written in the stars
He is getting sick of these messages. He is not a child playing a scavenger hunt- this is real. I don't know if they think they're being fucking funny, he fumes silently as he cuts through another roaring Sabyr before it can even fully materialize out of the rift from which it appears, but they can take their goddamned clues and shove them-
"Keep going, Songbird," Clover says softly, cutting through Qrow's murderous thoughts. "We're almost there. You're doing great. We've just gotta keep going." Clover sounds absolutely exhausted, having run out of fuel to complain and gripe a while earlier.
…I know. Qrow sighs, pushing his hair back out of his eyes and picking up speed down the hallway once again. Unfortunately, it is almost entirely black, giving him nothing to focus on but his darkening thoughts. I just- if they're responsible for everything, that means that they're responsible for the Grimm. His mind flashes back to that putrid, wretched dragon, the statue brought to life to haunt their journey to Atlas. They wanted to use literal demons to do…
What, exactly?
He cannot comprehend that final piece, and it is driving him mad.
He has not been able to feel settled ever since the most recent message. At the heart of the library archives through which he had been cutting, Qrow had found another terminal, the private message for him waiting within the cause of his bitterness now. James' voice had sounded oddly saccharine, oddly friendly- the voice of a politician, someone trying to get their way. "You have every right to be angry, Qrow. I can see it on your face from the cameras, but I can't do much about it."
Qrow's response had been to shoot the nearest security cameras in the room. It wasn't productive, but it had felt good, at least.
"The Grimm- those monsters, you know- they don't answer to us anymore. They don't really answer to anyone. We thought that maybe, just maybe, we could stop them without the Harbinger, but…" and James had chuckled, as if any of this is something to laugh at, "you can see how well that's gone. I suppose you're not about to hand it over, are you?"
Qrow's response had been simple and sweet, left in the comments section of that message.
'You'd still have it if you hadn't attacked me. Why'd you do it, Jimmy? –Q.'
"Good question," Clover had murmured. "C'mon, Qrow. Let's go."
Firing off one more shot for good measure hadn't been enough to distract Qrow from the chaos around them, however, leaving him fuming until now- until he arrives halfway through the archives, leaping into a small office at the end of that dark corridor, desperate for a reprieve from the horror surrounding his every step.
The window showcasing the hallway paints a grim image of what the archives had likely once been- beautiful, wall-to-wall screens providing those with access every piece of information their hearts could have ever desired. This is the knowledge center of Remnant, after all. Everyone's data is likely stored on these servers. Every string of code which defines this place which he has grown to love and cherish is in these few floors.
And every single piece of that is now in the process of being processed completely, and he doesn't know how to save it.
Qrow does not want to say goodbye to this world. He doesn't think he'll have a choice, though.
He is tired of not having a choice. My vote… used to mean something.
Then, his brain seems to fog, exhausted causing him to stray. …did it ever mean anything?
In this small office, a small door catches his eye. It is a washroom- unisex, accessible, likely put there for any researchers who needed a break. It is in that moment that he realizes just how parched he is, just how much his body would enjoy a pause. So, he leans the Harbinger against the table just outside the door and opens it, tapping the clock face before he leaves to get Clover's attention.
"Goddammit, Qrow," he hears Clover groan as he steps into the small washroom on his own, "c'mon, just take me with you." Qrow snorts as he takes a drink of water from cupped hands, proceeding to wash his face, the sound clearly loud enough to pass through the door- it only spurs Clover on further, the younger crying out, "What, I don't even get to embarrass you like this now? It's not like there's anything I haven't seen before. Qrow, take me with you-"
And the comments continue, silly and completely out of touch with the tone of what Qrow is currently wrestling with. Yet, Qrow does not mind in the slightest- Clover's voice sounds truly lighter than it has all night, as he takes a few minutes to breathe and wash his face and drink some more water, having Clover's teasing voice echo through the door is finally enough to quell some of the fear and rage that has been haunting him since first hearing James' voice. For this brief moment, this idiocy almost makes him feel like everything is going to be okay- almost.