Emerald sat at the table in the kitchenette, drumming her fingers nervously atop the wood. Despite her touch being incredibly light, each tap against the surface hit her nerves as though they were gunshots in the otherwise silent apartment. Even so, she couldn't bring herself to stop. Only one of two things could possibly happen next, and the woman wasn't looking forward to either of them.
Sudden soft footfalls shifted across the floor, each slow and methodical to avoid the creaky floorboards. A dark figure appeared within the doorway to the kitchen after what felt like an eternity of shuffling noises, and Emerald held her breath as she waited to see whether or not the person was alone. After staring hard into the darkness behind Cinnamon and letting her eyes adjust, she found no other figure, and let out a sigh of relief.
"Took you godsdamned long enough," Emerald hissed in a low whisper as she planted her hands into the surface of the table and stood up. "What the hell were you doing in there?"
"Getting answers," Cinnamon said in an equally hushed tone as she hurried toward the apartment door and began to lace up her combat boots. "Our fearful leader left a journal upon his nightstand full of rather… interesting information."
Emerald's nervousness intensified as she pulled on her white studded jacket and began putting on her own boots. She gave the taller woman an incredulous look, as though the faunus had suddenly sprouted multiple heads.
"You went up to his nightstand?" Emerald asked furiously. "What was your plan if he woke up? And why the hell would Watts keep a journal?"
Cinnamon merely shrugged, totally unbothered by Emerald's judgmental glare as she opened the door to the apartment and stepped out into the hallway. The woman took out her scroll and powered it down, nodding toward Emerald to do the same.
"Scrolls off for the rest of the night, starting now. Watts and Scarlet should be out cold until morning, considering what I slipped into their drinks earlier… but it's safer to keep our devices in our sight. I'm no stranger to sneaking around sleeping men, so I wasn't exactly worried. As for the journal… it makes a good bit of sense, really. Someone so adept at breaking into technology would be hesitant to trust their thoughts and plans to anything digital. Pen and paper can't be hacked."
Emerald furrowed her brows as she considered the notion. With a simple tap, she turned off her scroll and pocketed it, only to find Cinnamon already rounding the corner in the hall.
"Hey, slow down!" Emerald called as she jogged to catch up to the faunus. "This should be low-risk!"
"Low-risk or not, I want to get away from the apartment," Cinnamon muttered. "I may be good at sneaking through bedrooms, but it isn't exactly pleasant. Memories I'd let go of if I could."
"…one too many wild nights at an Academy?" Emerald joked as the pair made their way out of the building and onto the streets of Mantle.
"…an Academy," Cinnamon said flatly as she kept her eyes on the path ahead. "Hilarious. No, I was a prostitute from a young age. I did it for the sake of survival and keeping my father alive. Petty thievery might have sustained me, but there was no way I could steal enough to afford his medication and remain undetected. Thanks for playing, though."
Emerald found that she was unsure as to what to say while she kept pace with Cinnamon. Neither woman said anything as they veered onto the side street and began walking toward the wall surrounding the city. As they reached the barrier and began to follow the curve to parts unknown, Emerald finally let out a sigh, her breath visible in the frigid night air.
"…I'm sorry…"
"Don't be," Cinnamon replied as she shook her head. "I'm well aware that you didn't have it easy, and you're in no way responsible for what the S.D.C. did to my family. Watts has let some things slip about you."
"I'm sure he has," Emerald acknowledged with an iciness in her tone. "But that's not important right now. What did you find in his journal…?"
"Not enough to make it worthwhile, to be honest," Cinnamon lamented as she lowered herself to sit with her back against the wall in a spot covered in shadow. "He doesn't exactly have an evil ledger detailing his grand plans or Salem's intentions for this place… but he does have calculations. Notes. Blueprints and schematics tucked within the pages. That device we put up onto that tower? It's a signal relay, as well as a jammer. For whatever reason, it's feeding looped broadcasts collected from Atlesian archives back to the tower. Apparently, it's there to prevent any new information from coming into Atlas through that specific site… but I'm not sure why."
Emerald took a seat next to her companion and wrapped her arms around her knees, pulling them close to help stave off the cold.
"…Argus?" the thief guessed, her uncertainty clear in her voice. "It's the only place close enough to pick up signal anymore. I'd imagine the towers sending and receiving to Sanus, the rest of Anima, and Vacuo are down right now. It'd be a waste of resources to keep them manned and powered."
"It would," Cinnamon agreed. "Though you would think reestablishing communications with the rest of Remnant would be a priority for Ironwood. Maybe Watts knows something we don't, and the device is a preventative measure? The only way to find out would be to ask someone up in Atlas directly, and I've already burned my best trick for contacting Sun."
"…you contacted Sun?" Emerald asked. "You know, I'm getting really tired of you telling me things that I can't prove to Watts, and each one getting more ridiculous than the last."
"Then let it be your turn," Cinnamon offered. "Tell me why you've been leaving at night. Surprise me."
Emerald rolled her eyes and began to loop one of her hanging strands of hair around her finger absentmindedly.
"It's… not that much of a surprise. I've just been up to my old tricks. Stealing. Jacques Schnee has been closing down dust shops in Mantle, claiming that Ironwood is squeezing him and taking a bigger cut of raw dust for the military. It's a solid strategy- the people down here are pissed, and Jacques is making the claim that if he wins the council seat, he can provide the solution to the problem he created himself."
"Clever bastard," Cinnamon muttered. "Any idea if it's true?"
"None," Emerald replied with a shake of her head. "But it doesn't matter- what matters is that with the shops closed, security is lax. I can get in and out with my semblance under cover of night and peddle dust that Jacques doesn't even know is missing on the black market. I've made a good bit of lien since we arrived. That's how I got this jacket and these chaps."
"They look good on you," Cinnamon offered. "But I sincerely doubt you're the type to go through all that trouble for a bit of clothing."
Emerald leaned forward slightly and rested her forehead against her knees.
"…I guess… I've got nothing to lose by telling you everything. You've already got dirt on me, so… I'm getting up enough lien to disappear."
Cinnamon was silent for a long while before stretching a leg out and leaning the back of her head into the wall.
"…good luck. Let me know when you plan to run, and I'll cover for you."
"What…?" Emerald asked as she raised her head to look over to the faunus.
Cinnamon had her eyes on the floating city high above, paying her partner no attention whatsoever.
"You're insignificant in the grand scheme of things for Salem. Whatever she's planning, she doesn't need a teenage thief with a chip on her shoulder to get it done. You can get out, and from what little I know about you… you've suffered enough to have earned it. Cut and run. I wish I could. Just tell me one thing… why now?"
Emerald let her strand of hair go and leaned her head back to close her eyes, well aware that she was being stared at.
"…you saw what's happening to Cinder. Cinder is… I guess, Cinder was everything to me, for a long time. She took me in, and for years, she kept me going. She's the reason I was able to make anything of myself, and now she's…"
Emerald trailed, unmoving as she opened her eyes to look up at Atlas.
"So, Salem is that sort of leader," Cinnamon said airily. "Can't say I'm surprised. Executing the underlings when they stop being useful. What did she do, exactly?"
"Well, she… went against orders at Haven," Emerald began to explain. "She took things into her own hands for a personal vendetta, and then she… we all thought she died there. Afterward, Mercury- a friend of mine- he kept trying to insist that Cinder never cared about me beyond my semblance. He made some good points, but I still don't really know… and now he's in Sanus, and Cinder came back to us only to be strung up and left out of any crews. At this point, I have to assume she's dead, or will be soon. I've got no one to rely on anymore…"
"So you're trusting yourself to get out of the situation she got you into," Cinnamon finished.
"…yeah," Emerald agreed. "That, and I've been feeling… guilty. Like I brought this upon myself, and like some of what's gone on the past year or so has been too far. I don't think I want to be a part of it anymore, but I also don't think I have what it takes to fight back. And if Cinder is being… converted… I'm not even sure if I'll want to."
It was finally Cinnamon's turn to stiffen up.
"…I have a bad feeling I already know, but… converted?"
"Exactly what you're thinking," Emerald said forebodingly as she opened her eyes and looked over to the faunus. "Not all grimm are made from animal bones…"
Without a word, Cinnamon stood up and cracked her neck.
"Where are you going?" Emerald asked as she remained on the ground.
"You usually come out to steal dust, right?" the faunus asked. "Let's not let a perfectly good evening go to waste. But let me ask something of you- this guilt you feel. Is it enough that you would fight back if you had a clear path to do so? Allies at your back and a clear window of opportunity?"
"…you're not seriously suggesting you're going to throw in with Sun, are you?" Emerald replied. "You think General Ironwood would just welcome us with open arms? We're wanted women. I was a big part of the fall of Beacon, and you're the High Leader of the White Fang. If we make ourselves known, we'll be captured and jailed immediately. I don't want to watch Remnant burn from behind bars."
"Then where would you like to watch it from?" Cinnamon demanded as she put her hands on her hips. "From a campsite? Atop a motorcycle, between fleeing down highways? Run away, if you want to… but I'm going to run straight into the fire. Things may seem to be getting more and more hopeless, but every person who resists will make the odds that much better. I don't have a plan just yet, but I'm going to start making one. I won't let her take anything more from me… and especially not control of my own body. Are you in, or not?"
Emerald reacted to the hand being thrust out to her as though it was a sword. She scrunched her face and closed her eyes, internally wrestling with the notion of telling the other woman to back off.
"…you think you feel guilty now? Imagine how you'll feel knowing you did nothing to pr-"
Emerald seized Cinnamon's hand in a death grip as she opened her eyes, her entire body filled with all-consuming dread.
"…I reserve the right to change my mind at the last possible second, especially if Cinder's alive," Emerald warned. "This isn't a guarantee. This is a toe in the water, and nothing else."
Cinnamon pulled hard, yanking the smaller woman to her feet before giving her a firm nod.
"Better than nothing. Salem and Watts are about to find that they made a critical error in these team compositions."
"What's that?" Emerald asked cautiously as she followed Cinnamon into an alleyway.
"They backed us both up against a wall… and you know what they say about cornered animals."
"I just hope you fight as good as you talk," Emerald mused.
"Better. Now, come on. Let's steal ourselves a ton of dust… and wait for a good opportunity to put it to use…"
Author's Note:
Next time- the 150 milestone, starring neither of the main characters! Woo!
-RD