Chapter Four: Pulchritudo Et Quod Bestia
Wednesday, the 30th of October, 1889.
As Ren was departing from the Croydon flat, Jaune and Pyrrha were arriving at Exham Museum. Walking through the Egyptian gallery, Pyrrha silently led Jaune into her private office on the right. Once inside, Pyrrha floundered into her armchair, looking emotionally exhausted.
Jaune turned to her and asked, "Pyrrha, is it alright if I call in some cops to help guard the place after it closes?"
Pyrrha nodded.
"Very well. I'll also ring Oobleck about what he found, and call in the man who led the investigation of the Tenebrae Club explosion."
It was then that he noticed Pyrrha's state, and Jaune promptly decided to hold the procedural stuff for the moment.
"But first, would you like something to drink?"
Pyrrha looked at Jaune wearily.
"Irish breakfast, white and none. There will be some in the staff kitchen. Also, get some watercress and chicken sandwiches from there. Feel free to help yourself to some."
Jaune looked somewhat surprised at Pyrrha's choice in tea, but nodded affirmatively.
"Sure thing. Never realised you were one for Irish tea, by the way."
Pyrrha, clearly having heard that remark before, sighed and rolled her eyes.
"Well, when your mother's an Irishwoman, you learn to love Irish tea really quickly."
"Ah; that makes sense. I did wonder why you had auburn hair despite the Greek surname. Anyway, I'll get to making that tea. Where's the staff kitchen?"
"Go towards the back of this wing, and enter the last door on the left."
"Thank you, Pyrrha."
As Jaune walked out, Pyrrha ruminated miserably on the increasingly appalling situation she found herself in.
"This is just dandy. Who would have thought that I'd become the damsel in distress in some tenth-rate melodrama?"
As she said that, a wave of anger overcame her. No, she resolved. I will not sit back and let the officers do all the work for me. I need to get Milό and guard the shield alongside the police – after all, I'm responsible for bringing it here. As she finished thinking this, Jaune returned with two cups of tea and enough sandwiches for the pair of them.
"Thank you, Inspector," Pyrrha said gratefully.
"You're welcome, Pyrrha," Jaune replied as he sat down with her.
"So Inspector," Pyrrha started, "do you have any plan on stopping these murderers in their tracks?"
Jaune considered it for a moment. "Well, I could fill the place with policemen after closing time, hoist the shield up somewhere in plain view and ambush the murderers then."
Pyrrha mulled it over. "That does make sense; after all, the Grimm were likely waiting for Yatsuhashi to leave before they killed Arthur. It stands to reason that they'd wait until the museum's empty before striking."
At that point, there was a knock on the door.
"Come in," Pyrrha called out. Standing outside was Pyrrha's assistant.
"Pyrrha, the secure display you asked for the Eye of Ra has just finished being assembled. We'll be ready to place the Eye of Ra within it at a moment's notice."
Pyrrha smiled. "Good work. I'll just finish my lunch and fetch the shield from my house."
Her assistant nodded and walked off, and Jaune turned to Pyrrha as she shut the door.
"I'm pretty sure you lied to her just then," he whispered.
Pyrrha nodded. "I know; she doesn't know where it's being stored, and I needed to retrieve a little something from my house. It will help with your ambushing plan."
"If you insist on helping us, I guess I can take you home."
Pyrrha then turned to him.
"We can always take the tube from Baker Street; that will get us to Kensington without drawing attention to ourselves."
"Good thinking, Pyrrha. I'll just get onto the Yard about the plan, along with getting results from forensics and contacting Special Branch about their investigation."
Pyrrha nodded as she started eating her lunch. She allowed her mind to drift off all the while, only remembering snippets of Jaune's conversations – like "estoc was the likely weapon, eh?" and "I'm pretty sure it was them, Branwen."
She only came to when Jaune put the receiver down for the last time.
If someone were to ask Inspector Jaune Arc where he thought a young, female archaeologist lived, he would've likely responded with "either her parents or in a set of reasonably cheap rooms".
He was therefore struck dumb when Pyrrha led him to her three-storey townhouse in one of the wealthiest parts of London.
Finally, as Dr. Nikos led him into her parlour, Jaune regained the ability to speak.
"If you don't mind me asking, Pyrrha, how come a young archaeologist like you lives alone in a Kensington townhouse? Do you family provide it for you?"
She turned to him with an embarrassed expression and shyly answered him as they sat down.
"Well, yes and no. Due to my father's father being an investment banker and my mother being of noble ancestry, my family are obscenely wealthy. In fact, they had a country house in Shropshire, where I grew up, as well as this townhouse.
"Then about five years ago, my father got an offer to work in Australia, and he and my mother agreed. My older brother, who is a naturalist and veterinarian, stayed in Shropshire while my younger brother moved to Adelaide with my parents, having earned a place in the new music college there. I was given the townhouse and a fair amount of their fortune because, by that time, I had gained a job at Exham and had just finished my doctorate at Queen's College, Oxford.
"Although my father fuelled my ambitions and allowed me to realise my potential as a scientist and explorer, my mother and both my brothers envy me for all the attention I received. So asides from the odd letter from my father, I haven't spoken to my family since we all went our separate ways."
Jaune whistled as they sat down in the parlour, his features set in a sombre arrangement.
"That's … quite a sad story, Pyrrha. And in a way, similar to mine."
Pyrrha cocked an eyebrow at this revelation.
"How so, Inspector?"
Jaune took a moment to collect himself before answering.
"Well, my family tree is riddled with career soldiers. My grandfather, General Augustus Arc, fought in India as a captain, and my father, Colonel Sir Noirtier Arc, served under Lord Chelmsford during the Zulu war. With a history like that in the family, you couldn't not be raised in wealth and its trappings.
"After boarding at Eton, I got into Pembroke College at Cambridge on a criminology course, then washed out of the army and landed a post in Scotland Yard. This deeply angered my father, because he only ever looked for himself in me; a grizzled, stoic brute who could kill his enemies and send his inferiors to their deaths with no remorse. But I couldn't be as merciless and cruel as him, so he tried to disown me.
"But as the only son, I was spared somewhat by my mother. She bought me a decent set of rooms in Soho and gave me a few hundred pounds to start off with, but couldn't do a thing to help when I was cut off from my father's money. Since then, I haven't had much contact with my sisters, and my father takes every opportunity he gets to degrade me whenever my mother receives me."
Pyrrha's expression mirrored the one that Jaune had worn earlier that day. All this time, Pyrrha realised, he's gone out of his way to be kind to me, and likely every innocent soul he deals with in his line, because he doesn't want anyone inflicting nastiness on him like his father did. I'd better drop the formalities and treat him with a little more friendliness – even if he did go to Cambridge.
Jaune sighed wearily. "So Pyrrha, what idea did you have for the ambush?"
Pyrrha smiled at him as she rose towards the stairs.
"Jaune, wait down here for a few minutes, and I'll show you what I had in mind."
As Jaune decided to relax in the recliner chair he found himself in, Pyrrha ran to her bedroom on the top floor and laid out her safari outfit – which had been refurbished the day after she'd arrived in London. Retaining her fedora, Pyrrha changed her outfits as quickly as any Victorian lady could've managed under the circumstances. She then trotted down to the first floor, then called down for Jaune to walk upstairs. When he alighted on the landing, he walked into Pyrrha's workshop, and found himself staring at Pyrrha in her huntress regalia – modified rifle included.
"Well," Jaune said finally, "that's certainly one way of dealing with the Grimm."
For the first time that day, Pyrrha found it in herself to laugh.
At five that evening, Exham Museum closed to the public. Most of the staff finished their work a little bit later and left over the next half an hour, but Pyrrha was known for being something of a workaholic and usually let the cleaners in when she left at six. As it stood today, though, Jaune had a number of plain-clothes detectives cover the various entrances and exits, with Constable Burns helping coordinate their efforts.
Special Branch's Inspector Qrow Branwen, though caustically dismissive of the idea that more Grimm were out there, had reluctantly taken his post in the upper floor of the east wing, looking over the Zoo's entrance. Inside, Pyrrha had already placed the Eye of Ra inside its display case, and Jaune had just finished affixing it to a spot above the entrance to the Egyptian gallery.
"Right, that about settles it; I'll head to the west wing of the building and watch from the upper floor. Don't hesitate to scream if there's a problem."
"Well, I'll try my best, Jaune," Pyrrha casually replied as he ran off.
However, the one place that the police deemed impossible for the murderers to access without detection was the roof. Unfortunately, Tyrian had been hiding within London Zoo's outer walls for the last hour, and decided to strike now that the museum was empty.
The soles of his boots had been lined with golden Dust powder, and that meant that it only took one running jump to clear the fences and land on the southern side of the museum's roof. Wasting no time, Tyrian quickly located the main foyer's window, donned his pair of blade-edged cestuses and dived fists first into the glass.
Pyrrha had just walked towards the shield's display when the glass broke. Startled, she drew Milό and turned to face the attacker. Tyrian Callows threw off his duster jacket, and stood at full height. Bracers held up his white pants, and an open vest revealed scarring on his chest, which looked like one of the hieroglyphs on the shield. He mutilated himself to match the Eye?, Pyrrha observed in shock. What insane asylum did he emerge from?!
Tyrian's expression was dark, and intensely brooding.
"You were the one who dared touch the Eye of Ra? Such blasphemy will not be rewarded in kindness, pretty little thing," said Tyrian maniacally.
To her credit, Pyrrha held her nerves and tried to defuse the situation.
"Look above me; the Eye of Ra is safe and unspoiled! I only took it to make sure it wouldn't be harmed by others."
Tyrian froze, his face a mask of indecision as he pondered his course of action. Unfortunately, it was decided quite cruelly by a spot of bad luck on Pyrrha's part. The archaeologist stepped backwards, and tripped over the stairs. The rifle in her hand fired itself, shooting a blast of crimson Dust upwards and dislodging the Eye of Ra from its perch. Tyrian's features contorted into a rictus of rage as the case shattered.
"THAT'S ENOUGH WITH YOUR LIES, DEFILER! YOU DIE TONIGHT, WITLESS BEAUTY!"
With a mere twist of its lock, a rudimentary yet dangerous harpoon was unwrapped from Tyrian's belt and moved of its own accord. It never stayed in one place long, thanks to the crystal of golden Dust within it. Pyrrha barely had the time to get up before Tyrian pirouetted, letting his momentum determine the harpoon's course. She rolled to her right as the harpoon lodged itself into the wall, shifted her weapon into sword mode, and hacked at the rope with all her might.
She managed to sever one of the three strands and make a severe incision on another, rendering the harpoon's aim erratic at best. Tyrian used her distractedness to charge Pyrrha, leading with his right arm. Pyrrha ducked just in time, and used her whip to trip him up. As he fell, Pyrrha sliced through the remaining harpoon rope, shifted Milό into gun mode, and shot him in the backside.
All that did, however, was to set the rope on fire and annoy Tyrian even more. With a nasty right hook, he sent Pyrrha flying across the room, landing on the shield.
"ENOUGH WITH YOU TOUCHING THE EYE! I WILL – OUCH!" Tyrian clutched at his side, and jumped through the broken window screaming animalistically.
At the toilet entrance, Qrow stood in silence with a smoking derringer in his left hand.
Jaune, meanwhile, was running towards the foyer when Constable Burns found him.
"Did you catch the murderer?"
Burns had the decency to look embarrassed. "He outran us sir, even though he'd been shot in the stomach."
Jaune clenched his fists in fury.
"GOD DAMN IT! Burns, send the description out for the suspect at once; I don't want that bastard escaping so easily."
"Yes sir!"
Jaune burst into the main foyer, fuming with an uncharacteristic amount of anger. Pyrrha was struggling to hold Milό in her hand, and was shaking and sweating like she was burning alive. Qrow's face was stoic, even though stress was palpable in his eyes as he holstered his smoking pistol.
Jaune stared Qrow down with an expression that could've haunted houses.
"Do you believe me now?!", he shouted angrily.
Pyrrha nearly dropped her weapon in surprise at Jaune's outburst, and Qrow raised his hands defensively.
"Calm down, kid. I'm no idiot. I didn't realise that whoever blew up the Tenebrae Club weren't as thorough as they believed."
Jaune scowled, then handed Qrow the shield and Pyrrha's address.
"Head to this address and look after the shield until I return here. Tell the French housekeeper that Pyrrha sent you, and that I'll be protecting Pyrrha tonight."
Qrow nodded reluctantly; this was Jaune's case, and he wasn't about to interfere with his duty – not just yet, anyway. Even so, the thought of an unmarried man staying with an unmarried woman visibly rankled him.
Pyrrha picked up on Qrow's apprehension, and walked over to the older policeman.
"I have a separate bedroom for him to sleep in, if that's what you're worried about."
Qrow relaxed. "That's something. Just make sure he behaves himself."
"Well, he's done just that all day, so I'm sure he'll keep it up."
Qrow nodded, then turned to the exit and left.
"Um, Pyrrha," Jaune started, "I was wondering if you want to do something this evening?"
Pyrrha looked at him curiously. "Well, I've got nothing on, and Inspector Branwen will be guarding the shield tonight … so yes, I'm amenable to the idea. What did you have in mind, Jaune?"
Jaune turned to her with a smile on his face.
"Something to take your mind off your troubles. And before you ask, it's on me."
At six-thirty, Qrow arrived at Pyrrha's house with the shield in hand, the police were searching for Tyrian, and Jaune and Pyrrha were alighting from their cab outside the Savoy Theatre. Jaune lit up like a Christmas tree when he led Pyrrha to the door.
"We're seeing 'The Yeomen of the Guard' tonight; Gilbert and Sullivan's latest! I already had a spare ticket in case any of my friends wanted to come, but I reckoned you deserve it more than them after today."
Pyrrha looked pleasantly surprised, both at his generosity and his depth of character.
"Why, thank you Jaune – I hadn't had the chance to see this one due to my two Egyptian expeditions. And I must say, I knew you were educated, but I never took you to be a fan of music."
"Well," Jaune replied, "that's the sort of thing that happens when you grow up with seven sisters."
Pyrrha chuckled as she was led to an ampitheatre seat.
As Qrow stood guard outside Pyrrha's house at half-past ten that night, he heard what sounded like a young couple having a laughter-fueled conversation. Jaune and Pyrrha moved into view, giving Qrow cause to let a small smile form on his face. What a gentleman, Qrow thought to himself; he's truly a credit to the force for his chivalrous actions.
"So Jaune," Qrow began as the pair walked through the gate, "what did you two get up to?"
"Well, I had a spare ticket to see 'The Yeomen of the Guard'. It was immensely enjoyable; wouldn't you agree, Pyrrha?"
The archaeologist giggled. "Of course, Jaune. The first number was easily one of the best I've heard Jessie Bond do before, and who knew one could make so many puns in quasi-Shakespearian English?"
"I know, right? "
"Well, I'm glad to know the pair of you had fun tonight," said Qrow pleasantly. "I guess I'll head back home now you're here. Have you got any ideas about dealing with the shield?"
Pyrrha considered it for a moment. "Well, I think we'll have a 'one-time display' at some point this week, bring in a bit of revenue, then have it locked away in a safe or vault. Does Scotland Yard have such a place?"
Qrow nodded. "Indeed it does – several, in fact. Jaune, let me know when you two are ready to hand over the shield; I'll see about securing a vault for this purpose in the meantime."
"No problem, Inspector," Jaune affirmed.
As the door shut, Qrow finally moved past the front gate, and walked towards Kensington High Street tube station. He took his sweet time, observed Ren as he moved towards Pyrrha's front gate. Tiptoeing to the mailbox, Ren took out Watts's diary and wrote a note on the back of it's front cover; his radiant dangling off a chain clasped around his neck.
To Doctor Nikos,
Contained within is a confession from your late colleague, Doctor Arthur Watts, on certain actions he'd taken in years past that helped cause the events of the last few weeks take place. And I'd like to apologise for what happened to him. I was sent to peacefully convince him to not rat on the Grimm's survivors, but he was already murdered when I arrived. Please note that I have never killed another person before, and I'll never do so. If anything else happens to you or someone you know, I will turn myself into Scotland Yard and share with them what I've now shared with you – as a means of appeasement, I'd hope.
Sincerely,
Lie Ren, ex-member of the Grimm.
As Ren crept away from the house, Tyrian awakened in a ditch near the Blackfriars bridge. He strangely found that his wound had been bandaged. Standing up, Tyrian tried to focus, but could only see a blur at this point. Someone tapped him on the shoulder; Tyrian spun around, and in that instant his vision cleared. The smile the young woman in front of him harboured was crystalline, pure … and full of malevolence. It was the last thing Tyrian saw before a burly man throttled him.
At seven thirty that morning, Jaune and Pyrrha were both woken by the door bell. Quickly throwing on their dressing gowns, they greeted Qrow at the door.
"What brings you here so early, Inspector?" Jaune said drearily.
Qrow stiffened up.
"The bastard who attacked Dr. Nikos at the Museum has been found hanging off of Blackfriars bridge. Suicide, if the note in his pocket is any indicator. Also, I found this in the mailbox and read it."
He held up Watts's diary. "I dare say you lovebirds would want to take a look at all this."
Even though he expected to get slapped for that remark, Qrow didn't expect Pyrrha to dish it out.
A/N: The chapter's title means "Beauty and the Beast", for the record. First up, the soundtrack for this chapter serves as a delightful view into Tyrian's mind; "Caught In A Web" by Dream Theater.
Secondly, in response to Cooler's review, I'll say at this point that Watts was murdered because he knew too much about the whole Grimm situation. His death will make more sense later on, though.
Thirdly, I couldn't believe how high the view count jumped after A Purpura In Studium was published. The fic got 280 views in one freaking day, and 500 all up at the time of writing. I'm amazed and flattered that you guys are loving this so much.
Fourth, I'd been debating on whether to make Tyrian a Faunus who'd missed the injection and had a proper scorpion's tail, or if he was instead a crazed cultist with a weird weapon. Ultimately, picking the latter allowed me to introduce this AU's version of air Dust, and made sure I didn't spoil the original Belladonna Lilies story.
And lastly - for those of you who aren't from England - when Pyrrha thinks "I'll be friendlier to him - even if he did go to Cambridge", it's a reference to the fact that Oxford and Cambridge are the two oldest universities in England (and the second and fourth oldest in the world), and have been rivals for eight centuries as of the present day.
Anyway, I'll see you guys next time. Feel free to leave a review or a favourite!
