YAY, MORE CHAPTER AGAIN! Sorry we didn't update as much as usual last week. Medical issues and an unfortunate loss of internet took it toll. Anyways, enjoy~
~Angel and Hel~
Chapter Twenty Eight: Revenants Part II
-.-.-
You could never be as cold as your father, right?
You could never be as cold as the 'doctor', right?
You could never be as cold as the ice that fills your chest, right?
Just be careful not to get freezer burnt.
-.-.-
Maverick gave her one glance. "Welp, you're fucked."
Father stood there. Watching. Waiting. Expecting.
She'd straightened unconsciously. Her hair was a mess. She'd - oh god she'd cut it and she wasn't even trying to hide it. She had a scratch on her hand from putting it through the robot's face. Burn marks on her sleeves. A Dust burn across her cheek from where Blue had shot at her. Bruises from her fight with Maverick. At least, compared to him she looked immaculate… but she was standing next to him.
She -
She began the walk to her gallows.
Her father was not a tall man. She was taller than him, if barely. But every step she took brought him looming larger and larger into view until only a scant few feet separated them.
"Daughter."
"Father."
He nodded once. His hands unclasped from behind his back, fell to his sides. She relaxed, just a little, without thinking about it.
"You've cut your hair. It looks - " He paused. "Disorganised. But, with some work, I suppose it might look art deco, or… avant garde."
Winter swallowed hard. "I was in something of a hurry - "
"Speed does not excuse lack of precision."
"I -"
"Sup?"
Winter reacted, jumping and cringing at the same time, a tiny startled yelp escaping before she could contain it. She glared at him, hissing through her teeth, "Maverick!"
Father's head turned. The weight of his gaze shifted from her to Maverick for a moment, a long long moment which judged the pair of them, standing side by side, judged his clothes and weapons and face and -
"As I was saying, daughter, it is good to see you well. You did not inform me of your departure, of course." His gaze swung back onto her, like the turning hands of a great clock. A pendulum, tracing out her doom. "Though perhaps I can understand the reason why."
Winter withered.
"You have passed the initiation."
She nodded. It wasn't a question, it was a statement he expected as truth.
He nodded in reply, slower. His brows drew noticeably closer to each other. Something in her face - had she - had she nodded too quickly, cast doubt on it, what if he thought she was lying to him -
"And with flying colours too!" Maverick was wearing that damn awful grin, as though cracking jokes about her, the most influential man on Remnant's daughter, to his face, didn't even strike him as a slightly foolish idea. "Mostly red, though."
Father did not look away from her, but he pursed his lips. "I would like to speak to my daughter in private. You will leave. In return, I will make a transfer of ten thousand lien to your account each month."
Maverick simply stuck his hands in his pockets. "Double it and I'll think about it."
Father turned to look at him again. He looked for a long time, and then he spoke. "Maverick Wilson. You're the child of that police officer who died tragically in the line of duty… five years ago, I believe it was. Your father was a good man. Brave, foolhardy. But good." The way he said it wasn't a compliment. "Consider it tripled."
Maverick's eyes narrowed the tiniest bit as his grin started to show more teeth. It gave her images of that same grin on the rooftop in the rain and lightning. "A pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Schnee," he said, bowing the tiniest bit before firing off a half-hearted salute as he turned to leave. "Be seeing you, Ice Queen."
Father turned to look at her again. Her heart pounded in her ears.
He blinked, twice. "I've heard the initiation is very challenging." He nodded, just a little. His own little congratulations.
"I - " Winter swallowed just a little. "I thought - "
"You will be team leader of course."
"Teams haven't been announced yet - "
"Mm. Talk to James then. Become close to him if you can."
"Father - "
His gaze remained fixed on her. "Whichever way seems more appropriate, of course. Diplomacy over force for preference."
She hadn't - she hadn't expected approval. She hadn't prepared for approval. If he'd disapproved, she could have argued with him, could have - could have fought, could have had something to fight against. Not this.
"I am… proud… of you." A pause. A different tone. An unspoken 'I suppose' at the end. Not approval then. But support, nevertheless. Her heart clawed at her throat. "This took planning. And a small amount of skill." His lips twitched a little. "And dedication you have rarely shown elsewhere."
She felt so small.
"Weiss was quite upset to find you gone. Your call to her scroll was ill advised."
"I wanted to - to check something. And to let her know I was alive."
That was the wrong thing to say, that was the wrong thing to say -
"Why would you not be."
"Irrational fear. I apologise." Winter swallowed. She - she couldn't tell him the truth. He might start removing evidence, or - "I have been under great stress as of late." Good, good, keep it formal. Like Father at one of his many press conferences or interviews. "I… am still quite rattled from the -"
Her throat closed up. Her vocal cords refused to work. Dream. The Dream. Where I thought you and Weiss had died. She couldn't - her brain wouldn't - her mouth flapped -
"The initiation." He did frown then. A full frown. "You performed above average."
"I - " Her brain stopped again. Blue, grinding to dust. Maverick's red stained grin. Ash, split open by a Nevermore's claws. "I - "
His face was like a glacier, cracking and rumbling and drawing closer.
"Control yourself. You are - you will be the finest of them all. Understood?"
"Y-yes, Father. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize. Do better." His hand closed on her shoulder. "You will return home with me and bid a proper farewell to your sister. Then you will return. You will be top of your class. Every class. By a significant margin."
The prison door swung shut. Winter walked into the airship, and felt her mind shut itself down, even as Father continued to talk.
She could never escape him. She could never escape.
-.-.-
You have a responsibility, general. A responsibility to uphold the rights of the citizens.
People place their trust in you and what do you do?
Your best, of course.
But it's not always good enough, is it?
Go on. Prove me wrong.
I'm waiting.
-.-.-
Ironwood sighed and rubbed his temples. Schnee. Schnee Schnee Schnee. He had known Winter was going to cause trouble the moment she walked through the front gates. They always did and they always would be, it was simply in their nature to be disruptive in some form or another.
Orion Schnee, watching over his back. As the kind and generous benefactor that kept his military supplied with premium quality Dust at a fraction of the price, the stream of Lien coming from him did more than the yearly budget the school got from the government.
As such, the elder Schnee was allowed certain… doors to be opened that would otherwise remain closed to him. Class schedules, facility schematics, he could look through them at will. Could even suggest changes, though he hadn't used that power yet.
Ironwood hated that. 'Suggest', as though he would have the option of refusing. If he tried, or even acted like he was considering otherwise, the flow of support would dwindle. He hated being backed into a corner like that, forced to compromise the renown of his Academy. Hated Orion Schnee.
He couldn't just up and refuse Winter entry, either. She was skilled, talented. And perhaps, could grow out from under her father's thumb. If she didn't continue to act as a walking disaster. Beyond that, Orion appeared to approve of her attendance, and that was enough to make him nervous.
Orion Schnee's approval was not a good thing.
It was going to be an excruciatingly long four years until her graduation.
Case in point, Miss Azure pacing in her holding cell, disarmed, and kept under armed human guard, muttering to herself. He leaned forward and turned a dial, letting her voice fill the office.
"Stupid fucking bitch just - just rammed herself into the situation and brought that fucking Beowulf and knocked down the stupid building and -" Ironwood felt jaded, listening to her sobbing, but he forced himself to hear the rest. "It's all her fault. My fault for being stupid enough to think she was gonna actually stay. She's a Schnee. Schnees just do what they want for themselves. The bitch even took my gun. Even Red wouldn't do that…"
He'd seen it all in the Dream, of course, even from her perspective, but he couldn't read her thoughts. Her emotions, her feelings on the matter, were her own. And she was holding a grudge.
A reasonable grudge, in a sense. Being left to die wasn't pleasant. But her perspective was warped, by the pain and adrenaline.
He so so wished the Dream wasn't necessary. That he didn't know what lurked in the dark.
With a sigh, he got to his feet and shut down the terminal. It would be better to do this in person. Glynda had been quite furious with him earlier, storming in and demanding he face the consequences of his unique initiation method. He couldn't find it in himself to hold it against her.
The Dream was monstrous, and sometimes it backfired. But it was still better to have it than not. So they knew, in a sense. What he knew. Why he fought. Because that knowledge, that weight… he bore it so others wouldn't have to. That was the way it was.
Doors hissed open, not a moment too soon nor a moment too late. It was all very clinical, very… removed. Perfect, precision Atlas engineering.
It just didn't feel human.
Humans were prone to error by nature. Most mistakes could be fixed should they not be left to fester. It was only a short walk and a quick elevator ride to reach the holding cells. Miss Azure was still pacing in her cell, muttering, even screaming in anguish occasionally.
The guards straightened as he walked down the hall towards them. "At ease."
"Sir."
"Oh, great, I'm finally getting my judgement, am I?" Miss Azure called out sarcastically. There was a tone of pain, of betrayal, to her voice, and it twinged on James's conscience.
"Miss Azure," he began, standing in front of the bars. She was huddled against the back wall in a huff, glaring at him, her knees drawn up.
"General." She grumbled, looking away.
"I would like to personally apologise for what happened."
She frowned, genuinely confused. "Why? That bitch was the one who - "
"I was the one who put you in the Dream, knowing that you would die a horrible death one way or another." Ironwood confessed.
"... oh."
"While the Dream is horrific, and it's effects substantial -"
"No shit, sherlock."
"Miss Azure, please, I am trying to -"
"Trying to what? Convince me that she's not at fault!?" She leapt to her feet, causing the guards to train the guns on her. "SHE TOLD ME IT WOULD BE OKAY!" she shrieked, distraught.
Ironwood waited patiently for her to finish and calm down, if just a fractional amount. "I recognise that." He sighed. "It is also clear that you are unfit for duty as a Hunter."
"Big fucking whoop." Her voice trembled, and James could see that she was holding back tears as she fell against the wall and slid down it, returning to her curled up position. "Eve'yone tol' me I wasn' gonna make it, anyways…"
James sighed. "While you are unfit for duty as a Hunter, that does not mean you career in Hunting is over." He glanced around. "Is there no seating down here?"
"Uhh, no sir."
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I'll do something about that soon then. Miss Azure, you recently discovered your Semblance. Can you explain it to me from your point of view?"
"I get robots," she grumbled, "Just... robots. Like a second me."
"You share a hivemind-like presence with them?"
"Somethin' like that…" She said, not sounding too sure of herself. He couldn't blame her. She was distressed and he was using uncommon words to try describe her situation.
How to begin, though… 'I have a proposition for you'? 'There is an opportunity', no, no, no. None of those would work.
He turned to the guards again. "I'd like to speak with her alone."
"Yes sir." The guards saluted, stepping into the elevator. "We'll be up top of you need us."
"Thank you." He nodded, waited until they were out of sight, and out of earshot before pulling out his Scroll and pressing a button. Privacy. "Miss Azure, we only have a few moments so I'm going to make this quick. I need your assistance."
She frowned. "The fuck do you need my help for?"
"Your Semblance is unique -"
"Just like eeeveryone else's."
"Please stop interrupting me."
"Sorry, sir." Blue shrunk away slightly.
"As I was saying, your Semblance is unique, and quite useful. I have an… associate," he nearly spat the word, "Working on a Military R&D project involving robotics."
"You sound like you'd rather he wasn't."
"He's turned out to be a despicable man, and while his work is necessary, his methods aren't." Ironwood grit his teeth. All or nothing. "He would love to get his hands on you and your Semblance for his research. Which would be immensely useful for his final goal, but also presents an opportunity for me. To ensure he stays in line. What I want from you is to be my… undercover operative."
"Spy." She said simply.
Ironwood sighed. "Yes. I want you to be my spy. I can not let him continue as he has been, but investigating the matter myself is as good as announcing an inspection of troop quarters. They clean up for the inspection, and then go back to dirty habits."
Miss Azure looked left and right as though she had been expecting to do that exact thing. "Go on…"
"With the nature of his projects, he will likely be working very closely with you. His… last subjects have not been treated humanely and I want to ensure the changes I've told him to make are enforced properly. I want you to be my eyes and ears within his facilities to ensure he does not stray from the path again."
Blue grit her teeth and grimaced, rolling her head this way and that. "Urghhh… I guess I… I'm not going to be a Hunter ever, am I?"
"It is unlikely." Ironwood confirmed. "However, with appropriate training, you could become a highly ranked Special Officer in the Military. Not quite a Hunter, but not far off, either."
"... will I be getting paid for this spy stuff?"
Ironwood gaver her a look. "Of course you will."
"... sorry, stupid question. But I've still got a family back home to support, y'know…" she trailed off. Took a deep breath. "Okay. I'll be your spy."
"You agree to this knowing that in the worst possible scenario you could be locked away and inhumanely tortured until I can take action? I don't believe it will come to that… but it is a possibility."
"You already put me through that once, so yeah, let's do this thing." Miss Azure got up, rolling her shoulders and getting into stance. "... details still need to be sorted out, don't they…"
Ironwood nodded sadly. "They do. This will take time. I'll request a transfer to the accommodation block next to mine. Do not speak a word of this to anyone."
"Yes sir!" she snapped off a rather sloppy salute before sitting down on the bench. "Thanks… I guess."
"For?"
"For not just throwing me out in the cold…" she rocked back and forth. "I… I don't know what I was expecting after attacking her and being… locked up like this…"
"There is a reason final judgement is left to me." Ironwood smiled. "Thankfully there are few enough incidents I can attend to each personally. You have potential, and potential is the one thing in this world we must do our best not to waste."
-.-.-
You have to keep the mask up if you don't want your true colours to show…
Heh. True colours. Do you even know what they are anymore?
-.-.-
Maverick had lost his good mood.
The big gun just take it and jam it in his face there's no way to defend with aura with something so close -
He was mad.
Get behind him jam it in the base of his skull let the slug rattle around that empty head of his -
He was…
Shoot her for bringing him here show him how little his self-serving ways protect his future -
He shuddered. He couldn't have - if he did that he'd be -
The bastard. The bastard. Using his father's death against him. Threatening him. Self serving jumped up fucking prick, he was going to ram his hand down his throat and pull out his guts -
The Geist. That fucking Geist.
He could feel it clawing at the back of his mind.
Urges. Whispers.
Just a dream just a dream just a - oh fuck it, the thing actually came up with some pretty good plans for him to kill everyone. Grenade here, Dust charge there, bring down the whole front entrance. Mines in the backup escapes. One well placed detonation could bring the whole of the mountain down the side.
He'd finished walking back to the doors. Turned to look. Little Miss Schnee was running away with Father Dearest, running off home with her tail between her legs because goddamnit the bastard was untouchable.
Maverick wasn't an idiot. He knew the signs. Orion Schnee was a smug man. Quietly smug, the worst kind. He knew he could afford to piss off everyone. He knew he could afford to make enemies. And he did. God, did he make enemies.
No wonder the man had the highest bounty in the Underground on his head.
Close to forty million Lien, plus loot.
Heh, heads. Maverick was nearly a head taller than Winter and she was half a head taller than her father. Not a big man, yet looming all the same.
Maverick made his way through the crowd, dodging and weaving without breaking stride. Unlike the awkward and jarring Miss Schnee he was born in the chaos of the streets. With a police officer for a father, one tended to figure out all the ways to get on the wrong side of the law.
It was a pity, almost.
Now… where to find one psychotic wolf…
The Dream had been hard on her. She'd come out roaring and been put straight down by Valkha. Hm. Surprisingly lax security on the security. Eh, he figured they probably knew he had access to a TSO's datapad. They'd handed it right over, after all.
Sure it'd been to sign a nondisclosure contract but they hadn't asked for it back.
He scrolled through the list of occupants in the building. Stream Alpha… leaders, probably. Stream Beta… teamers, probably. Stream Charlie… no idea. Stream Delta… tech-heads. Stream Echo… obviously the stealth stream as there was only one name on the list.
Titian Cinerous. Location; Rec Room, level 31C.
Right at the bar. Perfect.
-.-.-
Well, at least you've found someone new to hate. That is what you're best at.
The darkness is coming and your fires can't put it out.
-.-.-
Titian sat at the bar, brooding. Her high collar cut off her view of others. No eye contact. Nobody challenging her. She nursed her Boilermaker, carefully taking another bitter, stinging sip. It had flavour. The flavour was admittedly mostly dirt and earth, but that was how good alcohol should taste.
Like rock and fire.
A set of footsteps approaching. New. Different. Familiar? The smell was familiar too. Air and gun oil, with a hint of sharp metal.
Maverick. Hmm. She wondered what he'd order.
"Hey, Bonfire," he muttered, patting her on the shoulder as he slid into the seat next to her. "I'll have one of whatever she's having."
An interesting choice. He seemed unhappy. And the nickname - she'd heard worse, she supposed. The pat was to be discouraged though. She grunted at him and took another sip of her drink.
"Got room for one more in the Schnee Hate Club?"
"White Fang doesn't recruit humans."
"Of course not, because then you'd be different from the organisations that don't recruit faunus."
"Faunus need to define their own voice. They can't do that with human input. Though a number of members of the White Fang would disagree with me."
"There does happen to be a difference between fighting for equality and fighting to be the oppressor for a change." Maverick grumbled, taking a sip of his drink. And choking slightly. "Goddamn, what is this stuff?"
"Pint of dark brewed ice-ale with a shot of three year malt." Titian took a slow sip. "It's good."
"It feels angrier than I do." Maverick chuckled, almost disbelievingly.
"Why are you here." She took another sip of her drink. She wanted to be alone. To plot and brood. Not to have this smelly little boy hanging -
"Well when Mr Schnee himself decides to spit on your father's grave and pay you for the privilege you tend to have a bit of anger to work through." Maverick replied evenly. "Can't say anybody who wants that bastard dead is in the wrong."
Her brain stopped. Her heart. He was - could he really be -
She took a gulp of her drink. "Is he still here?"
"Picked up the Ice Queen and left 'bout ten minutes ago." He sipped and grimaced. "Seems he's personally invested in seeing his perfect little girl succeed."
She slumped. She'd had - she'd had an opportunity to -
"He'll be back. Then we'll strike." She downed the rest of her drink. "I must prepare."
She'd have to be ready. She'd have to prepare the area.
"Good luck."
But she would kill Orion Schnee.
-.-.-
~R&R?~