Blake had gone to dinner early, and managed to avoid running into Ruby a second time thanks to her decision. Unfortunately, she wasn't so lucky when it came to the sleeping arrangement in one of the halls.

She was leaning against the wall and enjoying her book, thumbing through the pages slowly but surely as she absorbed the story being laid out in front of her. She drank in the rich descriptions of the struggles of Dr Jekyll and his alter-ego, Mr Hyde. It was a compelling piece of literature, even though at times the English was hard to follow. She had much and more practice with similar novels in the past, and had become mostly aware of the strange lingo employed.

She couldn't help but feel that she could relate to Dr Jekyll's predicament, the memories of what she did as a member of the White Fang being her own Mr. Hyde.

Her reverie was not to last, however, as a particularly loud opening and closing of the doors to the hall heralded the entrance of the girl that the Faunus had been actively avoiding.

Immediately suspicious of who might have entered, the Faunus leaned forwards from her position against the wall to try and peak around the corner of the bookcase she was seated next to. Any tables and such that probably normally populated the large room had been removed in lieu of a place for the students to sleep, so Blake had a pretty good line-of-sight to the door.

She caught sight of a somewhat… Cocky? Looking young man with blonde hair standing in the doorway with his hands on hips, and a goofy smile on his face. Beside him was a rather exasperated young woman which Blake immediately recognized as Ruby. The girl's flushed expression indicated that she was probably quite embarrassed to be seen in close proximity to the boy. Blake shrugged to herself, she would probably feel the same with that display.

Sighing and leaning back against the wall, she crossed her legs and lifted her book, intent to ignore the situation and resume her reading. As she continued down the page she heard the recently-entered pair chatting, even at her distance. The ears under her bow twitched involuntarily as she tried to, at least with some semblance of subtlety, listen in on what they were saying.

"I'm opening the doors from now on." Ruby groused, her tone laced with sarcasm as two or three people shushed them for their volume. The boy said something with a bit of a whine, which was followed by a short pause, then a dismissal. "I need to grab my stuff. See you later."

The girl plodded away, probably towards the lockers that housed the student's equipment and such, leaving the blonde to go off and do whatever. Much to Blake's horror this seemed to include stripping down on the guy's side of the room and putting on a onesie. It was surreal enough that Blake had to put down her book for a moment to confirm that the young man was in fact donning a… Baby blue rabbit-patterned…

Grimacing and trying to wash the image from her mind, she reopened to her page and tried to find where she had left off. She's really trying to be a distraction. Blake thought, flipping back a page to see if she had accidentally gone too far ahead. Nobody at the test recognized her, judging by the reaction. She made a spectacle of the thing by not fighting with her weapon… And now she's making friends with kids like that.

Blake finally found the sentence she had left off on, a couple pages earlier than she thought, and continued, pushing the thoughts from her mind. The girl was strange, but nothing to get distracted over. Her plan was to lay low, and no amount of poking and prodding of oddity would change that.

"Oh, are you Blake?"

Fuck.

Blake took a deep breath before pointedly turning the page, despite not being finished with the one she was currently on. It was a tried and true method of ignoring someone and right now she was relying on it to be a perfect counter to what she dreaded might be… A guy in a baby-blue onesie.

"Hello?" He tried, crouching and waving a hand, as if the Faunus hadn't already noticed him and elected to pretend this wasn't happening. "Hi I'm Jaune. Ruby's friend?"

Blake gave the blonde a blank look, willing him to simply turn and give up. Instead, his expression seemed to brighten up, going from glowing to brilliant. His toothy smile and the vacant look in his eyes elicited a groan unbidden from Blake's chest. She had the sinking suspicion that he was going to lead Ruby right to her.

Ruby walked into the locker room slowly, enjoying the peace and quiet she found. She was really enjoying chatting up Jaune, who seemed to be the sort of clueless kind. At first she thought he was a bit of a flake, and she was still pretty sure that he was a bit lame, but he had rebounded quickly and had a compatible sense of humor. At first she had been concerned that he wouldn't get her ribbing, but he had managed to actually get used to it and throw some barbs back…

She sighed with relief, scratching her forehead and rolling her shoulders as she counted the rows of lockers to get to her own. She drummed her fingers on each as she passed, counting each row aloud under her breath. It was deliberate, a good old fashioned way for her to calm down. Her nerves cooled and she stopped counting, slipping between rows to find her number, 781.

Looking around and seeing that nobody was nearby, she pulled her labrys off her back and placed it flat on the nearby bench, making sure that it wasn't going to slide off and rattle against the smooth tiles. She would have to polish it before she went to bed, judging by the smudges against the gleaming blades, the thought making her grumble. She didn't particularly enjoy the weapon upkeep, but… She didn't really have a choice. She was a stickler about weapon maintenance when it was someone else's gear, but somehow it was hard to follow her own principles when it came to her own stuff.

Opening the door to her locker she pulled out everything she needed. Loose black fleece pants, a red shirt, a fresh pair of socks, and a sleeping bag. She nearly closed the locker before grimacing and pulling out the polish and a rag, setting both on the floor away from the bench or her clothing.

Taking off her prized poncho and shirt, leaving her in a plain black sports bra, she glanced down at her dark pants and decided that any stain was probably not going to be all that noticeable. That, along with the thought that someone walking in and seeing a half-naked girl polishing her weapon would be really weird. She couldn't wait until she had her own room.

So she picked up her axe as she was, missing a shirt, and went to work. The Labrys, which she had never named unlike many huntsmen and huntresses, was a somewhat ornate affair. Collapsed as it was, it was quite difficult to figure out what exactly the weapon was supposed to be, the silhouette almost like a blood-red-and-black damselfly curled in on itself. Holding onto the middle of the handle she tilted her wrist, the weight of the weapon's ends doing the work for her. The axehead dropped down on its hinge, the two blades clicking flat, while the long handle straightened itself. It wasn't exactly elegant, but it was simple to work with to say the least.

Ruby sat down on the bench with her polish between her feet and inspected the pommel and the handle, running fingertips along the metal. The pommel had the three barbs set into it, two-inch blocks of metal roughly an inch wide which tapered into a point. It wasn't the most effective stabbing implement, but the staggered blades with their red insets and their glass-like finish made them look more dangerous than they actually were… Considering there was an axe on the other end.

The brass of the pommel twisted about a quarter of the way up the hilt, the creases inset with a red dye. The lower grip was made of rounds of black-stained leather, a single long cord wrapped an inch thick, which was mirrored above the hinge below the axehead. This binding had been carefully banded, leaving a supple gripping surface that honestly looked quite nice given the function. It had obviously been well maintained, with gold thread sewn into one side of the grip. The thread was woven into letters, nonsense runes that nobody could read if they wanted to. Between the grips the weapon flattened, taking a more rectangular form. The metal was still red, but the inside was inlaid with wood, a pyrograph of a spade covered by one of a rose.

It was a piece from another age, anyone who looked at it could tell that much. As her fingernails gently sought where the wood touched the metal she sought out gaps, cracks, warping of the wood or chipping of the metal. Wherever she checked she found neither wear nor tear, and yet her silver eyes still searched to be certain.

She hadn't done anything to really warrant this thorough of a check, she supposed. Ruby paused for a moment to tug on the leather of the hilt to check the tightness of the binding, then running the cloth along the metal to get any dust or residue off it. The old thing had been through much worse and only had a few scratches here and there to show for it, and the only thing she'd really done that day was drive the axe into the ground... She'd done that for practical and dramatic purposes more than once in the past, so she was confident there was nothing wrong, but she was putting off the annoying part.

At the other end of the axe, where the upper grip was fastened, there was a series of pins that held the axe head to the hilt. They were hammered flat eons ago, and showed no signs of failing, but it was the last conceivable thing she could do before getting to the oiling.

Set into the prongs on both sides of the axe were brass wolves. The tails of the beasts intertwined where the fork met at the hilt, and their lithe bodies bended towards the tips of the blades, their mouths open in silent howl. They were beautiful when shined to a mirror polish, but a somewhat ill-fated explanation of her weapon to Jaune had left it in the dirt after an empty threat or two. She smiled at the memory, and the look of fear on Jaune's face after he realized Ruby was serious about him cutting the flirting off, before going to work trying to get the worst of the grime off.

The rag was stained with oil, and while that wouldn't be a problem with the blades, the brass itself would look dull. Grimacing she looked up to her locker and tried to think if she had another rag that she could use, only to see a redhead with quirked brows blocking her line of sight.

Pyrrha hadn't intended to, at least at first, actually strike up conversation with the shirtless girl. In fact, she had felt quite embarrassed when she turned down a row of lockers to see a someone too caught up in servicing her weapon to notice someone had entered the room. The gladiator had gone so far as to step back and hide behind the end of the row to keep said embarrassment to herself, let alone let the girl know someone had walked in on her.

Pyrrha could scarce believe what she had seen, and as quietly as a mouse she peered around the corner to watch the black-haired girl fiddle with her axe. She couldn't readily determine who the girl was… She looked like she was too old to be a first year, but definitely too young to be a professor. So if Pyrrha was a betting woman, she would've put her lien on the girl being a third-year.

Interested in why the girl was so intense, Pyrrha decided to watch. Kneeling down behind the lockers to give herself some modicum of stealth, the gladiator watched intently as the girl's fingers danced over her weapon. Nails pulled at rivets, fingers tugged at leather bindings, fingertips brushed over wood and polish with equal measures of care and intensity. It was somewhat mesmerizing, which made Pyrrha smile despite herself, watching the light glint off the bronzed metal of the axe as the girl moved it in the light. It was like the shirtless girl was showing off her weapon to those around, even though the crease in her brow belied the fact she was too steeped in her thoughts to notice anyone.

There was something almost comical about the girl's weapon, something which nagged at Pyrrha as she watched. The weapon was made of wood and metal, something brasslike, the blacks and reds highlighted with a warm ale-like sheen. It looked old, almost like it belonged in a museum. Most modern weapons forwent natural materials in lieu of alloys and composites, as they tended to be far more flexible and resilient when it came to wear and tear. Even her own shield and lance, despite their older design, used highly resilient composites which afforded it great protection against the elements as well as tooth and claw.

Pyrrha thought to ask, but the current juxtaposition of her and the woman made that difficult. She was technically peeping, she guessed, though that wasn't really her intention. Just an unfortunate side effect of something totally clandestine.

A grunt of displeasure caught Pyrrha's ear and her eyes refocused to see the girl inspecting the bronze figures that were set into the blade assembly, the metal noticeably dull even in the dim light of the room. Pyrrha followed her eyes as she glanced from the sullied material to the rag she had placed on her lap, and caught the grimace on her face and look of consideration.

Stepping forward, the Gladiator put her best smile on her face, blocking the girl's line of sight to her open locker. The girl took a moment to register that there was someone else in the room, let alone a couple feet away, and redness slowly creeped into the tips of her ears. Somehow, and Pyrrha honestly couldn't fathom how, she didn't seem all that concerned with her state of undress.

"Hi." The young woman began, sounding a bit curious as Pyrrha turned and started to fiddle with the access key to her own locker. Pulling the door open, she grabbed a dark red felt cleaning cloth from a hook inside the door and tossed it backwards to the girl sitting on the bench. "Uh, thanks!"

Pyrrha's expression lightened up, and she felt her expression brighten further, before schooling it into a less embarrassing façade and turning herself. "You seemed like you were looking for something like that."

"Hmm." The young woman sounded suspicious, and it was the gladiator's turn to blush when the brunette regarded her with searching eyes. Before she could feel any panic at the possibility that she had been caught, the girl's expression turned teasing, a brow rising and the corner of her mouth turning up playfully. "Were you watching me?"

Awkward. Pyrrha's smile got a little tight as she felt her own face turn a deeper shade of red. "I, I was just here and you're cleaning your weapon and it made sense that you might need-"

The girl's smirk widened into a full smile and she chuckled, cutting off Pyrrha's babbling. "It's fine, I would avoid me too." She held up the felt cloth motioning with it in thanks before turning her head down to her axe and leaning over, wiping the fabric against the blades. "I probably look like quite the weirdo."

"No." The gladiator denied, though that's exactly what she had thought a couple minutes ago. "Well, maybe. The shirt thing mostly."

"Yeah…" The girl trailed off, snorting. "That's what happens when you're light on packings. Don't want to get oil on my good shirt, don't want to walk around in a greasy one and make people think I'm a slob…" She paused in her wipe-down of the brass wolves and tilted her head up to Pyrrha, her eyes meeting the redhead's. "I'm Ruby by the way."

"Pyrrha."

"Pyrrhic Pyrrha?" Ruby queried, sounding bemused and turning to fully face the standing girl.

"Exactly."

"Sort of a weird name."

Pyrrha didn't really know how to really tackle that remark. Her name wasn't particularly common, unlike some of the other more common names out there (Ruby being one of them, gemstones were common enough in naming nomenclature), but it probably wasn't the weirdest combination of consonants in the world. "How so?"

Ruby seemed to ponder this for a moment before shrugging. "Well it's super old," She made a circular motion with her finger, "not, like, in a bad way like being named Gertrude or something stuffy like that."

Leaning back against her now-closed locker, Pyrrha's head tilted. "That's a sort of random piece of trivia to have." The question was audible in her voice, and the girl seemed to smile at the comment, giving another noncommittal shrug.

"I worked at a library when I was little, gave me lots of chances to read up on stuff." Ruby held her axe up close to her face to inspect the blades, making a soft noise that indicated her satisfaction with her work before putting the red cloth aside and picking up the oily rag. She poked at the container of polish with her toe trying to wrangle it closer to her before Pyrrha stepped forward and picked it up for her, which Ruby accepted with a quiet 'thank-you'. "I was there for a couple years. Got to read a bunch of stuff, some of it from way before the war."

Ruby paused in her explanation to do a little bit of yoga. She wrapped her legs around the handle of her axe tightly so it wouldn't shift, then pulled the lid off of the polish, keeping that tight grip on the axe. Pyrrha's brows raised at that, she thought it made much more sense to just use a bench to apply the polish, but the girl didn't seem to be straining herself.

"Doesn't that cramp your legs?" Pyrrha asked, since the position looked more painful by the moment.

"A bit." Ruby admitted, dabbing the rag in the goopy polish. "But this stuff is nasty, I'd feel bad for whoever had to scrape it off whatever I drip this on."

"Want me to hold it up then?"

"Thanks for the offer, but… Well." Ruby relaxed her grip on the handle of the axe and used one hand to keep it upright and motioning with her head for Pyrrha to approach. "It's sort of heavy."

The gladiator took another look at the axe and sort of saw what the girl was saying. The heads of the axe were rather wide, taking up a surprising amount of space with their nearly twelve-inch blades. The ornamental wolves, as svelte as they were, probably added a fair amount of wait themselves with their forms leaning back in their howl. It was a bulky thing, but she felt like she had to try and heft it just for the experience.

When Pyrrha grabbed the axe by the upper grip she instantly felt what Ruby was talking about, and she immediately had to shift her grip to prevent the axe from rotating sideways thanks to its weight distribution. Holding the axe blades parallel to her chest the major blade fought against her grip, intent on swinging down to the ground with a clang.

Exhaling, Pyrrha reached out with her semblance and tried to stabilize it with her magnetokinesis, only to find that the metal was completely unresponsive. Bronze and brass, she realized, feeling that the entire weapon didn't respond to her touch. It only confirmed her earlier suspicions, that the weapon was old, since Bronze had gone out of style for weapons long ago. Her own hoplon had a bronze finish on the front, along with some fittings on the edges, but she had never personally come across a fully-cast weapon made of the stuff before.

That also explained why it was so heavy. The stuff could weigh as much steel, and the main axe heads were probably forty pounds alone, and wasn't at all counterbalanced. The thing was top-heavy to say the least.

"Yeah, it's not exactly the most well-balanced thing in the world." Ruby said, her brows raised at what Pyrrha imagined to be the frustrated curl of her brows at finding the axe annoying to handle. The weight was lifted off of her hands as Ruby pulled it from her grip and re-wrapped her legs around the handle and started applying the polish. "A traditional labrys has identical blades on both sides, but this one has an asymmetrical arrangement for some reason. A pain to use… Feels like you're swinging around a giant hammer."

"Why did you design it that way?" Pyrrha asked, silently agreeing that using such an off-balance weapon would probably be quite the challenge. The could easily see that one of the axeheads was actually a few inches longer than the other, making it even more puzzling. "Surely you must've known that it would be trouble to maneuver."

Ruby seemed to pause at that comment before she looked at Pyrrha around the axe. "You made your weapon?"

Pyrrha felt her own brows shift at that before shaking her head. "No, but it was commissioned. Most Huntsmen either craft their weapons themselves or design their weapons and have them made by a professional."

The incredulous expression the girl was now sporting caused Pyrrha to chuckle awkwardly herself. The girl made a noise like a 'hmph' before going back to polishing her weapon, leaving an awkward air in the room. Pyrrha didn't know why, but the girl seemed to be suddenly distant, her brows knitted together, and her hands resting on the fore-grip of the axe.

Ah, maybe she is a first year? Pyrrha thought, scratching at the back of her neck awkwardly in the silence. If so, and she tested in from somewhere, and she inherited the axe (which seemed likely because it was so damn old), she might be embarrassed… And then I might've made her feel embarassed about it.

Pyrrha hadn't really said anything mean, nor intended to sound as such, but she was feeling a little guilty now. "Uh, sorry. I didn't mean to assume anything."

"Ah, I was doing 'that thing' again." Ruby muttered, shaking her head before waving her hand that was holding the rag. "I should be apologizing, I'm nearly twenty and I act like a damn middle schooler sometimes."

Much to the gladiator's surprise, the girl stood and brushed off her axe, not caring to finish the polishing. She hung the rag over one of the folded blades and placed the weapon in her locker, on a hook which then folded up to save space, the rag conveniently keeping any drips from falling down to the other contents. With speed, and not saying much more, she packed the rest of the errant pieces she had taken out. She turned away from the end of the row of lockers, and hence away from Pyrrha, and swiftly unclasped her bra before pulling on a shirt.

In the scant few seconds before the shirt when on, however, Pyrrha could see a somewhat arced line of large scars occurring at regular intervals on the girl's back. Most notably, the keloids were dark brown, and roughly the size of half a fist in diameter. They were ugly marks, and it almost looked like the girl had been caught in a shark's mouth for those to form.

"Alright…" Ruby mumbled to herself, breaking the silence. "Reintroductions!"

Her voice was loud enough to catch Pyrrha off guard, and she stepped away from the now glowing Ruby, who looked like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Taking a deep breath she raised a hand and pressed it to her chest, planted her feet at a shoulder's width apart, and tilted her head slightly.

"My name is Ruby Rose," She began, her tone brimming with some quintessential vigor that was missing before, her eyes alive and gleaming without the dull intensity of concentration. "I, am a bit of a dolt sometimes, my taste isn't that good, I'm a quintessential country bumpkin." She then pointed a finger at Pyrrha, "I am not, under any circumstances, a mopey kid with an attitude problem." She then motioned to herself and where she had been seated before, "You know, aside from that stuff."

"Oh, I didn't think you were moping-"

"Please, please, I know how bad I get." Ruby waved off Pyrrha's attempt to reassure her with a flap of the hand. "It's hard being from out of town but I'm a big girl, I can manage my feelings of jealousy towards a good friend." She splayed a hand in front of her chest and looked up towards the ceiling. "I'm not a jealous person, I'm happy my friend Pyrrha Nikos has cool custom weapons with lasers or whatever." She smiled serenely and regarded Pyrrha once more.

Pyrrha seemed taken aback for a moment from the genuine display, though she found that Ruby's smile was rather contagious. She returned it, shaking her head despite herself. "Well, it's nice to meet someone here who has a glowing smile." She had to hold back a giggle at the redness on Ruby's face as she held up her hands as if to keep the compliment at bay.

"Oh come on, we could spend all night sucking up to each other or we could actually get to know each other a bit better." Ruby said, finally escaping from her cargo pants and slipping into her fleecies. She could see that Pyrrha hadn't changed yet either, so she stepped out from the lockers and turned her back to the Huntress-in-training to give her some privacy. "I've had some good luck meeting a few people today, but it's been a bit of a rush to do something each time so I haven't gotten to know anyone too well..."

Pyrrha grinned to herself as she changed, taking a moment to think before answering, "Well, it's a bit late so I'm not sure how long we'll be able to stay up swapping stories," Pyrrha could almost feel Ruby deflating at her reason, so she continued, "but I'm sure we can play a quick game or something like that."

When the pair were back out into the library they set up near one of the windows, which Ruby cracked for a bit of fresh air. Unbeknownst to them, they were actually just around the corner from Blake, who was currently doing her best to will Jaune out of existence as he snored just a few feet away from her. Sitting facing each other they thought to play a game of similarities, the first person to find the third thing they shared would win. A good ice-breaker. Ruby won the coin toss, so she went first.

"So Pyrrha," Ruby began, her fingers pressed to her chin in mock concentration, "Do you have any siblings?"

Pyrrha shook her head wistfully, giving a half smile to her opponent. "None. Just me and my mom. I have wanted a brother or sister since I was a little kid..." She trailed off, crossing her arms. The library felt just a little too quiet for a moment. "Being an only child has its perks, I suppose, but it's nice to know someone has your back, you know?"

Ruby nodded empathetically, shrugging herself. "I have a sister... Well, half-sister, though that doesn't really change how I feel about her." Ruby leaned back, propping herself up on her hands. "Yang's her name. She's two years younger than me, different mom. If you saw the two of us together you probably wouldn't be able to tell we were related."

"How old are you, exactly?"

Ruby seemed a bit sheepish at the question. "Well, I'm 19, so technically I'm already two years behind going into year one." She shifted again, glancing to the side. "My sister is 17 then, obviously. I didn't know she was going to be here." To Pyrrha's puzzled look she offered a shrug. "I haven't seen her in nearly ten years, but I'm pretty sure I saw her in the cafeteria."

Nikos absorbed the information quietly, not sure what to make of it. This all seemed a little... bizarre.

"I'm not super keen on getting into the who, what, when, where, or why of this." Ruby continued, sighing. "Sorry."

"No!" Pyrrha said, just a smidge too loud. "No, it's fine, I know it's hard to talk about things sometimes." Relaxing once Ruby gave her a smile. "Well, I'll go for an easy one. Do you know how to use your semblance?"

To this the other girl nodded. "Mine is a lot of speed."

"That's not very descriptive."

"If a girl whose semblance was 'breathes fire' says 'I breathe fire' it's pretty much as descriptive as it gets."

"Point taken!" Pyrrha chuckled, "Two actually, because that's the first thing we have in common."

"Darn," Ruby gave an over-dramatic sigh before pointing at the victor of round one, "What's your semblance?"

"It's a secret."

Ruby made a noise that sounded an awful lot like 'Pbbbbt' before crossing her arms to think of her next question. "Do you have any pets?"

"Nope."

"Wow, OK, I have a Corgi named Zwei."

"What happened to the first one?" Pyrrha asked, her brows furrowed.

"You know what?" Ruby replied, her eyes closed in an attempt to remember. "I have no idea. Maybe there was no Eins?"

Both shrugged, who knew why pets were named the way they were anyways?

"Anyway..." Pyrrha sat pensively for a moment, then thought of a freebie. "Have you named your weapons?"

"Nope," Ruby replied in a tone that seemed to imply she didn't really... get the question. "Did... Did you?"

Pyrrha was sort of surprised she felt embarrassed that Ruby thought she was weird for naming her spear and shield. Everyone named their weapons. Everyone. Even little kids who ran around with sticks to play Hunters and Grimm named the sticks they played with.

"Ruby... Where exactly did you grow up?" Pyrrha asked, wondering if it was a rude thing to ask.

"Here and there." Ruby replied evasively, though her squinted eyes made it apparent she didn't think that was particularly relevant. "The answer is still no."

Fifteen minutes passed and they'd found two things they had in common, they were just missing the third. Despite the game supposedly being quick they found out they had surprisingly few things in common. So far, the things they did have were semblances and... preferred Bladed weapons. They'd ruled against any of the gimmies so they'd shot through a few questions. They didn't both come from Vale, nor did they both have a favourite game on their scroll (Ruby didn't even have one). They didn't both like spicy food, nor rain, nor snow, nor studying with music, nor have the same birth month nor have the same favourite colour...

"You both have hair." Came a gruff voice from around a nearby corner. The two girls jumped a bit at the voice and turned to see a somewhat haggard-looking Blake poking her head out. "You both have hair. You both have that in common. Hairy. I win. Shut up."

Then, like a creature returning to its hovel under a bridge, she disappeared, leaving a pair of very surprised Huntresses behind.

AN: I'm well aware that some people will be put off by the age change. In this story, Ruby is 2 years older than Yang, so the situation is somewhat flipped. What that affected, and how their lives changed because of it, is what's explored here. With some obvious canon divergence because, well, it's gotta be a story.

This is more or less the last re-edit of a previously posted chapter. Fresh stuff from here on out.