chair, and soft reassurance became almost playful mischief.
"What is your favorite fairy tale?"
"... Excuse me?" The rays of sunlight barely pushed through the canopy of endless trees, the same gold as the eyes peering into her own.
"Fairy tales, Blake: surely one with a love of books like yourself would have read a few." Leaning against a tree in the shade with her arms crossed, Cinder didn't look like she was just playing around. Well, any more than she normally did with her catlike smile.
Blake recognized the irony of that crossing her mind.
She sighed and decided to open her mental filing cabinet, already prepared to throw this conversation into her ever growing list of quirks her team had. "I guess? I left those behind when I was a child."
Cinder shook her head. "Such a shame: there's always such interesting bits of knowledge left behind in them. There was always one that spoke to me, though: more than the rest, anyway."
Her smile grew a little wider, and in her gaze, Blake caught a little of the same fire she held when talking about the 'Emerald Cage'.
"The Girl in the Tower."
