Chapter Sixteen: The Not-So-Best Day Ever

When Cardin wondered why they had waited until Professor Goodwitch's combat class in the afternoon to introduce the exchange students, he had concluded that it was probably out of fear for the impression Oobleck, or Gods forbid, Port, would leave on them. As it was, the introductions were ruined by the oscillating equipment in the background that Glynda couldn't turn off. She had to talk over the incessant whining and whirring of motors and gears as she introduced the foreign teams one by one.

"And for our Haven Academy transfer students, first, I would like to introduce Team SSSN, led by Sun Wukong."

The monkey tail behind Sun flopped side to side and slipped across Professor Goodwitch's breasts. Sun turned around and ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry Professor, it has a mind of its own."

"Do that again, and I will have you in detention for the duration of your time with us," Glynda said coldly. "And I shall have a word with Headmaster Lionheart to ensure it follows you home. Is that clear?"

The temperature in the room dropped by ten degrees, but the shit-eating grin on Sun's face didn't even twitch. "I understand Professor, and I apologize for my tail's behavior. I won't let it happen again"

One of Sun's teammates cuffed him on the back of the head as they sat down. Another team took the stage, this one only having three members. It was the woman in the back that caught Cardin's attention. The Haven school uniform seemed to deflect attention away from her charms, flattening the bosom, covering her thighs and shoulders, its deep, rich black fabric making her hair appear a dull dark brown by comparison while the snow-white undershirt gave her skin a fleshy, pink hue, yet her lustrous orange eyes and controlled composure were unmistakable.

"And here is Team CMEN, led by Cinder Fall," Professor Goodwitch said. She glanced down at a clipboard. "I am informed that one of their members, Neo Poltan, was delayed by an unexpected illness. She will arrive once she is well enough to travel."

Cinder's two teammates seated themselves off to the side of the classroom, but Cinder lingered on the stage, scanning the crowd. Their eyes met. She gave him a soft smile as she approached him and sat in the empty seat behind him.

"I was hoping to find you here," she said in a low whisper.

Cardin didn't turn around. He took out his Scroll and pretended to read it while he asked, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Cinder chuckled. It was a warm, rich sound that tickled his ears. "Does it have to be something? Couldn't I simply want to talk to you?"

"Nobody in the company of Dukes just wants to talk."

"Too true." She leaned forward and ran a finger along his shoulder. "I was hoping we could help one another in the upcoming tournament."

Cardin glanced at the seats nearest him, but none of the other students paid them any mind. They were too busy discussing the team up on the stage, or more to the point, the bladed hoverboard one of them stood on.

"We're from opposing schools. Why help out one another?"

"Neither of us care about that. You're just interested in getting rid of a certain contestant, correct?"

Cardin let his eyes wander over to Pyrrha, and he even tilted his head to exaggerate the attention. There was no point in denying it.

"I was also hoping to win the tournament."

"I could help you with that." Her fingers crept up his neck. "Of course, I'm not a nice enough girl to do it just because I think you're cute."

Even as he felt his face flush, he rolled his eyes at Cinder's ploy. He brushed her fingers away as they crept up his chin. "What do you want?"

"Not here. It would be better to discuss it in private. For now, why don't we stay together and talk? I would like to know more about you."

"And I you. Lunch is next period. Our teams can take a table together."

"Too obvious," Cinder said. "Let's have a table for just the two of us. That way, people will draw a different conclusion."

The second advance made him pause. It was plain to him that she was trying to get close to him, but why? Dozens of reasons ran through his mind, but none seemed to fit.

"We should keep our teammates close," Cardin said. "The same table."

"We should sit next to each other."

"Face to face."

"At the end of the table, not the middle. And we enter the cafeteria together."

"We enter separate."

"I haven't been to this school before." Her hand went on his chair, but she refrained from touching him. "I might get lost trying to find your table."

"Fine, but no holding hands."

"We have a deal, then." She leaned back, and her hand left the chair. "What do you think of the other teams?"

"Not much to think," Cardin said. "Haven has fewer teams than usual, and Vacuo is as underwhelming as ever. Atlas should be a different story."

Cinder hummed to herself. "Atlas is too interested in proving its strength. They try to inspire respect and comfort, but all they create is fear."

"There's something to be said for having a large military when the world is overrun with Grimm. Some Councillors have pushed for stepping up the budget, but it keeps drowning in politics."

"You think Atlas is right to have a large military?"

"It seems to be working out for them."

"Would your opinion change if I told you that General Ironwood will be bringing his armies to Vale within a week?"

Cardin turned around. She looked down at him with a sly grin.

"He would have to have the Council's approval."

"He will have it by the end of tomorrow's meeting."

"It's not even on the agenda."

"It will be a last-minute addition." Cinder ran a hand through her hair and looked towards Professor Goodwitch. "They don't want Ozpin interfering."

"Why would the Dukes ever agree to this?"

"The SDC has kindly offered to increase Dust shipments to Vale and lower prices if this country allows Atlesian military control over security on certain matters. They were quite concerned after their last freighter got attacked by the White Fang."

It explained too well why that freighter was unprotected. Throw in Torchwick and the White Fang working under someone's orders, and it made a troubling thought.

"That's a dangerous gamble," Cardin said.

"You can only gain as much as you stand to lose."

Cardin turned back around. "Why are you telling me this?"

Cinder leaned close enough for him to feel her breath on his ear. It felt like he had stuck his head in an oven. "Because I think you're cute."

Professor Goodwitch had gotten through most of the Atlesian teams. The last one she introduced had the same orange-haired girl he saw by the docks the previous evening. He leaned forward for a closer look, but saw nothing remarkable about her, nothing that would suggest that she could split a Bullhead in half with a laser.

"Is there something about her that interests you?" Cinder asked. "You're making me jealous."

"I think she needs to be watched." After a moment's consideration, he said, "I've heard rumors that she has the latest Atlesian technology, something strong enough to cut a Bullhead in half."

"Oh really? I've heard similar rumors, but I haven't been able to put a face to them. May I ask why you gave me such an intriguing nugget of information?"

"Because I think you're cute."

"You're going to make a girl blush."

He glanced back. There wasn't a hint of color on her cheeks, but her eyes gleamed at him with redoubled interest.

Professor Goodwitch cleared her throat, and the background hum of indistinct conversations fell silent, leaving only the sounds of moving machinery.

"Now, I trust that you're all wondering what this is behind me. We've been working hard to develop a new system to hone our students' agility. After all, Aura can only take you so far, and if you keep trading blows with Grimm, you will eventually run out. Now, Mr. Winchester has volunteered to be the first to demonstrate what he can do."

Cardin closed his eyes and swore to himself. He had all but forgotten about the agility machine, and though Blake's exercises had helped, his injuries made it impossible to move quickly.

Every pair of eyes in the room was on him as he stood. The muscles in his chest and thighs protested with dull, burning pangs as the yellowed bruises stretched and bent. His bones were lead bars, his muscles bags of Jell-O, with cement block shoes and a full set of dumbbell weights for his plate mail.

"I don't know how I feel about testing something that you can't even turn off."

He got a handful of chuckles from the room. Glynda motioned him forward with her riding crop and said, "Come on, it's perfectly safe. I had Professor Port test it earlier this morning."

"Is that why he was absent from class?" Ruby asked.

Cardin gestured towards Ruby. "My point exactly. I'd rather not risk an injury so close to the Vytal Festival. Perhaps we should postpone this exercise until such a time you can guarantee that it is safe."

Nora stood up and pointed at him. "Sounds like someone is scared."

Cardin reminded himself to have her die a slow, painful death someday.

Before Cardin could think of a response, Glynda said, "It is quite alright if you don't feel comfortable being the first to go. Perhaps someone else would be willing to show the class how it is done?"

There was a wicked gleam in Professor Goodwitch's eyes that she tried to hide behind her impassive strict-teacher mask. It became all too clear to him that its safety features had been turned off in light of his recent negotiations with Ozpin.

So, Glynda's torture machine, or public ridicule before an international audience?

His eyes drifted away from Nora and Goodwitch, over to Ruby's team. Blake was staring at him, as if waiting for a signal. He thought about giving her one, but his gaze slid over to Yang. He thought she would be delighted, yet she watched him without a smile, arms crossed with an expression that asked him whether he had the balls to go up there.

Blake started up, but Cardin took a step forward.

"I would rather not leave our guests with the impression that the students of Beacon are afraid of a few swinging blocks."

Professor Goodwitch smiled. She raised her baton, and all the machinery ground to a halt. The motors groaned as they struggled against the invisible force holding them back.

"Very well, Mr. Winchester. You may step inside when you are ready."

His legs protested as he climbed each stair. The machines closed in around him, no doubt Professor Goodwitch's doing, as he made his way towards the center. He studied the layout, trying to find a safe spot, but everywhere he looked had ropes ready to snare him, padded bars poised to sweep his ankles or clobber his face, and giant pendulums that could knock him into the stands.

Then, he saw it, a stretch of floor the size of a coffin where two lower bars came within an arm's length of touching each other. As Glynda released the machinery, Cardin dove for it. His back throbbed as he rolled into position, and one of the bars nearly smacked him in the nose, but he made it to safety. The air tumbled around him as bars and ropes whirled harmlessly around him.

A murmur rose in the crowd, just large enough to reach him over the din of machinery. He called out, "Am I doing it right, Professor Goodwitch?"

Laughter rippled through the stands. Glynda looked ready to snap her riding crop in half.

"If you're just going to lie around in there, then you may as well come out. I will find someone more willing to participate."

The machines stopped again. Cardin clambered up to his feet, propping himself on a bar so his legs wouldn't give out. Like a drowning man reaching for air, he rushed towards the safety of the stands.

The machines started moving again before he made it halfway.

Off of blind instinct, Caridn dodged the first few blows. His gut screamed as he doubled over to let a pendulum thrash the air over him, and his arms groaned and popped as they waved to keep him on his feet. His knees buckled with each step, but he pressed forward, struggling inch by inch towards freedom.

Out of nowhere, a rope snagged him by an armpit. After that, the machine had him. It dragged him backwards through the obstacles, pummeling him with each one he had ducked around. A pendulum flipped him up-side-down, and another rope coiled around an ankle. Though his Aura blocked each hit, but bruises underneath made every muffled blow a Yang-quality gut punch.

It wasn't another twenty seconds before Goodwitch made the machines stop. The ropes uncoiled themselves, and he fell twenty feet to the floor, hitting a few obstacles along the way.

"My apologies, Cardin, my riding crop slipped," Professor Goodwitch said as he walked back to the stands. "I am impressed by how you did being caught by surprise like that." In a whisper, she added, "You did a lot better than Professor Port."

He whispered back, "So that's what you're into? Kinky."

Professor Goodwitch turned scarlet. He had a feeling that the only thing that kept him from a year's worth of detentions were Ozpin's orders.

As he sat back down, Cinder whispered, "That was well done, considering your injuries."

"What injuries?" Cardin asked. He glanced down at his arms, but those bruises had already healed over.

"It's no secret what happened last night," Cinder said. "There are many wondering if you sent Blake there so you would have an excuse to stop Torchwick."

He felt his stomach sink as the implications of her comment struck him. Considering that he had been spending time with Weiss, it would seem as though he were doing them a favor by defending the shipment.

"If I was planning to stop Torchwick, I would've gotten Ozpin's help."

"Perhaps," she said. "I think it is clear that it was a coincidence, but that won't stop the rumors."

"What would?" he asked.

"Rumors that you were seeing someone else," she said. "Rumors that you had formed new connections, connections that fall in line with what the larger houses are aiming for."

Cardin's train of thought was interrupted by Goodwitch's dismissal of the class. The students rose and squeezed their way out of the crowded room. As they left, Cinder offered him her hand with a subtle angling of her wrist. Cardin ignored it and led the way.

Russell and Dove appeared out of the crowd. With a few words, he explained the seating arrangements and sent them ahead to secure a table. Cinder's two teammates appeared, and she relayed similar instructions. By the time Cardin and Cinder arrived, both teams were seated together, with two empty seats at the end of the table. They made introductions and examined the table.

The cafeteria portion of the lunch room was closed off. Instead, food was left on large serving platters on the tables. There were giant pots of soup, bowls of pasta, plates stacked with bread, and an army's worth of meats, vegetables, and desserts.

Cardin picked up a whole squash that was in front of his seat. It had an unnaturally long stem that felt like varnished oak beneath his fingers. He gave the squash an experimental tap on the table. It hit the stone with a sharp, solid crack.

"What the hell?" Russell asked, twirling two carrots in his hands. "They're frozen solid and perfectly balanced."

Cardin examined the carrot. The wide end had been hollowed out to adjust the vegetable's balance, and it was ice cold to the touch. He dragged the tip on the table and it left a long scratch.

"What the hell is this baguette?" Sky asked as he held up a loaf of bread the width of his thumb and long enough to poke Cinder from his seat.

"At least the burgers are edible," Cinder's gray-haired teammate said as he bit into a hamburger. "Ketchup's a bit greasy, but I won't complain."

Cinder stretched a rubbery length of spaghetti between her fingers. Before her was a large bowl of celery, frozen solid and notched at one end. She also had a stiff zucchini, curved, about four feet long, and notched at both ends.

Cardin reached for the plate of hamburgers. He sampled the ketchup from a large red squirt bottle and found that it wasn't just greasy, it felt like motor oil. A quick glance across all the tables showed that all the other food was just as inedible. There were coils of sausage with casings too rubbery to bite through, rock-hard loaves in all shapes and sizes, whole rotisserie chickens, and an entire swordfish, head and all, on a bed of ice.

"Is the food always like this?" Cinder asked.

"It isn't." Cardin hefted the squash in his hand. It felt too familiar. He examined a stack of plates and found they were all made of stainless steel. "I think we should leave."

The cry of "Food fight!" echoed across the cafeteria. Within seconds, the whole room had descended into madness. Teams clumped together in ragtag bands, wielding the inedible food items. Apples and watermelons were hurled across the room, and students dueled each other, leek clanging against baguettes, lunch trays deflecting hurled cookies, and students grappling each other, soaked in motor-oil ketchup and smacking each other with drumsticks.

Cinder wasted no time. Within seconds, she had a length of spaghetti strung in the zucchini, and she nocked a celery stick. She fired into the crowd, each stick finding a throat. Wherever her arrows struck, a student fell, gasping for air.

Cardin used the rest of the noodles to tie the metal plates to his chest and arms. It couldn't compare to his own armor, but it kept the worst of the flying debris off of him. The other teammates had tipped a table over and were huddled behind it with their weapons. The green-haired girl flung carrots into the crowd, spearing people in the legs, while the gray-haired guy hurled apples at heads.

"We should get out of here before this gets any worse," Cardin said as he stepped in front of Cinder to ward off a baguette javelin.

"We should wait until the crowd thins out," Cinder said. "If we move now, we'll be surrounded.

He looked down at her as she nocked another arrow. She had no smile on her face, but her eyes flashed each time she let a celery arrow fly.

"Go after RWBY and JNPR," Cardin said. "They're the most dangerous."

"I'm letting them fight among themselves," Cinder said as she brought down another student. "If I attack them, it'll draw attention to us."

Cardin scanned the crowd until he saw a flash of red. Ruby sped across the room with two baguettes smashed together to form a makeshift scythe. Pyrrha sprinted across tables after her, hurling baguette after baguette like spears. Nora had somehow gotten her hands on a long metal pipe, which she had used to spear a frozen watermelon. She swung it like Magnhild, smashing tables and cracking the tiled floor, while Yang danced around the blows. Every time she closed in with her chicken-gauntlets, Nora swung her hammer in a wild sweep that forced Yang back. Blake wielded a long chain of sausage links that Ren fended off with a pair of leeks, while Jaune backpedaled and hid behind a lunch tray as Weiss hounded him with the frozen swordfish.

After another ten minutes, most of the students had collapsed. Nora stood atop a mound of tables holding an armful of soda cans, with the rest of JNPR in fortified positions below her, while team RWBY prepared their assault. As Yang rushed forward, Jaune and Ren hurled watermelons, which she punched apart. Nora threw soda cans, and they burst like grenades as they hit the ground. Undaunted by the assault, Yang sprinted towards Ren and Jaune. She flung both her chickens. Ren dodged both, but Jaune took one in the chest and tumbled to the ground. Nora leapt from the summit and slammed her hammer at Yang.

While the two titans were distracted, Cinder picked off the last of the survivors from afar. Russell and Mercury combed the room together and finished off any stragglers hiding under tables. Within moments, only the four teams remained.

Cinder kept a celery stick nocked, and she aimed at the fight. Her hands twitched, and her aim drifted towards Ruby. She followed the agile red blur for a minute. Her left arm trembled, and her fingers jerked. The celery stick shot through the air with an audible whistle. It found its mark in Ruby's left eye. She fell to the floor, crying out and clutching her eye. Yang backed away from Nora, saw the celery stick, and traced it back to Cinder.

Cardin swore and gripped the squash. Dove, Sky, and Emerald hurled an assortment of foods, from throwing-knife carrots to a pot of soup still steaming hot, but Yang powered through it all. With a wild cry, she flung herself at Cinder. Another celery stick hit her in the forehead, but it only fueled her Semblance.

Just before Yang struck, Cardin stepped in front of Cinder and swung his squash. Yang blocked it with both arms, but the blow flung her back into an overturned table.

"You hit my sister in the eye!" she roared as she clambered onto her feet. "Nobody gets away with that."

Fist blows hammered on his makeshift armor, denting them into bowls. Cardin gave ground step by step, focusing on parrying and dodging blows. His legs, already tired from the dodging exercise, burned with fatigue.

From his right, Cinder lunged forward with a pair of carrots. The pretend blades danced in her hands as she slashed and stabbed at Yang. Though the cuts did little damage, the ferocity of Cinder's assault forced Yang back. Cardin took advantage of the extra space to wind up and land a powerful blow on Yang's stomach.

Yang went to one knee. Her breaths came in ragged gasps as her diaphragm trembled. Cardin stepped forward to finish her off, but a watermelon at the end of a metal pole swung through the space before him, knocking a dented plate off his chest.

"I was hoping I would find you here," Nora said. She helped Yang onto her feet. "You keep the fire-eyes busy. I'll take care of Cardin."

Cinder and Yang proved a match for each other, but even with support from Sky and Dove, Cardin had to dive and roll to avoid Nora's frenzied assault. Tables were smashed to rubble, and food splattered across the cafeteria as Nora pulverized everything in her path. Dove charged in with a baguette, and Nora sent him flying across the cafeteria. Sky poked at her, and his baguette was smashed into croutons.

The hammer swung at Cardin's head. He ducked back and tripped on a lunch tray. When he went down, Nora stepped on top of his leg and raised the hammer over her head.

"Boop!" she said as the hammer fell.

It stopped an inch from his face, held back by an unseen force. He looked up and saw Professor Goodwitch standing at the door.

"What is the meaning of this?" she asked. Her baton wove an intricate pattern, and the rubble shifted on the cafeteria floor. One by one, tables reassembled themselves and formed neat rows, then the grime and shattered remains of food formed a sludgy pile in the center of the room. Unconscious students were laid out before her, and she examined each one.

"Whoever started this is going to have detention until they have gray hair," Glynda said.

"Well," Nora said, "Weiss' hair is already white, so does that mean she's done?"

"You're the one who threw that pie!" Weiss shouted, waving the swordfish in the air. A lunch tray was skewered on the end of it.

Ozpin strolled into the room and examined the wreckage with a smile. "Now Glynda, let the students have their fun. What's the harm in it?"

"Harm?" Glynda echoed in exasperation. "They destroyed the cafeteria!"

"Really? It looks perfectly fine to me."

As Ozpin had pointed out, no trace of the battle remained save for the discarded food, which floating to a dumpster through a window. Glynda growled and stormed out of the room. Ozpin said a few muted words to team RWBY before following after her.

Cardin rolled to his feet and propped himself up with his squash mace. "Why did you shoot her? You should've waited until some of them were taken out."

Cinder looked at her left arm and said, "My hand slipped."

Omake: All Tied Up

"Are you quite sure this is safe?" Professor Port asked as he stood before the gyrating, whirring obstacle course. "You said you can't turn it off."

"It's perfectly fine," Glynda said. "I can stop everything with my baton. I just need someone to test it out and make sure it isn't too easy."

Professor Port chuckled. "Why, if you wanted to do that, you should've asked Professor Oobleck! There's no way such a measly little contraption could pose a challenge to the great and mighty Professor Port."

Glynda affected a pretend pout. "I was hoping to see how you would do in there, but if you think it's not good enough for you, I'll give Bartholomew a call."

Peter raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Why didn't you just say so Glynda? I would be delighted to show you how impressive I am."

Glynda hid a triumphant smile behind her hand and stopped the machines. "Thank you so much. Now step inside, and I'll count to three before releasing them."

Once Professor Port was inside, she counted down and let the machines fly. Peter moved like a cat, leaping over obstacles, darting around ropes and snares, and pirouetting away from giant pendulums.

Glynda watched in disbelief for five minutes as her colleague flowed through the obstacles. Then she flicked her baton. The machines sped up, whining like a deluge of bumblebees, but Professor Port sped up with them. He was a white and brown blur bouncing through the obstacle course.

With an irritated crunch of leather riding crop, Glynda took control of the ropes. It took another five minutes to finally get a loop around one ankle, but once she had him, more ropes coiled around his arms and legs. She dangled him up-side-down in front of her.

"That was excellent!" Professor Port said. "I didn't know you could make it move faster. Now, would you mind letting me down?"

Glynda ran the riding crop along one of his cheeks. "You'll have to beg me for it. Oh, and call me mistress."

"Ah, so you finally fell for the old Port charm, eh? I always knew you had a thing for me."

She cut him off by tightening the ropes. "Beg, and maybe I'll give you a taste." One of the ropes slapped him across the thigh, and he let out a yelp. "Oh, and don't worry, I already called a substitute for your class."