Blake, to her own surprise, was not used to being alone. Though, perhaps she shouldn't be surprised. Fond as she was to considering herself the lone wolf (or cat), she'd long since shed herself of that notion. There was a time when she tried to do everything herself, but those sleepless nights had accomplished nothing— less than nothing, in fact. She'd been set back, dragged down, and brought to the lowest she'd been in a long time. A breaking point, not just for herself, but for her whole team. It was her fault that a wedge had been driven between them, and she could never express how grateful she was to their leader. Nor would she, as her pride forbade it.

But now, she felt truly alone. Yang and Ruby were stuck recovering in Patch, and the texts she'd been receiving from Yang over the past few days did not paint a pretty picture. Ruby was actually somewhat of a hero to her, and not just because she'd saved their team. It was her unwavering belief and her certainty that the right thing could always be done, no matter how childish, naive, or impractical it seemed.

But cracks had started to form. Much as she tried to let the matter stay between those two, she couldn't ignore that Ruby had cut her partner's arm off. Since then, it was obvious that Ruby's fortitude had crumbled: at Beacon, with the uncontrolled murderous intent she showed towards that thing with Adam's name; her frequent lapses in focus where she looked distinctly lost, followed by panic as she refocused and subsequently tried to hide what happened; and Weiss… Blake sighed. She'd tried not to think about it, but losing a teammate— a friend— wasn't something anyone could just ignore. Weiss was gone, taken by that monster. She has to be somewhere. Not dead, she told herself. She couldn't be, it simply wasn't possible. Weiss would never let herself die, especially not to somebody like Adam, or whatever had come to possess him. That was beneath her.

Even if she could convince herself, that didn't make it any easier. She couldn't imagine what they would be putting her through, whoever it was that took her. A group that had the audacity to blow up a Hunters' training academy, murder its faculty and students, and simultaneously stage a cataclysmic incursion of Grimm into the city of Vale… she refused to consider what they could be doing to Weiss, or Winter for that matter. After all, there was no way the Specialist had managed to escape with Weiss— she would've sent word by now. No, chasing after her sister had been reckless, desperate, and entirely instinctual.

The loss of Weiss left an undeniable dent in her spirit. Remembering how she'd found them in that clearing, Blake couldn't imagine how Ruby was feeling. At least, she didn't want to. Not now, not while she was so alone, wandering among the towering, bleached halls of Atlas Academy.

High walls, bright lights, and huge, pristine interiors. The academy was everything Blake had expected it to be: a gaudy picture of oligarchic authoritarianism, meant to serve as a message. To those inside, it bolstered their confidence, their pride, reminding them that they had the privilege of serving in the greatest military the world could offer. Their patriotism would not go unrewarded; their efforts elevated their city-on-a-hill— a literal floating island, one which served as a giant middle-finger to those outside it. Fuck you, it said, you can't be here. You're too poor, too weak, too different to have the privilege of existing in our space. You'll never reach our heaven— you haven't pulled your bootstraps high enough. Perhaps if you tried harder, mined more Dust, worked your fingers to the bone and then some, then you could catch a glimpse. Or you could always sign up for our military! Just three years is all we ask! Five if you're a Faunus, though, we just have to make sure you're one of the good ones. We promise you can't regret it— you won't be allowed to wash out!

Blake fumed, fueled by her pleasantly political internal ranting. It was a nice distraction from her previous thoughts. Unfortunately, it did not distract her from the fact that, while wandering the Academy's grand foyer (staff had limited her to the first floor), she'd picked up a tail. It was not a very good tail, due mainly to its unreasonably bright ginger hair and its incapability of moving with any degree of subtlety. Penny watched her from across the foyer, standing ramrod-straight with her gaze firmly locked on the Faunus.

Heaving an annoyed sigh, Blake continued on her route. She had a destination in mind, and no secrets to hide. Not yet, at least.

Blake casually entered the arena, where she knew he would be. The room itself was huge, a gargantuan stadium clearly meant to host more than just students and their sparring matches. She could even see a digital scoreboard high above them, inactive at the moment, but clearly used when other activities such as sports took place here. The only thing happening now was a spar between students— not a sanctioned one, by the looks of it, just practice. An even battle between a student with olive complexion, a long copper ponytail, and a giant battle-axe against one with rosy skin and a pair of intensely curved sabers. The stands were sparse, with only a few bodies occupying seats. The particular person she sought was thankfully close.

From the arena's vomitorium, she watched Qrow sigh deeply. His usual outfit was gone in favor of a wrinkled grey button-down tucked into darker grey slacks. His collar was half-up on one side, his top two buttons were undone, and both of his sleeves were messily crumpled up past his elbows. One hand rested over his side, which had been wounded in their escape from Beacon. The Huntsman looked truly worse for wear, with almost-black bags around his eyes and a wrinkled scowl twisting his lips. Blake watched him fish into his pocket, extract a tiny glass bottle, and down the entire thing. She grimaced. He'd never looked so old.

Blake slid into the open spot beside him, startling the Huntsman. He frantically hid the now-empty bottle, embarrassed. "Uh… Kate! Hey! I'm just… watching the match. You know."

"Blake, professor," she corrected.

He cringed, then tried to cover his mistake with a fake laugh. "Blake! Yeah, of course, I was just joking! Ha-ha, ha… ha."

Blake opened her mouth, but a sudden wave of guilt struck her dumb. She felt bad for catching him like this, in a state so vulnerable that it was pathetic. He didn't even have his weapon with him. Hunched over with a desperately apologetic look in his eyes, Blake didn't see a Huntsman, just a sad old man. She tried to soften her features into something more sympathetic. "Um, professor, are you okay?"

Qrow looked at her, then back at the match, then back to her. His unconvincing facade of innocence slipped away, replaced with a dour grimace. "Yeah," he lied, slightly slurred, "I'm fine."

"I won't tell anyone," Blake promised.

Qrow scoffed. "I never doubted that; doesn't mean she won't." Blake watched him nod towards the figure unsubtly peeking around the vomitorium's corner. Penny.

"Oh, uh… sorry," Blake apologized, suddenly awkward. "I think she's with me."

With Penny creepily watching, Blake realized she didn't have anything to say to Qrow. She'd just been seeking some kind of connection to her friends, since she wasn't allowed to see her other peers in the infirmary. Looking at the older man, she realized that he really emanated that loner vibe she tried to personally cultivate, and did it so well that it was honestly repulsive. She scooted away from him, silently turning her eyes to the fight below.

At least, she would've watched the fight, if Penny didn't suddenly appear in front of them both. Her uncannily bright eyes alternated between staring at the two, clearly waiting for one of them to address her.

It was Qrow that spoke first. "Whaddaya want, robo-girl," his words were tired and annoyed, not even intoned as a question. "We're kinda busy here."

Penny responded without missing a beat, her voice perfectly chipper. "It is illegal to consume alcohol on school grounds outside of Erntewoche, which is still twenty-one days and thirteen hours away."

Blake's eyebrows rose at the fact that there was a time alcohol was allowed on school grounds, but Qrow just stared past her, like he could see the fight through her body. "Hell're you gonna do about it, huh?" He challenged.

Penny seemed to briefly consider taking action, then relaxed her shoulders. "Nothing. I am simply reminding you— to fight a licensed Huntsman such as yourself over something so trivial would only damage school property, and our reputation. I do have a message for you, though."

Qrow finally addressed her with his gaze, rolling his hand to implore her. "Spit it out."

"Headmaster Ironwood requests your presence," she stated. "Both of you, separately. Professor Branwen first. Please, follow me."

Blake blinked as Penny turned on a heel and began walking out of the facility. She didn't wait for them to confirm, she just expected them to follow like dogs. Blake sighed, but got up nonetheless; she really didn't have anything better to do. She heard Qrow groan just before she could pass through the vomitorium, and after another moment, he too accompanied them. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him down another tiny bottle and shudder.

They followed the ginger girl, awkwardly silent all the way to the elevator in the huge center atrium. The doors shut on the group, and the only thing that told them they were ascending was the slight vertical pull to their stomachs. They rode the metal box in tense silence. Apparently sensing the awkward atmosphere, Penny was the first to speak up.

"The current weather is a pleasantly mild fifty-two degrees, with almost no clouds," she remarked. "If fishing were a viable activity at this altitude, I would recommend it. Since it is not, though, I would recommend an easy stroll around the academy grounds, followed by a foray into the city itself. I have premium transport privileges, and I could ensure that we have our own luxury cabin on the maglev."

Blake and Qrow shared a dubious look over the android's head. "Yeah, I'm uh… not allowed outside the Academy," Blake mentioned.

Penny looked over her shoulder with surprisingly genuine shock. Blake had forgotten how expressive she could be. "Why not?" Penny asked. "You have done nothing wrong, you certainly deserve a day of relaxation after the intense emotional and physical turmoil you've been put through— both of you. Your stress hormones are extremely high."

Qrow and Blake shared another look, one that said 'I have no idea how to talk to this girl'.

"Uh, yeah…" Qrow attempted, unwilling to lay the entire social burden on his student's shoulders. "Tell that to your higher-ups. They don't want us leaving."

"Thanks for your concern, though," Blake offered, guessing that Penny appreciated feedback. Wait, was that fucked up, assuming how this girl wanted to communicate? Was stuffing an Aura into a robot body fucked up? Was calling the process 'stuffing' and her body a 'robot' fucked up? Shit, she wished Ruby was here. At least she knew the android.

Penny, as if she could read Blake's concerns, gave the Faunus a calming smile over her shoulder. She held it for a second, just long enough to get slightly uncomfortable, then turned back to the blank metal doors of the elevator. "I sincerely apologize for your treatment. I will be bringing it up with the staff; since I am a medical professional, they should take my advice seriously."

Blake's eyes widened at the back of her ginger head. "You're a doctor?"

"Of course!" Was Penny's chipper answer. "I am driven on several variant-core processors, both out of necessity and for redundancy's sake. Our conversation is currently occupying one such processor, three are constantly occupied with my body and Aura's upkeep, one is processing the challenging feelings I am having for a friend, and several others are studying various licensable professions in background low-power mode. If you want to know, I am a certified GP, endocrinologist, radiologist, and am currently studying pathology. In addition, I hold degrees in Dust theory, theoretical Dust theory, Aura theory, Grimm theory, biomechanical engineering, Dust engineering, gender studies, and theoretical physics. I have a license to carry a concealed weapon, even though it is obsolete to my Hunter's license, and I am also forklift certified."

Blake blinked, her hands raising to slow the android down. "Wait, why are you fork—"

Qrow's incredulity was slightly louder, his slurred voice overpowering Blake's question. "Hunter's license? Don't you mean Huntress' license?"

Penny enthusiastically turned to address the latter. "As I said, Professor Branwen, I have a degree in gender studies, which required considerably more processing power than I expected it to. This body was built to be feminine-presenting, so one might assume I would be assigned female, but I do not actually have such parts. As such, I am intersex, and self-identify as nonbinary because I find the irony humorous. I prefer neutral pronouns, but I do not mind she/her; hence, the neutral term for Huntsman or Huntress."

Qrow slowly nodded, unsure how to respond to the intense swathe of somewhat overly-personal information that Penny had just struck him with. "Oh, uh… okay. Sorry."

Penny shrugged with an easy smile. "Do not apologize, you are actually among the first people with whom I have brought this up. Besides my father, of course."

Blake's eyebrows were threatening to leap off her head. "Shit, for real?"

"There is no need for expletives, but yes. 'For real'." Penny repeated, giggling slightly as the phrase jumped off their tongue.

"Wait, so Ironwood know—" Qrow was interrupted by a sudden, sharp look from the android.

"Headmaster Ironwood is not my father," Penny stated, serious as the grave. "Please amend that notion."

Qrow held his hands up apologetically. "Notion amended. Sorry."

Penny gave him a curt nod and turned back to the doors. "Thank you."

There was another long silence, but the elevator just kept climbing. The tower was insanely tall, though Blake imagined the speed of the elevator to be a deliberate tactic of Ironwood's, one meant to offset anybody coming to talk to him by making them wait through an extremely long, boring ride. Blake, however, had no intention of letting herself be put off by it, and decided to restart their conversation. "So, Penny, you said you have some, uh… challenging feelings towards one of your friends?"

Penny visibly tensed— something Blake had not seen from the android. "I do."

Okay, apparently Penny could also play coy. Blake was learning all kinds of things. "Well… what kind of feelings? If they're challenging, it might help to field them with people you can trust."

Penny fully turned and looked Blake up and down, then did the same for Qrow. "I do not know if I can trust you," they said frankly, making Blake deflate.

"What?" Qrow blurted. "What have we done to betray your trust, huh?"

Penny raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "I am not saying you have betrayed my trust. Rather, I am specifically referring to you, professor Branwen. You have a reputation for alcoholism, something which could jeopardize any secrets I share with you."

Qrow took the blunt admission like a hammer to the chest, his jaw dropping. "Wh-wha— I—"

Penny casually turned to the other occupant of the elevator. "Blake, you are actually one of the only people I would be willing to tell this to, perhaps after this old fart leaves us alone," they jerked a thumb towards Qrow, who physically recoiled from the words. "For real."

"W-w'th'fuck? O-old?"He repeated, going pale as he slumped against the wall.

Blake snorted, but failed to actually hold her laughter at bay. She doubled over with it, tightly holding her stomach as her raucous laughs devolved to strained wheezes. She had to seek support with the blank wall of the elevator to avoid collapsing. Penny smiled triumphantly.

It was precisely that moment that the elevator came to a halt, and the doors hissed open. A man stood on the other end, tall and pale, with green eyes and short brown hair. He wore a sleeveless white vest with a long tail, navy side panels, and a red lapel, which was turned out and pinned with the insignia of a four-leaf clover. His hand rested on his hip, near a device that Blake could only guess was either a grenade, or a really obtuse weapon.

"Ah, hello Penny," he greeted warmly, his eyes pleasantly sparkling. "Good to see you."

Penny turned and offered a cordial wave while Blake tried her best to recover from her fit of laughter. Out of the corner of her eye, though, she noticed Qrow stiffen.

"Qrow," the man nodded to him, his gentle expression unwavering. "It's been a while."

Qrow, in an extremely strange display, sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Hey, Clover."

Blake felt the air grow oddly thick in the elevator, and hastily squeezed past Penny to escape the stuffy atmosphere. The man, aptly named Clover, turned to follow her movement. Again, his warm look remained steadfast, and his eyes only briefly flicked to her ears before respectfully returning to her face. "Nice to meet you," with a slight bend at the hips, he extended a polite hand her way. "I'm Clover, Ace Ops."

Blake really wasn't sure how to feel about the guy— most of the people in Atlas either dismissed her or sneered at her Faunus features, so it was genuinely surprising that he didn't seem to be immediately prejudiced towards her. "Blake," she cautiously responded before tepidly meeting his handshake. "I'm from Beacon."

Clover nodded, giving her hand a couple firm shakes before letting go. He didn't even wipe his hand on his pants. "Ah yes," he replied with a somber dip of his head. "My condolences."

Blake, unsure of what to do now, looked towards her superior, but Qrow seemed just as confused, and… what the fuck? Why was he turning red? "Ironwood," Qrow strained to say, as if even being in Clover's presence was severely hampering his mental faculties. "Meeting."

"What, you don't want to catch up?" Blake watched Qrow absolutely fold as Clover returned his attention towards the man. "It has been a while. What, Five years?"

Qrow coughed as an obvious (failed) attempt to cover his automatic correction. "Four."

Clover laughed, then reached into the elevator to pull Qrow out by the arm. The Huntsman tripped and stumbled on his way out, but Clover was quick to catch him with a hand to his fucking waist? What the fuck? Blake watched, stunned. This was some Ninjas of Love shit.

Qrow hastily scrambled back and coughed; Clover let out a hearty laugh. Blake, completely lost, turned to Penny. The android watched, completely enraptured by the exchange. So she was totally alone in how weird this all was. Great.

From across the room, the noise of a clearing throat caught everybody's attention simultaneously. A woman, sitting at her slate-grey desk, addressed them. "The Headmaster will see you now, Mr. Branwen."

Qrow straightened himself and tugged at his collar, as if anybody would be convinced that his scarlet face was from the heat of the room. He hastily moved away from Clover, shuffling as quickly towards the Headmaster's office as he could without running. He bade the secretary a quick nod before ducking into the room. The doors closed behind him, leaving Blake alone with a guy that apparently made Qrow Branwen swoon, and a nonbinary android with a forklift certification.

Blake sighed. She hated Atlas.

A/N: sorry update took so long lol. love this chapter, blake is super fun to write and i feel i did her and yang dirty by leaving them out of DH so much, i mean i think their parts were some of my favorites in the early chapters. also penny is great :) gf and i nearly resorted to fisticuffs over them calling qrow a 'crusty geezer' being a little too much, so we settled on 'old fart' with some help from a friend. also, love writing blake's perspective, she has really fun voice. and poor qrow... he's not ready for clover... stupid, sexy clover...