Hey everyone, a really early chapter isn't it? Now, I don't usually make author's notes outside the start of a new arc, but I felt that this one was necessary as I needed to address a serious issue with my story.
First and foremost, I've received a lot of PM's in regards to chapter 32 saying (or similar to) : "Thumbelina and Oobleck Raping and Molesting Hawkins is fucked up as hell and it's a fucking retarded joke."
I tried to reason with them and reminded them that my story was rated M, though I still sincerely apologize if I gave off the impression that I supported topics such as sexual abuse, that was never my intention as I wanted to use the vague gag between Hawkins and the couple of GPPO for humor and nothing more. If necessary, I will rewrite chapters 31-33 to explore better avenues of comedy that don't come off as insulting to the general public but that might take me a month or more depending on how I go about it.
Again, I wholeheartedly apologize for the breaking of Hawkins' character and making him OC to serve my poor writing abilities, and I will strive to improve with the aid of the wiki and other source materials moving forward.
With that, have a great day everyone, and happy reading.
Cheers, SeaRoar.
"What do you mean you found a singer?" Jacques tapped his foot with crossed arms as he stared down the poor stage manager.
"I-I simply followed the instructions you gave me, Mr. Schnee!" The man in question defended.
"What instructions? First off, there never was a second singer, to begin with!" The nobleman fumed.
The manager blinked. "Hold on, then why did you propose a duet at the last minute? Couldn't we have just gone with the original performance as planned then?"
"That's not the point! Now, tell me who exactly decided to slip onto the stage with my wife? Is it actually a Valesian singer?"
"Well, we assume so sir, but if you want to speak with him you'll have to wait once his performance is over." The manager said firmly.
"Very well..." Jacques sulked and left the manager to his own devices. "Lucci!"
Stepping into the scene was the Schnee's personal butler. He wore his usual white suit with the Schnee emblem imprinted on his tie and tipped his hat in acknowledgment of his supposed superior.
"How can I be of service, Mr. Schnee?"
The nobleman rolled his eyes. "You're good at finding people, aren't you? I want you to hunt down whoever is impersonating my fake singer so I can have a word with him! He's tall, blonde, and has a dismissive look about him and I want him found before we leave tonight!"
The secret zoan chuckled. "But isn't it you who proposed this whole duet nonsense, to begin with? Your wife put a great deal of time and effort in memorizing the script to perfection, and I'm sure the people watching would be disappointed to spectate anything less."
"Don't you get it, Lucci?! There never was a second singer, I made it all up! Besides, the claims of a duet performance are in Willow's name, not mine."
"I see..." The leopard smirked, how low was this snob willing to stoop to get what he wanted?
With that, Lucci excused himself from the scene and began his meticulous detective work. Finding a man fitting Jaqcues' descriptions wouldn't be too hard, seeing any professional would prefer to stray away from the risk of intoxication. So that cut out the majority of sloshed hunters and huntresses.
Spotting a familiar head of green, Lucci nimbly made his way over to Monet who appeared to be lost in her own thoughts. A tap on the shoulder, the woman visibly shuddered and turned to meet her acquaintance.
"Lucci? What do you want?"
"You've mingled a lot with the people in the auditorium haven't you?" The man asked.
"Yes, what of it?"
"Mr. Schnee wants me to find someone who's impersonating as a Valesian singer, and seeing that you're a rather sociable type I figured you'd narrow my search." Lucci curled a brow at Monet's deadpanned visage.
"All because I've chatted here and there that doesn't mean I'll be able to help you. Besides, I have my own concerns to deal with."
Lucci smirked. "Does it have anything to do with that stranger you saved earlier? To think you of all people would extend a hand of aid free of charge. I am surprised."
Monet blushed. "That's none of your business."
"It isn't," the zoan shrugged, "but this entire night has been a nightmare for entertainment so I'll take what I can get."
"You don't really give a damn about Jacques orders do you?" A tinge of annoyance nicked Monet's tone.
"Hmph, other than his wife's success, I don't see why that stuffy noble is so riled up. Given the amount of praise he's received for assisting the downtrodden farmers of Vale, his company has practically skyrocketed in terms of reputation. Now back on topic, this Hawkins fellow..."
"Can't you just drop it?" The greenette sighed.
"Aw, there's no need to be so adamant!" A wicked cackle boomed.
Walking over to the confused pair, a scorpion Faunus rubbed his hands together with a giddy smile plastered on his face.
"Tyrian?" Monet and Lucci said in unison.
"Do pardon my intrusion, but I couldn't help but overhear you two gossiping! Would you like me to shed some light on Monet's embarrassment, Lucci?"
The zoan nodded eagerly while the logia tried to kill the Faunus with her glare.
"It really was quite a shock, according to my teammate Qrow, the stoic magician decided to break character and bombard our dear Monet with genuine compliments! And they weren't your ordinary cookie-cutter praises, no sir, they were those likely to a poet with the intent to confess to a long-lost love!"
"T-Tyrian!" Monet hissed. Her cheeks now red as a cherry.
"Is that so?" Lucci's smirk widened.
"Indeed!" The Faunus chortled. "Why, you should have seen the jealous look on our snow bird's visage when Hawkins was about to get kissed! I don't think I've ever seen a person radiate such a malevolent aura! Other than my wonderful goddess of course."
"He didn't get kissed!" The greenette blurted, much to everyone's surprise.
"Uh-huh, why don't you fill Lucci and I on all the details? Because if you don't I'll continue to ramble on about how Hawkins traded tongues with-"
"Fine, I'll tell you!" Monet's defenses caving, she rubbed her temples and looked away, unable to meet the inquisitive smirks of her cohorts as she tried her best to lessen the heavy dusting of pink on her cheeks.
Calming her voice, the woman retold the moments between Hawkins' return from the gardens and his conspicuous kissing fiasco with the couple of GPPO.
/-/
"Hawkins, is that you?" Laughed a drunken peachette. Her hair freely flowing around her slumped shoulder, she teetered over to her stoic acquaintance with a half-lidded smile.
"Ms. Peach?" Hawkins stepped back. Unwilling to aid his date's sloshed partner, he moved to the side in hopes of passing her, but Thumbelina's will for socializing proved too great.
"Where do you think you're going?" She lurched forward and wrapped her arms around the magician's neck. For a woman standing at five-foot-three inches, she sure could jump.
Thumbelina puffed her cheeks. "Hey, you didn't ditch my best friend did you?"
"I'm trying to look for her," Hawkins said with a straight face but was lying through his teeth.
"Hm, I don't believe you."
Damn it, Thumbelina was more perceptive than Hawkins gave her credit for.
Again, the magician attempted to retreat, but his advances were snuffed by a tightened grip.
"You know, Glynda was actually looking forward to this date with you."
The blonde blinked. "What?"
"Yep! She spent the entire morning picking out makeup that would compliment the dress you bought her, and then the whole afternoon applying it! If I didn't arrive to hurry the process, she probably would've been late to the reunion!" The peachette giggled.
Wandering eyes from surrounding staff and hunters landing on the odd scene by the bathrooms, many muttered aloud as to why Thumbelina was dangling off Hawkins' neck like a tire swing but silenced themselves at Hawkins' crimson glare.
"Actually, now that I think about it..." The swaying huntress released her hold and nonchalantly tapped her chin. "I think you and my leader would make a good pair. To be completely honest, Glynda's never shown an interest in anyone before, so it threw me for a loop of a lifetime to hear that she made the first move. I'd consider that a big step wouldn't you?"
The magician's eyes rolled. "Why does this topic keep rearing its ugly head?"
"Ugly? What's so ugly about Glynda?" Thumbelina huffed with her hands on her hips.
"Nothing, I'm simply referring to events which occurred not too long ago. If anything, I will admit that Ms. Goodwitch is indeed an attractive woman desired by many men. With Mr. Ironwood as obvious proof."
Thumbelina spat out her tongue with closed eyes. "Hmph, James can try all he wants but he isn't getting anywhere anytime soon in the love department. Not after what he tried to pull during our shared mission in Mantle. That aside, is Glynda's outer beauty all you care about?"
"Are you asking me what my preferences are?"
A hiccup, followed by an alcoholic burp, the peachette pinched her nose and sighed. "Can't you read the room, Hawkins? But yes, I am asking about what you desire in a significant other."
His mind wavering, his crimson gaze wandered the room and subconsciously landed on a noticeable head of red-tinted locks. Her eyes a bright silver, her arm was around that of another blonde who wore a kind smile.
"Um, hello, earth to Hawkins?"
The magician slowly blinked and turned back to the huntress before him.
"Whether I hold affections for your leader are private to me and me alone. If I do plan to make a move of affection, I will do so by my terms. Understand?"
"Loud and clear." Thumbelina smiled, her drunkenness more apparent than ever, a mischievous glint and pearly smile spread on her face as the shots of vodka worked through her bloodstream.
"Say... have you ever kissed anyone before?"
"Why is that significant to the situation?" Hawkins grumbled.
"Um... I know I've been pretty quiet so far, but I'd recommend that you do what you do best and get out of here, Hawkins." Bastion interrupted with urgency.
"I intended to do that from the beginning, but why the rush?" Hawkins mentally replied.
"Let's just say that I've been in a similar predicament as the one you're in now. If you want to keep your lips free of makeup, I'd suggest you leave on a hasty and polite note." The spirit pushed on.
"Hey, I asked you a question, or are you too embarrassed to answer in the negative?"
A weight on his neck, Thumbelina had once again wrapped her arms around Hawkins' neck, only this time with puckered lips. Crimson pupils wide, the magician covered the sloshed woman's mouth with his gloved hand and pushed her face back.
"Don't be like that, I plan on becoming a teacher in the near future, so take this as a personal lesson from a certified professor!" The huntress protested and pried her lips from the blonde's fingers.
"Ms. Peach?! Get a hold of yourself, you have a boyfriend don't you?!"
"And this is my queue to depart... I'll see you in a bit Hawkins, that is if you're still in one piece." Bastion's voice faded into the background as drunken cheers and wild claps echoed around the bewildered blonde.
"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" The small crowd chanted.
"Ooberry! Your Peachplum needs help!"
Galloping with the force of a whirlwind, a messy head of green hair stomped past the crowd carrying a half-emptied wine bottle in his right hand. His shirt and slacks wrinkled, his glasses threatened to fall off his nose at the slightest provocation.
"Yes, my beloved, what seems to be the conundrum?!" Oobleck roared.
"Hawkins is planning to give our leader a smooch later, but he doesn't know how!"
A lightbulb brighter than the sun dinged over the history enthusiast. "But of course, how could I have been so blind! Of course, for the betterment of my wonderful leader and to satisfy the plea of my devoted girlfriend, I Bartholomew Oobleck, will provide whatever assistance necessary!"
His speed unmatched, the doctor whizzed past Hawkins' line of sight and took hold of the magician's broad shoulders.
"There we are, now prepare thy lips my dear card reader, and allow my Peachplum to bestow a gift that rivals history!"
The blonde lurched against his human restraints and almost threw Thumbelina clear off his person if not for the surprisingly strong grip of Doctor Oobleck.
"You're in a relationship with the woman who wants to kiss me, how are you not disturbed by this fact?" Hawkins growled and continued to shield his face from Thumbelina's alcoholic lips.
"Oh, you don't need to worry about that my meticulous friend! I'm sure my Peachplum has already devised a contingency plan for my petty jealousy that we'll no doubt file through together!" The grenette laughed.
"That's right! Our leader's happiness is the priority right now, and since she's always doing her best to make us a stellar team, we need to make sure her future boyfriend meets her standards!" Thumbelina added.
Hawkins balled his hand into a fist and raised it, but the thought of knocking out a respected hunter couple in a den filled with their peers didn't sound so good on paper. Instead, he took advantage of his superior size and forced himself and his acquaintances to a side table stacked with meals that had long lost their warmth.
Then again, he did have his devil fruit powers on deck but thinking things over, him becoming a devilish scarecrow in a hall of hunters trained to kill monstrous beings didn't sound too great either.
His options limited, Hawkins forced Oobleck's back against the wall and snagged a loaf of bread.
"Pucker up Hawk-umpf!" Her mouth stuffed with cold carbs, Thumbelina was spitting crumbs as the magician reached for another piece of food.
"Alright that was funny, but how about we get back to busine-urgl!" This time a crusty apple pie saved Hawkins' lips.
"Hawkins, what are you doing?! My Peachplum put a lot of effort into her makeup and hair, and you're ruining it with your stubbornness!" Oobleck frowned.
"Do you have any notion of what you and your beloved are trying to accomplish here?! I never asked to be kissed!" The blonde roared.
Patting the clumps of apple sauce and crust from her visage, Thumbelina puckered up once again, determination practically burning in her chocolate-colored pupils. Sweat trickling down his forehead, Hawkins reached for another plate but a swift kick from Oobleck denied him his nutritious shields.
Threatened by an intoxicated duo who'd long since lost their bearings, the magician reached out in vain for anything that would save him. A frosty numbness nicking through his gloves and into his skin, the sensation quickly turned into a physical one that added a significant weight to his wrist.
Checking his peripherals, his eyes widened at the sight of a solid snowball that encircled his fist. In fear of acting in unwilling intimacy, the magician raised his hand to block the drunken lips of Ms. Peach.
"Poof!~"
"Yikes, that's cold!" Thumbelina slurred as Oobleck's glasses fell to the ground.
"What's this?! Has the temperature in the room dropped that many degrees in such a short span of time?!" Her boyfriend coughed as his hold on Hawkins weakened.
Seeing this could be his only chance, the magician jumped back slamming Oobleck against the wall, and pried off a dazed Thumbelina then threw her into her boyfriend's arms. Fleeing from the mocking hunters and jeering staff, he forced his way past to the backstage compartments of the auditorium for some much-needed privacy.
"Alright, you lot that's enough!" Roared a tone of authority that shut the drunken mouths of the rude spectators.
Port, who'd been alerted by a timid waiter who couldn't find the headmaster, arrived on the scene as quickly as his boots would carry him.
"Oh, is that you Port?" Thumbelina hiccuped as Oobleck cradled her in his arms.
"That's enough you two!" Port said crossly. "I thought we made it clear that we weren't going to get drunk tonight, but you've gone ahead and failed spectacularly. Now I'm going to keep an eye on you for the rest of the night until my bullhead to Mantle arrives, so you'd better straighten yourselves out before I get Glynda to punish you!"
Faces paled at the thought of their leader's wrath.
"S-Sorry, I guess I'm a little tipsier than I thought..." Thumbelina lamented.
"I-I apologize, as a historian, I should have known the consequences of liquor more than anyone..." Oobleck gently allowed his girlfriend's heels to touch the floor and rubbed his neck.
The stout gentleman sighed. "Alright, as long as you remember what you've done wrong I won't press it any further. Now, I'll lead you two to the bathroom as I'm well aware that neither of you can hold your booze for very long and check back after you've done your business."
As the muttering crowds dispersed, Port hoisted each of his buzzed companions on his shoulders and brought them to the restrooms with a raised head.
Meanwhile, hidden from view in the corners of the dining tables, a woman with long green locks and amber eyes fiddled with her magenta barrette as she fixed her sights on a retreating magician. Her lips curled to a frown, she tried to trail his path but was distracted by the abrupt announcement that Ms. Schnee's performance would continue as planned from the stage mic.
/-/
"All that to say that you lent Hawkins some snow?" Tyrian tilted his head and yawned.
"I guess Monet enjoys the sound of her voice." Lucci sighed.
The woman in question shot them an icy glare. "You're the ones who asked me what I saw!"
"Yes, and now I regret that I did." Tyrian groaned and waved a dismissive hand. "If that's all you have to share then I'll give you some space, but don't forget that we have a meeting with the others tomorrow morning."
"Yes, of course," Monet clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes.
Lucci said nothing and departed, his destination set at the side of the now irritated Jacques Schnee who appeared to be rambling at a nervous stage manager.
"Hmph, all that bother for nothing," Monet said irritably and poured herself her final glass of wine for tonight.
Staring at her surrounding with a lack of interest, the greenette let out a tired breath and narrowed her sights on the elevated front stage where technicians were scrambling to get all their equipment sorted for the big event to come.
The clicks of large levers echoing across the dimming auditorium, the low hum of strings, and the booming lungs of an electric organ filled the ears of its audience as the elegant Ms. Schnee strutted through a thin veil of mist. A white mask to go with her dress, she made her way to the standing mic with a hand on her chest.
All eyes on the noblewoman, no one noticed a looming presence of golden hair waiting in the background, silently contemplating with the spirit who managed to sucker him into this ridiculous predicament.