Chapter 38


Mr. S very much wanted to give the Fall Maiden a chance.

After the scene at her arrival, he'd entered the castle with a real commitment to ameliorating circumstances with the girl.

Then, lightning struck one of the castle turrets, magically going through the Faraday cage and destroying the not inconsiderably expensive piece of defensive equipment.

This immediately preceded the destruction of the fountain due to high water pressure.

And then there was the fire.

Still, he was committed to preserving the peace between them.

He even said as much, when he - having been called back to the garden to speak with the girl - spared a glance at the destroyed turret, and then another glance at his watch, which showed that five minutes had passed since her arrival.

He walked back out into the garden, where most of the staff still milled around, nominally there to tidy up, and actually trying to sneak discreet glances at the new girl. The rest of team Juniper huddled in the central plain of grass, conversing cheerfully with team RWBY; Yang was the notable exception who, now that she'd managed to wash her face and hands in a nearby fountain, was hurriedly stuffing food into her rapidly billowing cheeks while balancing precariously on the Bullhead ramp.

In an effort to make up for recent events, Schwarz had allowed Yang to live on the bullhead for now, which stayed parked in the far corner of the garden, where many of the buffet tables had been moved to accommodate the girl.

Mr. S passed by the group with little incident, taking comfort in the sudden proximity Schwarz had taken to keeping with him ever since the attack. Still, he couldn't help but miss the presence of Winter, who had left off before he'd arrived. Worried signs crawled in shivers up his spine, as the shadow deepened, and he entered further into forested recesses of the garden grounds; finally, he found Pyrrha in a quiet clearing, where she sat, leaning against a marble statue next to a dark circle of charred grass.

Surprisingly, as he looked at the scene, Mr. S found himself ready to believe that Pyrrha hadn't started the fire with her maiden powers; because she was smoking, and another, burnt, corpse of a cigarette lay crumpled in the center of the char circle.

"Pyrrha!" Mr. S greeted with natural enthusiasm, remembering at the last moment to call her by her name. It came as a shock, how refined an instinct for acting he'd picked up, now that he was in this body. Despite the circumstances, he could actually feel himself affecting genuine joy.

Pyrrha took another drag, and breathed out a heavy lungful of smoke, as she faced off to the side, one foot braced against the top corner of the statue's base.

"I heard there was a fire," he said, not mentioning at all the slagging turret that was currently teetering atop the near wall.

Pyrrha, again, didn't answer.

"Is… something the matter?" Mr. S asked.

"No," Pyrrha's eyes focused on a distant point in the grass.

Mr. S, under the force of the same instinct which guided his acting, drew closer. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Well, a lot of things have been bothering me about nothing, lately," Pyrrha answered, looking darkly over at him. "Like that turret," she gestured up at the slag.

Abort! Abort!

Mr. S about faced, practically moon walking - so quickly had he turned away from the girl.

Still, he kept a dignified tone of voice. "Well, we'll try to accommodate you as best as we are able," he answered, bowing as he made his way to leave. "If you need anything, the staff is at your service."

Still remarkably conciliatory, Mr. S didn't feel any ill will towards the girl, after the fact.

Granted, he didn't like her, at all, but he wasn't one to let such personal grudges get in the way of his official duties.

And so he ventured to forgive the girl her insults, and worked to rationalize her actions to himself. After all - he thought - she was in a new land, surrounded by strange people. It was natural for her to be unpalatable, considering the circumstances. Besides, she hadn't killed anyone yet! Not to mention, she hadn't destroyed anything for the past ten minutes.

A new record!

Well, it was a new record if you discounted the statue.

Mr. S disregarded the calls for him to speak with her again. He knew that, sometimes, people just needed to be left alone; and trying to force his understanding ways onto her was unlikely to end well for anyone, he decided: least of all him.

So, he stuck firmly to his earlier conviction, and resolved to let the girl be for the duration of her stay at the Manor.

At least, he had been willing to do that until he saw the video.

Yes, that video. The one with over one-hundred-million views on Video Share.

On one of his impromptu breaks - in one of the various waiting rooms scattered throughout the manor - Mr. S sat back in a short couch and - drawn, at first, to the video purely by curiosity - tapped his scroll to start the footage. The introductions were interesting, much like a play, in a way, and accompanied by much fanfare. And, the start of the fight - what little Mr. S could see of it - was actually quite gripping.

And then the highlight of the video came, and Mr. S started physically leaning back from his scroll, trying to distance himself from the screen as Pyrrha - looking far less goth in those days - throttled the cheerful redhead with her own wires.

And Mr. S found it difficult to look away, despite the slowly increasing distance that formed between him and his scroll.

The girl, Penny, wasn't even choking.

She was a robot, of course, Mr. S understood, but she'd seemed so human, so intelligent in the earlier fight and preamble, that it was quite a shock to see her body hanging dead like a lifeless puppet as Pyrrha dragged her around, cut her open, took her apart, and ripped her insides onto the arena.

The affair, in its whole, lasted just about three seconds Mr. S guessed, though it felt somehow longer than that - as if he'd spent half his life experiencing it. His hands felt clumsy as he tried to regain control of the unwieldy scroll.

Finally, the shock ended, and the crowd's roars silenced, and Pyrrha stumbled back from the scene, looking around herself in genuine confusion.

Gathering herself, and looking at her surroundings, she ran at last, stumbling, over to Penny's remnants.

Once there, she fell onto her hands and knees, hovering a shaky hand over the blackened torso.

Senselessly, Penny's upper body, over which Pyrrha had chosen to dedicate the greater portion of her attention, moved. Slowly, jagged remnant of her upper arm, a skeleton of black metal tipped generously with a gold ingot, pivoted, rising up from around the shoulder joint and gently touching the spot just below Pyrrha's neck with the jagged, golden stump of its right arm.

And then it died, and the arm fell, bouncing lifelessly on the ground, and the subtle glow in Penny's eyes became noticeable, for the first time, for how it departed.

Pyrrha jumped back suddenly, rising onto her feet and looking up at the watching crowd. She stepped back, nearly tripping over some rubble, and then turned, summoning her weapon to hand from where she'd dropped it before she started running.

And then the footage cut off.

Generously, that had been regret she was expressing. Less generously, Mr. S decided, it was Schizophrenia.

Schwarz walked into the waiting room at this moment, slowing to a confused stop, with her lunch in hand, as Mr. S turned his thousand yard stare onto her.


It was in the most natural voice that Mr. S had started the conversation. And, all throughout the long winded introduction, Ozpin sat, patiently staring at the screen, as - with agonizing patience - Mr. S's words tumbled over themselves to come, at last, to the final conclusion:

"In light of this, I'm afraid I'm rescinding my earlier offer," Mr. S said, trying to fake sadness at the decree. "The Fall maiden will no longer be allowed to stay here."

Ozpin, to Mr. S's chagrin, did not seem to be taking the ultimatum as seriously as Mr. S had meant it.

Ozpin sighed with some modicum of worry. "Very well," he said. "We'll arrange a transport for her by next week. I trust you'll be able to keep her on the premises until then?"

Mr. S became immediately suspicious of the man, because his response wasn't genuine. Oh, he didn't seem to be lying, outright, but Ozpin had the character of someone who just knew that things were going to go his way. He had the face of a person who was mentally counting down from three…

Two,

One,

BANG! A deafening shout of metal was followed by a comparatively quiet exhortation.

"What are you saying!? We can't kick Pyrrha out!" Weiss said, from where she'd slammed open the half-ton, armored door like it was a windscreen. In her off hand, a scroll glowed with messages.

"Ah, I see you're busy at the moment. How about we finish our conversation at another time!" Ozpin smiled, cutting off the video feed before Mr. S could stop him.

"Well!?" Weiss was in his face now, demanding answers.

"Well?" Mr. S mimicked her, "she's unstable!"

"No she's not!"

"Really? You're willing to stand by that conviction, are you?"

"...We still shouldn't kick her out!"

"Well, I am, so save yourself the heartache," Mr. S said, walking past her while Schwarz moved to follow.

"You can't!" Weiss yelled, pitching with such energy that Mr. S paused in his stride, and turned back to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

Weiss was suddenly abashed. "I mean… you let Yang stay," she said, drawing softly.

"Yang was a security risk that could be worked around, Weiss. More importantly, she was cooperative."

"And Pyrrha will be, too! She's not like she seems!" Weiss sprang over to stand in front of him again, looking at him with pleading.

Mr. S turned away from the burning hope in her eyes, noting that this was the first un-tormented look he'd seen on the girl, and surprising himself with how much he feared to destroy it.

Mr. S set pacing, keeping his eyes carefully away from Weiss as he deliberated.

Finally, he asked: "Are you threatening to leave if I don't allow her to stay?"

"No," Weiss answered, "but I am promising to reconsider."

"What?"

"You said you cared about me, and that that was why you let us stay. If you really mean that-"

"I'll allow every crazy person who wanders in here to stay in the castle?" Mr. S finished, bored incredulity supporting his words. "What, next, challenge is there to prove my intentions? Shall I leap off a cliff?"

"She's not a crazy!" Weiss sparked genuine anger behind him. And Mr. S turned to look at her with a rather skeptical look. "She's really not!" Weiss insisted. "Gods, I wish you'd known her - how she was - before the attack," genuine regret and pain rose up in Weiss's voice. "I… I'm indebted to her, father," she admitted finally, open weariness in her voice. "We all are. And, I promise you, she will behave. I'll make sure of it! She won't do anything bad anymore! Just let her stay!" Weiss's words crowded into themselves, each one seemed to fall from her mouth faster than the last.

As to Mr. S and Weiss, so caught up were they in her tirade, that they were both surprised, at the end of it, to find themselves holding hands.

From their positioning, it was apparent that Weiss had been the one to initiate the contact, as well as the one who had taken his hands, pleadingly, into hers.

After a second of appraisal, they both jumped back a half step, nearly shivering and looking as if they needed a shower.

"Uh," they both said in unison, looking away pointedly from each other.

Schwarz, in the background, looked away from the scene with an indeterminate expression that ran the gamut between jealousy and embarrassment.

"Let's never speak of that again," Weiss proposed.

"Agreed," Mr. S answered.

"So, can Pyrrha stay, then?"

"Ok," Mr. S nodded.

And they both turned to leave just when Farbe, still dressed as a maid, came hurriedly into the room.

"Mr. Schnee!" she bowed, speaking with bitter excitement, "Pyrrha is gone! She escaped from over the south wall, and the last records show her heading into town!"


Schwarz had been dispatched to retrieve Pyrrha.

With her, she took Pinkamena, Haetzen and Beryl, uncomfortable with the prospect of leaving the castle after the recent attacks, and unwilling to leave it without at least some guards present.

And some time had passed, after her dispatch, when Pyrrha's mother arrived.

The bad thing about this, was that Mr. S was left Schwarz-less when it came time to greet the towering amazon.

And he had very little answers prepared when she scowled down at him from atop the ramp of her bullhead, yelling:

"What do you mean you've lost her!?"

Mr. S, still under the effect of his new body's ingrained habits, didn't stumble over his words. Granted, he also didn't have any words to say; so, in the end, he came off with a cool silence as he looked quietly up at the fiery woman.

"She's taken a trip to the city," Winter answered calmly, moving to stand in front of Mr. S. "We've sent our most trusted personnel to recover her."

Thetis only snarled dismissively, walking past the both of them without so much as a glance. "... can never trust a Schnee to do anything right," she muttered under her breath, a line of servants carrying her bags in line behind her. "I'll be needing a room, by the way," she said, hardly looking back as she entered the stairway that led into the roof. "The same one I reserved last time should do."

Winter looked at Mr. S with questioning. He only shrugged weakly in assent.

"Very well," Winter answered, "I'll show you the way."


Schwarz was streaming down mainstreet, leaping along the buildings and passing, every so often, another patrol of officers, most of whom were new arrivals to the beleaguered city.

Schwarz took mild interest in the fact that most of the investigation teams were gathered along the path Schwarz and her security team had taken during their fight with Raven; and a particularly large group, Schwarz could see, was gathered around the former Primary Dust Palace, an investigative air about them. She didn't devote too much attention to it, however, as most of her thoughts were centered around the missing Maiden.

Pyrrha's scroll tracker wasn't transmitting, and Schwarz had been forced to rely on far more traditional methods: magic super powers.

Pinkamena flickered to Schwarz's position every other building or so, keeping pace easily as she arrived, briefly, to deliver her news before departing once again.

Schwarz had just landed on the next building when Pinkamena arrived, suddenly, next to her. "Just checked the north side of town, nothing there!" she said cheerfully, before once again replacing herself with space.

And Schwarz was left in silence as she fell in a shallow arc over to the next building, landing just in time to receive Pinkamena's next update.

"Just checked the north north-east side! Nothing to report!"

And Schwarz leapt over another building, keeping her trajectory low and fast.

"Just checked the northeast side!"

And another building.

"East side- You know," Pinkamena interrupted herself, putting a quizzical finger to her chin. " why don't I just do that thing where I teleport to every place at once!? You know I can-"

"No, Pinkamena, you can't," Schwarz interrupted sternly, "we're still facing lawsuits from the last time."

"Those kids only fainted because I was wearing bright colors!" Pinkamena insisted, scowling with annoyance.

Schwarz looked incredulously at her, running a gaze up and down at the woman's attire.

Pinkamena looked down at herself, noticing the sparkling, neon-pink outfit that covered her blue blazer. "Oh," her eyes seemed to say, as she looked bashfully back at Schwarz. "Just one moment!" she raised a finger into the air, seeming to become transparent for an instant as she flickered in place, now wearing a drabber copy of her outfit: with neon-pinks replaced by woody red's, and baby-blues substituted with star-light navy. "This should be better!" Pinkamena declared, looking hopefully back up at Schwarz. "So…?" she pondered, "can I!? Can I!? Come on! It'll only just take a moment!" she said, pouting at Schwarz's unyielding expression.

"No," Schwarz said, not pausing her careful scan of the passing surroundings.

"But, what if there's an emergency!" Pinkamena waved her arms wildly above her. "Just think of the-"

"Just go check the south, south-east-" Schwarz ordered.

"Wait!" A voice came to Schwarz.

"What is it?" Schwarz asked, looking to her left and lowering her voice to match the soft-spoken girl's.

"I'm sensing something in the ninth district," Hatzen answered, adding: "I feel… great panic, and fear, and anger… next to the bad on twelfth, just beside the sea-food restaurant." Hatezen sermoned with fingers caged in front of her chest; eyes closed yet lacking none of the awareness required to keep up with Schwarz's intense pace.

Schwarz hardly took a moment to notify Pinkamena before the girl was suddenly to Schwarz's left, a hand on her and Haetzen's shoulders; and they all landed softly on the stout roof of the robotics store, in the ninth district, looking down upon the darkening street below them.

The evening was just setting in, and the prawn store's neon sign looked down at the scene with grave attention.

It gave the incident a decidedly reddish light, and preferentially lit Pyrrha's locks of auburn hair, which seemed to glow in the sparse darkness.

The other girl's face was masked by similarly glowing streaks - made of blood that dripped down her pointed chin. The line of black hair atop her head was dyed red and hanging heavily around her face, sticking to her bloody cheeks. She was hunched and stumbling, nearly falling to the side and catching herself with a solid stamp of her armored boot.

Pyrrha, on the other hand, was far more composed, and stood with unyielding gravity before the girl, her hands glowing in that similar shade as she walked forward with capital ease.

The bloodied girl, with a painful trickle of red running down the lower blade of her jaw, tried another feint. This one, unlike her previous attempts, seemed securely aimed at escape.

Her armor seemed only capable of working against her, however, as Pyrrha caught her easily by the shoulder plate, arresting her motion and backhanding her into the ground.

Pyrrha's opponent crashed down with a hard thud, he blood stained hair fell in heavy curtains to drag along the ground like a paintbrush. She seemed beset by stillness, and hounded by invisible pains that tugged back at her every motion.

"Get up!" Pyrrha ordered, pacing around the fallen girl and watching with growing anger as she slowly crawled back onto her elbows.

The girl, blood dripping in patters onto the street, coughed, and looked ready to collapse.

"I said get up!" Pyrrha yelled, and the girl's armor rose, lifting her collar into Pyrrha's unyielding grip, as Pyrrha's other, reddened hand formed into a hard fist and swiftly rose-.

"Stop!" A sudden, hard jerk stopped her arm, and Pyrrha looked down to see a much younger, dark haired girl holding her arm, hugging herself around it as she looked up at her with teary eyes. "Please! Don't hurt her anymore! She didn't mean what she said!" the girl cried, unwilling to shift herself from the tight grip she'd formed around Pyrrha's arm.

Pyrrha looked around herself, noticing for the first time the worried and fearful whispers coming from the throng gathered around her. The girl's three teammates stood foremost among the crowd, looking on with their own intense and unreadable looks.

And Pyrrha surprised herself with the sudden storm of anger those looks inspired in her.

Throwing her left arm out, Pyrrha sent the older girl skidding across the ground. Immediately, the younger girl ran over to her, kneeling at her side.

"Coward!" Pyrrha spat, turning away.

Immediately, the crowd parted, revealing the empty street as she walked down the cobblestone. She walked for a long while, lost in the lights, and turned into the first dark alley she found herself drawn to.

There, she found Schwarz, who stood with crossed arms and a cross expression.

And Hatzen was beside her, a balm of calming glowing between her hands.


Pyrrha arrived at the Manor with little fanfare but a great crowd.

Servants and guests alike all discretely found themselves at the arrival point, and teams Juniper, Weiss, Blake and Ruby stood at the fore of them, looking with wide eyes and amazed expressions as Pyrrha was led in.

Pyrrha was decidedly calm, walking naturally, and using her hands as if she didn't notice the blood covering them up beyond her wrist.

So careless of this fact was she, that a dozen streaks of blood marred her face wherever she'd straightened her hair or made a nervous gesture. And a dozen more, covered the walls and objects behind her, marking a spot whenever Schwarz had failed to remind her not to touch anything.

Whenever Schwarz did manage to remind her in time, Pyrrha was compliant and resolved to follow the orders with little complaint. But, just seconds later, it was as if she would forget, and lose her sense of everything as she brought a hand to wipe an increasingly blood-soaked strand of hair out of her face.

The crowd looked on with fascinated excitement, murmuring whenever she made a thoughtless motion. A few of them moved to take out their scrolls, and the trifecta teams of RWBY and Juniper moved to get closer.

Schwarz was having none of it, and gave a short nod to Pinkamena.

Pinkamena smiled with giddy energy, and suddenly seemed to be next to everyone at once.

In the following instant, the crowd was gone, scattered throughout the various levels of the Schnee Manor - anywhere but there, as Schwarz had ordered.

Pyrrha was escorted to her holding room. There, she immediately felt drawn to the clean sheets of her new bed - which seemed to glow with a soft light that beckoned to her tired form.

Pyrrha made towards it when hand stopped her. She turned back to Schwarz, who pulled her over to the bathroom. There she pushed Pyrrha to the sink, ordering her to wash her hands.

Pyrrha complied immediately, seeming lost within herself.

Schwarz hardly hid her annoyance with the girl as she ordered her about, occasionally directing her attention to any blood splatters she'd missed, and which still hung about her face.

Eventually, when she felt confident enough that Pyrrha had gotten into the rhythm, Schwarz ran over to the shower, testing the warm water with her hand.

When she'd grown satisfied that the water was ready, and that Pyrrha, who seemed more responsive now, was coming to, she helped the girl strip out of her armor and step into the shower.

With that done, Schwarz left the bathroom and oversaw the transfer of the girl's luggage into the bedroom.

And with that, too, done, Schwarz lent Pyrrha's harness against a nearby wall and left, closing the door behind her.

Pyrrha, while never having paid much attention to Schwarz's presence, did take note of her exit.

Warm drips of water fall onto the linoleum tile as Pyrrha made her own exit of the shower; drying herself with a towel and padding with moist feet onto the carpeted section; once there, Pyrrha dressed into her night clothes an somehow got herself under the airy, cool blankets of her bed.

There, she at once lay out, closed her eyes, and fell into a dreamless sleep.


The next morning, Pyrrha was led to an unused meeting room, furnished with underused, domestic furniture and bright, fluorescent lighting.

Placed on one side of a long, glass table, Pyrrha looked mildly at Schwarz, who sat opposite her, taking occasional notes in a large, blue folder, filled with many papers.

The next several hours consisted of a detailed interview of the events of the preceding evening.

Pyrrha didn't mind the interrogation, and amicably, if dryly, responded to the questions put to her. After the fourth hour, however, she couldn't help but feel they were beginning to repeat themselves.

"Why did you leave?" Schwarz asked, in that same, ever patient tone she held over the course of her investigation.

"What do you mean, why?" Pyrrha for the first time allowed annoyance to creep into her voice. "Am I prisoner here?"

"No," Schwarz denied.

"Then what's so confusing? I like to go to town, sometimes," she shrugged. "I don't see why there needs to be an inquiry into every breath I took while I was there."

"You're free to leave any time you like," Schwarz sighed. "However,you were not granted residence to the Schnee manor for no reason; you should know not to leave it without announcement. And you should especially know," Schwarz lent over the table to drive home the words, "not to shut off your scroll while doing so."

"I wanted some privacy," Pyrrha said, glaring up at the woman.

"Were you looking for a fight?" Schwarz asked, outright, tilting her head in question.

"She started it."

"That's not how the police report reads," Schwarz slid the folder across the desk, turning it so that Pyrrha could read, and hoping to shock her with the revelation.

Pyrrha was less than impressed. "And…?" she asked, boredom coloring her voice. "Am I being sent to jail, now? For what? Because I fought a student? I walked past ten fights on my way into the city!"

"None of them led to hospitalizations!" Schwarz slammed a hand down, rattling the table. Standing, she paced back, letting out a calming breath. "Luckily for you, we've managed to convince her not to press charges."

"Woo hoo," Pyrrha intoned flatly.

"It's no joke," Schwarz's voice fell heavy with laden seriousness. "And make no mistake, Pyrrha, you will be on a very short leash from now on."

Pyrrha hardly reacted to the announcement, only asking quietly: "what are the terms?"

"For one, we will no longer be tolerating any further escapades into the city. You will be liable to report either to Winter or me before you enter and exit this castle."

"So I am a prisoner," Pyrrha said.

"You're under supervision," Schwarz responded.

Pyrrha only drew a quiet breath, huffing it through her nostrils as and hunched down further in her seat, crossing her arms as if chaining herself into the static pose.

Schwarz let out her own sigh.

"We're not against you, Pyrrha," she said at last, eyebrows turning down into sympathetic curves, "none of us are. And, I'm not blind to the sacrifices you've had to make, but-"

"May I leave now?" Pyrrha asked shortly, somehow speaking too-loudly and scowling at her reflection in the glass tabletop. "I've told you everything there was to tell. I don't think we have much more to say to each other."

Schwarz exhaled tiredly, removing her hands. "There is one final order of business," she said. "It's about your mother."

"My mother!?" Pyrrha said all too quickly, leaning back from the glass to look at Schwarz with an altogether new expression. Far from her previous apathy, Pyrrha seemed energized, now, by surprise, and even what seemed to Schwarz to be hope. "She's here?" Pyrrha asked, desperate for clarification, "already?"

"Yes, she arrived just after you left," Schwarz said.

Pyrrha jumped up from her seat, almost matching Schwarz's eye level. "Where is she?"

"Just one moment," Schwarz gestured for Pyrrha to sit back down. "I'll take you to her shortly," Schwarz promised, trying to placate the increasingly harried girl, "but I need to ask you some questions first."

"Please, yes, of course," Pyrrha looked back behind her as she adjusted her chair, clutching her hands over the glass as she sat, straight backed, off the edge of her seat. Her face also underwent an indeterminate change - still expressionless, but more readily serious about the situation, in muddled contrast to her previous apathy.

Schwarz, seeing the girl's evident willingness to cooperate, went straight to the main question.

"We questioned your mother, and she claims to have come here at your request - is this true?"

"Yes. I asked for her to come here." Pyrrha nodded in the affirmative.

"Why?" Schwarz asked.

"Why do you need to know?" Pyrrha answered, immediately suspicious.

Schwarz stood back up from the table, pacing along its length in silence as she searched for the right words. "As you may already know," Schwarz said at last, "this is not the first time your mother has been a guest to this manor."

"What's the issue, then?" Pyrrha asked, immediately sensing the worry in her tone.

Schwarz, again, vaccilated in the silence, nodding her to one side as she explained: "Relations between the Schnee and Nikos have never been the best; and they've taken a turn for the worse, in the wake of your mother's last visit."

"What happened?" Pyrrha repeated.

"She was expelled from Atlas after we caught her trying to steal state secrets."

Pyrrha was silent, a troubled look dawning on her. "When did this happen?"

"Six days ago," Schwarz answered.

"Oh."

"As you may have already figured, her arrival here has not been met with the greatest ease. And the council has issued an ultimatum."

"Is she to be expelled again?" Pyrrha asked, looking up at Schwarz with little in her eyes except cold curiosity.

"Not yet;" Schwarz answered, "for the meantime she has been allowed to stay in the high security sections of the castle. She is under surveillance, but I will be able to shut off that surveillance for the duration of your meeting with her. Do you understand why I'm telling you this?"

Pyrrha, taken aback by the offer, could do little more than nod her head in appreciative silence. "I… take it you're trusting me not to make another scene, if you let me meet with her in private?"

"I'm hedging that you didn't bring her here to steal state secrets," Schwarz maintained, hiding a small laugh at the ridiculous notion. "But, yes, I am also trusting you to do that… and, it's a small gesture, but I hope it's one that can develop your trust in us, too."


It is natural to assume that a life filled only with success would lead one to a losing battle with unhinged megalomania.

For Pyrrha, the situation was quite reversed.

All her life, Pyrrha had taken it for granted - that she'd never tasted the slightest hint of failure in anything. In battle, she was invincible. In her studies, she excelled. In all society, she'd been a model citizen, beloved by everyone.

Though Pyrrha - always lacking in vanity - cared little for her exploits. Even at the highest moments of her former glory, she'd always perceived herself - first and foremost - as a good person: one who cared more about righteous action than fame or fortune.

And, over the course of the preceding months, Pyrrha, confronted by so many disasters - had confirmed that notion to herself, in more ways than one.

Because, despite everyone's overwhelming consolations to the contrary, Pyrrha had cared little when she'd failed to kill Cinder.

Pyrrha had cared less when her grades started slipping.

And she'd cared none at all when people started avoiding her in public, and when they started asking her to leave their restaurants, and stabbing her with barbs and accusations.

No, Pyrrha didn't care at all about any of that.

The one thing about herself that she had lost, however, was enough to almost kill her with its absence.

Pyrrha paced in front of the metal door with all the anxiety of a person waiting for a medical report. It was an approptiate emotion, for beyond the door was her mother, and with her lay all of Pyrrah's hopes of salvation.

Mother could fix Penny, Pyrrha had assured herself all these months. She'd held onto that conviction, comforting herself with it during every sleepless night, and trying to use it as a shield against the… it didn't matter, she decided, shaking to rid herself of the thoughts. Mother would fix Penny, and Pyrrha would finally get the opportunity to explain…

Yes, that was probably the worst of it.

Pyrrha remembered most of all the questioning, curious look in the dying green eyes. What Pyrrha would give for the chance to explain herself to them!

And Pyrrha, indeed, was willing to give much. This she'd proven by the fact that she was here, outside of her mother's door.

Of course, there was the issue of her mother's most recent scandal. Given the events of the past few days, It was unlikely her mother would be allowed anywhere near such sensitive hardware as Penny's body represented. But, strange as it was to say, Pyrrha hardly thought of that, and in her haste, Pyrrha's thoughts rarely had the opportunity for self reflection.

As is natural, with people of such a character, Pyrrha was not optimistic, as much as lacking in the basic faculties that could consider, much less calculate, the chances of failure. And the probabilities of success were slim indeed; the thought ran unacknowledged through the back of the girl's head, as she paced worriedly in front of the doors.

Still, worries were nothing new to Pyrrha. She'd faced a thousand dangers worse and come out unscathed.

And this sentiment of her infallibility utterly convinced Pyrrha that everything would turn out ok. This wasn't a delusion of grandeur, nor even a sign of arrogance on Pyrrha's part. Rather, it was, to her, a simple fact, that the word she'd lived in was one mutable by her efforts - and, truly, it could hardly have made sense for her to fail now, when the stakes for her soul and character were as high as she could ever have imagined.

Still, despite this confidence and drive, it was not without some distaste that she finally entered into her mother's room.

"Mother!" Pyrrha said impassionately. She walked further into the room, letting the door slowly clack shut behind her.

"Pyrrha," Thetis replied with relative demurity, facing away from her daughter and looking directly into the mirror, eyes glancing aside as she fixed her makeup.

And, even in the mirror, Pyrrha noticed, Thetis hardly bothered to spare a glance at her daughter's reflection.

This thought drew Pyrrha's thoughts to her own appearance. It shocked her; when she finally took the changes that had taken place. Her armor no longer gleamed, instead replaced with muddy, charred and broken metal where her harness once stood. And her face somehow seemed younger, and more confused, despite the weary expression that dragged down on its features.

Pyrrha looked away with a shake of her head, and returned her attention to her mother, who was still not looking at her.

"Mother, I… I need your help," Pyrrha talked stumblingly and unwittingly over every sentence, looking very uncertain as she walked around the various chairs - unsure whether it would be more appropriate to sit or stand.

"Oh, is that why you've arranged this meeting between us, Pyrrha?" Thetis ignored the curler in her hand, and let it drop noiselessly onto the cabinet top, "because you need something from me?"

"No!" Pyrrha denied, "I just want to make things right-"

"Oh, and now come the tears," Thetis said with bored exasperation, swivelling her chair about to look at the girl who seemed to be on the verge of hysterics. "I just don't see why you've even bothered, Pyrrha. I thought you made yourself very clear when you abandoned me to go to Vale. You were an independent woman from then on, one who wouldn't need my help… or presence… any longer."

Pyrrha hardly reacted, except to gain a bit more of that composure and purpose which scaffolded her next words.

"Mother," she began, drawing closer to the woman and nearly collapsing when she finally gathered the courage to look her in the eyes, "I… you were right. But, I'm not the one who needs your help, now," Pyrrha begged. "You see, I just need the slightest favor. The smallest, most insignificant favor. It wouldn't even take you a moment!" Pyrrha seemed lost in the tracks of her words, and paced now, obviously nervous, and speaking in a voice that was somehow too loud. "And I'd never ask you for anything afterwards. I'll do whatever you want, if it's within my power! But, I'm asking, from you, the smallest favor, just the smallest gesture of help. You were the one who taught me that the smallest actions matter!" Pyrrha laughed a wooden laugh, suddenly turning to look at Thetis with horrible irony. "And, you have no idea how much you'd save me, how indebted to you I would be, if you could just-!"

"You were indebted to me before," Thetis remarked with hurt pride. "As I recall, that did not even give you pause, when you-"

"That was different!" Pyrrha stopped herself suddenly, unwilling to say anything that might contradict her mother's words. "I… I mean, this is different. I can hardly stand myself, mother. I just need you to wake her up! Even if it's only for a minute, I need you to wake her up, so-"

"Hold on," Thetis interrupted. "Are we being watched?"

"Oh, no," Pyrrha answered earnestly. "I've been assured, on the most certain-"

An invisible mountain of static suddenly crashed into the space.

"What was that?" Pyrrha asked, looking about herself with wide eyes and raised hackles.

"I've shut off the cameras," Thetis responded easily.

"But, mother, if they-"

"If they're true to their word, then the cameras would already be off, and they'll hardly notice the change, will they? Besides, I'd programmed them to run on a loop before you showed up," Thetis gestured with little consequence.

"Anyway, as you were saying?"

Pyrrha shook off the worries, and carried on. "Penny," she answered at last, "It's about Penny. You're the only one who could fix her, mother. I, the thing is, if you could just wake her up, for me. If you could only do that one thing... oh you have no idea what you'd be doing for me. You would be saving me everything!" Pyrrha fell onto her knees suddenly, taking her mother's hands in her own.

Thetis looked down at her daughter with a suddenly sad expression, and she raised a hand to run her fingers through Pyrrha's hair. She noted with some sadness that the color had changed - more a ruddy brown, now, than the brilliant scarlet that had once been such a source of pride for the girl.

Still, she kept her voice tuned to her old, stern, and maternal overtones when she spoke. "It's unwise that you should pile all your hopes onto me," Thetis said. "From what I've heard, the girl is in quite a condition."

"You can save her, mother!' Pyrrha insisted. "I know you can! I just know you can!" she stopped her repetition, closing her eyes to compose herself as she lowered her head, laying her cheek down on the woman's thigh. Pyrrha's hair seemed redder against the blue skirt of Thetis' dress.

Thetis laughed. "You haven't done that since you were a little girl!" she brought a curled hand up to her mouth to hide her laugher. "You're trying to seduce me!" she accused, with sudden playfulness.

"So, will you save her?" Pyrrha asked, lifting her head to look at her.

Thetis tried to hide her sadness at seeing such a needy and immediate look in her daughter's eyes.

"I'll try," she answered.

Pyrrha almost leapt up, a sudden, genuine smile lighting up her face and sending warm sparkles through Thetis' insides.

"But it's not that simple!" Thetis cautioned, immediately working to temper the girl's expectations. "My last departure from here was under… unfavorable circumstances. And Jaques and I have never gotten along, you know that. So, I don't think, in light of that, he will be very willing to allow me-"

"Oh, he will! He will!" Pyrrha said in ecstasy. "He has to! I mean, look at all that he's done so far! He's no stranger to sacrifice. You heard about the orphans, right!"

Thetis rolled her eyes, "yes, we've all heard about that story," she grudgingly admitted.

"And, you can bring Penny back to life," Pyrrha said, voice shaking with excitement. "He'll have to see that that's the right thing to do! I know he-"

And, a sudden shout and a bang interrupted their conversation, as signs of struggle and silence filled the hallway outside.

Pyrrha and Thetis, not trained to inaction, both immediately leapt out onto the hallway, where they saw the bodies of their servants either missing, or in the process of being subdued and teleported away by Pinkamena.

Pyrrha turned to the sudden noise behind them, and there she saw a similar scene, with Schwarz and several of her security team corralling the various Nikos servants as another instance of Pinkamena took them away with flashing insight.

"What is the meaning of this!" Thetis asked shortly, voice roughing down to tones of impending violence.

"Thetis," Schwarz answered calmly, "you are under house arrest, by the authority of the Schnee Manor. I am to escort you, and your staff, to your new accomodations."

Thetis scowled, lowering a glare onto Schwarz's undrawn weapons. She balled her hands into hard fists, eye twitching as she felt Pyrrha reading to do something next to her. And Thetis held her wrists out; "very well," she said at last, returning her face to a more neutral expression. "I know when I'm outmatched."

"Schwarz!" Pyrrha turned the words onto the girl, expressing with them all her hurt and frustration she could manage.

Schwarz didn't answer, face expression less and focusing solely on her task of cuffing Thetis' outheld wrists.

"I trusted you!" Pyrrha accused, "I thought you weren't-"

"I didn't lie," Schwarz said shortly, frustration apparent in her voice. "I allowed you the privacy you asked for, and I'll continue to allow if - for as long as I'm able."

"Then why are you arresting her?" Pyrrha asked, confused. "The council said she could stay!"

"I am under new orders," Schwarz said, still fiddling with the cuffs she'd locked long ago.

"Whose orders?" Pyrrha demanded.

"Mr. Schnee's."