Nothing to say this week.

Without further ado...

Chapter 18

Cinder had seen many an expression upon Glynda Goodwitch's face across the four or so months that she'd known the woman. The stern expressions of the disciplinarian she was as a teacher. The gentler expressions of the woman she was beneath that, the woman who had aided her and her teammates, helped them to find their place in Beacon.

And now… now Cinder was seeing something entirely different.

The look of a child caught with their hand in the proverbial cookie jar.

"M-Ms. Schnee," Glynda sputtered out. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I…" It was quite clear to Cinder that Winter Schnee had not expected to be having this conversation either, for she looked just as shocked. "I had been meaning to visit my sister in Beacon for the past few months, and General Ironwood sought to give me time off… including giving me the reservation he'd set up for dinner this evening, seeing as how he saw no need to attend himself."

The woman sitting across from Cinder went white as a sheet, even as she let out a quiet "Ah."

Winter Schnee seemed rather caught between a variety of options in that moment, one of which, if Cinder was correct, was the option to simply turn away and pretend as if she'd seen nothing at all. This seemed to be winning out in the woman's mind…

Well, up until she turned, fully noticed Cinder, and her brow drew down.

"And who's this?"

Cinder could've said quite a bit in that moment. Could've tried to lie, claim herself Ms. Goodwitch's date for the evening, and then assuredly angered the woman across from her. So instead, she decided to be honest.

"My name is Cinder." She said simply, inclining her head towards the Schnee, doing her utmost to not let her internal strife towards the upper echelons of Atlas show. "I'm a student of Ms. Goodwitch."

"Ah, I see." Winter Schnee muttered under her breath, before the woman looked at the two of them, truly looked, back and forth, back and forth, seemingly caught on something. "And… what are the two of you doing here together?"

Ms. Goodwitch, once more, seemed caught, unable to come up with anything to say, and Cinder…

She hated seeing the woman so torn.

And of course, it was the Schnee's fault, wasn't it? The accursed rich girl of Atlas. Always so prim and proper, always so high in the sky.

Above mantle. Above the downtrodden and put down. Above the Faunus they worked to death in their mines. Above the slaves their people kept. Always turning a blind eye to the real corruption trying its best to stare them down.

Cinder felt that age old anger rearing its head, and so, without really meaning to, she allowed some of that bitterness to filter into her.

"I fail to see how that's any of your business." Cinder replied icily.

The Schnee's eyes widened, even as she looked between the two of them in a different light, obviously somewhat perturbed.

"Then, you two are…" In the next moment, Winter Schnee shook her head. "No, You're correct. I've no business in this." The woman bowed her head. "…Have a good evening, you two."

And then, just as quickly as she'd arrived, Winter Schnee was gone, heading off towards the upper floor, where the exorbitantly wealthy – beyond even Cinder's means (well, unless she felt like living on nothing for the next month or so) to pay for – spent their time.

Cinder had half a mind to spit on the woman's dress, though she refrained from doing so largely because she didn't quite feel like having to explain that to anyone present.

Least of all the shellshocked woman still sitting opposite her, who even now looked trapped, completely exposed in her seat, even as she weakly called out to the woman who was now too far away to hear her.

"Wait, Winter–"

Her call fell on deaf ears, and thusly it was that the two of them were sat alone once again.

Neither of them spoke; though Cinder did her best to try and conjure up some magical thing to say that could somehow save this little venture of hers. Nothing came, although the food they'd ordered finally did. The waiter from earlier attempted to make small talk, though it became clear his jokes weren't quite landing, and he made his way away in haste, bowing politely to them.

Honestly, Cinder might leave a rather sizable tip just for that.

They ate in silence as well. After what felt like an eternity, though was more than likely a mere five or ten minutes, Glynda spoke.

"I… Ms. Fall…"

Ah, right… She would still be turning her down now, wouldn't she?

"Forgive me, but…"

Cinder braced herself.

"I think I may have to head back to Beacon."

And then she rapidly unbraced herself, looking up at the woman before her, who looked quite troubled.

"Is something the matter?"

"Ah, well…" Clearly something was, though Cinder had the feeling the woman wasn't about to tell her just what that thing was. "I'm simply not feeling very well all of a sudden. My humblest apologies. I just…"

Cinder didn't quite know what to say. Well, that wasn't true. She knew what she needed to say, though what she wanted to say was something else entirely.

Why? Was what she wanted to ask. Instead, she said. "Of course. Would you… like me to walk with you?"

"No, no, please," Glynda said as she stood in her spot, wincing slightly as she reached down towards her stomach, clearly not faking her condition. "I would want you to enjoy your meal, and besides, I think… I think I need some time to myself at the moment. Thank you for dinner, it was lovely."

And before Cinder could say anything else, Glynda had placed down a good three hundred lien onto the table, and made her way out of Villa Avitas.

Cinder was left alone, staring at the woman out of the window as she made her way towards the central street, and thusly, to the airdocks.

…

Cinder was… she was caught between an awful lot of feelings in that moment. Unsure of quite where she stood.

On the one hand, she'd not gotten turned down. At least not officially. It was clear where Glynda Goodwitch stood, but she'd never actually voiced that to her. Some part of her mind thought of that as a victory, though Cinder was quick to call that part of her mind an imbecile and sequester it away from the rest of her.

No. As much as she'd hoped things wouldn't go this way… it was clear, above all else, that Cinder had lost.

…No… not lost. She… this wasn't a game to be won.

That was clear, at least, from the way her chest ached.

Something had happened to her. Something was wrong with her. She'd gone and… and what, become infatuated with this woman!? It was idiotic, it was foolish, and more than anything, it was entirely unlike her. She was not the type to be swayed by… by…

By gentle reassurances, and a tenderhearted smile, with a hand atop her own that lit a fire in her that was oh so different to the rage and the hate that normally burnt–

STOP IT! She mentally screamed, letting out a shaky breath as she placed her hands on the table, reaching over and pouring herself another glass of wine.

Her food still sat in front of her. She'd ordered some Mistralian dish made from cheese, sauce, and breading, along with a variety of greens as a topping. It was delectable – as Roman had said it would be – but…

She bit down on the inside of her mouth.

She downed the entirety of the glass in her right hand, and then panted as she pulled away for breath.

She felt no better.

No, more than that, she wanted to scream, and shout, and bring this entire restaurant to the ground in a raging torrent of flame. She recognized in that moment the truth of Salem's words, that she was too affected by her emotions, too easy to put on the back foot.

It didn't help. The alcohol didn't either, especially when the waiter came back, and, seeing her alone, asked her quietly if she'd like the check.

She nodded blankly, without any fight.

She was out of Villa Avitas' doors within five minutes, trudging along the cold streets of Vale lacking the energy to do… anything. She felt… hollow. She'd spent her entire day, twelve hours, preparing for this. Trying to make sure that when this moment came, she'd be entirely ready for it.

And it'd gone terribly, hadn't it?

She couldn't hold back on the way her fists crumpled; the way heat blazed across her palm. She reached out towards a mail delivery box to her side and bent the metal effortlessly, scarring it with the shape of her palm.

It wasn't enough. It didn't help an iota.

She seethed audibly as she walked, her breaths coming out in visible puffs of air from the cold. She barely noticed it herself, even clad in the simply sleeveless dress she'd acquired for her evening.

No. It wasn't cold. Not truly. Cinder had felt cold, cold that had made her want to give up, to lie down and die. This? This was nothing.

People moved around her, uncaring of her plight. It was a mishmash of all different sorts. Older folks enjoying the air, families off to the shopping district, young couples skipping along, so drawn into each other by the weather that they clung to one another.

Half of the maiden's power blazed within her, and she wanted nothing more than to heed it, to reduce the block around her to cinders, to kill each and every sorry fool who'd happened to come before her in that moment…

…

Why?

Why would hurting those people make me feel better?

It was… Cinder didn't particularly know where the question came from. What depths of her mind it'd sprung out from, and yet… there it was, presented to her clear as day. She thought of hurting these people, and it was like…

Cinder looked away, sighing out, and forming another brief cloud of vapor in front of her face, even as, in the next moment, she stepped forward, and blended in with the crowd.

Just another face. Just another name.

No one.

Entirely invisible.

/

Arriving back at Beacon was a bit of an odd experience for Mercury.

For one, everyone else aboard their little flight seemed relieved. Each of them had let out big breaths, like it was a breath of fresh air to be back at Beacon, and not the other way around, like it was for him.

Because back at Beacon, he could no longer pretend to be someone else.

Mercury Black. That was who he was again.

He made to break off from the group fairly immediately, although his efforts were in vain as Blake stepped in tandem with him, walking alongside him and shooting him a questioning look as he tried to shoo her away.

"Talk."

"No." He answered, not looking at her.

"You avoided me back in Domremy. I'm not letting you slink away again."

In that moment, for perhaps the first time, Mercury felt angry towards Blake. Actually, truly angry.

Blake thought she knew him. That he was just like she was. That, just like she had, he had been offered a second chance. Forgiveness for his sins.

He hadn't been.

And so, with a fury in his heart that he knew the girl beside him wasn't responsible for, he rounded on his companion.

"How about you leave me the fuck alone, huh!?" He growled out, standing firm as the woman briefly recoiled away from him. "Slink off to your little team and stop bothering me!"

Blake paused there, a look on her face he couldn't quite decipher, before determination fit across her brow.

"I'm not going to abandon someone who needs help."

"Is that what you think!?" Mercury spat out, idly aware that a few people nearby were watching him, tracking him with their eyes, listening in on their conversation. Mercury couldn't find it in himself to care. "That I'm some sad sack of shit who needs to be helped!? Some little kid who can't take care of himself!?"

"No." Blake whispered under her breath, with a little lilt at the back of her voice like she was affected by this, though Mercury knew not why. "Because the first time I saw the look in your eyes, I watched haplessly as it turned to cold indifference. As it turned to manic glee, as the person I loved and cared about became something different because of it."

Mercury… he didn't know what the girl was talking about, though obviously it related to the White Fang. He was tempted to cut the girl off, but some part of him, perhaps the same piece that had wanted to help at the festival, refused to let him.

"And the second time… with Il–" The girl cut herself off from speaking a name, though from Mercury's tertiary knowledge, he couldn't think up anyone in the White Fang. "…I ran. I ran like I always run. I didn't help them."

The girl looked up at him, steel in her gaze.

"I'm not running away. Not again. Even if I have to sit here and peck away at the walls around your heart, I'll do it."

Mercury just stared at Blake, even as a few people nearby whispered among themselves, evidently misreading the girl's words. Mercury was fairly sure that according to the Beacon rumor mill, Blake and he were likely star-crossed lovers, fated to never be together.

Back in reality, though, it was all Mercury could do to let out a sad little breath, to shake his head and try and pretend he was unaffected. Something came to him then, a way for him to lighten the mood, to run away, and he took it without a second thought.

"…Was that a line from one of your books?"

"…Yeah, actually." Blake said with a quiet chuckle. "It was. Sappy romance novel I read when I was twelve. It was corny, but I liked the line."

"A romance novel, eh?" Mercury raised an eyebrow teasingly. "Still sure you're not hitting on me?"

"Still sure." Blake shook her head, a mirthful grin adorning her lips. "Like I said, had my edgy boy phase."

There was a moment that passed between the two of them then, and odd sort of thing that Mercury couldn't really describe, before finally, the woman across from him let out a long and aching sigh.

"Alright, I won't interrogate you right now," Blake said. "But I'm not giving up here. You're getting a break from this conversation. But you're not escaping it."

Mercury just…

He laughed a sad little laugh, and then nodded his head.

"Yeah, sure."

And then he turned around as quick as could be and made his way back towards his dorm.

"Later." He waved lazily.

He could feel Blake's eyes boring into his back even as he moved further and further away, and they only left him when he rounded a corner and disappeared back into Beacon's corridors.

/

His scroll rang.

This was not at all a surprise, of course. Headmaster Ozpin had been counting down the minutes for around an hour now, sipping on the cup of coffee he'd procured and solving the day's crossword, for this very call. Even so, he made sure to finish the particular line he was on – eleven spaces; a dangerous woman unafraid to use her wiles to her benefit. He wrote in 'Femme Fatale' – before he answered his scroll.

"James," Ozpin said with a smile towards one of his most trusted confidants. "A pleasure to hear from you."

"Let's skip the formalities, my friend." James spoke with a roll of his eyes. "You said that you had something urgent to report. Is it what I fear it is?"

Ozpin let out a sigh, even as he nodded his head.

"The Fall Maiden's condition is worsening by the day. The specialist we have working on her has confirmed that her chances have declined rather sharply from out last estimate. She has perhaps until the end of the next semester, and that is at best."

The man on the other end of the line hummed in acknowledgement, even as he allowed his normally rigidly straight posture to slip somewhat. It was clear he was not taking this news lightly, and that was, in Ozpin's eyes, the correct approach.

"So, what shall we do?"

"Your device, the aura transfer machine… is it stable enough to be used in this scenario."

"It's hard to say." Ironwood answered honestly, shaking his head. "On the one hand, we've had mostly successful tests when transferring pieces and parts of someone's aura from one to another, but it behaves like an aura amplification semblance would. That person gives up a piece of their aura to bolster another's. It then builds itself back up and becomes like it never happened at all. To entirely move another's aura, permanently, is… not particularly what we designed it for, even given that I suggested this in the first place."

Ozpin nodded. "Do you believe you could have it working before Fall's passing? As you well know, we cannot afford these powers going to the most likely candidate."

"We cannot afford the powers going to the one who stole them, for the Maiden's magic to try and gravitate towards its lesser half." Ironwood confirmed, sighing as he ran a hand down his face. "I may be able to have the device running by that time, though running smoothly might be out of our reach. I'll contact Doctor Polendina, see if I can't get him onto this project."

Ozpin was glad to hear that. Doctor Polendina would have quite the repertoire of experience in this matter, given that his Semblance was the permanent moving of aura into another. It had allowed the P.E.N.N.Y. project to come into existence, after all. Added onto that, he was perhaps the world's foremost researcher into matters of aura.

He was, for all intents and purposes, a veritable shoe-in.

"That sounds excellent, my friend."

"In the meantime, have you any candidates for the maiden's power?"

Ozpin knew the next words out of his mouth would not be particularly popular.

"I have a first year who I may choose, but–"

"Ozpin, really?" Ironwood sighed out. "A first year? Could you not take from the fourth or third years, at least?"

"This one is particularly skilled." He said, thinking on Ms. Nikos' recent showings.

The man eyed him suspiciously. "It's not Summer's daughter, is it?"

"No." He whispered under his breath, his memory momentarily slipping, his mind travelling back in time. "No. I do not believe in mixing two different magics together in that way. Not even I know quite what might happen."

"You've never had a silver-eyed maiden before?"

"No. They were already a rarity when Salem and I were first pitted against one another, even moreso once she began culling them off. It simply never came up. Summer was the closest that we ever came to that eventuality, and… well, suffice it to say that I believe her daughter does not need two targets on her back."

Ironwood hummed, even as the man eventually relented. "I still believe it should be someone older. More experienced. If you would allow me to talk to Winter, I truly believe–"

"We've discussed this, James," Ozpin said, eyeing the man but treading carefully. "Winter's loyalties are too focused for a Maiden."

"I would protect her."

"And what if something happened to you?" Ozpin said, leaning forward and looking the man straight in the eye. "What if a scenario arose where the choice came between Winter and Atlas? Between the Maiden's power in Salem's hands – access to one of the relics – and your people."

"I would choose Atlas. That is obvious."

"Mm." Ozpin said. "The world could not afford such a choice, nor would I put you in a situation where Salem might make you make that choice. Besides, you know of my intention to separate the Maidens, that way Salem cannot simply use all her power on one point. Believe me when I say that not even the might of Atlas would survive a prolonged siege from her."

Ironwood laughed heartily. "I would beg to differ, old friend."

You would not be the first. Ozpin thought but did not say.

Left unsaid was that Ozpin also did not particularly trust anyone, not even himself, with multiple Maidens. That was simply too much power for one person to wield. The kind of power that might give the fallible minds of men ideas.

Ozpin would know. He'd been a king more than once upon a time.

"Regardless, you have my answer. Winter cannot be the Fall Maiden."

"And you have my suggestion. It should not be some seventeen-year-old who's barely lived at all. Someone's who has no concept of the horrors of the world, of the things they may have to do."

Ozpin wanted to argue against that, but really, how could he? Everything that Ironwood had said was the same as he felt deep down.

And yet, Ozpin had learned much during the thousands of years he and Salem had warred. And he had learned that his enemy did not much care for his wants or desires. For his mercy and reluctance to use her same tactics against her.

The older the Maiden, the more likely it was that they would defect, or leave, or run away. That had been the case with Spring. And it had been the case with Fall. Travelling about. Wandering the countryside. She'd always loved her freedoms, Amber. And…

And look where it had gotten her.

Someone younger, someone he could keep in Beacon, under his watchful eye, someone he could make sure got the training they needed, was warned of the risks, of what was at stake… surely, as Ironwood had said, perhaps he could give the power to a fourth year, but then…

Then they would leave so very soon.

And he'd learned quickly that it drew attention when he played favorites. A lifetime ago, he'd appointed a student of his to his teaching staff upon their graduation, and Salem had sent an agent to slaughter them, rightfully believing them to be the Summer Maiden. That said agent hadn't managed to steal the power away had been a miracle.

But it had still cost him the life of his student.

Ozpin was not eager to have that happen again.

Still, something occurred to Ozpin in that moment. A possibility he'd not yet considered, something that'd come to him the other day and drawn a smile, perhaps a small chuckle.

There was something there, wasn't there? Something he could use. Loyalty, no, something more than that.

And Ozpin's eyes widened.

"Actually James… I think I may have a candidate who meets both our criteria."

"Oh?"

"I would need to do further research, background checks and the like, but… They may just be who we're looking for."

Ironwood seemed surprised, though the man knew better than to think him pulling some form of prank. He simply nodded his head, and, seemingly out of time judging by the way he looked off to his side for a moment, spoke quickly.

"Excellent. I suppose I'll leave you to it, then. For now, I'm required elsewhere."

"Mm." Ozpin took up his mug and held it up in front of him. "For the sake of the world."

Ironwood shook his head mirthfully, before reaching to his side, and taking a thermos from outside of frame.

"For the sake of the world."

The two of them mimed clinking the drinks together before the feed cut out.

And Ozpin slumped in his chair, letting out a tired breath as he took another sip of coffee.

He looked down, towards the numerous papers strewn about in front of him, and silently pondered why he'd ever thought becoming the headmaster of a school would be a good idea.

Oh, think of how easily I'd be able to influence the next generation of Huntsman! He'd thought. They'll be much better prepared, greater warriors under my tutelage!

He'd not thought of the paperwork.

And oh, how he regretted that.

/

For the first time in a week, Mercury found himself back inside the Chamomile dorm room.

It wasn't a terribly fulfilling feeling, though it also wasn't as horrible as he'd been expecting it to be, either. Say what one would about their conduct, of what they might one day do, but Mercury had grown… perhaps familiar was the word he'd use to describe the space and the people within it.

It wasn't necessarily good, or anything, but he was used to it.

It was strange, though. Despite sharing the space with three others, it was honestly quieter than his room alone in the Arc house had been. Perhaps that was due to the sheer number of people – nearly twenty – who'd been staying inside the large home the arcs lived within, but…

For some reason, Mercury didn't quite think it was that.

No, Emerald and Cinder were… silent. The both of them seemed to have something on their minds, for they hadn't so much as said a word when Mercury had gotten back. Oh, they'd given him a cursory glance, but other than that, they'd gone right back to curling up into little angst balls, which seemed like a fairly consistent thing that Chamomile engaged in.

Mercury himself had never tried it, but perhaps he should one of these days.

So those two weren't making much noise.

And of course, Neo had a problem making noise in the first place.

The girl had seemed almost glad to see him when he'd arrived, coming up to him and hugging him tightly. He'd have been almost weirdly flattered if he hadn't felt his wallet being pulled out of his pocket, and he'd simply sighed as she slapped the girl's hand away, watching as she giggled and sashayed away.

So, Mercury felt, effectively, alone, which was honestly a good thing.

It gave him the time to do something dumb.

No one commented as Mercury brought out the item from the trash bag he'd brought as luggage. Nor as he moved over to the door, and began tying and fastening certain pieces and parts. Funnily enough, Neo even walked over, and began helping him to string it up herself.

He was… grateful, really, even if that felt stupid to say about a hardened killer.

Though he supposed those in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.

Still, a few minutes later, and Mercury observed his handiwork. He flipped the switch, before realizing nothing would happen without power. Neo was already ahead of him, however, for she took the plug hanging off of it and stabbed it into the outlet on the wall, just behind the dresser.

And the whole thing lit up.

It wasn't much, Mercury would admit that. It was only enough to cover the trim around their door. But…

It had been a gift, given to him by the people he'd helped some nights ago. By the old men and women who'd appreciated his help, and had, seemingly, seen him paying such rapt attention to one particular piece of the festivities.

And so they'd sought to give back.

Mercury observed the flashing lights on the string, the bulbs that pulsed with red's and green's and yellow's and blue's. They weren't very bright, but they gave the dorm a sort of festive hue.

He honestly waited for Cinder to say something about it, to veto his little idea before he could even get it off the ground, but the woman took one look at the door, contemplated for a moment, and then said, "Hm. It adds a certain warmth, doesn't it?"

And so that was that.

Still, Mercury was unable to hide the way that his lips curled almost against his will. He saw the way that Neo beside him stiffened in surprise at that.

He was lucky Cinder hadn't seen.

Even so, that tiny fire in his breast, the little aching warmth within him, it only served to add further questions to Mercury's already frayed mind.

But perhaps he could consider those in the morning.

And so, he and Neo, and Emerald and Cinder too, turned off the lights. The string of winter festival lights lit the room only barely, creating a warm glow, just like Cinder had said, that didn't brighten the place enough to keep any of them awake.

And so, Mercury laid his head down upon his overly soft pillow. He pulled the fluffy comforter – which had always seemed too much to him – up around his body. And, lacking any more fight, he closed his eyes.

He was out within a minute.

His sleep was peaceful.

/

James Ironwood had been planning to relax for the last hour of his evening before bed. Perhaps he'd watch the news while enjoying a touch of hot cocoa – which had been a suggestion from Dr. Polendina, who'd informed him rather blasély that the caffeine in coffee was not what the leader of a nation needed – or he'd simply call it an early night.

It had been such a simple plan.

His work scroll rang.

He answered the moment he saw who was calling, feeling his heart begin to beat a little bit faster.

"Specialist Schnee." He began. "I wasn't expecting a call. Is everything alright?"

"Yes," His right hand responded, allowing him to let out a slow breath of relief. "Of course, sir. I apologize, I regret that I did not think to call you on your personal line."

"It's fine, Winter." He said, too relieved to really be bothered. "How is Vale? Probably a touch more hospitable than things here in Atlas?"

"It is far warmer," Winter responded with a nod through the video call. "Though it is still cold in general."

"And did you get to see your sister yet? I know you'd been curious to see how she was doing."

"Ah… Not yet, sir. I'll be dropping by Beacon on the morrow."

"Mm. Then what has you troubled?" He decided to broach the subject. "You've a strange look in your eye."

"I… that's…" Winter sighed the sigh of someone with far too much on their plate. Ironwood would know, he'd been there quite a few times himself. "I have something rather… odd to inform you of."

"Oh? And what would that be."

If General Ironwood was being honest, the information Winter fed him then was just about the last thing he could've possibly expected.

"Glynda Goodwitch is seeing someone else."

"…What?"

End Chapter 18

We have entered the wacky zone here in Paved with Bad Intentions.

Like I said earlier, very little to say. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter though!

See you all next week!