Chapter 36


Adam was dead, and Yang's scroll was running out of battery.

"So, you're sure everything's safe?" Taiyang's voice rang hollow and distorted through the underpowered scroll speaker. "Is everything ok over there? I tried to call Ruby but she's not picking up. And your other team mates aren't either."

Yang hunched down onto her rain soaked bed, and looked at the screen with her father's worried face on it with regard.

"Wait… you have Weiss and Blake's scroll numbers?" she asked, noticing the incongruity.

"Oh, I looked them up."

"Why would you do that?" Yang said, sufficiently weirded out that horror overtook her curiosity.

"In case of emergencies!"

"Well, we're fine anyway, dad," Yang scowled, trying not to scowl any harder as the other cold drop of rainwater leaked through the insubstantial roof onto her head.

"But, what about-"

"Look, dad, my Scroll's, like, on three percent, and I don't have a charger here" Yang said, tilting the device to check, "can you make this quick?"

"Why don't you just call Ruby and ask her to bring you one?"

"Because she's not picking up!" Yang said, finally letting through a little bit of the frustration that had been building up inside of her.

"Ohh, that's… yeah," Taiyang sympathised.

Yang sighed. "So… can we talk about this later?"

"Of course, I just wanted to make sure you had someplace to stay."

"Yeah, I'm staying at the castle," Yang said, growing impatient.

"And you're not going to be kicked out?"

"Apparently not."

"Because, If you are I can pick you up. Or, I can just call Mr. Schnee-"

"No! Just, look, dad, everythings fine. Let me go to bed, now?"

"Ok, sweetie," Taiyang said reluctantly. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

And the scroll powered off in her hand, flashing red with low battery markers, and Yang lent back against her surprisingly dry mattress, looking up into the brief specks of sky visible through the dilapidated roofing material, trying to stay calm until another cold drip of water fell onto her face, straying down her cheek like an icy tear that whispered promises of sleepless nights to the girl.

Yang briefly pondered whether it wouldn't just be better to jump the wall and stay in a hotel somewhere… or at least a sufficiently dry tree.


Tyrian was dead, and Torchwick didn't care.

At least, he didn't care on a personal level. Philosophically, the death was an ill timed reminder of mortality for Torchwick, now that he'd been designated the lead reporter on the curious case of how they'd failed to kill Mr. Schnee.

Emerald stood behind him sobbing against a wall over Cinder's memory. Torchwich would have consoled her with the fact that, all things considered, Cinder was probably still alive. Or, Torchwick would have consoled her if he'd cared… which he didn't. And he had bigger issues on his mental plate anyhow, like how he was responsible for reporting the second failure in a row to Salem, who's continuing good mood seemed ever on the verge of shattering into a murder spree with him as the primary target.

He looked down at himself, and then back up at the bone-white entrance of Salem's tent. The heavy flaps hung closed in front of him.

Looking back, he noticed the clustered group of hunters as they stood around in their solitary spaces, trying to look at anywhere except the tent. Neo was standing closest to him, which was saying a lot considering she was still twelve meters away.

It appeared everyone had forecast an explosive death for Torchwick.

Eh, there were worse ways to go, Torchwick decided with a shrug, and pushed his way into the tent.

"Report," Salem was sitting at her desk and writing something in a language Torchwick neither understood or had ever even seen before.

"Uh… the mission came into some trouble. While we achieved most of the objectives, Mr. Schnee remains alive."

"Mr. Schnee?" Salem asked, looking up at him, quill frozen over her parchment. "Who in the world is Mr. Schnee?"

"Uh… the richest man in the world? We were going to kill him..." Torchwick explained

"Why?" Salem asked.

"Because… to be honest… actually, you know what? Nevermind. Forget I brought it up," Torchwick said, easily, acclimating the change of circumstance.

"I will," Salem answered, making motions to return to her writing when a sudden thought struck her. "Actually," she called Torchwick back, who had already been hurting towards the exit. "Before I forget, call Raven. I want the entire village assembled."

Torchwich, paused in a brief motion, exhaled in relief as he turned to smile at the woman. "Of course," he said. "I'll have everyone ready."


Everyone was early to the meeting, as evidenced by the time they had to wait before Salem showed up.

Raven and several of her guards shored up the east side of the hill, while Torchwick and his crew took the west.

Between them was Salem, who was looking south, at Raven's village. She had trailed off of her congratulatory speech commending Raven for her recent efforts, stopping the conversation entirely and leaving the groups in an uncomfortable silence as she turned away from Raven and her guards, and began staring intensely at the wooden village.

"Uh, Salem, mam" Torchwick said after the fourth minute of continual silence. "I don't mean to interrupt, but you were just saying about the rewards?"

"Rewards?" Salem asked, "rewards to whom?" not looking away from the bright sunbeams that peeked through the near wall of the village.

"To Raven," Torchwick answered, "for her help, recently, with the attack."

"Yes, yes," Salem said absentmindedly. And again, there fell a silence, one no one could gather the courage to break as they instead looked over at the village, trying to find in it something that could have enamored Salem's attention so.

And, despite the keen eyes that had been trained onto it, none found anything of particular note.

From their vantage point atop the hill, they could see quite well into the town center, and found nothing there that was out of the ordinary for a periphery village. It was merely a group of wooden buildings, with metal dust containers dispersed through the usual places, and all the other amenities of communal living like various sized trash cans, outdoor prison cells and leather-optimised cleaners.

It was Salem, at last, who managed to break the silence, and she spoke slowly, not looking away from the apparently hypnotic sight as she addressed the rest of them.

"I'm deliberating…" she said, "whether I should destroy this village or not."

Everyone stiffened at the cold, serious words. Most especially Raven who, without her mask, let nothing hide from the fearful trembling that took her eyes.

"Oh, yes, I know, I know," Salem interrupted Torchwick's protests with a raised hand. "It would be betraying a useful ally, and it wouldn't do anything to further my plans, and It would be wrong." Raven turned suddenly beginning at a slow pace, speaking sarcastically, the preempted protests. "I know exactly how little I would gain by destroying this little village, and I'm aware of how much there is to lose by doing so. I know how quickly legends spread among humans, and how relentlessly they can be remembered; even a thousand years from now this mark of treachery could reduce any person's willingness to aid me.

"I'm even aware of how bringing up this topic has hurt my rapport with the rest of you," she gestured idly to Torchwick and company. "I know that if I destroy this village, you'll no longer be able to look upon me as trustworthy! Then, you'd be useless to me. Not to mention, I'd have to kill you so that you didn't tell anyone about my tendency to betray people."

Salem said that last line casually, a stark juxtaposition with the bone rattling terror that now overtook her team.

"Don't bother trying to run away, by the way," she added absentmindedly, the majority of her thoughts still clearly laying with the village. "I'd just hunt you down and kill you slower than I otherwise would have. And, I'm willing to spend years tracking you if need be. Remember that groaning that comes out of my dungeons? That's someone who thought she could escape me. She's been there for twenty years." Salem said all of this at once, dropping the tidbit as if she were thinking of too many important things, and needed to talk to free up room in her mind.

She hardly noticed the sudden paling that took over everyone that was listening.

"Still… just, look at it!" she stopped her pacing to gesture at the village.

Everyone looked at it, still failing to see anything worth looking at.

"It's such an edifice of order!" Salem said, turning to them by way of explanation. "It's a standing city in the middle of a forest! They even built a wall around it! How can anyone expect indolence of me, when they've covered themselves in such defenses?"

A sudden motion to her right caught her off guard, and Salem was surprised to see Raven kneeling before her on one knee, sword stabbed into the ground. "Please," Raven said coolly, "I'll do whatever you want."

"Oh, you're just making it worse!" Salem said. "I mean, you make a village and then fill it with people, and then beg me not to destroy it? You're simply begging for me to destroy it! I mean, just look at those crowds looking up at us, they're even cradling children, some of them!

"Ah, I could just cut them all up."

"I…" Raven paused, eyes flashing wildly as she looked down at the ground, still kneeling.

Salem sucked a pained breath, shaking her head as she paced stiffly back now through her more maniac pace. She even turned away from the city, trying to fight the temptation and evidently losing, to tell by the giddy smile that turned up her cheeks, and the flaming ball that warmed lit up in her hands.

And, though she hardly noticed it, facing away from the village as she currently was, a sudden creaking became apparent in the village walls, as one of the water towers began tilting, and leaning painedly over.

Salem, hearing the noise, turned around with a horrified expression as the water tower fell, exploding open into a torrent of water that knocked down several buildings and sent the gathered crowd streaming to the edges as the miniature tidal wave washed over the village. The crashing water apparently disturbed some of the metal tank containers, setting off several small explosions and some small fires, which set the water boiling as several people moved to fight it.

The growing fire quickly spread along the small electrical network, setting several sparks raining down onto whatever dry bits of thatch had been gathered as animal feed, and setting sections of wall on fire just in time for another dust explosion to rock through the space.

The walls, as well as the soggy, flame blackened, buildings they guarded, now stood as a parody of a standing city.

Still, the people, though shocked, were for the most part unharmed.

Salem was disgusted. "… shoddy workmanship," she snarled at the apparent bad design and unworthy craftsmanship of the city. "It's broken now, anyway." She extinguished the flame in her hand, and turned quickly away. "Activate the flying machine, Torchwick," Salem commanded. "We're leaving."

And, like that, Raven was left alone, with her two guards, atop the quiet hill.

She looked in wonderment at the sudden turn of good luck,

Or… looking at it more immediately, bad luck, she noted, as she looked at the havoc and destruction that had just saved her village.

And she looked up, suddenly, watching as a brown drifted high into the air, cutting through the currents with strong flaps of its extended wings.

"I didn't do it by choice!" she yelled up at the figure, cupping her hands around her mouth, not caring about the strange looks her guards sent her.

A quiet screech was her answer, filled with human understanding, and the hawk banked, and turned away, and zipped off at wind cracking speeds.


Hah, more like midshipman of industry, Mr. S thought as walked away from the man who, now that they parted, yelled over encouraging signs of their future friendship.

These were a type Mr. S found himself dealing with a lot in his current position as the world's richest man.

In short, they were big in their small pond, needed money, and simultaneously tried to kiss ass and boast.

In all, not a great look.

Still, today, Mr. S bore it with grace, mainly because he'd woken up to some very good news.

You see, the Fall Maiden was arriving today; and her reception party was catered.

The second bit of good news came from Weiss, yesterday, when she'd explained that an anniversary party wouldn't make sense because the Winter festival was coming up, and the day long celebration that entailed would make an anniversary celebration pointless.

And you bet your Hannuka that was getting catered, if Mr. S had anything to say about it.

And the final bit of good news was more incidental. They'd dredged his gun up from the crater ice block, and it had finally finished repairs.

Still, there was a temper to Mr. S's good mood however, mainly related to his constant anguish about the the Fall Maiden who wasn't here yet.

Again, he looked at the clock - yep, still 12:25.

"Schwarz, when is the Fall Maiden arriving?" Mr. S asked for the fourth time that minute.

"She should be here around noon."

"It is noon." Mr. S pointed out.

"Delays aren't unexpected," Schwarz said, hardly looking up from her tablet as she walked alongside him.

"Still-" Mr. S let the silence finish his sentence, as he walked into Dr. Polendina's office. For the first time getting a look at the man, as well as at the wondrous gadgets and sculptures that decorated his office. "Woah," Mr. S felt the words pulled from him as he paused in the entrance way, looking around him. It was all so beautiful!

And of everything, perhaps the most beautiful thing in the room, may have been the sight of Dr. Polendina himself. Mr. S almost yipped in appreciation as the man walked in on his articulated tank chair.

"Don't look too amazed," Polendina laughed, hearty chuckle shaking him as he looked over at the pair, "you are the one who paid for most of it, anyhow."

Mr. S looked down at him, forgetting how his new face naturally fell into cold observations whenever he wasn't focusing it.

"Uh hm," Polendina coughed awkwardly. "Anyway, about Riére," he turned suddenly, making space for them as he led them to the far back, where a glass lidded machine housed the shining gun, which was lit up under a bright fluorescence as if on display. "I'm happy to say he made out fine," the doctor laughed, patting the glass lid. "A few scuffs here and there, sure, but I ran every test there was to run and I can say with confidence that, yes, he's made it out fine. The main barrel hasn't suffered any irreversible deformation, and even the rifling was pristine. All he needed was a bit of recalibration, and some minor realignment in the external structure, yes sir.

"And, actually, I must commend you on the design work," Dr. Polendina said, "an fcc skin with a bcc interior: it's not too easy to get those two types to work together, and not many hunters would appreciate the design considerations."

Mr. S looked at the man as if he could hug him.

Have you ever just met someone whose words you loved? Have you ever spent days on studying, and then talking with people who exclusively used business lingo only to finally meet a human who spoke your language! Well, Mr. S did, and he felt very eager to make this man's acquaintance. Whatever it took, he was going to become friends with this man, or at least he'd pay him for regular conversation.

So, it didn't help Mr. S's cause that he wasn't talking, or listening, in due to admiring the man.

"...Mr. Schnee."

"Uh, yes?" Mr. S shook his head, coming to.

"Your weapon is ready," Schwarz said.

At her words, the glass lid covering Riére popped open with a vacuum seal, releasing a rich smell of iodized metal.

"Yes," Mr. S said mechanically, as he took the weapon. "What were you saying?" he directed the question at Polendina. Still trying to start up a conversation, and possible friendship as he holstered the weapon.

"Oh, I was merely saying how I admired your weapons design," Polendina replied. "It's a very well thought out schematic."

"Ah," Mr. S nodded. "Yes, uh, well, I'm something of an engineer myself."

"Oh, really," the doctor nodded, in a tone that was too polite to sound more incredulous.

"Yes," Mr. S looked around. "I'm actually rather taken with this laboratory of yours. You'll have to give me a tour sometimes."

"Well, this is more of a workshop, really," Polendina said, abashed. "I really only come here whenever I have some major work to be done in the castle."

"What's this, then?" Mr. S walked, as if attracted, towards a metal shelf that lined the side wall. The shelf was one of many stacked upon the walls, and the item upon it was barely distinguishable in the cluttered workspace. Still, something about it seemed notable to Mr. S.

Drawing closer, Mr. S was better able to make it out, and could actually see the vaguely humanoid outline. It was a torso, he realized at last, when he'd drawn close enough that the shelf arrested his movement. And the torso was missing it's arms: it's lower arms, anyway. Other than that, it was hardly distinguishable from the chrome and dust lit objects that lined the shelf space around it.

Mr. S leaned in for a closer look, ignoring the similarly colored tools and gadgets that filled the shelf space around it.

It had no skin, and bare metal was harsh and black as it rose up with the protruding cheekbones. Rare diodes glimmered against the black metal exterior, strung out like tattoos on the black skin, creating an uncanny expression with the lipless, white, and very human teeth that decorated the mouth.

It's eyes were emerald green and unblinking.

"That," the doctor answered, walking up behind him with robotic whirs of his servomotic chair, "is Penny."

"Penny?" Mr. S asked.

"Yes, her," Polendina continued, mistaking the nature of Mr. S's confusion, and giving him warning, subtly, not to ask any more questions. "She was the first machine with an Aura, and I still haven't been able to bring her back to life."

Mr. S thought it strange, the particular language Dr. Polendina employed when referring to the machine; but he didn't question it. Goodness knows how many pointless things he himself had personified over the course of his life. Still, the pain he sensed in the man's voice seemed overdue. "You know, I hate to see her here," Polendina said, suddenly. "I wish everyday that I could hide her body, bury it somewhere, and never have to look at it again. But, something just won't let me quit." One of the chair's robotic legs stamped down in frustration at that, sending a slight rumble through the wooden floors of the workshop.

"Well, it's no shame," Mr. S said, for lack of anything else to console the man with. "As you said, she was the first machine with an aura. Her soul must have been irreplaceable." Mr. S defaulted to that flowery language used when speaking for the dead, trying not to disparage the genuine sadness the doctor seemed to feel.

"Ha!" Polendina laughed a pained laugh. "Oh no, the aura generation is trivial, at this point," he clarified. "If only that had been the problem, then maybe I would have called that a fitting end."

Mr. S followed the doctor's lost gaze, to the motionless torso that stared blankly up at the shelf above it. "What is the problem?" he asked, curious.

"Her memory," doctor Polendina answered. "Her… power units were damaged by a powerful magnetic pulse. It… created volatile conditions inside her hardware. I've thought of every way we can read the data back out, but…" he slammed his fist down onto the chair's handrest. "I'm stuck. Trying to read from the disk would only destroy it!"

Mr. S felt incredulity rising at the very strange set of circumstances, but didn't have the bravery to ask revealing questions quite so blatantly yet.

"Sir," that was Schwarz who drew his attention, and Mr. S turned to look over at her, watching as she sensed the news on her tablet.

"Yes?" he answered.

"The Fall Maiden has arrived."


"And this," Weiss gestured to the flashing, darkly lit arcade, "is the game room."

"Huh! Is that destructor disk 2?" Ruby pointed at a large holographic with exaggerated happiness. "Look, Blake!" Ruby said, ponting at the dark interior with a swell tone, "an arcade! You want to play it?" she ventured to ask nicely, hugging Blake across the shoulders.

Weiss stood nervously off to the side, watching the pair intently while trying to maintain an incidental appearance: one that said, I'm not overbearing, and I'm totally willing to comply with your requests to not make a big deal out of this. After all, why would I care if you ran off crying and asking me not to follow?

Blake sighed, trying very hard to show her appreciativeness at her teammate's awkward attempts at cheering her up, and to hide the shrinking efficacy with which their increasingly ill-suited suggestions were accomplishing that task.

"Thanks guys," Blake said at last, with a smile so small it couldn't have been forced. "I'm not really into arcades, though. Maybe we can just take a break from all this? I kind of wanted-"

Weiss sent Ruby a death glare.

And Ruby jumped at the prompt. "No!" she said, chuckling nervously and sending worried looks at the increasingly stern Weiss. "How about we go take a tour of the castle… again."

"That's a wonderful idea, Ruby," Weiss said, leaping into the conversation with great satisfaction. "How about we go look at the dining room? Maybe we talk about our feelings on the way there? Not that I'm forcing you to do that," she quickly retracted. "I'm absolutely fine with keeping our private lives separate, but it might be a helpful exercise. How about we put it to a vote?"

Weiss raised her hand, and like a marionette, Ruby's hand followed with hesitant delay."

Blake looked down at the floor, wondering if she didn't somehow deserve this.

Ruby sighed.

And Weiss smiled, leading the way.

Soon, they found themselves in the outdoor dining room, managing to get there before Ruby had finished even her small part of the emotional exercise, having gotten more into it than she'd first suspected she would.

"-so, anyway, It's always been kind of hard telling Yang that I really see her more than as a half-sister. I mean, just because Raven was her biological mother, doesn't mean she has any special rights, right? And it always kind of hurts whenever she ignores the rest of us to go chasing after her. I mean, doesn't the time we spent together mean more than some gene-"

"Ok, Ruby, that's very nice," Weiss raised a hand politely. "But, how about we give Blake her turn? I mean, it's obvious she's going through a lot, lately." Weiss crossed her arms, now directing a pointed glare in Blake's direction, and not hiding anymore her great frustration with her girlfriend.

Ruby pouted, and so did Blake.

"I'm fine," Blake said shortly, looking painedly away from Weiss at the declaration.

Weiss, on the verge of yelling and demonstrating to Blake how Winter handled such situations, felt herself stopped by the new scenery as the dining room walls opened as well as the pair of voices that inhabited the inside.

Or, rather outside, as the schematics would have shown. For, looking to the far wall, it was easy to see why they called it the outdoor dining room.

It wasn't truly outdoors, but one entire wall was missing, replaced by a series of wide arches that opened up to a fresh air balcony.

Clear glass filled the space inside the arches, and the noon-day sun streamed powerfully through, lighting the room and bringing stunning views of the green, garden -grass below.

Off to the side, setting the tables today, Farbe was conversing idly with one of the older maids.

"-no!" the older maid said, smiling "they hate each other! Especially since the younger brother got disinherited."

"Didn't he show back up to the recent family reunion, though? He even said he wanted to mend relations and spend more time together," Farbe questioned naively.

"Oh, ho!' the older maid chuckled. "Trust me, that situation has 'hunting accident' written all over it!"

"You're terrible!" Farbe laughed, joining her.

"Anyway, I was saying it's quite like the new Fall Maiden situation. I have no idea how Ozpin managed to convince Mr. Schnee of all people to let a Nikos stay here, but-"

"Excuse me," Weiss stern voice cut off their conversation abruptly, as they both silenced and turned to face the girl who was now suddenly standing before them. Blake and Ruby stood still at the doorway. A line of fluttering tablecloths lay behind Weiss, leading back to them, and giving tell to the sudden air-stream she'd generated in her recent travels. "What were you saying, just now, about my father?" Weiss asked.

"Uh, that he doesn't get along well with Niko-"

"No, no," Weiss hastily corrected, Blake and Ruby had caught up to her now. "I meant about the Fall Maiden. You said she would be staying here?"

"Yes," Farbe nodded with a polite smile. "She's staying as an honored guest - arriving today, in fact."

In contrast to the ever polite Farbe, Weiss did not fail to note the scant look the older maid had directed in Blake's direction, and she felt an urge to do something that would mortify Blake out of her silence.

Weiss shook her head. Don't fraternize with the help, she told herself. And yelling at them probably counted.

"Where is my father?" Weiss directed the question at Farbe, hoping to get out of here as soon as possible.

"He's in the garden," Farbe gestured out of the arches into the sunlight. "They're setting up preparations for the welcoming party."

"Thank you," Weiss said, very politely and very pointedly directing her exclusive thanks to Farbe. "Let's go," she said, at once standing back up and walking towards the window arches. Once there, she opened the large, door-like, windows in between the arches and walked out onto the large, open-air hallway that stretched around the second-floor level of the garden wall.

Looking over the stone railing, she could see a large attendance had indeed been gathered in the garden, and all of them were looking up at the skies for some invisible sign.

Weiss didn't slow her step as she placed a hand on the rain-slicked stone of the railing, lifted herself over the balcony, and dropped twelve feet onto the garden grounds below.

A sudden, heavy thud of heels into grass alerted Mr. S to the sudden presence behind him. Turning away briefly from the skyward view he'd maintained, Mr. S found himself in a position better able to appreciate the scheduled, 12:00 glare Weiss was pointing in his direction, as she excavated her heels out from the soft mud of the garden they'd been buried into, moving just in time to avoid her teammates, who dropped in after her.

Mr. S didn't even bother to ask what he'd done, now. He was certain she wasn't going to leave him in ignorance.

The rain had quite deliberately melted much of the snow that previously covered the courtyard. And it hurt Mr. S to think he was walking on the surface in five hundred Lien shoes.

Then again, he was holding a catered grain bowl in his hand, so…

"Why didn't you tell me the Fall Maiden was going to be arriving?" Weiss demanded, stomping her way over to him, and sending speckles of mud splattering everywhere with each footstep.

"Did you want to know?" Mr. S asked, slightly confused.

"Of course I wanted to know!" Weiss yelled. "Pyrrha's one of my friends!"

"I wasn't aware that you knew her," Mr. S answered easily, fully comfortable, now, with the volume of conversation Weiss often chose to engage in.

Weiss, hand paused in a raised position, resisted her own indignant motions as she realized that that was actually a good point. Still, she wasn't one to waste good anger. "That doesn't matter," Weiss denied. "Even if I didn't know her, I'd still want to see the arrival of Maiden!"

"We have a maiden at home!" Mr. S gestured indignantly over to Winter, who suddenly turned to face them from where she'd been perusing the fruit stands, an arm folded behind her back.

"She doesn't count!" Weiss said, gesturing over to the same woman, who didn't show much more than military restraint, and a desire to show Weiss how Winter handled such situations.

All further display of words and slapter were halted, however, as a sudden rise in the murmur of the crowd, and a speeding wind, heralded the arrival of the intercontinental bullhead.

It seemed very small, in the distance, but everyone was rapidly freed of that illusion as it flew lower, and grew to take up half the sky.

It seemed quite gentle, the delicate way it hung in the air.

It's airstreams, on the other hand, were quite a different story.

Mr. S had been a pilot back on earth. Not professionally, but he had a license. Wild, that the guy who loved aerospace so much he became an aero engineer would like flying. And, this meant that he was personally, as well as theoretically, sensitive of the very, very small relative thrust the Bullheads of Remnant seemed to use in order to get around.

Because, you see, most bull heads were in the ten ton category. And, in order for a ten ton vehicle to hover, it would need to blow down ten tons of air at 1 g. At least, that had been the conclusion of the physics Mr. S had learned. Here though, apparently, some 'gravity' or 'wind' dust was enough to 'counteract' it, somehow. Mr. S hadn't yet gathered the time to get into the nitty-gritty of the whole issue, but he'd seen enough to convince himself that this was the case.

The aforementioned ten ton bullheads they'd used to bring the wedding guests over two nights ago were one example that convinced him. Despite being ten tons, and despite landing directly in the garden grounds, they'd barely stirred up a wiffle. Apparently, the pilots had used extra wind dust to, presumably, supercharge the reality compensators they carried around with them.

Here, though, we return to the present. Because, the Bullhead that the Fall Maiden was arriving in was a hundred tonner, and man were the pilots not using enough wind dust.

Despite the fact that they'd chosen to land the heavily armored vehicle in the far corner of the garden wall, the winds were fantastic. A black spray ejected up into the air, splattering the vehicle and near walls with mud and engine exhaust, as a steady stream of heated air barreled its way across the garden, slamming into the reception and knocking over one of the buffet tables.

And it grew to suddenly be very warm in the area, as an artificially dry heat encompassed the group.

Not that Mr. S cared, he'd already eaten; at this point, the rest of the reception was icing, as far as he was concerned.

The servants, however, had vastly different priorities, and hurried to roll out the carpet and assemble the various flags and banners appropriate to such an occasion.

Half the flags were Schnee banners, Mr. S recognized, flowing strongly in the sudden wind that had been kicked up by the bullhead. Every other spot, however, was taken by a rather foreign design. A white background marked by a red circle, though which speared a… leaf-spear, Mr. S could only call.

Over in the far corner, the engines powered down, and the Bullhead, at last, settled onto its suspension.

The bullhead, contrary to it's very close ranging effects, was still in the far, far distance of the garden, having chosen a distant corner to nestle into. And, despite the extreme effects felt on their end, everyone still couldn't help but take a moment to notice the unusually destructive landing of the vehicle. The corner it lay in was absolutely caked in a thick layer of topsoil. Even from here, it was plain to notice the expanded mud crater the Bullhead had formed around itself, as well as the glistening body of worms that trawled their way through the newly exposed dirt.

Of course, these worms, being the guardians of such an illustrious garden, were actually specially imported from the island of patch, giving tender care to the various tropicana that marked the garden.

And, some of them, or some bits of them, had even landed on Ruby.

"Ohh!" She picked up the still living-half of worm that had landed on her shoulder, looking at it with wide eyes. "Are these imported from patch?" she asked.

"Uh, yes," Schwarz raised an eyebrow at the question, unaware there was anyone on Remnant but her and the gardener that knew, or cared to know, that fact.

"Oh, wow, you know I used to take field trips to work in the worm farms when I was in school there! They never let us keep any of the worms though," she said looking up absentmindedly. "Come to think of it, I never saw any workers there, either. And going there biweekly for eight hour days was a bit much, too, actually."

"Ruby…" Weiss said worriedly, "did… they actually teach you anything at this school?"

"What, yeah, of course they did!" Ruby answered enthusiastically. "We only went to the worm farm in summer, you know! They taught us all of the important subjects! Like: metal work, lace work, factory floor management, air-conditioner repair, the occasional coal mining-" Ruby stopped, self conscious at the horrified looks that were being sent her direction from all parties.

"And… math, science, history?" Weiss asked. "Did they teach you any of these things?"

"Well… it was a very arty school," Ruby replied.

"An arty school that does coal mining and air conditioner repair?" Weiss asked.

"They had a library too. I read a lot of textbooks about everything, since we had to pass the island standards. They just didn't let us read during craft time, is all."

"And… did they actually let you, you know, keep any of these crafts?" Weiss asked.

"Well… no, they were usually shipped off after we packaged them," Ruby answered, "but-"

"Look, I don't want to hear this anymore," Weiss interrupted her with a waived hand. "We're getting you a tutor, Ruby; and Yang, too. Father, can we get them a tutor?"

"Yes," Mr. S nodded immediately, looking with wide eyed horror at the girl.

And that was that, as Weiss finalized the decision with a decisive nod. Off in the distance, the workers finally reached the bullhead, unrolling the foot of the rug at its presence, and preparing the grounds for the opening ramp.

"Come on, me and Yang we don't need to tutor," Ruby replied.

"Yang and I," Ruby, "Yang and I," Weiss massaged her eyelids at the second big problem of the morning.

"Whatever," Ruby said, "the point is, we don't need a tutor! I mean, Yang didn't even go worm hunting with us! She hated it when they got into her hair- Oh no!"

Ruby suddenly yelled, turning to the corner that the bullhead had landed in, and reminding everyone how they'd left Yang there inside a hovel there last night.

"Schwarz went into immediate action, nigh-teleporting to the space and immediately searching around the flattened bit of ground where the hovel used to be.

"Yang!" Ruby yelled, joining her and yelling into the air with waving arms. "Are you alive!"

Schwarz was looking elsewhere, looking delicately at the wall, far too experienced in the art of peeling people off said wall.

Apparently, Yang had answered, for they both soon turned their attention to a rear section of the Bullhead's right landing ski.

Ruby and Schwarz looked at eachother with amazement, before looking back at the Bullhead's skiff.

After a moment of panicked deliberation, they soon both decided on a plan and set to motion. Schwarz went to the section of skiff where, apparently, Yang had gotten herself pressed into the mud, and Ruby counted down.

"Three, two, one!" Ruby's voice called through the distant air, at which point Schwarz lifted up the section of skiff, lightly rocking the ship as she shifted the landing skiff up against it's suspension. Ruby quickly went under, catching hold of her sister and dragging her out onto open mud.

Yang lay there for a long while before she moved.

...

"It's ok," Ruby whispered calming words to her shivering sister as they approached the group. "Schwarz says you can come out in front of the line, now, since Winter is here."

"I… I tried really hard to stay behind the line," Yang said, voice weak, and leaning heavily, against her sister. Ruby, for her part, did not seem to mind the copious mud that streaked onto her from the contact.

"Yes, and we're very proud of you," Ruby told her, mimicking, as best as she could, an adult tone.

Mr. S was aghast.

"I thought I told you to get her out of there!" he said to Schwarz, gesturing to ground zero.

"I did!" Schwarz defended herself. "Or, I thought I did, anyhow. I sent her a text saying she was free to come out into the garden once noon hit."

Yang brought two shaking hands up to her face, watching the thick cake of mud that fell off their shaking forms. She took a clump of her hair in between her fingers, bringing up to her eyes with an instinctive movement, meant to aid her in discerning even the slightest blemish that might have gotten onto them. Here, she was using that skill to find even a single strand that wasn't caked in it.

She dropped the lock, letting it hang heavily against the rest of her mud splattered hair. "I…" she began slowly. "My scroll was out of power, and I didn't have a charger" she said. "I asked you for one, sis," she turned a hopeful look at Ruby. "You didn't pick up."

"Oh… sorry!" Ruby apologized, smacking her forehead with a palm when she saw the unread messages on her scroll. "Weiss was treating us to personal massages, and they didn't allow any electronics in the spa!" Ruby explained happily, apparently also having never taken subtext classes at School.

Yang was far less happy to hear the news.

"Uh, Yang?" Weiss asked, deciding this wouldn't be the best time to bring up the tutoring thing. "Are you ok?" she asked.

Yang was slow to reply, as she dropped the muddy clump of hair, standing up straight.

"We can get you a spa day, too!" Weiss offered, chuckling nervously, as she noticed the increasingly panicked messages that had been left on her scroll as well.

Yang, again, remained silent, looking around herself like a golem.

"My hair," Yang said, at last. Sounding extremely calm about the prospect, in much the same way that a mountain side is, when trying to collect enough loose snow to form an avalanche.

"Yes, we can make it better, Yang," Ruby said.

"Who's ship is that for?" Yang asked at last, looking to the bullhead, content with the knowledge that she wouldn't face any trouble - or, indeed, any legal repercussion - beating the person responsible for this. After all, no one except a hunter would know how to fly a bullhead that badly; and Yang considered herself undefeated in the ring… unless you counted Pyrrha, that was.

"It's for Pyrrha," Weiss answered her.

So, then, Yang turned to the next available punching bag.

"Ruby," Yang called with decided calm.

"Yes?" Ruby asked, now hiding herself behind Blake.

"What did I always tell you about checking your scroll for messages?"

"To always check them before bed?" Ruby answered.

"Yes," Yang answered, "I did, didn't I?"

Ruby grew increasingly uncomfortable in the growing silence.

"Yang, I just wanted to say, I really consider us to be good sisters!" Ruby yelled, peeking over Blake's shoulder.

"We're half-sisters, Ruby," Yang answered decidedly.

"No!" Ruby implored, for far more practical reasons, now. "We're more than that! Really! I was just telling Weiss and Blake how much you mean to me!"

"Ruby," Yang cut her sister off with the word, drawing out the reply, "come out from behind Blake."

"Why? What are you going to do, Yang?" Ruby asked.

"Just come out," Yang said quietly.

"I'm not coming out until you tell me what you're going to do!"

Yang, in a friendly mood, decided to indulge her. "Do you remember that time Weiss told us about how Winter handles situations like this?