Though the festivities had not yet started in full, shenanigans were already well under way. Several of The Brothers had opened the cask that Yang brought and were drinking from goblets. Yang and Blake were with them. The two were eager to dive into drunkenness. I saw them taking big gulps from the cups, all the while trying to convince Weiss to drink as well. "Do you have a taste for wine, Pyrrha?" I pointed over to the fools across the way to emphasize the question.

"I've been known to drink on occasion,"

"And is this such an occasion?"

"I can't say for sure," Her eyes darted over to Jaune and then back to me, "It's still too early to tell." Her eyes were like mossy boulders on a river: large, round, and pretty; there was a hypnotic quality about them where whenever she looked at someone a new facet of her beauty would become apparent. As such, one could easily find themselves lost in her gaze and discover new things about her to admire all the while.

Jaune, Pyrrha, and I were walking over to where Weiss and the others were when a man began to climb the owl. The young faunus had the tail of a scorpion and it twitched with excitement as he ambled up the owl. He had the lithe frame of a dancer, his back rippling under climb's duress. As he reached the top of the wooden statue he turned to reveal a baroque mask. On his face rested what appeared to be a large bird skull that was polished to a marbly white and accented with red markings that curled away from the beak. He threw off his cloak, it fluttered to the ground, and a few of the women who counted themselves among the brothers scrambled to catch it. "Brothers! Why do we wear the masks of such dark, grisly creatures? Why do we cavort around like the Grimm?" He delivered his oratory with a voice that boomed like the Nevermores, from which his mask was fashioned after. His masked brothers called in response,

"BECAUSE WE ARE WICKED!"

"Yes," The Faunus raised his arms, "We are wicked little things aren't we! Given form for naught but a moment… Here one day and then gone the next. How quickly they forget us!" Cheers could be heard from The Brothers in the crowd. "I've called you here tonight to tell you that my father, the King of Vale, has been murdered. Whatsmore, I know whose bloody hands did drive the blade between his ribs! I beseech thee, my brothers, help me kill the new king and restore my family's honor…" He concluded his speech by leaning backward and falling from the statue. As he fell he swung his body in the air and began to fly. He floated fast and low to the ground at first. Then, he ascended, just so, such that he was barely above our heads. Within arms reach, but just an inch too far. Some of the girls cheered as he passed over them. His brothers hooted and howled with laughter. This was a familiar sight to them, ostensibly. Though it seemed the magic still remained.

He continued on like that for quite some time before landing and when he did he was flocked by The Brothers. I came away from the whole thing confused. "There hasn't been a king in Vale for a long time. What the hell is he talking about?" I looked to Pyrrha for answers

"The Brothers Grimm are performers. They insist on giving a theme to every function they host. The theme for tonight was taken from a play by William Inkwell, I heard they planned on acting out parts of it throughout the night," She told me

"I take it that was the intro?"

"So it seems."

"My god… How does anyone tolerate being around these people?"

"They certainly have their eccentricities, that's for sure. They aren't all bad though. Give it time. I'm sure you'll come to enjoy their company."

"Oh no, Pyrrha. Don't tell me they've gotten to you as well!"

"I don't have any plans on joining The Brothers if that's what you're asking," She laughed, "When I said 'you' I really did mean you, Ruby Rose…"

"Has anyone ever told you there's something really ominous about the way you say people's names?" I asked. Jaune immediately leaned in to say,

"Yes! I tell her that all the time, but she just keeps doing it!"

"He's exaggerating," She shushed him with her pointer finger, "You know, the boy who just spoke on the statue earlier was asking about your sister."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, he said something about wanting to see her silver eyes. I'm not entirely clear on what that means, but I think you might become an aunt in the near future." She said, as my heart sank.

"I have to go," I waved goodbye to my friends and shot away with my semblance. Becoming a red blur, I made my way through the crowd which had become rather raucous. The introductory speech to the play must have been the signal to start drinking. Oh, and they were most certainly drinking. I saw one boy being dipped in and out of a barrel of wine like a prawn in tartar sauce. Once I had found Yang and the others I rushed behind them. Rose petals hung in the air around me and flittered to the ground as I came to a stop. One had found its way into Yang's hair. I took it out. Before I could say anything she turned to greet me,

"Oh, there goes my dear little sister! My sweet, reliable, and honest little Ruru! I love you so, so much. I hope you know that," She hugged me, obviously drunk. I had become annoyed at the increasingly diminutive nicknames she managed to conjure up.

"We need to talk," I told her. Her hug tightened into something like a headlock.

"Fine! But first, you have to tell me that you know that you mean the world to me."

"Yang!"

"I'm not asking for much! Just say it and we can get to whatever it is you wanted to talk about,"

"Goddammit!" I screeched and used my semblance to engulf her in the same gale of rose petals that had surrounded me moments prior. Whilst in the storm, which had grown much larger than anticipated, I flew us high and turned my body. Such that my back, which Yang was hanging from, was facing the ground. Then, I flew us downwards. We crashed with great force against the ground. The petals scattered, littering the floor. I got up. Yang didn't. "Could you take something seriously for once?" I pointed down at her, "listen to me!"

"Fucking hell…" Yang groaned, stumbling to her feet. Dirt clung to her pants and as she stood up she took off her boots to shake the rose petals out, "Throw me harder why don't you…"

"I will if you keep acting like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like a fool," I gestured to the crowd around us before moving closer to Yang. Whispering in her ear, I told her, "We are in danger and we need to leave."

"No, we're fine and you NEED to calm down," she stressed

"No, no, no you're not listening," I said, still whispering, "Are you even sober enough to remember the boy who spoke not two minutes prior? Pyrrha told me that he wanted to see you because he thinks you have silver eyes. And trust me my dear, drunk sister, when I say that you do not have silver eyes. He mistook you for me, he has the two of us confused."

"Oh. This is about a boy." Her eyes flashed red and the petals still left in her hair started to burn. "I hope, for your sake, that you didn't throw me to the ground like that over something so stupid. I love you, more than you could ever know, but do not test me," I could feel the intense heat coming from her body.

"This is about much more than that. Think about it. We're in the middle of the woods, unarmed, surrounded by criminals that we don't know, and one of them is looking for us. You don't see a problem with that? I want to get as far away from the man in the Nevermore mask as possible," I looked over to Weiss, who had been watching us quarrel. Despite her not being directly involved I still worried for her safety, and Blake's too. If the Brothers meant to do us harm, then what would they do to Blake and Weiss once they found out that they were associated with us?

"Look," she told me, "I've known Tyrian for years. He was one of the first friends I made when I came to Beacon. You may not like the company he keeps, but he's a good person at heart."

"How can you say that about a man who leads a troupe of outlaws? They break the laws of this republic on a regular basis. Laws which you and I, as hunters, are honor bound to uphold. You swore an oath-"

"I am not a hunter! None of us are! We aren't done with our training yet," She started to walk away from me and yelled, "I haven't sworn an oath to jack-fucking-shit!"

"Where are you going?" Weiss asked in extreme confusion, having not heard the conversation up until then.

"I need a drink," Yang shouted. How frustrating. Very, very frustrating. No words could reach her and no force could move her. Yang huffed off to god-knows-where, having heard not a word of what I said. I shuffled over to Weiss to explain what had just happened. Part way through my explanation Blake managed to slink around to where we were. She sipped from a small bottle of rice wine, probably fermented in Mistral or some other southern nation.

"I understand your concerns, Ruby," Blake trailed, "In a world where monsters lurk in each and every shadow, paranoia is a reasonable baseline state of being. Tyrian is suspicious no matter how you look at it. I've been watching him and the rest of The Brothers carefully, they're up to something." It was a relief to find someone else who understood how I was feeling.

"What can you tell us, Blake?" I asked

"How much do you know about the play they've used for theming tonight?"

"I never read it."

"Well, if you had, then you would know that the play ends with most of the cast dying. The new king, his queen, and the disgraced son of the former king all die. Each one of them gets burned alive by a massive fire that swallows the king's castle. The fire was, of course, started by the son of the former king in an attempt to take the life of his uncle who wrongfully took the throne," She sipped from her bottle of rice wine, "The interesting thing though, is that no one truly knows who killed the prince's father. Indeed, I doubt even Inkwell himself had an answer for that. You see, the only clue that we, the audience, are given about who killed the king is delivered to us through the king's ghost. Think for a second. How many ghosts have you seen in your life?"

"You're saying the prince was mad?"

"That's a common interpretation, yes. And our dear friend Tyrian seems to have assumed the role of the mad prince. I do wonder… How many will he kill in his doomed quest for vengeance? 10? 20? The possibilities are endless…" She folded her fingers around the bottle and looked down as she paced, grimmly and slow.

"That's the dumbest thing I've heard all night. I wish you would stop talking stupid crap, Blake," Weiss said. She had been drinking it seemed. Weiss's face was flush and her words seemed far less considered than usual. I had no idea what had taken place prior to then, what Weiss may have said to her before, but Blake's patience had clearly been worn thin. As a Faunus, Blake was often the subject of ridicule and undue suspicion. Her people were all partly animals. Some had horns that grew out of their heads, others had lower bodies like that of a fish, and some Faunus, like Blake, were lucky enough to get away having only a minor animal trait. She had a pair of fluffy cat ears that would often betray her stern face and give insight into how she really felt. At that time, when Weiss was insulting her, her ears were pointed back.

"Anyway, back to what I was saying-" Blake began, before Weiss interrupted.

"I'm talking to you, you Mutt!"

"Yes, and I'm not talking to you. This isn't a conversation, it's you whinging. I'm not gonna listen to you whinging. Understand?"

"Excuse me? Who do you think you're talking to? I will not take that kind of disrespect from a mangy dog like you!"

"I would be careful if I were you; dogs have a bad habit of biting children who don't know better," Blake hissed. There was a long silence. It was like a duel, save for the pistols being exchanged for words. I didn't know what to do or what to say. By then, it was only a matter of who would take aim first. Who would be the first to align their sights with the foe's heart? Foe? No, that's not right. We were a team. We were supposed to work together. Though, in that moment, I could feel that all begin to come apart. Whatever fragile peace we had brokered had fallen apart. Whenever the social contract was broken, whenever people began to lose face, that was when they spoke words that killed. "Those are fighting words," Weiss stepped toward Blake.

"Don't," Blake ordered.

"Or what?" Weiss continued on like that, but Blake just kept staring at her, "you and our dear leader have let your minds wander off into the hills on some bizarre, paranoid fantasy and you expect me to just shut my mouth and go along with it? I'd sooner die than be a part of such foolishness. So shut your mouth! And stop filling her head with boogeymen!" Weiss stepped towards Blake again.

"I warned you… don't." Blake warned. There was a certain finality in that last warning that scared Weiss. Blake's words constituted a knife which cut the tension in the air and brought about a resolution. Not wanting to lose her head, Weiss backed away. First one step, then two, and finally a proper stride. She walked backwards for at least 15 paces. All the while she faced Blake. Blake began to breathe deeply. In and out the air flowed from her lungs. In a few seconds, the subtle shaking that had come about her body had ceased and she decided to ask Weiss a question before she went home, "Who gave you all this venom, girl? Why are you like this?" She had to know for sure. Weiss wasn't the kindest person on our team by any means, but her outburst tonight was especially heinous. Blake was confused to say the least and I was right there with her. What made Weiss snap all of the sudden? The wine? The Brothers? Please, for all of our sake, just say something nice.

"Burn in hell," Weiss replied, "Choke on the smoke and ash."

"Think I've had about as much of you as I can take for today," Blake gestured for Weiss to go away and she soon made herself scarce. Blake squatted on the ground and wrapped her hands on her head. I went to place my hand on hers with trepidation. She knew that I was close with Weiss in spite of her flaws, that I saw the potential for her to be more than just her prejudices. It made me afraid that she would take Weiss's words as being tinged with my particular shade of red, that she would think that I approved of Weiss's actions. As I moved closer, I expected my hand to be knocked away or for my wrist to be broken. However, I was met with a pleasant surprise.

Blake clasped my hand in hers. I could feel the calluses on her palms at the base of each finger. I could feel the cuts that had yet to heal. I could feel all of the warm, tinder skin in between too. Through the shame of my own inaction I managed to speak, "I'm sorry I let things escalate that far. I was scared and didn't know what to say, it was like-"

"It doesn't matter. We can get Yang back without her help. The Weiss problem can be solved another day, don't you think?" Blake asked and I nodded in agreement. I asked her to keep an eye on Tyrian while I went to retrieve the others. Once everyone was rounded up I planned to fly into the air and come back down leaving behind a cloud of rose petals. That would be the signal for team RWBY to leave.