Arc 3 - Chapter 7 - Of Monsters and Women

There was only Blake, the pencil, and the canvas. Everyone else, everything else, ceased to exist.

Blake wielded her pencil just so. The eraser pressed into her palm, thumb and middle finger keeping the shaft stable, pointer finger pressed on the base of the collar. The tip was sharpened to a deadly point, like an elegant rapier forged from hard black graphite. Her instrument of expression, her weapon of imagination, the tool to give life to abstract thought. The drunkard rarely resists another drink, so it follows that an artist rarely resists a new piece. A chance to intoxicate herself in the fumes of creation. Who was she to refuse the call?

She pressed the pencil edge on the outline, just hard enough to achieve the proper weight, then guided it with her wrist rather than her hand. The picture began to pop before her eyes, to burst from the page. Once properly outlined, she lightened her grip, then added precise flecks and cuts, thick in some places, thin in others. The dynamic contrast granted her creation a layer of realism, a shadow of surrealism. Next, shading. She took up her charcoal, noted her light source, then applied years of lessons into her picture. No longer was it simply a shadow of life. Now, it had come to life genuinely. Imagined into reality. From fabrication to flesh.

The tools and grip changed, her position shifted, but her mind stayed the same. Blocking out all else, and making a world where it was only her and her creations. A beautiful world. A peaceful world. Her sanctuary.

At least, until the drawing was done.

It was like a blink, waking from the flow state. One moment absent of thought, the next overflowing. The real world settled in around her, and it was disappointing, just like always.

Blake was in her art class — but then, she didn't draw anywhere else these days. The class was in its usual state. Some people focused intently on the assignment, some half-focused and whispering to their friends, some not focused at all, having left poor excuses for drawings, or pages entirely blank in favor of their phones, or friends, or even staring out the window in miserable silence. Mister Fairs strutted about the room, giving praise and criticism where earned, shaking his head in disappointment at those who barely tried.

His eyes lit up considerably when he got around to her, and it reminded Blake of how she would look at him at the end of every assignment, waiting eagerly for his praise. Sometimes, she even approached him while he was busy, shaving her drawing in his face, pleading for his opinion on it. Strange how now, seeing that happy smile on her teacher's face only made her feel guilty and ashamed. It felt like that smile was forced, all the while hiding the utter disappointment he now felt toward her.

Blake watched as Mister Fairs' eyes turned from her to the drawing. Saw him flinch, his eyes going wide, lips slightly parted as he tried to contain his surprise. "Blake," he breathed, "This is, well… not what I expected."

Blake turned to her picture. "Did I misunderstand the assignment?"

"I think you understand it perfectly," the teacher said, and rather sullenly at that. "Maybe too well."

"You did say to paint an abstract representation of a feeling." Blake adjusted a few of the lines, then wiped away the specks of lead. "You wanted to be able to tell what feeling it is at first glance."

"Remind me next time to just have you all draw figures."

Blake looked up at him, saw the sad look on his face, then turned back to the picture to keep from looking sad herself. "It's fine if you don't like it."

Mister Fairs put a hand on her shoulder. "No, it's lovely. I mean, it's got to be up there with your best. Still…" and Blake saw him looking at her from the corner of her eye. "Is something wrong, Blake? Are you alright?"

Blake stared at her drawing, not sure at all how she was feeling today. Nothing bad had happened. Adam had woken up in a good mood. Hell, he'd been in a good mood for a solid week now. She had nothing to complain about. Life was great.

Yet as she stared into her picture, she felt absolutely nothing. No joy in it. There hadn't been any joy in art for a long time now. Not like it mattered. She had the best man in the world at home to make her happy. Her world was complete. She needed nothing else.

"I'm fine. It's just a drawing." Blake said, resolutely.

Mister Fairs sighed, but eventually moved on to another student. It was for the best, she figured. He'd find another pupil to gush over in time. He didn't really care about her anyway. He probably only wanted to be credited with helping develop her art. Everyone was only out for themselves, and Blake was no different.

Blake stared into her drawing for the rest of the period. Adjusted it, erased and redrew in a few places, but ultimately the final draft remained the same.

A woman slumped on the ground, eyes wide and unseeing. Her kimono was unwrapped, exposing her naked body, skin paler than ice. Her belly was split open, one end to the other, while the small ceremonial knife lay clattered at her feet. Perhaps that was macabre enough, but then Blake had added a black fog curling out of her cut belly, swirling above the corpse, and clumping into the form of an ethereal creature, huge and muscled, hovering over her body like it was a coveted possession now broken. The creature had taken one of her arms and started eating it, tearing the meat with its big black teeth. She called this piece, Freedom.

Mister Fairs had said to draw a feeling, and to make it so the feeling can be interpreted by anyone looking at it. Blake figured she had failed the second half of the assignment.

Mister Fairs probably thought it represented fear, or being trapped, or haunted.

Blake looked at the picture… and only felt relief.

"Yes, Dad. I know, I… yes. Yes. Love you."

It was always exhausting talking to her parents, most especially her father. Blake might have wondered why she called them, but remembered right away how she rarely called at all. Oftentimes, the thought of her parents was fleeting. The feeling would come and she'd pull out her phone to call, but then the doubts would freeze her, make her reconsider. Later, she'd tell herself. I'll call them tomorrow. Or next week. Or the week after. Only for the fateful day to come and for her to chicken out.

At times, it made her wonder if she simply hated her parents. That was probably the impression she'd left after deciding to move out. She remembered how her mother had tried her hardest to seem excited and supportive while doing her damnedest not to cry. Blake had almost cried herself that day, for one reason or another. As for her father, he had not given his support, but had not stood in her way, either. He'd asked her to promise him just one thing.

To be happy.

And ever since, Blake had constantly wondered whether she was keeping that promise.

She considered herself somewhat happy at the moment. Sat on the floor in the living room, wearing nothing but a halter top and shorts, putting a puzzle together. Adam would be at work for another six hours, so the house would be peaceful for a good while. She made sure to always appreciate these moments, rare as they were.

Of course, within an hour, Blake found herself facing a problem that had become a regular occurrence in the last year or so.

Boredom.

After finishing her puzzle, she wandered around the house, directionless, trying to think of a way to occupy herself. She wasn't much for television, and the few shows she did like she'd already watched several times. Adam had plenty of video games, and sometimes they'd play together, but that was the only time she did. She preferred to watch people play games rather than play herself. Then of course, she thought about reading, but even that was missing its usual charm. She hadn't read anything in a while and it was hard to find the motivation, if there was any at all. Blake toyed with random things about the house, cleaned and rearranged, but nothing was saying that empty feeling.

Maybe… she could go somewhere?

The idea gave her a burst of energy. Yes, she could go out and do something. The ideas came to her instantly. She could go for a walk through the national park, she could go to her Tucson's book trade, or pick up some new coffee recipes from the shop. Ilia lived in that area too, maybe she was bored too. It wouldn't hurt to ask, would it? Excited, Blake pulled her phone and made ready to call her.

Then, it came to her how Adam might feel about this.

They'd reached an understanding after her mistake. Blake remembered it clearly even now. How she had pleaded on her knees for forgiveness. How she had begged him to take her back. How she would do anything in order to be with him again. Such prices as he had named had seemed light, at first.

But those were the terms she'd agreed to, were they not? She owed him, did she not? She had to uphold their promise. To prove that she loved him. To win back his love.

So Blake put her phone away and welcomed boredom back into her company. The only company she could have without Adam's express permission. Which she liked! Preferred, in fact. Adam was always trying to protect her from bad influences. Telling her to choose her friends carefully. Advising her to dismiss the ones who were dragging her down. All because he loved her and wanted what was best for her. Obviously.

…

Still, Blake wished she could go somewhere. To go somewhere with someone. Someone who wanted to spend time with her.

Blake flinched as she heard the front door unlock. Adam was home early. That could be very good or very bad. Blake's heart was already thumping before the door pushed open and Adam stepped in. He met her eye, face set in the unreadable expression, keeping her on edge for what felt like a long moment.

Then he smiled, and Blake had to keep from blowing a sigh of the greatest relief. "Hey," she greeted, coming up to kiss him. "Slow day?"

"Switching shifts." said Adam, kissing her back fully. "How was your day?"

She gestured to the puzzle on the floor. "That was my contribution to society today."

"Impressive. You should get an award."

"My award walked in just now," Blake said, earning a little smirk from him. It warmed her right to the tips of her ears. "Well, what do you want to do the rest of the day? I was thinking we could go to the park together. We haven't had a date in a while."

"True. But I already promised to show up at the center today. I'm sorry."

Blake tried not to let her disappointment show. "No, it's fine. We can plan for later."

He kissed her one more time before making for the bedroom to change, then stopped short. "Hey, why don't you come with me today?"

Blake blinked. To the center? She's gone a few times before, back during the early part of their relationship. He'd stopped inviting her altogether after… well, her mistake. Up to this point, she'd assumed he didn't want her there anymore. That community center had his heart and soul in it, so it only made sense that the one who'd broken his heart, who'd crushed his soul, was no longer permitted. "You want me there?"

Adam shrugged. "Why wouldn't I? You know what, let's get dinner after too. Your choice, my love."

Blake fumbled for words, but eventually agreed, elated. Adam wanted to spend time with her. Blake might have dated say this was the best day she'd had in a long time. Being productive at the center then dinner at her favorite restaurant? It was almost a dream.

Could it be a sign that Adam was starting to forgive her? That he already has forgiven her? Perhaps he'd bring it up tonight. Maybe they'd finally talk about it. He was ready to let the past go, and look toward their future together. He had rediscovered his love for her, as she had him, and now they could finally move on.

Blake might have started to cry, but she managed to control herself as she went to find a change of clothes.

The whole way there Blake had worn probably the biggest, stupidest, giddiest smile she had in a long time. Practically bouncing in her seat at the prospect of spending the day with her love. She might have worn that smile all day, in fact… had she not seen Jaune.

He was busy washing the paint off a brick wall with dogged determination. Quite as if the thing was his mortal enemy, back once more to test his resolve. He was joined by a girl with extremely long red hair done up in a ponytail, who scrubbed at the opposing wall with equal willpower. Maybe even more. Blake would have been more than happy to leave the two to their heroic venture, but Adam was already guiding her toward them, utterly oblivious to his lover's hesitance. Or, at least, Blake hoped he was oblivious.

How could she have forgotten Jaune was here? Adam told her about him every once in a while. She had already heard about the recent fight he'd gotten in, breaking the nose of some lowly vagrant that could have been a gang member. Suddenly, Blake entirely regretted coming, though with further thought she couldn't quite say why. Nosy as his reputation made him seem, it had been weeks since their last interaction and she no longer thought he was trying to poke into her business.

Even still, he was a new member of her old group. Meaning He could very well know of things he had no business knowing. Maybe he hadn't been interested in her life that one time, but things could change.

Already, she did not like the way Jaune looked at her. Eyes darting back and forth between her and Adam, wheels turning in his head, trying to make sense of this pairing, and not at all struggling to come up with a reasonable answer. The thought of that made Blake swallow. There was no telling what those looks could mean, or what he might say.

Adam dragged a finger across the bricks and inspected it with a nod. "Good work. Nice to know you don't slack when I'm gone." he greeted.

Jaune dunked a rag into a bucket of steaming hot water. He said, "If you're gonna do a job, it's best to do it right."

"Too true. And how's our new member of the family?" Adam said loud enough for the girl to hear. She turned her head and presented an expression so neutral it was practically a blank canvas. Smarmily, she raised two fingers in a peace sign, then got right back to work. "Are you two getting along?"

Jaune glanced across at the red haired girl, "We reached an understanding. Hate each other in silence."

"That's a start, I suppose."

"It's a work in progress. Hey Blake."

Blake almost fumbled her response, but managed to hide it. "Er, hey. I'd say I didn't expect to see you here, but Adam's mentioned you… a few times." That was putting it lightly. She heard about Jaune so much that it was getting annoying. Blake recalled one night, not two seconds after having sex, Adam had brought him up again. It was some kind of mood killer for one's boyfriend to be thinking of some other young man's anger problems while stark naked and bending his girlfriend over a table. Whatever charisma Jaune had, she desperately needed some of it.

"Blake used to come more often, long before you were here," said Adam, looking at her with a knowing smile. "I'm thinking she'll be around more often. She doesn't make enough friends."

Jaune raised an eyebrow and Blake hoped he didn't say anything about the group. "If you say so."

"Well, I need to help Trifa with some truck runs. Blake, how about you spend some time with Jaune and Pyrrha here?"

Blake glanced up at him, nearly adopting a face of betrayal. She thought to ask to go with him instead, but then figured it best not to give him any argument. He'd been in a good mood all week, and the last thing she wanted to do was test his patience on the first date night they'd have in a while. "Sure. Yeah, it'll be fun. I'll see you later."

Adam patted Jaune playfully on the shoulder. "Counting on you to keep an eye on her. She can be a troublemaker."

He was joking, or maybe he wasn't. Either way Blake put up a smile and watched him head off, vanishing into the building. And so there were three. Blake stared at Jaune and he stared back, and not far off, Pyrrha half turned her head to pierce Blake with a single green eye. Like before, she did not hold the gazes for long.

Jaune was the one to break the awkward air. "You and Adam?" he asked.

"It's none of your business." Blake said back as sternly as she could, though it came out a bit weak, like a pup yipping at an older, more vicious dog.

Fittingly, Jaune was unimpressed by her rare spell of pseudo-bravery and went right back to cleaning. "There's an extra scrub in there. Take that other side. The soap might ruin your nail polish though, so sorry in advance."

Blake thought about offering a snide comment to that, but wasn't sure if he was poking at her for seeming dainty or being genuine. She thought to point out that he did not command her, but it was in her best interest to simply comply. For Adam, of course. Jaune was nobody to her. She snatched a scrub and went on to work on her portion of the wall.

The three worked in silence for a while, seeming almost separate from the flow of time, as the sounds of the city went on around them, without them. Rarely was anything said.

Though Blake did notice that whenever she exchanged glances with Pyrrha, the girl would scan her up and down with this strange look, like she was some sudden obstacle in the way of her run. Blake could mostly ignore it, but there were times when she felt that look on the back of her neck, she'd turn around, and Pyrrha would be turning away, pretending not to have been burning holes into the back of her head. Then, Blake looked at Jaune and immediately understood.

At one point, Pyrrha dropped her rag in the bucket and turned to Jaune. "I need the restroom," her eyes swerved over to Blake. "Do you mind showing me where it is?"

Blake decided right then that she would do no such thing. Pyrrha did not look weak by any measure. She was covered up well, but she was tall and had an athletic body. Blake did not doubt that the same viciousness she delivered upon that wall would be dealt to her the very moment they were alone together, be it verbally or physically, and she was not in the mood for either.

"It's down the hall. Your first right. You can't miss it," said Jaune.

Pyrrha did not look away from Blake as Jaune spoke, lingered for just a moment as though contemplating murdering her right there, but eventually stalked off, fists bunched.

Blake waited a good minute after she was gone. "You'd better let her down now while it's early."

Jaune didn't look at her as he replied with, "What now?"

"That girl. She has a crush on you." And probably a very intense one.

"Doubt it."

Blake rolled her eyes. It really was incredible how some boys have no sense at all. "She's been glaring ax murder at me ever since I arrived. Why else would she do that if she didn't want to be alone with you?"

"We've only known each other for a few days."

"It doesn't take long to fall in love," Blake said, feeling stupid for saying it. But it wasn't as if she was lying. After all, she had her own experiences to draw from. "You don't have to believe me, but I'm telling you the truth. Spare her the heartbreak and let her know you aren't into her." Blake paused and stared at Jaune's impassive face. "If that's the case, anyway."

A single blue eye found Blake. "What do you mean?"

"I don't mean anything. Just saying. I don't know your life. What women you have lined up. "

"Then let me make things clear. One and most importantly, Ruby is my girlfriend."

"So? That doesn't stop some."

Jaune's lip curled. "And second, Pyrrha and I hate each other. I'm pretty sure that's the only thing we do like about one another."

Blake shrugged. "Whatever you say."

They worked in silence for a few minutes, but it felt far longer to Blake now. She wasn't sure why she had said those things to Jaune, or at least gone as far as she had. He hadn't done anything wrong, she now realized. Sighing, Blake tried to make it right.

"I didn't mean to insinuate anything." she said. "I'm sorry."

"Forget it," said Jaune.

"And thanks again for, you know, before."

Jaune nodded. "Whatever it is you two are, it's none of my business. I like Adam. He's a good guy. He's been helping me a lot."

It was strange, but Blake could tell he meant it. She saw a strange softening in his expression, like he had let his guard down for just a moment. For a moment, he looked like a young boy bragging to his friends about his awesome older brother. It reminded her right away of how she had bragged about Adam when they'd first started dating. How she had been so proud to have him. To feel worthy of a man like him.

Blake gave a slow, understanding nod. "Yeah, he's… he's a good man."

"Then, so long as you're happy, it doesn't matter what others think." Jaune shrugged. "Right?"

Blake stared at him. "I… well, yes. I guess."

Jaune was silent for a moment. "Adam said you need friends. Ruby says I need to get better at being friendly with people." Jaune shrugged. "I've gotta think that we both want to make them happy. But making friends is…"

"A pain," said Blake sourly.

"A pain, yeah. So let's make it easier on ourselves. I'll agree to be your friend so Ruby will be happy. You agree to be my friend, and that'll make Adam happy. Everybody gets what they want."

Blake saw no disadvantage in it, even if the idea of being friends with Jaune sounded absurd. But ihrasing it like a deal, like a contract of tolerance in order to stay in the graces of their lovers, that made the idea far more acceptable. She still couldn't say she liked Jaune, but a friend out of convenience is still something. "You've got a deal."

Jaune held out her hand and she took it. His grip had strength, but was gentle too. They nodded at one another, and Blake even dared believe there was something resembling a shadow of a half-smile on his face.

"Alright," Jaune said, "Then let's—"

Two things happened at once. First, Pyrrha came back through the door.

And a split second later, the world became weightless.

Blake's ears trembled with the sudden explosive sound of shattering glass. So loud that it was as if a car had crashed through a store window. It was raining, then. Raining glass shards. They fell around her in their millions, reflecting light of every color, and from a source she could not determine. Everywhere else? Darkness. A pitch black universe where nothing else existed, and where she fell like a meteor plummeting toward the planet, turning over and over, having no idea where she was going. All Blake knew was that she was screaming.

Then, she wasn't. She wasn't falling anymore. She was floating.

It was… beautiful. A great swirling galaxy right in front of her, shining pink, orange, purple, and red. Dots of white punctured the thick dust clouds, billions of light years across. Further away, a bright blue star, flaring quiet in the soundless space. Blake could only stare, utterly spellbound, afflicted with awe and terror. How? She wondered. How could something so big and unknowable exist in this universe? How even had she come to be?

Slowly, Blake turned her head.

A moon, she thought. Or a quarter of one. The rest of the great body were a trillion shards, some as big as countries, others smaller than particles of dust. Just floating there. Trapped in the gravity of whatever celestial body it was tied too. It seemed too unreal, too extraordinary, too grand for her tiny mind.

Slowly, Blake turned her head.

A planet. So close and so huge that the edges were too far to see the end of, enveloping her entire field of view somehow. It seemed almost to blend in the black. Swallowed in gray clouds, pulsing with bolts of violet lightning. Blake felt nothing from it.m, and yet everything. It was like the thing was both alive and dead at once. Yet, disturbingly familiar. Home, she thought. But not anymore. It had been too long.

As if that were a silent command, she was yanked by a sudden force, and her screams came alive. She flew toward the dead or alive planet, plunged through the clouds, saw the lightning scatter and lash and strike around her, as if planning their next violent attack on the earth. She plunged beyond them, opened up into the dark atmosphere below. Land, oceans, mountains. Then faster. Too much to comprehend. Getting closer.

Blake closed her eyes, her ears full of the sound of violent wind. The end was close. A splatter on the ground and nothing more. And all without knowing why.

Suddenly, she was on her back.

Blake realized she was lying somewhere. Not dead. Unless this was hell. It very well could be.

The first thing she thought about was if anything was broken. She felt her body, flapped around her arms, but didn't feel any pain, didn't hear any clicking bones. How? She'd been falling not a moment ago. Falling from the very stars. How was she alive? Where was she?

Blake sat up on her knees and looked around. She was in… downtown Vale?

It certainly looked like Vale, but at the same time not at all. The buildings were of a modern design, but slightly different in many ways, like new models had replaced the old. She was in some city block, only it was dark, dilapidated, void of life. Cars everywhere, some damaged, all abandoned. The air was stale and dead, making Blake feel like her own panicked breaths were too loud. It was the very peak of night, and the clouds high above obscured the moon and stars, yet Blake found she could still see somehow. Blake could only stare at it all, completely lacking for any words to explain it. Lacking an explanation in general.

But one thing she did quickly discover was that she was not alone.

Pyrrha was getting to her knees a few strides away, sitting up, and looking around with anxious disbelief. "What's…" she whispered, before trailing off as her eyes found something.

Jaune. He was there too. He'd gotten to his feet first, was the least shaken up by this unexplainable event, and yet he looked the most horrified of them all. His face damn near pale as he looked at Blake and Pyrrha. "No…" he whispered.

"No?" Blake asked, voice weak. "No, what?"

Just then, they all heard something. A distant sound. A bestial roar, but not at all like the kind Blake had ever heard before. The sheer power of it seemed to stir the very air, to send ripples strong enough to cause a sudden breeze, cold and harsh. The sound infected Blake's ears, softened her skin and flesh, iced her very bones, boiled her very blood. Pyrrha let out a horrified shriek before throwing her hands over her mouth. She looked around again, no doubt afraid of where whatever animal had made that sound would come from.

Animal… or monster.

"Over here! Give me your hands!" Jaune grabbed Pyrrha's hand and dragged her over to Blake without a moment of consideration. Blake almost yelped in pain as he took her hand, all strength. Too strong for her to break free of.

Jaune seemed to be doing something, looking up into the sky like he expected something to happen by now. His confusion grew, evolved into anxiety. He grunted out, "Come on! Out! Get us out!"

Blake's mind spun with a torrent of new questions. Out? Out of what or where? Did Jaune know something? Was he familiar with this place? With what had happened?

The boy dropped their hands and stepped back. "What the… why isn't it working? We fell from here!"

Blake jumped at his shout. He knew something, but not enough. Even he was lost in this situation. That did nothing for her evolving fear. "Fell? Jaune, what's—"

Then the roar came again. Louder. Closer.

Jaune threw his face in his hands. "No! This can't be happening. How? How did I take you with me?"

"Jaune, what is this?" Blake was on her feet now, but her knees were shaking so badly that she didn't think she'd be up for very long. "What are you talking about? Tell us what's going on!"

Jaune removed his hands and seemed to have summoned a degree of calm, taking a few shaky breaths, but there was a mode of strength in him now. A commander leading his troops. "We have to get off the street." Jaune said, pulling Pyrrha up by the arm. "Follow me and stay close."

Pyrrha, by comparison, was sobbing uncontrollably, trying to say something but her words came out garbled. She clutched Jaune's arm like it was her floating device and she could not swim.

Jaune turned to Blake, "Off the street. Come on, Blake. And stay close."

Jaune held up his hand and a strange light took shape in his palm. It lasted for all of a second before it vanished, leaving a weapon in its place.

It was a huge ax. A thick blade of dark metal fastened onto a wooden grip. The blade was engraved with strange runes, like a language she could not understand. Blake got a strange feeling just from looking at the ax. It seemed to radiate cold, for a faint white mist emanated from the edge. Making her think of a predator drooling over an anticipated meal.

Before she could question him, Jaune had already turned to head off down the road, Pyrrha clinging to his arm. Blake had no idea what to make of any of this. One moment they were scrubbing a wall, next they were… wherever this place was. Jaune seemed to be the only one with some grasp on things, yet he seemed to know very little. And now he had somehow materialized a weapon? And had done it so casually that she had to think he'd done it before. Maybe even used it before. But why? And on what?

The bestial roar came again this time, making Blake scream this time.

"Blake, hurry up!" Jaune called back, "it's not safe here!"

Blake scrambled to catch up with them, and had to press her hands together to keep them from shaking. When that didn't work, she hugged herself instead. And all that did was convince the rest of her body to tremble, too. She looked at Jaune, barely able to make him out now that she'd started sobbing too. Overwhelmed with fear, wondering how and why any of this had happened. "Jaune, please. What's going on?"

His expression was the definition of grim. Hard, anticipating, eyes scanning everything ahead, like he was expecting something to jump out at them. As such, he did not look at her as he whispered, "For your sake, you're better off not knowing."

This arc is really hard to write for some reason. I can't explain it. Either way, things are about to get pretty interesting now. See you in the next one.

ISA