Volume III: Episode 11: A Day Off
Lady Regent Councilor First Minister and Speaker for Parliament Novo Aris of the Mount Aris Arises repeatedly crushed a spring-loaded stress toy in her hand as Ozpin finished up his proposal. She did not look pleased. In fact, she looked at Ozpin as if she was going to burst into flames at any moment.
"Are you serious?" she demanded.
"James is a hero here in Vale," Ozpin reminded her. "We already have protests in the street over his arrest. Among other things. If we give him safe harbor, then-"
"Then the Atlesians might very well consider that an act of war," Keller interrupted. "Now, I have the utmost confidence in our troops - they're good men: skilled, capable, well-equipped - but our forces don't hold a candle to the Atlesian military. That's not a fight we can win, not today, not tomorrow. And that's completely setting aside these 'Decepticons.' What if they decide to make an example of us?"
"Optimus Prime has pledged to protect Vale if the Decepticons attack," Ozpin reminded them, "and they have recently acquired and shared with me critical information regarding Decepticon holdings in Valish territory. Arguably an act of war in and of itself."
"Can he be trusted to follow through on that?" asked Keller. "Not just in motivation among the men, but materiel as well."
"From what I understand, he's done more with less before."
"Uh huh," Novo said skeptically. "And what about the White Fang? We do have that report from Team Coffee regarding the Autobots working with them."
"A rogue agent, as I understand it," Ozpin assured her. "And you might recall, the White Fang's activities in recent months have been, overall, more peaceful... and more targeted when they haven't been quite so peaceful."
"You're saying they're causing the White Fang to turn over a new leaf?" Keller asked speculatively.
"I'm simply reciting data readily available to anyone here," corrected Ozpin.
"What are you thinking, Grand Marshal?" Novo asked rather pointedly.
"I'm thinking that we don't have the manpower or materiel to hit the Decepticons' network. We don't have the time to build up our forces. We don't have much of anything, truthfully. If we do this - and we must do this - we could use all the help we can get."
Novo sighed. "Well, I suppose we have a slight reprieve. There's been an uptick in Grimm activity up in Solitas, enough that they've halted all nonessential traffic, so the extradition request has been put on hold until they can get things secured anyway."
Team JNPR approached Beacon's administrative complex. This part of campus was one that students rarely had reason to venture to, but it was vital to the school's function. It was the bureaucratic heart beating at the metaphorical center of Beacon, the one that kept the paperwork filed and the school running; without it, the cafeteria's pantries would run bare, the Grimmoid training robots would lie in the broken heaps the students often left them in, the Bullheads would sit idle and without fuel.
This, however, was one of the few times they had reason to visit.
"Just be wary," Pyrrha murmured. "Certain PR people can be quite controlling and may try to push you around. Just remember that they need us and stand your ground."
Team JNPR, after all, were the 40th Vytal Tournament First-Year Champions, and with that illustrious accomplishment and title came certain obligations and opportunities. They were here to meet with the PR consultant who would be discussing sponsorship and merchandising deals with them.
Once again, Jaune counted himself lucky to have Pyrrha on his team. It was unlikely other teams would have the benefit of experience backing them up in this particular field.
What did I ever do to deserve someone like her? he wondered, not for the first time, nor, he acknowledged, for the last.
As they walked, he saw someone reading a tabloid, and the front page picture and headline caught his eye. He tilted his head and squinted to get a closer look. It was a shot of him and Pyrrha kissing - after the finals match, if he wasn't mistaken - with a massive headline reading "Royal Wedding?"
"Is that...?" he asked, trailing off.
"Oh!" Pyrrha said hurriedly, her face turning red. "It's just a tabloid, Jaune, nothing to concern yourself with!" She grabbed his arm and began tugging him along.
"Well, yeah," he agreed, "but come on, Pyr. I've never been in a tabloid before. I might have to hunt down a copy, just to-"
"Trust me, Jaune, you're better off ignoring them entirely," Pyrrha insisted quickly.
"All right, all right," he said with a laugh as they neared the building.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Pride of Mistral," a smug voice soured the mood. It was Lightning Dust of Team DSST, the second-year champions, who were exiting the building in front of them just as they reached the door. "I wonder if they'll still call you that with us around."
"Considering we're actually from Mistral, yeah, I think they will," Nora shot back blithely. "Maybe you can try for 'Pride of Atlas'?"
Team DSST's titular team leader scowled.
Trixie Lulamoon, however, zeroed in on Pyrrha. "Oh, the great Pyrrha Nikos. Hmm..." She smiled sweetly. "How does it feel, Princess, not being surrounded by your adoring fans?"
"Quite wonderful, really," Pyrrha answered brightly.
"Finally!" Sunburst exclaimed. "Someone who understands!"
"Don't encourage him!" scolded Lightning.
As the five of them bickered, the actual second-year singles winner, Sunset Shimmer, just arched an eyebrow at them before looking at Jaune.
"Not going to say anything?"
He shrugged. "They're my team," he said. "I trust them. Besides, a leader's got to know when to delegate."
That was his story, and he was sticking to it. Pyrrha and Nora could certainly handle themselves, after all, and he wasn't about to get in the middle of that mess.
"A wise move, Fearless Leader," Ren... praised? Jaune wasn't sure - Ren was hard to read at the best of times - but he was willing to take the compliment at face value.
"Maybe," Sunset said, "but doesn't your team have an appointment to keep? We rescheduled our consultation to get done early, but we were originally scheduled to start right around..." - she paused and glanced at her watch - "...now."
Jaune blinked and checked the time. "Oh, crap! Guys, come on! We're late!"
When they arrived at the designated office and opened the door, they were greeted by an office lined with shelves that held what looked like a lot of merchandise featuring Vytal Tournament contestants... and not just the winners either. Jaune saw what looked like cereal boxes for "Applejack's" and "Coco Puffs," featuring the team leader of that poor girl who'd lost to Sunset in the second-year semifinals and Coco Adel of Team CFVY, respectively.
Waiting for them was an older man with greying, not quite white hair and a full beard. He was broad-shouldered and powerfully built and dressed in a well-made suit.
"Ah, you must be Team Juniper," he greeted.
"Sorry we're late," Jaune apologized.
The man waved it off. "Don't worry about it. I'd say you've earned a night of celebration and sleeping in a little. I certainly didn't make the schedule. Speaking of which, congratulations, you two."
Jaune and Pyrrha blushed. "Thank you," they said in stereo.
The man chuckled, clearly amused. "Anyway, the name's Phil Demodocus; call me Phil. Now, I realize we're not going to get anything committed today - if only because Miss Nikos will have to consult her own agent - but we're here to discuss ideas, which ones you're interested in, which ones you're not, things like that."
"What's with...?" Jaune asked, waving at the shelves.
"Ah," Phil said, "we prototyped stuff for all the contestants. You don't have to win to impress the crowds, after all. I know there are at least half a dozen companies who've approached Miss Belladonna's agent, for example."
That's right. Blake had an agent now, recommended by a friend of Pyrrha's.
"So... what have you got?" Jaune asked.
Phil turned, reached into a box, and began laying a few of the prototypes.
"Action figures?" squealed Nora, grabbing the aforementioned action figures. "We get action figures?"
"With Kung Fu Grip," confirmed Phil as Nora began playing with them. "There's also a proposal - and this one's going to all the participants - for a fighting game."
"A fighting game?" Jaune asked.
Phil nodded. "Yes. We'd use motion capture to copy your fighting style into a database and generate the move sets from there. The story campaign would involve a Grimm cultist attacking the festival with an army of Grimm and attempting to bring down the CCT network."
"That sounds... interesting," Ren mused. "I wasn't aware fighting games had story campaigns."
"They do," Phil confirmed. "There's also a proposal for an alternate battle mode fighting Grimm, loosely based on your mission to Mountain Glenn. Possibly as a separate game, depending on how far they can stretch the game engine."
Jaune frowned. "Given how much of that mission is classified..."
Phil waved it off. "'Loosely based,' I said. They've got writers that can invent something. There's talk about going with a global kidnapping plot and unethical experiments in hybridizing Grimm with people."
"That doesn't even make sense," Nora protested, setting down her and Ren's action figures. "What would be the point? Why can't it be historically accurate?"
"Classified," Jaune reminded her.
"Historically authentic then," insisted Nora.
"That's part of the point of fictionalizing events," Pyrrha explained. "Less plausible storylines are less likely to get confused for reality."
"But… but…"
Ren put his hand on her shoulder. "Nora, let it go."
She crossed her arms and pouted. "I'll be back."
"Now, one of the things you don't get a say on - since you already agreed when you entered the tournament; just the details need sorted - are your cards for the Amity Arena scroll game," Phil said, then paused. "That you're getting them, I mean; you, of course, still get final approval, subject to balancing, on how the cards actually perform."
"All right, cool," Jaune said. "What have you got?"
"For you, Mister Arc," Phil said, seeming apologetic, "we're looking at a pretty basic melee trooper unit: well-balanced, not too strong, not too tough, but easily upgradable, the kind of card that forms the backbone of every deck. Mister Ren, your unit is looking to be more a single-target DPS unit: fragile, but hard-hitting. For Miss Nikos and Miss Valkyrie, we're looking at two cards each-"
"Why do we get two?" Nora interrupted curiously.
"We sell better," Pyrrha answered with the voice of experience.
"Quite so, Miss Nikos," Phil confirmed. "Moreover, your weapons are more versatile and lend themselves to greater differentiation. Miss Nikos, for you, we're looking at a melee card with mob clearing skill and a ranged card with an activated single-target heavy attack. Miss Valkyrie, your proposed melee card has an activated skill for dealing damage and sending a target flying, while your proposed ranged card has a very long range and wide area of effect at the cost of being relatively fragile."
He laid out large scrolls before them. "Here are the specifics, if you're interested. We're also looking for suggestions for legendary team attack cards, if you have any you're willing to divulge."
Team JNPR picked up the scrolls and began looking through them, murmuring quietly to each other.
"What do you mean I'm not immune to stun?!"
The mood in the guest dorm occupied by Team JSPR was... quiet, to say the least. Gloomy, to be more accurate. Maud was... Maud. Flash looked like he wanted to say something - anything - to break the silence but couldn't seem to find the words. Applejack just looked guilty, and as for Rainbow Dash?
Well, Rainbow was curled up on her bed, staring at the wall, unmoving.
There was a knock at the door. Rainbow ignored it. She heard footsteps approach the door before it opened.
"What are you doin' here?" Applejack hissed in a tone quite unlike herself. Well, unlike herself except...
"We're here to talk," Sour Sweet's voice answered.
...except when Shadowbolts were involved! Rainbow rolled over and sprung to her feet, hands balling into fists.
"What the heck do you think we have to say to the likes of you?!" she demanded. There, framed by the doorway, stood Team SSCL. Shadowbolts were easy to goad, CPCA's hyper-competitive culture making it hard for them to dismiss any perceived challenge or insult. And Rainbow could really use some stress relief right now.
Surprisingly, they didn't rise to the bait.
Sour hesitated, then glanced down the hall to her left and right. "Can we-? This is something that should be discussed in private."
Applejack's eyes narrowed. "How private?"
"We got a message from Twilight," piped up Seal.
You contacted them, Twi? Rainbow thought. The betrayal still hurt.
"Git in here," Applejack snapped, jerking her head to the interior of the room. Team SSCL filed in warily - this was Canterlot territory, after all - but none of them even flinched when Applejack slammed the door shut. "So talk."
"Why'd she send you a message but not us?" Rainbow demanded.
"Because she wanted to keep you safe," Sour spat, then closed her eyes and visibly tried to rein herself in. "Gods, you Rainbooms are such a- an influence on her," she grumbled in exasperation. "At least she isn't treating us like we need protecting."
Something about that stoked an ember in Rainbow's heart.
Sour frowned at them. "Have you even tried calling her after she landed?"
Rainbow blinked. "What?"
Team SSCL's leader rolled her eyes. "She went to Vacuo, not Menagerie. I know the jokes, but they are on the CCT network, you know. Just... don't talk about anything classified. Remember the General's orders last year?"
"Twilight found out who's been pulling the strings in Atlas," Lemon explained, dragging the conversation back on-topic. "The Council's sold out to a bunch of giant alien robots called the Decepticons. Some Vacuans got wind of it, and they're building an army to fight them. They're calling themselves the Oktober Guard."
Rainbow blinked. Then blinked again. Then she noticed Applejack looking at her. "What?"
"What was that ya said?" Applejack asked, arching an eyebrow. "About those 'camels' not bein' able ta help?"
Rainbow shrank back at the stares from the Shadowbolts.
"That's... wow, that's... that's something," Lemon commented. "I dunno what it is, but it's something."
"She's like a faunus version of Ilia?" offered Seal.
"Oh gods no," cursed Sour. "There's no way she's that bad. After all, she's nationalist, not racist. Civis Atlarus Sum."
That... that was probably the one thing that would bring Crystal City and Canterlot together, Rainbow had to admit. In the end, they were all Atlesian... as much as she hated to admit having anything in common with the Shadowbolts.
"So iffen Twilight didn't want ta tell us," Applejack drawled, "why did you?"
"Because," Sour said, "we think Twilight's... misguided... in trying to keep you safe by keeping you in the dark. You're in this already, and..." - she hesitated, grinding her teeth - "...you do deserve to know what this was all about." Wow. Was that... respect? "It's not like you were going to let it go, after all. Were you?"
Rainbow... hadn't actually thought about it since they'd found Twilight's message. Now that she did, though, she had to reluctantly admit that the Shadowbolt was right.
"The biggest thing to worry about," Sour said, "is the CCT. While no one knows for sure, it's a good bet these 'Decepticons' can tap into CCT communications."
"Hence Ironwood's orders," said Maverick - Seal's husband, not that Rainbow was jealous or anything! - crossing his arms and tapping two fingers against the limb under them. "He's been secretly working against the Decepticons this whole time, trying to keep us safe, but now them and their allies on the Council have finally found a way to do him in."
"There's more," Sour said. "The SDC's the main contact with the Decepticons. And if you remember what happened to Joyce..." She trailed off at the blank looks she got, then crossed her arms in annoyance. "He was a bigwig at the SDC here in Vale, and allegedly was involved in the whole kidnapping scheme. He 'committed suicide' in his cell, conveniently before he could incriminate anyone else."
"They're going to kill Ironwood," realized Flash aloud, his mouth agape.
Lemon pointed at him. "Got it in one. Why do you think he's not allowed any visitors or any communications devices while he's under house arrest? He can't talk to the media, he can't talk to his students, he can't talk to a lawyer or a cop, he's not even allowed to talk to his own family. Right now, he's got the teachers guarding him, but who knows when that might change? All these guys need is one infiltrator in the right position, and poor Professor Goodwitch gets to become a widow before she's a wife."
"That's another thing," spoke up Seal. "The Decepticons... they have these things called 'Pretender Shells.' They can pass for human or faunus or any biological species with them."
"So, we've got ta rescue the General," Applejack mused grimly. "Any other bombshells ya got fer us?"
"Just one," Seal said with a thin smile. "I've got an idea on how to take Sunset Shimmer down a peg. You want in?"
Rainbow frowned suspiciously. "Why do you care?"
"She insulted Twilight," Sour answered, "and that's not something we can just let go."
Well, maybe there were two things she could agree with the Shadowbolts on.
Team APRC(T) - minus their P and T - stood in an unused room in the hospital wing. Shadow had brought them there, and at that moment, she was living up to her callsign. The scant light from the cracks in the blinds was casting strange bars of darkness about that their team leader blended partially into with, the only stand-out part of her body being her light-skinned chin and red lips.
"We need to break my father out," Aska informed them gravely.
Mad Dog's eyebrows shot up, something he wasn't entirely sure was visible in the gloom. "Break him out? Do you know what you're saying, Shadow?"
"I know exactly what I'm saying," declared their leader. "We cannot allow him to be executed for a crime that he didn't commit."
Farsight spoke then, her blue eyes seeming to take on an unnatural brightness in the dark. "I understand your concerns, Shadow, and I am sure he will be proven innocent at trial, but we cannot attack our own teachers out of fear."
"'Trial'?" hissed Shadow in disgust. "'Trial'? They've denied him the right to a military tribunal. They're going to stick him in one of those civilian courts. They are going to have the verdict predetermined. They're going to kill him, Farsight. They're going to kill my father, your headmaster!"
"Have you sworn any oaths, Shadow?" asked Farsight with a strange note in her normal monotone.
"Only one," answered Shadow. "And that has been fulfilled."
"So have I." Farsight stepped closer to Shadow. "I swore an oath to serve the Provisional Government Outline of Mantle, not General Ironwood."
"When did that happen?" asked Mad Dog incredulously, prompting the two young women to turn and look at him in a very scary way. "Just curious."
"When Albion Mountain Combat Praxeum volunteered its classes to join in the defense of the inland sea settlements, we were made to swear an oath as part of the process to make us privates third class for the duration of the battle," explained Farsight.
"That battle is long over," pointed out Shadow. "Why not serve your commander?"
"Why do you insist on serving him?" asked Farsight. "A few months ago, you could not stand him, nor the thought of being related to him, and now, you are ready to possibly die for him?"
"...I was a fool," admitted Shadow. "I was a fool and could not acknowledge what was plain for all to see: James Ironwood is my father. Now, my whole being is finally in alignment, and I know that I must serve my father. I cannot do that if he has been murdered by corrupt parasites."
There was a moment of silence between the two, and Mad Dog wasn't sure if he should say anything. He was glad he didn't when the most shocking thing he had seen in years happened.
Farsight reached out and encircled her arms around their very confused team leader.
Shadow blinked several times. "What is this?"
"Your father is a good man, but he was clearly far too busy to give you the proper amount of hugs," Farsight mechanically informed her.
Shadow looked at Mad Dog in confusion, and he could only reply with a bewildered shrug.
"Mad Dog, you must embrace Shadow as well," Farsight ordered him.
"Oh, uh, okay," answered Mad Dog before wrapping both of them up in a perplexed hug.
"Do not be hasty in your actions," Farsight warned. "You are not the only one whose respect your father commands. There may yet be a peaceful resolution to this."
Things were going down the tubes in Atlas, and they were going down them fast. Perhaps no one was more aware of that than the Judge Advocate General of the Atlesian Armed Forces' Unified Judge Advocate General Corps, Colonel-Attorney Mi Amore Cadenza, better known to her friends as Cadance. She might not have been privy to some of the more classified goings on as others, but she was down in the mechanics of the system more than almost any other senior officer and so knew first hand just how much the Council had been abusing the legal system and the traditions of their society.
And the system was being abused. What other word could be used when the Commanding General of the military was not just dismissed but dishonorably discharged without trial, without even an investigation, by mere fiat of the council? What other word could be used when a decorated officer who had been in good standing and high regard until literally an hour before his discharge was being denied the right to be tried in a military court and instead being prosecuted by a civilian attorney who had donated substantial amounts of money to Councilor Sylvia's reelection campaign in a court presided over by a judge who had been appointed by that selfsame councilor?! The Provisional Government Outline of Mantle was being turned into a perforated wreck in front of her eyes, and she felt as helpless before it as when Principal Abacus Cinch had destroyed her old school.
Cadance's path to the JAG was rather roundabout and, in more sane times, probably wouldn't have ever happened. A graduate of Crystal Preparatory Combat Academy with a specialization in law, she had gone straight to Atlas Academy and continued with her studies in her preferred specialization there. When her schooling was complete, she had taken the bar exam and managed to become an attorney, following which she enlisted in the military and soon joined the JAG Corps, where she stayed for several years until her tour of duty was elapsed. Her run for the Provisional Council hadn't worked out, and she was invited to Crystal Prep to serve as dean. Being at her old school as a faculty member had been an… experience, one with more ups and downs than she could count, however short it was, but one which she was nevertheless sad to see end when and how it did.
She had always been an advocate of softening the culture of Crystal Prep to a certain degree, but when Cinch said one day that she was taking her advice, Cadance wanted to take it all back. The principal went far beyond any clique dispersal or anti-hall fighting measures and instead enforced a new policy which saw the margin for passing grades expanded to an absurd degree, physical standards reduced, and even the name of their sports team changed. The changes were coming too much, too fast, and when she tried to argue with Cinch to get her to stop, she was told that her only options were to shut up or get out. So she resigned and rejoined the military as a part of the JAG Corps once more.
She hadn't even been back there a single year before the Grimm started to swarm towards the northern sea and all those settlements around it. The whole of Atlas mobilized to save the day and suffered grievous losses in the effort. Among those lost were Cadance's commanding officers. It had resulted in a battlefield promotion to colonel-attorney, and when the week of hell had ended, she had found that she was the highest ranking attorney left in the JAG Corps.
Picking up the pieces after that had been difficult, but she had persevered. Then half a year later… madness, utter madness. Something happened with the Provisional Council, something that shook General Ironwood to his core, though he never said what. Secret projects were being approved left, right, and center; documents that passed her desk became ever more heavily redacted; and legal procedure was being overridden. And it only kept getting worse, leading to the situation she was in at that moment.
It was part of the reason why, when General Ironwood had asked her for her advice on how to handle Twilight after she had been suspected of pointing Weiss Schnee towards one of those new secret facilities, she had encouraged him to have Rainbow Dash and Applejack talk to her instead of just letting the matter go or having her team leader handle things like he had been planning to. Sunny Flare was good, one of the best students Cadance had ever had the pleasure of teaching, but she lacked the hyper-protective paranoia that Twilight's Canterlotian friends possessed. Cadance knew for a certain fact that they would take it as evidence of tacit permission to go down the seal hole and discover just what laid underneath the ice, and then they would bring it to light.
Obviously, that little gambit had not paid off as she had hoped, but there was still a chance that it would in the end. Team JSPR had a disciplinary record now related to snooping around on Beacon campus, and Team FIST had transferred to Shade just that week before leaving for Vacuo in an obvious zany scheme. Things were moving on that front, but they might not have been moving fast enough.
Cadance was broken out of her own thoughts by a buzzer on her desk and her assistant's voice. "Ma'am, General Colton is here to see you."
Her eyes went wide, and she moved swiftly to reply. "Send them in."
She got out of her chair and stood at attention, such that when the door opened and the most famous Atlesian in history entered her small office, she was quickly able to snap a salute. "Sir!"
The general acknowledged her with a salute of his own. "Grüße, Oberstrichter. At ease."
Some officers were surprised when the Mantellian names for their ranks were used instead of the Valish, but Cadance never was, thanks to her aunt having a habit for just such a thing. "Sir, to what do I owe this honor?"
"Need your help with a bit of a zany scheme," he said plainly. "The future of Atlas may depend on it."
"Sir!"
A party. They were throwing a party. Honestly, Cadance had to admit that it was certainly the kind of environment that would allow one the opportunity to get a DNA sample, but it still stuck in her craw that they were throwing a party while the world went insane.
She tried to maintain her composure as she mingled, making sure to occasionally spill a little from her champagne flute to continue the illusion of drinking. Approaching Councilor Sylvia was going to be tricky.
And through a gap in the crowd, she saw her target. Councilor Sylvia was... talking to General Colton? Who had just given her a hearty slap on the back that sent her staggering a little?
Colton looked up at her and nodded.
...that was it? Really? The world really had gone insane.
"Are you sure I can't convince you to return to Atlas?" Calliope Ferny asked. "I'm sure if I spoke to Mister Schnee-"
"Callie, no," Cala Brown said firmly, cutting off her sister. "Pulling strings to help myself would be unethical. Besides, the people in Vale need to see that we at the SDC aren't afraid of these baseless accusations."
At least... she hoped they were baseless. Still, what she had said was true. They couldn't afford to show fear... even if she felt it. That fear was why she'd already sent Chris and Little Callie on back to their second home in Atlas, even as she stayed here in Vale. It was why she had been living here out of her office for the past couple of days. It was why she was very tempted by her sister's offer.
Why didn't we buy that apartment in Mistral instead? They seem to be the only ones not going mad.
Said sister pursed her lips. "All right," she relented, "but I'm leaving Ender and Ransom here to serve as your close protection detail while I try to sort the rest of this mess out." Her gaze swept critically around the room, her disdain for the Vale branch's own security self-evident. "Don't do anything stupid, Sister. Stay safe."
"Of course."
With that, Calliope the Elder snapped to an about-face and marched out of the office.
Cala worried and irrationally wondered if that would be the last she'd ever see of her sister. After all, it was Callie who was marching out into an enraged city, while she stayed here, safely ensconced in her office, surrounded by armored glass and multiple layers of security.
You too, Sis.
"Ah, Targeter, you've returned," observed General Flagg as the white-haired interloper loped into the room deep within the secretive wing of a mostly classified medical facility.
Winter nodded as she brought out a tiny data drive. "This information was extremely hard to get, but yes, here it is. In and out without anyone noticing and without a trace left."
"Excellent," said Flagg, taking the drive into his own hand and looking at it strangely. "That's all that's on here, right? I'm not going to find anyone else's DNA but Sylvia's on this, right?"
"Of course, sir," Winter assured him.
"Good," acknowledged Flagg before he inserted the drive into the computer on the desk and began to access it. "I know it sounds absurd to a newbie, but we don't want to violate anyone's privacy anymore than we need to to do our jobs."
"It doesn't sound absurd in the least, sir," replied Winter.
Flagg glanced over his shoulder at her. "I can see why the General likes you, Targeter."
"Thank you, sir."
"That wasn't a compliment. I was just relaying… hello, what do we have here?" asked Flagg.
"What is it, sir?" inquired Winter curiously.
"We'll have to get an expert in here to confirm the results," reasoned Flagg, "because according to the computer, not only is the sample from CPCA you brought back different from the sample Colton got, but they're not even from the same race."
"What do you mean, sir?"
"I mean the Sylvia who attended Crystal Prep was human, but the Sylvia who's sitting on the council right now is a faunus."
The skyline of Vale wasn't the most appealing sight in the world, but it gained a certain appeal when viewed from the windows of the high-rise restaurant that Lady Belladonna had taken Weiss and Blake to. She had tried to invite Ruby and Yang too, but they had declined for a prior arrangement. What that arrangement was, the younger sister - who was the one answering the call - would not say, but she thought it was important.
Weiss really was really starting to get suspicious, but what could she do? Demand that Ruby tell her what was going on and get flatly denied? She knew how defensive Ruby got about secrets. And after what had happened first semester with Yang, she was a little leery about pressing on what was obviously a sensitive matter.
Nevertheless, put it all out of her mind was exactly what she did, for she did not wish to raise a scene that would offend the lady of Menagerie, especially not after she had gotten Weiss the lovely red and orange dress she was wearing at that moment for the formal luncheon. Blake, likewise, was wearing her own black dress that was a fair bit more sleek than what she wore to the Beacon Dance but which was still appropriate for both the location and her station. Lady Belladonna wore something similar to her daughter, but with gold accents in strategic points that matched the golden jewelry she also wore. Even the ever present bodyguard detail were wearing formal clothing, such that they looked just like they belonged along with everyone else.
The trick almost worked on Weiss too, almost.
"Weiss, chin up," ordered Lady Belladonna softly, and the snowcapped girl lifted her gaze from the floor in response.
An awkward exchange of glances rippled between Blake and Weiss at that, punctuated by the shame they both felt but knew they shouldn't but still engaged in anyway because they had a hard time getting over themselves. Such was the embarrassment that passed between them that they adopted the posture of those with rulers down their backs and those trying absurdly hard to avoid seeming like they didn't belong in a formal setting. The bodyguards, as always, kept their opinions to themselves, but the two friends could very well imagine what they were thinking.
It was then that the party approached the entrance to the restaurant, in the dividing line between the normal office space and the restaurant to the side and above. It was all quite impressive. The door to the restaurant even had a platinum leaf trim.
"Lady Belladonna, how did you get a reservation here on such short notice?" asked Weiss with no small amount of wonder. "I tried getting a table here months ago, and I was told that the waiting list was over a year and a half long."
Blake's mother smiled mirthfully and had an echo of laughter upon her lips. "The Belladonna name, it seems, hasn't been forgotten by everyone in Vale."
Weiss shot Blake a "really?" look, and the black-haired girl shrugged.
"But that name would mean nothing," continued Lady Belladonna, "without a kind and generous heart that speaks honestly with joyful laughter and loyalty to their friends. That is where the magic comes from."
The words tinged at something familiar to Weiss. "That is a lovely summation, ma'am."
"You can thank your Shadowbolt friends for that, especially young Twilight," admitted Lady Belladonna shamelessly. "I've used variations of that throughout the years, but she brought it into stark clarity."
"We would, but she left early," replied Blake. "Apparently, her and her team transferred to Shade, and they've gone to Vacuo. I'll be sure to tell Team Scarlet if I get the chance, though."
"Hmm, sounds like the beginnings of a zany scheme if I ever heard one," mused Lady Belladonna as they entered through the door.
Instantly, the music of wonderful Valish violins filled the air, and Weiss was taken back to a time oh so long ago when she listened to her sister play the instrument and thought it the most beautiful sound in the world. It was a good memory, perhaps the last one she had left. Just like those pleasant days, though, it didn't last.
"Hello, good sir," Lady Belladonna greeted the maître d'. "We should be filed under 'Belladonna.'"
The man, the human man, in his well-cut suit, looked at all of them from behind his stand and then looked Weiss in the eyes and delivered a line that she thought only existed in movies. "I'm sorry, but we don't serve your kind here."
"What did you just say?" demanded Weiss in a low and accusatory voice, stepping up and pointing at Lady Belladonna. "Don't you know who she is? She's the First Lady of Menagerie! She, her daughter, their guards, they don't deserve that kind of bigotry! This is a diplomatic incident in progress."
The maître d' looked confused for a moment, but only a moment. "Ah! I understand the confusion. I should have been more specific." His hand reached out and pointed directly at Weiss's face. "We don't serve your kind here."
Weiss felt the world give out from under her. "What?"
The maître d' sniffed. "We don't serve Schnees here."
Lady Belladonna took a slight sidestep into the conversation while Blake put her arm around Weiss's shoulder. "Then it's fortunate there aren't any Schnees in this party, isn't it?"
"Ma'am, I'm not blind," objected the man. "That's clearly Weiss Schnee, and her portrait's very clearly on our 'do not serve' list."
"You don't watch the news that much, do you?"
"No, I stopped after those yellow journalists fabricated the outrage over that pink slime years ago," admitted the man.
"Yes, that was a truly dreadful episode. It's a shame they settled instead of suing that network into the ground," agreed Lady Belladonna. "Tell you what, contact your boss, Mister Kos, and tell him that Kali Belladonna is here to see him."
He acknowledged, and in short order, the owner of the establishment made an appearance. In the scant minutes before he appeared, though, Weiss found herself sinking deeper and deeper into a powerful sense of humiliation. She wanted to apologize to Blake and her mother for causing them trouble, go back to her dorm, shut the door, and not be seen by anyone. She felt like such a stupid, stupid girl for putting herself out like that.
"Kali!" greeted the man that Weiss could guess was Mister Kos, walking up to Lady Belladonna jovially. "Kali, it's been too long. I must say, it was quite a shock to hear you were booking with us today. I hadn't heard you were in town."
"You should stay up with current events more, Colin," replied Kali with a smile. "It would make these appearances less of a surprise and make incidents like these less likely."
Mister Kos's eyes narrowed slightly. "What's happened?"
He looked to the side, noticed Weiss, and then whispered something to Lady Belladonna. She couldn't hear with her useless human ears, but she could very well imagine what was being said. It was something about her father, she was sure of it.
Lady Belladonna whispered something back, a very short conversation followed, and then the owner of the establishment talked to the maître d'. "Kerwin, remove Weiss Schnee from the list. If Kali Belladonna vouches for her, then that's all that needs to be said."
The maître d' nodded in assent and went about following those orders while the owner turned back to them. "I'm so sorry for the confusion, madam. We'll make sure our policies are more up to date in the future. Please, consider all expenses for this visit waived and allow me to escort you to your table."
"Thank you, Colin," replied Lady Belladonna.
A minute later, they were on the upper floor, seated at a table next to one of the panoramic windows, and the owner of the establishment had left after assuring them that a waiter would soon be there.
"I'm sorry," bit out Weiss now that they were alone, with even the bodyguards at different tables.
"Don't apologize, Weiss, you did nothing wrong," contradicted Blake with caring eyes before she turned to face her mother with far angrier eyes. "Mom, why are we still here? We should have left the moment Weiss was denied service. That's clear discrimination."
"And now the matter is settled," pointed out Lady Belladonna. "It was an insult, yes, but one borne out of ignorance and pain. With rage and retaliation, you can't fix that; you can only make it worse. It would have felt good to walk on out, but one gets further with friendships and a kind word." With that, she turned to Weiss. "But this is academic. In the immediate: how are you, Weiss? Blake was right to say that it wasn't your fault. You did absolutely nothing wrong."
"I'm fine, ma'am," Weiss lied, leaning on long years of experience in the social circles of Atlesian high society. Maybe if she said it enough, it would be true. Besides, this... it was hardly the worst thing she'd experienced, and surely, faunus had and continued to face much, much worse.
Lady Belladonna's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she let it pass.
As they perused the menus, Lady Belladonna spoke up conversationally, "So, tell me, Weiss. Did you travel a lot before coming to Beacon?"
Weiss tilted her head and considered the question. "We... there are a number of Schnee estates across Solitas-"
"I mean outside Atlas, dear."
"I did accompany my father on a few business trips to Vale and Mistral," she said.
"Hmm." Lady Belladonna looked thoughtful. "That settles it, then."
"Settles what?" the former heiress asked, startled.
"Why, you coming with me to visit Menagerie," she said cheerfully. "I think you could do with a change of scenery. You could certainly benefit from a little more sun. You can invite your best friend too!"
"Mom!" Blake protested. "I'm right here!"
Weiss smiled at that. There were very few bright spots in her life right now, and her friendship with Blake was one of them. It was nice to know the feeling was mutual.
"Yes, you are, honey," Lady Belladonna said glibly, "instead of at home with your father like you should be."
"Mo-o-om."
"I realize Menagerie doesn't have a CCT Tower, sweetie, but we do have couriers making regular mail runs to and from Mistral. You could have written us. Like your friend Weiss here."
"I'm sure that you were never far from Blake's thoughts, ma'am," offered Weiss in an attempt to calm things down.
Blake flinched. "Actually, I… uh… hey! They have a fish platter here! Let's get that!" She paused and gave her mother a pleading look. "It's a traditional Valish dish! You have to try it while you're here, Mom."
Lady Belladonna kept staring at Blake until the younger woman wilted a little, then chuckled. "Of course, dear. How can I come to Vale and not try the local cuisine before we go home?"
"Mom," Blake murmured, "I'll visit, but... I'm coming back to Vale."
"Blake, sweetie," Lady Belladonna said, "I know you want to become a Huntress, but you can study in Menagerie and take the license test. It's not like the ADM is lacking in experienced personnel." She tilted her head slightly and gave a teasing grin. "Or maybe you could transfer to Haven? That's a little closer to home, and you could be with that cute boy of yours."
Blake flushed, and her ears flattened. "It- it's not like that, Mom! It's..." She paused. "My new agent told me I've... I've got offers. Offers for a lot of money and publicity. Apparently, I really impressed some people in the tournament."
Both Weiss and Lady Belladonna blinked at that.
She stared at them. "Don't you see?" she asked. "Publicity. I'm- I'm a celebrity now. This- this gives me visibility. I could become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all. In doing so, I could do more for faunus rights than I ever could in Menagerie or the White Fang."
"I see," her mother acknowledged, then turned to look at the snowcapped girl. "What about you, Weiss?"
Weiss blinked. "Me? I've gotten a few offers to sing, but first, I'm going to need to get a new agent. I'll try my best to get the message out when I do get those jobs though."
"It's good to hear that you're getting job offers, but that wasn't what I was asking," Lady Belladonna clarified. "I was repeating the same thing I asked Blake: Would you like to come and stay in Menagerie for a while? More than a visit, I mean. As I said, I'm sure I can find you some tutors, and you'd still be able to test for a license and become a Huntress." There was something in the older woman's eyes, concern, caring, almost pleading.
"I..." Weiss blinked and took a deep breath to center herself. "I thank you for the offer, ma'am, but I... I have a responsibility to bring the SDC down."
"You sound like me with the White Fang when I came to Beacon," Blake pointed out. "You have to let it go. You are not responsible for the SDC's actions any more than I am responsible for the White Fang's after I left."
"Weiss," Lady Belladonna added gently, "you were not born guilty of your father's sins. Don't live as though you are."
"I…" Weiss found herself reeling. She felt strange, almost euphoric, but snug and protected at the same time. What was this feeling? What did it mean? Why did it feel so familiar and yet so alien?
"I don't want this to turn into a pity party for me," answered Weiss finally.
"So let's turn it into a group pity party," Lady Belladonna suggested, causing the two younger women to boggle at her. "After all, we all have reason to be pitied. You and your father, Weiss, and you and the White Fang, Blake."
There was a long, pregnant silence.
"And you, ma'am?" Weiss asked, as she was evidently expected to.
"Why, my lack of grandchildren of course!"
"Wow, this thing is huge!" cooed Ruby in wonder, looking up and about at the equipment in the partially active room in the Ark and especially the large, ring-like device that was the purpose for the room's existence.
"I mean, it's basically just a big door; it's not that big," commented Yang with a shrug.
"Technically, it's a bridge," corrected Bumblebee, looming over the others by virtue of his slight height difference, "a ground bridge."
"As opposed to what, a water bridge?" asked Uncle Qrow, who was thankfully in one of his more sober moods.
"No, as opposed to a space bridge," Yang cleared up. "That's the goal we're all working towards. If we manage to get a space bridge up and running, then we'll be able to open a portal to Cybertron and finally figure out what's changed since we've been away. If the Decepticons manage to get a space bridge first, though… well, they'll do the same thing we will, but it will be for evil!"
Taiyang looked between his eldest daughter and her robotic partner. "That's a lot of 'we's' in there, Yang."
The woman often known as Sunfire turned on him with a curious expression. "I guess? I mean, I am an Autobot. I have the rank and everything to prove it."
"But you're also a member of the White Fang," pointed out Ruby quietly.
"Yep," Yang agreed. "Got the mask and everything to prove it."
"I'm... sorry about your mask," Ruby said. "The one we broke."
"The one Blake broke," Yang corrected.
"Don't worry," Bumblebee interjected. "She's got, like, two dozen of 'em now. According to... your brother, they break pretty often anyway."
"So, Rubes," Yang said, "been meaning to ask: What's this about a 'Team Rainbow'?"
"Oh. Aheheh. Riiight..."
"-and that's what I've been up to with Team Rainbow!" Ruby finished.
"Magic?" Yang asked skeptically. "Grimm-melting laser eyes? Really?"
"It's all true," their father assured her. "I've been helping her make sure she can use them properly when she needs them."
"So, was there a reason you kept all this a secret from me, Ruby?" Yang asked.
"A lot of…" Ruby trailed off. "I... I didn't want to worry you."
Yang stared at her sister for a long moment, then said, "If you didn't want to worry me, you probably shouldn't have run into the middle of a threeway firefight and gotten shot."
"Oh, come on!"
The music strumming through the air was a waltz, one whose name Nora didn't know. Then again, you didn't need to know what the music was called to dance to it. Not that Nora was dancing. No, she was sitting in the corner, nursing a drink, as she watched Jaune and Pyrrha dancing.
She was also trying really hard not to remember that she was now alone in a booth with Ren.
Tonight was one of the many dances celebrating the Vytal Festival, and as the first-year champions, Team JNPR was all but obligated to attend. Fortunately - or unfortunately; Nora was undecided - it was the sort of dance that, despite the formality, a date wasn't expected, if only because of how close it came on the heels of the finals.
"They are remarkable dancers," Ren observed. Of course, Ren would be able to judge that. Dance and choreography was one of his few hobbies, though he didn't indulge in it much.
"They're in love," Nora pointed out. "I hear that makes quite the difference."
"Hmm," Ren murmured. "Indeed."
Nora looked over at him and pondered whether she'd be able to gather up the courage to ask him to dance.
Probably not.
"Hey there, kid."
Ruby looked up from the workbench and scowled petulantly. "Don't call me 'kid.'"
The flame-streaked Autobot shook his head as he sat cross-legged next to her. It still amazed her how articulate they could be.
"Not a chance, kid," he said. "Do you know how rarely I get a chance to call anyone else that?" He held out a hand. "Name's Hot Rod."
Sighing and turning, Ruby reached out and placed her hand on his finger, shaking it.
"What do you mean by that?" she asked curiously. "You're millions of years old!"
He shook his head. "Not really. We still don't know for sure how long we were in stasis, and I was only sparked a decade and a half or so before this mission came up," he said. "Usually, you need a couple decades more experience before you get assigned to a big mission like this, especially one with Prime himself leading it."
Ruby's lips twitched. "So, you're fifteen too?"
"I guess, kinda?" he admitted. "Something like that." He shifted his position and peered at the workbench. "So, whatcha workin' on?"
"Kinfinder," she answered, turning back to her work. "Adam's weapon," she clarified after a moment. "I thought I'd kill some time by working on it."
Yang and Bumblebee had gone off to help with the supplies, while their father and Uncle Qrow were discussing... stuff with Prowl and Jazz, leaving Ruby to her own devices.
"Can I help?" he offered. "I mean, I may be young, but I'm no slouch," he added proudly. "Designed and built my own weapon myself."
Ruby perked up and looked back at him. "Really?"
"Yeah." He nodded and snapped out what looked like a burgundy bow, except...
"No bowstring?" she asked curiously.
"Doesn't need one," he explained as he activated it, yellow energy flaring to life from it. "It's an energy bow."
"...that is SO COOL!"
Ruby found herself warming up to Hot Rod as they talked and bounced ideas off each other.
"What are you doing?" asked Adam as he arrived on the scene after an indeterminate length of time, his expression almost unreadable underneath his mask.
"Me and Hot Rod are designing Kinfinder!" explained Ruby with a smile.
Adam frowned. "Without my input?"
There was a sharp intake of breath from Ruby. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I was so excited that I forgot that… I'm sorry!"
"Am I missing something here?" asked Hot Rod in confusion.
Ruby looked back up at her partner in construction. "Weapons are a part of ourselves, and the weapon of a Huntsman is that and more. To start reforging my brother's weapon without his input is a grave insult."
Adam, it seemed, was not fazed. "Just don't do it again and go find your father. Me and the other Fang are moving out finally, and I'd rather you weren't seen by them."
The bloodcrowned girl looked at him, and the smile was back, but different. "He's your father too, Big Brother, but okay. I'll go talk to Dad about packing up."
With that, she was off like a shot, using her semblance to gain a great deal of ground towards where she was fairly certain she needed to be... only to round a corner and collide with someone.
Ruby blinked as she looked up at whoever she had run into.
"Who are you?" the White Fang member asked curiously, looking down at her.
"I'm Ruby!" she answered reflexively. "I'm, uh, Adam's sister!"
As she got up, Adam jogged up behind her, and the White Fang member studied her, then looked at Adam, then looked back at her.
He nodded.
"I can see the resemblance."
In Team CFVY's dorm, they and Team RRFL stood around one of the beds, upon which was laid out a map of Vale. Various locations had been marked out on the map in marker, and the two teams exchanged looks.
"So," Coco said, "this is it, huh?"
Lavi nodded. "Yeah. I think this is as close as we're going to get to all the White Fang bases in Vale."
"They've probably got a lot more safehouses and boltholes, mind you," Velvet said, "but... yeah, this is pretty much it for big meeting places and headquarters."
"We should turn it into the authorities," rumbled Rain. "The VPD and Headmaster Ozpin can handle this."
"No," Coco said, shaking her head. The other seven turned to face her.
"Are... you sure about that?" Fox asked, his blind eyes doing nothing to diminish the concern on his face. "Coco, we can't take on the whole White Fang on our own."
"No," she agreed, "but I'm not sure we need to. There's a lot of this secret conspiracy stuff going on, enough that I'm not entirely sure who's actually on which side... or even which side we should be on."
"So, what are you suggesting?" Reg asked, crunching on some peanuts.
"I say we sit on it for a bit," Coco answered. "Keep it quiet, figure out what the White Fang are actually up to before we commit to anything."
"Coco…" growled Rain in exasperation.
"Come on, Rain, don't be a tattletale about this," Coco accused. "What's the harm going to be if we wait a few days?"
Rain threw his hands up. "Fine. We'll wait to tell the headmaster and police, but I'm doing this under protest."
"Noted," was Coco's clipped reply.
Vale's naval forces were only a pale shadow of their former might before and during the Great War, back when they had been the Royal Navy. Since then, with the steady demilitarization, the Royal Navy's budget and responsibilities had been steadily cut, accelerating as the rising Atlas began shouldering more and more of the burden of the Four Kingdoms' military needs, until it had finally been folded into the Vale Coast Guard some fourteen years ago.
What little military Vale retained focused on the Royal Air Lancers and, to a far lesser extent, on the Royal Army, but now, with the new National Emergency Strike Team, there were talks about reviving the Navy, with some debate as to what would stay with the Coast Guard and what would go to the Navy... and indeed, what to call the Navy, given the distinct lack of a king.
It was that last that seemed like a bit of a bright spot to Captain Skip Stone of the VCGS Ward. Everyone - even the mighty Atlas, who spent more on its military than everyone else put together except maybe Menagerie - tended to shortchange the blue navy. It was a negligence that he had a feeling would be regretted in time.
"Contact, north-northeast," reported the lead sonar tech.
Captain Stone walked up to the man that had spoken. "What have you got?"
"No idea, sir," replied the tech, pointing at his screen. "Active sonar's picking up something big breaking through the thermal layer, though. Warbook can't identify it, but it seems to be nearly a mile long."
"'A mile'?" balked Captain Stone. "There's got to be some mistake. How many of the drones are reading this?"
The other techs chorused out their reports, and Captain Stone cursed. "Their heading is straight for Vale. No way we'll be able to scratch this thing with torpedoes either. Men, reel in our little fishing lure, but keep the drones out for now. Helm, make best possible speed for Cape Suzy. Comms, relay our logs to COMNORTH and tell them what we've found."
With the orders given, Captain Stone walked off the bridge.
"Sir, where are you going?"
"To look overboard!" he called back.
Sure enough, he looked out over the sea and saw an impossibly dark shape moving through the water, just where the sonar said it would be. With that sight, a chill went down his spine. He wasn't a rookie. He'd seen oceangoing Grimm, even fought with a Leviathan before; they didn't give him these chills.
That was no Grimm.
Author's Note 1 (Cyclone):
Nora is too much fun to write sometimes. And Kali is always a joy.
Yes, that was a reference to Grimm Eclipse with the fighting game's proposed battle mode. And yes, that's Nora complaining about not being immune to stun in (the now-defunct) Amity Arena; she's complaining because stun effects in Amity Arena were largely tied to electrical attacks.
Now, some might be wondering: Why Hot Rod? This may seem like an especially unusual choice, given the suggestions we've received for having Ruby interact with Blurr. The answer can be found on TFWiki's page on the Transformers Animated version of Hot Rod/Rodimus Prime.
"To call the commander of Team Athenia a prodigy is an understatement. Though his drill sergeant Kup took him for a turbo-revving punk at first, Hot Rod, the young bot who would one day be called Rodimus Prime, distinguished himself during a live-fire exercise by throwing himself in front of a grenade to save his mentor. From there the higher-ups took special interest in him, and he was accepted into the Autobot Academy a full decade before his boot camp peers. In the Academy he continued to dazzle command, mastering servo-to-servo combat and a wide arrange of weaponry, as well as designing the energy bow that became his signature weapon. Some even began to refer to him as the "chosen one" after seeing him in action, and when he became the youngest Autobot to be assigned his own command, many felt he was on the fast-track to becoming Magnus."
Let's see, a young prodigy and team leader with a reddish color scheme who got into the Academy early and wields a signature weapon he designed himself... sound familiar?
Author's Note 2 (Cody MacArthur Fett):
There's two things during this chapter that should have been explained, but which it was impossible to at this juncture. The first is what was going on with how Team SSCL got that intel, and the second was what was up with that restaurant owner. The second is a bit of a noodle incident by design that ended up not being touched on. The first though… well, think about it. Who are the one group of people in Vale that could have relayed an intel dump from Team FIST to Team SSCL, and what do you think a certain multi-colored member of Team JSPR would react to getting a single whiff of them?
Weiss is a bundle of issues, isn't she? Oh, but they're good reads, aren't they? Bit of a character design note about her, but this is first time we're seeing her in a fire-inspired outfit. We're probably going to be seeing a lot more of those.
We didn't notice this until after we finished, but all the Atlesian segments are in one big block, and all seem to be working towards the same goal. Different ways to that goal though, and not all of them have the same emotional weight. But hey, at least now Scipio's first segment has got a bit of an explanation, and you readers now have another clue to the true identity of Councilor Sylvia. (And before anyone asks: yes, the infiltration scene was supposed to be this whole big thing, but really we were running out of time and writing it wouldn't have added anything to the chapter. Winter did a textbook infiltration, and got the information necessary. Nothing more to show there.)
Another missed opportunity with this chapter was that we couldn't find a place to introduce a Valish police officer who's going to be appearing in the finale and in future volumes. I wanted her to appear in a more laid back atmosphere earlier, but… well, it just didn't work out. So instead she'll have to be introduced by using her superstrength to throw something out of a burger joint while swearing like a sailor, or something.
I think Scipio's rubbing off on me though, there seem to be more and more high-class fancy-type get-togethers showing up in this fic. I'm even starting to dabble into costume porn like he does. It certainly does have an appeal. It's a bit ironic though, considering I wouldn't be caught dead at one of these events… because I'd be running. Parties make me jumpier than a kangaroo on a highway in summer.