Marrow remained incredibly stiff as he stared into the teleprompter just beyond the camera, his hands clasped behind his back. His fist was clenched so tightly that his flesh was turning several shades lighter around his palm as he dug his fingernails into his skin in frustration. He could tell that Jacques was smirking in his peripheral vision without even being able to see such details, and the notion only made his job even more difficult as he tried to continue speaking in a calm, clear manner.
"Robyn Hill can't be trusted," Marrow continued as he slowly began to walk alongside the bookshelves within Jacques' office. "Her dangerous rhetoric and selfish actions have already led to riots and demonstrations in Mantle that have blocked access to essential businesses, and her entire platform is based on obstruction. As a member of the Ace Ops concerned with the safety and security of all citizens of Mantle, I'm asking you to place your trust in the Schnee family."
Marrow paused just beside Jacques' desk, which had recently been straightened up and immaculately cleaned by the faunus himself. Whitley Schnee sat behind the computer, mimicking the action of typing as he leaned forward to peer into the monitor. Marrow took a sobering breath in through his nose, before trying his best to inject what little enthusiasm he could into his voice.
"The Schnee family has a well-known record of producing public servants, and Jacques Schnee is no different. Jacques is committed to bettering not just the state of Atlas, but Mantle, as well. He has dedicated his life to doing so, and he and his family have served and protected in the Atlesian military, Beacon Academy in Vale, and of course, by providing essential heating, electrical, communication, and general dust-related services through the S.D.C that we all rely on. Thanks to Jacques, even the next generation of the Schnee family is already hard at work on learning to serve you."
Whitley turned his head toward the camera as if on cue, feigning surprise as though he had somehow been caught hard at work and unaware in the middle of a commercial. The boy offered the camera a subtle smile and gentle wave, before immediately returning to his 'typing' as he leaned in toward the monitor. Marrow moved to the other side of the desk, standing near Jacques' wall of trophies and accolades as he read his next lines upon the teleprompter.
"Think of all you have to gain by placing your trust in Jacques," Marrow continued as he read ahead to prepare himself.
Suddenly, he hesitated, finding it nearly impossible to force the words out. Jacques leaned forward slightly in his chair, giving Marrow an annoyed look. Marrow clenched his teeth and swallowed hard before continuing on, his tone changing ever so slightly to something a bit sour.
"…Jacques Schnee creates jobs. In these uncertain times, few things are more important than a sense of safety and stability. Jacques is more than happy to continue affording those comforts to Mantle, despite Robyn Hill's efforts to upset those very basic and essential components of society. He provides opportunities for productive and well-paying work for the citizens of Mantle through various careers in the S.D.C., for both people… and faunus… I personally believe…"
Marrow paused, staring into the camera at a total loss as he watched his lines continue to scroll upward on the screen. After a few seconds, he made a noise of disgust and faced away, shaking his head as he bit his lip.
"Cut," Jacques ordered, rolling his eyes. "And here I thought we could do it in one. We'll have to splice the footage after he walks to the other side of the desk. Perhaps you should familiarize yourself with the script before trying again, my favorite sponsor?"
"How can you just sit there and listen to this with a smile on your face?" Marrow snapped as he looked over at Jacques, finally losing his cool. "This is the third commercial we've shot, and they've all been outright lies! What little truth is there is embellished, and the things you pat yourself on the back for are extreme basics that take no effort from you, or your company. This is all just a dishonest charade!"
Jacques began a slow clap before uncrossing his legs and standing from his seat. At a torturous, measured pace, he approached Marrow before slapping a hand down upon the faunus' shoulder. Jacques leaned in close to the side of Marrow's face, dropping his voice to a threatening whisper.
"Precisely. Welcome to politics. Generally not the place for a lost puppy, but in a pinch… you'll do."
Marrow dug his nails into his palms once again before reaching up to forcefully brush Jacques' hand from his shoulder while taking a step back.
"You're an asshole."
"An asshole currently holding your puppet strings," Jacques reminded. "And you're incredibly unprofessional. Perhaps I'll have a word with Clover about your conduct while within my estate. I'd suggest you keep your useless opinions to yourself for the rest of your time here. After all, how you actually feel doesn't matter. It never mattered, nor does it matter for any other faunus working for my company who takes issue with my methods. If you want access to my dust for whatever Ironwood wants to get done alongside my silence on the matter, you will play your part. That means reading this script exactly and enthusiastically, along with the others I have prepared. We're only about halfway done, after all, and I want to hear some fire once we hit the real attack ads against Robyn. Is that clear?"
"Crystal," Marrow spat as he once again shook his head. "I keep my promises. Unlike you."
The jab earned a chuckle from Jacques, who turned toward his camera crew and made a circular motion with one finger in the air.
"Alright, we'll call it here for fifteen minutes or so. Give my pet a little time to cool down. Come, it's just about time for lunch, anyway."
Marrow glared at the doorway as he watched Jacques and his collection of crew members leave the office. He no longer bothered to hide his disgust and anger as the last person exited the room, closing the office door behind them. Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice called out from behind him.
"…what are you so upset about?"
Marrow turned to find Whitley still sitting in his father's computer chair, his elbow atop the surface of the desk and his chin cupped in his hand. The adolescent wore a bored expression upon his face, as though Marrow was potentially the least interesting thing in the world to him.
"Excuse me…?" Marrow asked, softening his tone as he looked down at the boy in confusion.
"You're a faunus with a stable job and an opportunity today that most others of your kind would kill for, given the money attached. Who cares if it's all a lie? Just say your lines, go home, and you'll have to deal with him, what? Four, five times a year at most when you and yours are dragged to a party? Cry me a river. At least you're getting paid to be here," Whitley explained.
"It has nothing to do with the money," Marrow replied. "I'm doing this to help General Ironwood, not for myself. Still… it's uncomfortable. I can't stand being dishonest. I don't even feel right coming here without telling your sister, let alone acting like I want to do this for a camera."
Whitley's facial expression shifted to a scowl, and he turned back to the computer before beginning to type in earnest.
"Why would you even bother telling Winter that you're coming here? She left our family in everything but name."
"Not Winter," Marrow clarified as he leaned back against one of the bookshelves and folded his arms across his chest. "Weiss."
Whitley tensed up at the mention of his other sister's name, sucking in a deep breath through his nose as he opened some sort of spreadsheet upon the computer.
"…as if it makes a difference. What I said still applies."
"Weiss and I are… friends," Marrow offered with a shrug. "We've been spending time together since she arrived in Atlas, training and talking. She's r-"
"Good for you," Whitley interrupted. "I don't care. She and I might as well be strangers."
Marrow's face fell, and his tail drooped as he watched Whitley make several entries into the spreadsheet. Whitley paused once to rub at his temples, seemingly frustrated as he stared at a screen full of data. After the brief pause, he resumed entering numbers and doing calculations at breakneck speeds.
"You're not leaving to get some food?" Marrow tried. "I think everyone else is busying themselves with lunch…"
"I have work to do," Whitley replied in an exhausted tone. "Besides- Father seems to have forgotten to extend an invitation to me. What a surprise."
"Does that kind of thing happen often?" Marrow asked.
The only reply was another barrage of keyboard strokes as Whitley changed spreadsheets, working to fill more and more fields with seemingly incomprehensible text.
"You don't have a choice, do you?"
Whitley abruptly stopped typing and heaved a sigh before spinning his chair around to face Marrow.
"You're not going to leave me alone, are you?"
"No, I'm not," Marrow confirmed. "You're at least being civil to me unlike everyone else here, and it's pretty clear that neither of us is happy right now. So, let's talk."
"Why should we?" Whitley countered. "What reason do I have to believe that you actually care? You're supposed to hate me, and I've been raised to look down on you. It's easier if we just keep it that way, do our jobs, and return to our lives afterward. I have no reason to waste time with you right now."
"Then I'll give you one. You're not being paid for this, are you? Any of this? The commercial, whatever it is you're doing over there…"
"Of course I'm not being paid," Whitley answered, exasperated. "Why would I be? Everything I do is for 'experience,'" Whitley snarked, punctuating his words with finger quotes. "I need to learn to 'run the company' and 'everything I could ever want is paid for with company lien'. Company lien that is tracked down to the cent, and for business and living expenses only. Besides- I'm fifteen. This is my education, and my father is my primary instructor, as he puts it. No one gets paid to go to school."
Marrow approached the desk and held out his hand, giving the boy a look of sympathy.
"Looks to me like you're doing more work than your dad, right now. Can I see your scroll for a second?"
Whitley huffed and rolled his eyes.
"If I give it to you, will you leave me alone? I have a lot to get done. Data entry doesn't take care of itself."
"If that's what you want," Marrow agreed. "Promise. And I keep my promises."
"Right," Whitley said sarcastically as he retrieved his scroll from his pocket and slapped it down into Marrow's palm. "I've yet to meet an adult who does."
"I'm sorry for that," Marrow offered as he took out his own device. He tapped a few digital buttons while touching the side of his scroll to Whitley's. A moment later, a pleasant ding echoed throughout the office. "There. Now, you're being paid for today's work on the commercial. You have exactly what I'd be making for the day as an Ace, and honestly? I don't need it. Whether you're being paid to sit there and fill in a spreadsheet while I lean against the wall, or for talking to me until you father gets back is entirely up to you."
Whitley simply stared for a moment as his scroll was offered back to him. Slowly, he reached out and plucked the device from Marrow's hand, only to see a new transfer of lien directly into his personal bank account. By the time Whitley looked up, Marrow was already leaning into the bookshelf once again, his tail swishing softly behind him.
"…why?"
"You're being given company money, right?" Marrow asked with a shrug. "I'm sure your balance is being tracked. Take that as a gift and do whatever you'd like with it. I know it's not a permanent solution, but it's the least I can do for you while I'm here."
Whitley stared at the transaction for a few seconds longer before looking up to Marrow, feeling conflicted.
"I… thank you, I suppose? It's ultimately pointless, but… thanks. You didn't have to do that."
"But I wanted to," Marrow replied. "Neither of us is happy right now, but hopefully you now have a little something to smile about, behind your dad's back. If he's upset about it later? I'll consider that my bonus for the day."
Whitley chuckled softly despite himself and pocketed his scroll.
"…I've been guilty of that, a time or two…"
"Simple pleasures," Marrow agreed with a grin. "Fight back where and when you can. We're not as different as you might think, you know. You didn't choose to be born a Schnee any more than I chose to be born with a tail. That's true for every other faunus, and every other family. Why should I hate you just because of your name? Seems arbitrary and shortsighted to me. I'd rather talk to you, and do what I can to improve both of our situations."
"As if anyone would listen to my complaints," Whitley said sullenly. "I supposedly have it all."
"Except for what you actually want," Marrow finished for him. "You have a business in place of a family. You're the youngest, right?"
"I am," Whitley confirmed. "Which means that after Winter and Weiss got to leave the company, it fell upon my shoulders to carry it forward. In a few more years, this desk and I will be legally married by Atlesian standards."
"It looks that way now, but… who knows what the future holds?" Marrow proposed. "You could always sell off the 'Schnee' component of the dust company and pursue something you actually want to do. Once you have full control, nothing's stopping you from auctioning it off."
"By that point, I'll probably be too old to chase a dream," Whitley lamented. "And nobody cares."
"I think it's less about apathy and more about feeling like they can't help you," Marrow explained. "You're talking about your sisters, right? They probably feel just as powerless as you in terms of the S.D.C.'s future. They've washed their hands of it because they found themselves a support network outside of the family, and they don't want to look back. Leaving you on your own isn't right, but if you had the opportunity to get out cleanly… wouldn't you have taken it?"
Whitley shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
"…I want to say I wouldn't have done what Winter and Weiss did, but… I know the truth."
"I'll admit that I would've run, too," Marrow said softly. "And that's just a hypothetical. I haven't lived your life. I'm just guessing at what you're thinking, and how you really feel. I'm sorry about all of this, Whitley, for what it's worth. I know 'sorry' doesn't fix it, but… you've got my number, now. If you ever want to just talk, no matter what it's about, I'll make time. I can be your dark-skinned, dog-tailed big brother, from here on out. Can't you see the family resemblance?"
Whitley rolled his eyes and sniffled softly, before running his hand beneath his nose and turning away to face the computer once again.
"…like looking in a mirror. I… might actually take you up on that…"
"Good," Marrow replied with a smile, his tail whipping from side to side. "Maybe today's not a total loss, after all. If there's anything else I can do for you, just let me know, and I'll see if I can make it happen."
Whitley took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair.
"…anything?"
"Anything," Marrow insisted. "No matter what."
"Tell my sisters…" Whitley began, only to pause, leaving the office bathed in uncomfortable silence for almost a full minute.
"…what if instead, I set up a way for you to tell them what's on your mind?" Marrow offered. "Get the ball rolling to reconnect the three of you?"
"That sounds impossible," Whitley said, keeping his eyes on the monitor.
"I've faced those odds before," Marrow reassured. "Doesn't bother me. I'll talk to Weiss, and then see what I can accomplish with Winter."
Finally, Whitley turned his chair around again, looking incredibly vulnerable.
"Thank y-"
The sound of the office door opening caused Whitley to jump forward in his seat, while Marrow turned to look over to Jacques with a scowl on his face.
"Alright," Jacques declared as he escorted his camera crew back into the office. "Places, everyone. And Whitley- are you quite done yet? Honestly," the man asked as he gestured toward the computer.
Whitley turned to face the monitor once again, narrowing his eyes.
"…I will be soon…"
Author's Note:
Early chapter this week. Next time? Sun and Ilia…
-RD