As the sun rose over Kuo Kuana, within the shack known to the locals as Driftwood, a young Faunus had just awoken, a mild headache from falling backwards unto wooden floors. Ilia was unsure over how she ended up sleeping on the cold hard wood, nor could she recall events that led up to it. Not all at once, it came to her in fragments; pieces. Though, once she had a recollection of the events, her mind was flooded with a great deal of emotions. The two more pressing matters were her retaliation against the literal head of the White Fang, and perhaps the more odd and frightening of all; Summer could talk. It was unclear when Ilia began referring to the doll but the name Jaune gave it, but rest assured, that issue was dwarfed in the face of the issue at hand. Was he really passed out, or was this doll truly able to speak on its own? If so, wouldn't that mean that it had conscious as well? A great many more questions began swarming in her head. Though, as she took notice of her surroundings, she found herself, not actually on the wooden floor she passed out on, but on a bed. And as her eyes drifted to the apparent soft snores beside her, she was met with the sleeping blond. She had to do a double take, to make sure what she was seeing was indeed truth; she had slept, seemingly the whole night, beside the blond. Although, what caught her undivided attention almost in an instant, was the little doll sitting on his chest, it faced the sleeping blond.

For the moment, there was no movement at all, nor was there sound. She didn't know what to say, at least nothing that wouldn't have her feeling as though she were insane for believing a doll could actually speak.

"Did you...sleep well...?"

...then again, what did sanity mean at this point? After all, the blond did poison the White Fang leader, as well as the little 'escort' she brought with her. Not to mention, the fact that Jaune could bring these contraptions to life.

"Ilia?" The Faunus snapped out of her sudden panicked mindset, her eyes fixed on the door that was now facing her, its eyes, unmoving, staring directly at her. "Did you...sleep well...?" Her voice, it sounded like a woman. Not a girl, a full grown woman's voice. Feeling light-headed for the second time, Ilia felt as if she would faint again, but, what kept her from doing so was the calm feeling she had from the doll's stare, when on normal occasions she'd usually have a sense of dread whenever she felt Summer's eyes on her.

While she still couldn't respond vocally, Ilia nodded, cautiously. The doll didn't react to her response for a moment, instead, it stayed quiet for a few seconds before letting out an audible sigh before turning her attention back to the blond. "Good..." for a second, Ilia had to do a double take, wondering if she was really having a conversation with a toy. Sighing heavily. She turned around and slammed her head against the wall. Thinking she'd been asleep the whole time. The pain, however, said otherwise. And the endless stare from the doll only negated what she already feared. "...i have...no words..." it replied dryly.

And it would appear she was indeed having a conversation with a doll.

"...You're odd..." A painfully clear example of pot calling the kettle black. "...all the...same...thank you..." Although, the sudden show of gratitude put her off slightly.

"F-f-for?" Ilia had found her voice, if only for this one simple word. Summer kept her eyes on Jaune before turning back to Ilia.

"For keep...ing him...alive..." a faint gasped escaped the doll's shell as her head turned quickly to Jaune. "He's...waking...up..." Her speech had reverted to one word at a time, was this cause of the blond waking?

Very slowly, Jaune stirred, only moments later his eyes had finally opened. With a low groan, he attempted to rise up, only for a wooden hand to press against his forehead and push him back down. "No...stay...down..." Summer's tone had shifted, if that could be believed.

The blond's initial response was a low grumble before attempting to rise again. "I'm fine, just needed a nap." Only for Summer to once again force him back down. For a small doll, she was pretty strong, that or Jaune was really weak.

"Stay...down...you...over...did...it...again..." Her tone was almost mirroring that of a scolding mother, in a way, it somewhat unnerved Ilia to see the doll express such care towards him. Not for that fact that it cared for him, but for the simple fact that if COULD care.

"I told you, and that old crow, I can handle my-" his voice came to a grinding halt as he quickly took notice of his current employee beside him. His were wide with shock, momentarily, before a faint awkward grin appeared as his eyes drifted away. "Oh...fuck." He spat, almost instantly. Hovering in front of him was one of his biggest secrets, and beside him, in his own bed mind you, was his former bully turned employee. The same, one might add, was a part of the terrorist organization; White Fang. The same group that had members actively seeking to put him down, and with his recent stunt with their leader, would place him amongst the top priority hits for the most devout of members. And by that, he referred mostly to Taurus.

"Language." Summer reprimanded him.

Why she was speaking in front of Ilia, Jaune didn't know, Summer never did so before, hell she went eerily quiet whenever Qrow was around. Did it slip? Did Ilia catch summer speaking...but then, if he was knocked out, who would she be speaking to? And perhaps more importantly; why were they in the same bed?

Through with asking himself questions he'd never get an answer to, he instead submitted to where he lay and turned to his employee. Whether or not the two were friends was debatable, to put it mildly. Yes, they still didn't see eye to eye on the subject of what the Faunus should do to reach equality, but for the most part they understood where the anger and frustration comes from. Although, their opinions parted ways in terms of how equality could be obtained. Regardless of their opinions, the fact of the matter remained, Ilia know of Summer, meaning Jaune would either have to convince her to keep quiet, or eliminate the risk of discovery. After all, he was the last Reaver in possibly all of Remnant, knowing Atlas' history with his people; he'd be an immediate target. Prepared for whatever scenario, from within the sheets, Jaune wiggled his fingers as blue strings stretched out.

Ilia could hear the faint sounds of clanking wood, her gears cranked into overtime as she could guess what was moving about downstairs.

"So..." The blond started. "You know?" That was less a question. But, to be fair to Ilia, Jaune didn't exactly hide what he was, at all. But then, very little was known of Reavers and their 'unique' abilities. Or rather, very little was share with the public. Either way, if she reported back to her superiors of him being a Reaver, then by all means her little outburst might be forgiven. But then, that was a very little 'might' as these terrorists aren't exactly the type to so easily forgive hostility, let alone treason.

As for the young Faunus, the gears clicked, not instantly, but rather in by connecting the proverbial dots together. Neither human nor Faunus, a refugee from an apparent massacre, and his arrival coincided with a certain event not too long ago. Though, with what little was shared, she couldn't exactly determine what it was about this blond or his people that made them targets. Adding to it, her eyes widened ever so when she realized the last bastion of his people was overrun with Grimm, and she delivered that painful news to him the day prior. She didn't know, and yet she felt a tangent of guilt. Ilia came to the realization; not only was Jaune an outcast to the civil world, but he was the last of his kind. Why it was that the kingdoms referred to Reavers as separate from humans and Faunus, but as it stood, the blond was the last.

"Yea..." She muttered, her eyes drifting away. "So, you're..." Ilia couldn't bring herself to say the words.

"A Reaver." He confirmed, his eyes focused on the ceiling.

The two remained quiet for what seemed like hours. Only the mild clanking twiddling wooden fingers echoed in the room. Summer found it best to let these two talk this over at their own pace. Though, it took much of her willpower not to get involved. She didn't trust Ilia, not by a long shot, but she wasn't ungrateful. After all, she did go against her leader to save him. And yet, the question remained; why?

-later that day-

After a rather awkward morning of silence, Ilia went about her shift at the shop, keeping tabs on the items in stock, orders being picked up that day, and deliveries she would need to make that very week. Her boss had left for his last shift at Ai Laau's, though only doing so after explaining briefly that he'd be working from home more now that he had her on board. This meant the deliveries and work would increase, but then that also meant her pay would increase. And if the amounting items in her room were of any consideration, she was being paid well for her work, and she enjoyed the lax afternoons she had after work. But, all of that seemed to be diminishing rather quickly. No doubt after her stunt, once her CO was made aware, she'd be branded a traitor to the cause. A cause even she was beginning to have second thoughts over. And to add on to the stress, her boss apparently found it wise to poison the leader of the Fang, knock out her armed escort, and openly reject and defy their cause. Of all the stupid things one could do, calling out an extremist group in their native homeland was just begging for messy removal, especially now that they knew he wasn't a Faunus...

And therein lay another revelation; Jaune was a Reaver. From what she read, what little was recorded of their kind; Reavers weren't any different from Faunus or human in appearance, but their people were still branded as a separate race all the same. Their people were outcasted from society long ago, before the founding of the kingdoms, if that could be believed. Their kind practiced something forbidden, taboo, from then and now no city would allow them entry, no village would harbor their kind. The pariah race of Remnant, equally hated, feared, and shunned by the other two. What set them apart was the consistency of tattoos among the tribes, given to their members after they'd reached a certain age. The Valen and Vacuo tribes held more to symmetrical and often a mix of spiral and cubic markings on their bodies. But the Mistral tribes, theirs held solely to spiral markings, and often they'd brandish alongside the spirals oddly shaped markings. Though, they were mostly Vs, I, and a few more that she couldn't exactly understand. In some odd way, they almost looked like claw marks. Perhaps symbols for things only their members would know.

She couldn't answer without appearing to be speculating, and neither could the book she got the information from. Still, Jaune was silent the whole time. Summer didn't go limp when around her anymore, but that only made being near her all the more creepy. The sight of a moving doll was bad enough, but a sentient one that stayed closer to her puppeteer was nothing less than jarring.

Had she anywhere else to go, Ilia would've left as soon as she heard summer's voice. But then, where could she go that the Fang wouldn't find her? With Jaune, they somewhat feared him, if not were cautious of him. And now with him being discovered as a Reaver, and quite possibly the last one, he'd become a prime candidate for recruitment. Or a prized testing subject. Either way, his calm and peacefully life was about to hit the fan soon enough. And for the Faunus employee, she'd have to make a decision. Whether she liked it or not; she was caught up in this mess as well. If she sided with the Fang, she'd be seen forever as the runt that threatened the leader, hell, she might even be used as cannon fodder at some point.

And if she stuck with the blond, she'd be forever wandering Remnant because there was no way in hell the Fang would let her live after her treason. Not to mention the other kingdoms would eventually find out about a Reaver on the run from the White Fang, those kingdoms would either offer him a place amongst their ranks, or finish the job and wipe out the last of the Reavers from Remnant.

In either case, it would be quite the adventure, should she chose the latter. It was appealing, and perhaps she'd learn more of what Jaune's power was. Tempting it was, but not exactly one with a peaceful ending, that much she was sure of.

"Excuse me." Without even hearing the bell, ilia's eyes shot open. Her head snapped to the source of the voice, her vision caught sight a young woman, possibly late teens, tanned skin, brown hair and eyes, and a small mole just under her left eye. Her body was nearly cloaked, but she could see armor underneath. A huntress, if Ilia had to guess. But it mattered little to her so she payed it no mind.

"Hi, welcome to Driftwood, how may I help you?" Even with the occurring events, Ilia still had a job to do, and she did it the best she could. Hell, better than the blond, she would bet.

"I had an order placed with Jaune. Is he here by chance?" And that was where her eye twitched, and a small semblance of annoyance ticked in. Yes, Ilia did her job well, and yes people were more accustomed to interacting with the blond, it was his business after all. But to see all these strangers, of all the folks who come in she was by far the first to refer to him by his first name, rather than by Mr. Belladonna as would be appropriate, it irked her.

"I'm sorry, he's currently out at the moment, but I'm more than happy to be of assistance. Under what name did you file the order?" The woman seemed hesitant to deal with the young Faunus, but she didn't pay it any mind. If this woman didn't want to do business, then she could just come back when the blonde as around. Or not.

With a soft sigh, the woman responded. "Fall."

Heading to the back, Ilia easily found the order, much like she found Qrow's, as it was placed in a location where she'd easily find it. Though, the box itself was rather large. Bracing herself for what she assumed would be a heavy carry, she was surprised to find it much lighter than expected. Granted, it still had weight to it, but nonetheless she found herself easily bringing up to the counter. Taking a peek inside, she noticed an armor set matching her color scheme.

Huntress indeed.

"Alrighty then..." she retrieved the receipt and listed off the contents. "Custom made greaves, right shoulder pauldron, a single golden bracer, and a custom made corset." That last bit caught the young Faunus by surprise. "Didn't knew he could sew..." taking a closer look, she noticed an emblem for a local tailor shop nearby. "Oh, never mind." she muttered. Though, when she looked up, the woman almost seemed disappointed, as if there was something missing from the list, taking a glance back to the receipt, she noticed an item marked 'special order'. As she looked further into the crate, she noticed a familiar book, laying idly for her. With a deadpanned expression, Ilia retrieved it whilst checking off the last item from the receipt, all the while earning a major blush from the huntress once she saw the item in the clerk's hand. "And one special ordered copy of Ninja's of Love V1 and the author's prequel addition." Thankfully, there weren't other customers around, so the embarrassment wasn't as full on as it could've been. But to ease the girl's uneasiness over her purchase of a smutty novel. "Huh, that makes two folks that ordered this so far. Might just give this a read myself...when I'm older of course." Ilia clarified while placing the book back in the box and handing it to the huntress.

"It's really not all smut, it has a good plot to it." She assured the clerk, to which ilia's smile widened.

"I'm sure it is ma'am. The total is 520 lien." That was indeed pricy, but, custom made armor was always so costly, and judging by the lightweight pieces in the box, this huntress would have an agile set on her. Though, and this was something she was sure the woman wouldn't admit; the book was probably the most expensive of the items in the box.

Once being payed, before leaving the shop, the woman turned to the clerk with a faint smile. "Please say hi to Jaune for me. Or rather, tell him I'll be back tomorrow." And with that, she left with her order. Leaving Ilia to halfheartedly wave back, unaware of her fist tightening beneath the counter. Once the door closed, she sighed and slumped on a small chair nearby. The day couldn't go fast enough.

Glancing to the receipt, she took note of the woman's name; Amber. Fitting, in a way. Though, she found it odd that Jaune knew an actual huntress. As she was sorting the receipt with the other files, her brow furrowed at the sight of her name being already within the recorded files. Feeling her fingers itch inside, she retrieved the past orders. Taking into account the time lapses from her apparent visits to Driftwood, being almost once every two or three month occurrence and the orders were often small. This recent one was perhaps the largest order placed by this woman. Placing the receipts back in the folder, she closed the drawers and resumed her ever silent time as the clerk of this little shop by the pier.

And so her day remained uneventful once again. Though, after Jaune arrived, he almost complete ignored her as he walked to the forge and began working on something, just like he had been doing or the last few days. Only when he took the afternoon shift did he acknowledge her, but even then, it wasn't so much with words but with a simple nod.

Their lifestyle had changed. It was almost as if they were kids again, with Jaune saying little to nothing and ignoring her. And for some strange reason, it bothered her to angreat degree. Her efforts at reconciliation, seemingly crumbling with each passing second the two spent in each other's present. Only this time, she couldn't go to Blake for help.

As Ilia sat on the couch, watching whatever program was on, she heard a pair of footsteps approach her, her heart sped up a bit as she knew who was behind her. It was her boss. What he wanted, she could only guess. And judging by the silent treatment he'd been giving her since the morning, she assumed he was about ready to fire her now. Though, the object in his hand said otherwise.

With the awkward tension he still sat on the other end of the couch, she peeked his way and noticed in his hands what looked to be a miniature rapier. He kept inspecting it for a good few minutes before his head rose up, clearing his throat before eventually breaking the silence between them.

"Qolaas." There was another moment of silence before the blond clarified the sudden sputtered name. "That was my name...in my tribe. Jaune was a name I picked up from a traveling merchant." Ilia was at a loss for words, she didn't think the blond would be so open to tell her about his past, let alone his name. Still, to hear what his original name was, it left her with an abundance of questions. Though, she waited to see what he'd say next. "The kingdoms called my tribe 'Orleans', they named all our tribes in their language so as to easily keep track of us. Apparently our names were too long and hard for their tastes."

She stifled a faint giggle, earning a faint chuckle from the blond. Immature the humor was, but humor it was still.

"I heard it too." He assured, playfully. This eased the tension ever so, and it helped more for Ilia that the blond was showing his trust in her. More so for what he was about to do next. He handed the weapon in his hand over to her, gesturing her to take it. When she did, she found it light, easily agile, and apparently a whip. She could only imagine what customer would order this. "It's yours." Oh how she felt like this was some kind of sick joke. "I was tampering around, messing with some materials Qrow brought me...after what happened yesterday, I think you'd put it to better use than I ever could." Now, she was at a loss for words. Why he would make her a weapon was beyond her, but she was indeed grateful. "If you want, take the day off tomorrow and test it out, I'll take over for the day."

Frozen in place, the Faunus pictured a certain brown haired woman coming by to see him. It didn't even look like she just came to shop; rather, she seemed more interested in seeing him. How old exactly was she? No way was she still in her teens, a young face maybe, but she was definitely not under 20. Or, at least that's what her mind kept telling her. She could only picture what that woman would be doing the following day, seeing Jaune at the counter. Her face seemingly lighting up, waltzing up and striking an awfully long conversation with him. And with rarely any costumers, she'd have his attention all to herself. Not to mention, if a discussion over the book she bought came up...oh how the authorities would have a field day with her.

Her brows furrowed yet again, her hands gripped the weapon tightly as she imagined that woman showing her face in the shop again. As she had seemingly always done. '...thirsty bitc...'

"What?"

Ilia's eyes shot wide open as she realized she spoke those words aloud. 'Shit'

"Language." Summer reprimanded sitting in the middle of the couch, helping Ilia realize she was speaking aloud again.

The tension had become ever more awkward, with the only sounds being those of the tv and the Faunus girl inspecting her weapon. The occasionally wooden clanking from Summer as she seemed to be rocking her body side-to-side to the rhythm of the music being played on the tv.

"A girl came looking for you." As with most things, Ilia was never one to beat around the bush, but rather to get straight to the point. Jaune's eyes glanced faintly towards her, his mind wandering what was so significant about this information. Though, it didn't take long for him to realize who would be arriving that day. His eyes widened for a moment before sighing, tiredly.

"Right, forgot she was coming over. She's not exactly keen on socializing, only reason she talks to me is cause our dusty old Qrow recommended me to her." Jaune commented. "Was there a problem?"

"N-no. She was quiet mostly...until I brought up the second package...the book..." this earned a chuckle from the blond, immediately recognizing the piece of literature apparently rising in popularity recently. "In a way, she tried to convince me it wasn't just smut. Couldn't fool me."

"And how exactly would you know about the smut?" And just like that, his teasing face came back.

"I read it." She admitted, having no intention on being subtle of reading a book no intended for her age group. "...partially..." The two shared a mild chuckle before their attentions were back on the tv. "Thanks, by the way." Ilia was grateful for the weapon, it would definitely be a necessity in the coming days. Although, she couldn't help but feel unnerved if she skipped out on work. Still, she couldn't deny the eagerness of trying put her new weapon. But then, it also came with an itching question. "If I can ask; why?" There was no need for explanation, he knew what she wanted to discuss, as it was something he too wanted to settle. Though, depending on how their conversation ended would determine whether he gained an ally, or just armed an enemy.

"Your little act yesterday won't be forgotten, or easily forgiven by the Fang. And seeing as how we're friends, I'm giving you the tools to stay alive. Or would you rather I make something else?" He asked, his eyes drifting to her as he finished his sentence.

For a moment, she thought on it. He'd given her a whip, not exactly a practical weapon, but then, it was better than a rustic dagger.

"No." She muttered. "I like it. And i will test it out, but not tomorrow. I got work." The boy cocked an eyebrow, while Summer's head snapped between the two. Her body rose up, seemingly glaring at the blond.

"I said you could have the day off." He remained her, to which she grinned and glanced back to the tv.

"And I choose to stay in the air conditioned shop and work. Besides, 'friend', someone's gotta help you run the shop." She responded, fiddling with her new weapon, activating something that made the whip straightened, giving it the look of a short rapier. "Especially when you can't use the other puppets right now." She mumbled, her attention was now focused on the dust chambers, which all three were filled with yellow dust, possibly electric. "By the way, how do you do that? With the puppet's. Semblance?"

Before getting a chance to respond, Jaune's scroll rang. The sudden ringtone, accompanying with it a vibrating sensation in his pants, the blond jumped a little as he retrieved the device. Once checking the Id, a small smile formed on his lips as he answered the call. The face on the line was one Ilia could swear she'd seen before, but chose not to say anything. Yet.

As the call patched through, the blond waved awkwardly before muttering. "Hey mom, how's it going?" So that was his mother? Strange, Ilia didn't remember the woman having white hair. But then, dying ones hair wasn't uncommon either.

"I'm fine, sweetie, just busy is all. My boss has me running rampant with errands, I finally managed to get a bit of peace and quiet...or at least I thought I did. Wanna know what happened?" Her tone was shifting. Both could sense it, and even Summer was effected as she floated away, hiding behind the back of the couch. As Jaune was about to answer she continued. "I get a call from a little crow that my baby boy is overdoing it...again!" Her voice rose, albeit faintly. But even so, the sheer weight of her tone carried with it authority, and it resonated in the two. Even though Ilia was not a part of this conversation, she felt as if in some way Jaune's mom was yelling at her too.

"Fucking Branwen..." Jaune mumbled, only to regret it as he flinched at the sight of the icy stare that was his mother's trademark glare. "I'm sorry...but to be fair; I wasn't really given any other choice." As if with the furrowing of her brow, Jaune explained the events that occurred, albeit with some discretion and changing of certain names. His story was met with various reactions from Winter, especially with the parts of him actually poisoning the leader of the Fang, and his newly hired assistant coming to his aid when he was just about to clock out. After no sign of Winter blowing up presented itself, Summer arose, off to the side of the scroll's screen, and settled beside Ilia. While the Faunus herself still wasn't comfortable with the sentient doll, she still thanked Oum Summer was smaller and kinda cute. Unlike the dolls Jaune used against Kahn.

As he finished his little tale, the woman appeared deep in thought for a moment before glaring at him. "And you're saying now the Fang is going to be actively aiming for you?" At this point, the blond was tempted to end the call right there and then, solely due to the fact that he'd hidden a bit more of his interactions with his mother. He knew how she'd get if he told her the Fang was constantly either attempting to recruit him, or harass him at any given point.

But for Winter, this was something she wanted to avoid. She knew Ghira's influence stretched far into the faunus communities, but the extent halted at the coast of his people's nation; Menagerie. And even then, there were some activities the heiress was sure the man had no clue of, operating right under his nose. Yet, here she stood on the other end of a call with her son, sitting in this nation where he was now a target. What stressed her out to a great degree was the idea of what these White Fang would do if they found out the boy's mother was a Schnee. Though, the woman had a plan, something she had thought of for quite some time. However, she wanted to discuss this during their trip in two weeks. But with the Fang now aiming their sights on him, her mind was made up. "Then if that's the case, you'll be moving to a little cabin I recently purchased in Patch, just a little ways away from the city of Vale." She stated, leaving little room for objection as she quickly took note of his attempt at rejecting her, to which she was quick to shut him up. "I will be staying with you for half a year, it should accommodate us both so there' not much worry there. We will discuss this further after you've taken the time to rest properly. I suggest you begin packing."
"But-" He couldn't just up and leave, what of his shop? What of the life he had built in Menagerie. Yes, it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, but at least he strove to make a better life for himself on his own.

"End of discussion, Jaune!" her patience had reached its limit. From the mounting paper work, the current heated issues with her father, and now her son's life being threatened and him not caring of it; she'd had enough. She'd take a movement to cool down before speaking again, only this time she was speaking to his furrowed expression. She sighed, softly. "I will not stand by and allow you to be a sitting target in their homeland. I promised to protect you, and I don't plan on skipping out on my word. Get some rest, son. It's late; we'll talk more in the morning." And with that, the call ended, leaving Jaune to toss his scroll unto the coffee table. Groaning lightly as he ran his hand through his hair. He remained quiet for a few seconds before chuckling.

"Well, so much for establishing roots." The blond had high hopes for his shop, essentially making it a family-run business. A few more ideas were thought up before, but with his head now on the White Fang's list, he couldn't exactly sit around and wait for his end. Not like this. And with Svartalf gone, whatever left of his people would need to survive through him.

For Reavers, there were a specific set of codes to live by, and while Jaune never exactly caught on to the fighting styles of his clan, he did remember three codes. The first two were more along the lines of pacifism, seeking peace and understanding, whilst encouraging the pursuit of knowledge of any kind. Taking a moment to think it over, the latter might've given insight as to why the Reavers were wiped out. But the third code was less a way of living or lesson in combat. Rather, it was a writ. One that all Reavers learned, and it was no exaggeration either. At the first, and only tribal gathering the blond had gone to, this code was recited by all members; old, young, it didn't matter.

"Aav Ko Dinok,

Krosis Ko Krongrah,

Sos Alun Bo,

Un Sil Unslaad."

Ilia was frozen, her eyes widened. He had spoken in some language she could only assume was his tribal tongue. But, why so suddenly, why now? His tone of voice, demanded attention, it was almost as if he were speaking with a multitude, or chorus one could say. For a moment the faunus gathered her bearings before eventually asking.

"…that was?"

"My people's tongue, the language of the Vul Krein." He answered, his eyes focused forward, not on the tv, but rather, simply forward.

The faunus remained confused. "Ok, I don't speak your people's language though."

"I know." He responded, offering her a genuine smile, albeit the faintest she'd seen to date/ it quickly shifted to a deep glare as he gestured behind them, to the darkened corridor of their home. "But she does." With that little revelation, Ilia quickly jumped to her feet, her weapon prepped in hand. Though, Jaune payed little care as the shadows behind seemingly moved towards them. She aimed her weapon directly at the newcomer, though she almost just as quickly lowered her weapon as from the shadows emerged what she feared most; an assassin, most likely the White Fang. "You know what that means don't you? I taught it to you?" Jaune addressed the newcomer, rising from his seat and turning to face her. If looked at closely, one could catch a glimpse of sorrow and regret in their eyes upon seeing one another, but it was quickly overshadowed by the assassin drawing her blade, and the puppets coming to Jaune's side. Due to his recent battle, only two were by his side. But it didn't matter; they would be enough for this fight. After all, he wouldn't kill this assassin. How could he? They grew up together, laughed and played together. In a sense, they were practically siblings. Of course, they did play the part. Publically.

"Long time, eh Blake?" Ilia's eyes widened, realizing who was sent to dispatch the thorn in Taurus' hide. But, was this really going to happen? Was this girl truly going to kill her own brother?

Peeking through her mask were amber eyes, fixated solely on Jaune. "I'm not here for you? Her eyes then drifted to Ilia, the latter flinched, backtracking as another realization struck; she'd gone against her leader and in doing so; branded a traitor. The news got around pretty fast all things considered. The White Fang was efficient, or perhaps only this branch was. Either way, it didn't deter from the fact that the current assassin and now formally childhood friend was gripping a dagger and intent on directing it towards the chameleon faunus. Without hesitation, the blond shifted to her side, his puppets taking a defensive stance around them as well. "Jaune…" Blake never took her eyes off Ilia, but her tone had softened when speaking to her sibling. "Stand aside, my business is with the traitor, not you." the way she spoke, the lack of guilt she felt for having to go after her friend. Did Blake still see Ilia as a friend anymore?

No, she'd been radicalized, there was some sliver of common sense left in her, but it was buried beneath all the propaganda she'd been fed. And now, she was a puppet of the Fang, much like Jaune's creations. The latter of course shook his head, remaining firm by her side. Without further words, Blake sighed, and then proceeded to signal reinforcements. By which a great many had come in via the crashing through the windows. A small number of a dozen and a half hooded assassins surrounded the two shopkeepers. Blake stood by the corridor, taking one last glance before turning to depart to the first floor. "Take them both, ALIVE." She couldn't stress that enough. The White Fang slowly closed in on them, forcing Ilia and Jaune back to back.

"Soooooo…got a plan?" he asked. To which Ilia's response was a hardened glare mixed with the feelings of betrayal. Not by the Fang, but by Blake. Years of friendship, of trust and kinship, all of it thrown aside simply for the good of a cause that even she was beginning to see the fault in.

"Yea." She growled. "We take down your sister; send her back to Kahn crawling."

"Solid plan. And how do you propose we get down there?" Jaune asked as the assassins were drawing ever closer.

Ilia was silent for a moment before a sickening smile appeared. "How heavy are the puppets?"

"Each about as heavy as an iron cuirass, maybe a bit more. He answered; his puppets were now to their sides.
"Why?"

Ilia side-glanced the blond, as did he to her. The glimmer in her eyes screamed a plan of success, but the common sense in his brain urged extreme caution. "Ever heard of 'get help'?"

And here marks another chapter. I know, a cliffhanger gets annoying; I've done them to death by now. But reassured, the next will have much more content, more time for our main characters to interact, and a bit more insight into the Reaver's powers and culture. Thank you all for reading, stay tuned for the next chapter. Ciao!

Oh, and that phrase will be translated in the next chapter.