"Hmm..."
He could hear them all: the passersby and their hushed whispers. Not that Whitley particularly cared for whatever rumors sprung up from his observations; those watching could say what they would - not that they'd have much to say.
"Um, excuse me, sir?" However, upon hearing that, he was more than certain security had taken notice of him. Without looking away, Whitley answered.
"Yes?"
"You're one of Mr. Schnee's kids, right?"
"And what of it?" If the guy already knew that, then what use was there in being a bother? Unfortunately, Whitley knew the answer to that, even if he hadn't known the specific words the soldier would sling his way.
"You're not lost, are you?"
Whitley actually looked away from the screen, showing a face that practically asked, 'do I look lost to you?' To the man's credit, he never flinched. Rather, the soldier merely carried on with what he had to say.
"You are aware the meeting is down in-"
"I am." Whitley stopped him there, straightening himself and turning back to look upon the screen. "However, I'm much more interested in this here, as opposed to the bickering down there."
"Really?" Whitley eyed the man at that, who quickly corrected himself. "I mean, I assumed you might have been interested in the debate."
Stifling a chuckle, Whitley shook his head lightly. That confirmed it: most outsiders assumed all of those in positions of wealth were so fixated on displays of power. He wouldn't blame anyone for thinking such things though; Whitley considered himself an outlier in that regard, even if he knew an occasional few of the wealthy showed interests in more "ordinary" hobbies.
"I'm seventeen, not seventy; my interests go beyond watching a few coffin-riders complain about issues they barely understand." A bit harsh, perhaps, but in the case of his father, it was far truer than most would believe. "Besides," he started again, "I'm permitted some leniency during my stay, no?"
"Well, yeah..." The guy dribbled, sighing as he tidied up his stature afterwards. "It's just... and don't take this the wrong way, but it's a bit jarring to see someone like you mulling over the students' combat scores."
"And is that a problem?" Whitley narrowed his eyes, and while the soldier's own were hidden behind his visor, it was clear from the faint sigh he made that they were rolling.
"No, but the scores are just numbers; half of the time the students' who achieve them can't even be bothered to look."
"Perhaps I find it intriguing how Atlas Academy runs its combat programs." Whitley proposed, looking back at the scoreboard and noting one name in particular. Many would see it as just another student, but considering the random numbers and symbols in the names, Whitley had deduced that the students had some leeway in regards to how they were categorized.
Or, to put it in basic terms: they could customize their usernames, similar to that of his online opponents from his online competitions.
And that was what had him so intrigued by the board: one of those names was an exact replica of that one player he'd become enamored by. Best of all though, that same name held the top score even here; he hadn't just been challenging a gifted opponent during that fight, but this adversary was also the top student in terms of the academy's combat drills - or so the board claimed.
"You do know we have live recordings of the fights, right?" That single fact ripped Whitley's attention away from the board, and the sudden motion appeared to spook the soldier a bit; he internally noted not to act so suddenly next time.
"You do?"
"Uh, yeah." However, and as was to be expected from a member of Atlas's esteemed military, the soldier collected himself immediately. "Normally, it's only the students who've run their drills that request to see the footage, but there's no restrictions as to who's allowed to watch."
"Really?" Whitley expected the recordings to be exclusive to the teams who performed.
"For the most part."
However that did not bode as well as he'd hoped.
"For the most part?" Making sure you understood the proper terms of use were what kept you out of trouble, and Whitley was more than adept at asking the right questions - even if they weren't all that complex.
"You need permission from an instructor to view anything, but otherwise, you're free to do with the copy provided as you wish."
And there it was; the nail in the coffin. Internally, Whitley sighed. While it wasn't a complete guarantee he'd be denied if he asked to see the battle involving the student in his mind, he highly doubted they'd just let him watch it without said student's permission. Plus, with the debate going on right now, there was a chance that particular individual was busy.
"Right... that makes sense." Fixing up the slight ruffle in his collar from the burst of excitement, Whitley offered one final look at the scoreboard and that elusive name before facing the soldier one last time. "Well, I suppose I should be off now anyways; I've had enough eyes on me already, and I doubt the rumors stirring in their minds will be all that flattering if I remain put."
"Alright..." Although clearly at a loss of what to say next, the man settled down on a basic farewell. "Stay safe."
"You as well."
With that, Whitley took off down the hall, opting to just make his way around one last loop of the floor before heading back to the debate and questioning his mother if there were any worthwhile developments; not that he expected many to begin with. Realistically, his father was most likely in the midst of listing off all the issues he has with Ironwood, and why he thinks Robyn is an unsuitable fit for the council.
Truthfully, if there was anything about that scene which could coax a smile from the boy, it was the idea that his father was internally panicking at his son's lacking presence. Whitley left pretty early on before the whole debacle, around five minutes to be exact. While not the longest time spent waiting, he knew how these events went: they usually took upwards to an hour past the requested time before starting in full, and he was not going to sit in a room full of cranky reporters and posh buffoons while they awaited an overplayed argument - it just wasn't happening.
About midway through his loop, Whitley stumbled across a scene most interesting, right as he turned a corner.
.
.
Winter, while she wouldn't say it aloud, felt a tad nervous.
Not that there was anything to be fretful of yet; no no, everything was going according to plan so far. As expected, Robyn pulled a bit of a stunt, and as per the general's word, she'd been sent on her way to fetch that report about what they'd found in her family home. Granted, she never expected to be joined by one of Robyn's girls, but that wasn't too big of an issue. The individual in question was named "May" if their files were to be believed, and from how she was written up, Winter had a sneaking suspicion their observation of her was fairly accurate.
They'd not been gone long, and were on their way to the main elevator to make the trip a bit faster, but in that short time, May had proven rather steadfast. Not a single complaint or attempt at communication was made: merely a stark and sturdy march behind with not a single snicker or sneer. Winter would have found the act threatening, but with so many eyes on them to return, she doubted May would try anything.
Ironwood requested her to help with the "investigation," and so she would.
This meant heading up to the main office, delving into his personal files, and pulling out the requested one. Winter had been briefed a bit before, and knew the general had their more sensitive documents relocated to another server, and disconnected from his personal desk.
Would the lack of anything substantial look suspicious? Yes, it surely would, but May and Robyn would be hard pressed to mention it. They couldn't start anything without proof, which was ironically what they were off to collect, but that was proof for her first accusation. Of course, Winter fully expected the woman to make some noise once May officially filled her in afterwards about the lack of anything in Ironwood's possession, but that was a problem for after the debate.
One issue at a time.
Turning the corner which led towards the lift, Winter was unceremoniously stopped by the sudden appearance of someone who really had no reason to be standing before them.
"Sister?" Whitley's brow raised curiously, and for a moment, Winter too was slightly perplexed.
"Brother?" And then she caught herself, asking, "what are you doing out here?"
"I was enjoying the sighs of this academy you love so much." Never one for missing a chance to annoy her, Winter just had to accept that her brother wouldn't let her sudden appearance slide. "Better yet, what are you doing here?" He questioned, crossing his arms. "Was your attendance not required for the debate?" His eyes slid over to May. "And who might your friend be?"
"I am not her friend." The first words to come from May, and they were a thinly veiled threat. Whitley though, as she expected him to be in situations like this, went completely unbothered by the toxic slime coating every word.
"Ah, my mistake." And then he spat up a cheeky little grin. "Then you must be her lover, of whom she's snuck away from the drab mumblings the council so loves to throw."
"Adorable." May tossed out carelessly, apparently not so easily upset. Whitley mildly shrugged, keeping up his grin as the woman twisted Winter's way. "Come on, let's keep moving - I want this over and done with as soon as possible."
"Oh," Whitley began, curious again. "Why the rush?"
"That's none of your business." Winter wasn't about to let her brother involve himself in anything, especially not when he was in one of his moods. "If you're done with your tour, you may head back to the conference."
"And why would I do that?" He countered. "Especially when I'm having such fun exploring."
"Because father is more likely to chew you out than I." If there was anything Whitley would be wary of, it was their father's opinion. None of them really liked the man, but while her brother may have been just like them in that regard, she knew he'd be more likely to listen with their father hovering over him as a threat.
"Oh please." The boy exclaimed, rolling his eyes. "With the bombardment of constant questions, I doubt he'll notice my absence anytime soon."
"With how things have gone so far, I doubt he's gotten even a single one."
"Hmm?" That hooked his attention, and Winter reeled him in.
"So far, it's been a battle of wits between both Robyn and the general; father hasn't had more than a single suggestion, and even then, he'd been stunned silent."
Her brother leveled his amused wonderings into a flat frown.
"That doesn't sound like him."
Winter straightened her posture, speaking with a guarded tone.
"He's... preoccupied with things." Although it would appear strange, Winter knew the tiny smirk she allowed to escape would pull her brother ashore; his desire for answers would force him to return back to father in the end. "Our final attendant for the event has him... 'shell-shocked' is the best I can describe it. For once, he was the one being left out of the loop."
"We were all left out of the loop." May corrected, ensnaring Winter's eye with that unrequested statement. Crossing her arms, the woman tacked on, "by the way, was there any particular reason you hadn't mentioned having him joining us?"
Winter scowled internally, knowing Whitley would be drawn to ask, but would refrain; she supposed this cemented his decision to return to the venue - if only because she'd just tell him to take a look himself if he had asked.
"No." She faced May fully, making it crystal clear that what she claimed next was true - now whether Robyn's crony chose to believe her was another thing. "His attendance was as much a surprise to us as he was to you. That was the council's call, not ours: we were just following orders."
May scoffed again, gritting her teeth as her sour look deepened.
"Bet that was easy enough for you." The woman looked away, eyes clenched, and grumbling under her breath. "You military types never were ones for questioning commands."
"Maybe not." Winter would concede, if only to draw in May's full attention. "But with lives on the line, it's saved us more people than it's lost."
May simply righted herself once more, waving an arm out and compelling them to move on. Winter accepted the stalemate, sparing her brother a final farewell before they went on their way.
"If you'll excuse us, we have work to do."
Whitley, perhaps understanding they had little time to spare, simply stepped aside, and both May and her were back on their way. Heading up the elevator and thus cutting two minutes from the trip, they crossed along the upper halls a fair bit more in silence, of which Winter was thankful for. The few extra staff and students who were hanging around in the walkways knew from a glance to step out of their path; although Winter wasn't quite certain whether this was done out of respect, or fear.
"Just in here." She said once they came upon the door.
Although their entrance did not go unnoticed, as someone was waiting for them on the other side.
"Figures he'd send you back."
May tensed, prepared for a fight and midway through drawing her weapon. Winter put a stop to this fast, laying an arm between her and their surprise guest. With crossed arms, he leaned against the desk, partially sitting on its top, and facing them with a noticeably grim look. Such an expression would be standard for any of the school's usual staff.
Qrow, however, was not your usual teacher.
"I thought you were watching over things with the others." Seeing as he wasn't supposed to be here, Winter felt the indirect question justified.
"Wish I was." He pressed off the desk, taking a step forward and rolling his neck as he stretched. "But I got word from a friend that something strange was going on up here." Straightening his form, he looked no more happy with his prediction. "Seems they were right."
"Who is he?" May spat, and a quick eye showed her impatience splattered violently across her face. Winter never got the chance to say, as the man in question answered that himself.
"Name's Qrow."
"Right..." May met his eyes, and challenged him. "So, Qrow, what are you doing here?"
Visibly rolling his eyes, he reached back to the desk, tapping his knuckles atop it a few times. "This here."
"That doesn't say much." May tossed out, only for Qrow to level a somewhat disappointed look.
"I'm pretty sure it should be obvious." He turned around, showing his back to them, not once showing any signs of hesitation as he walked around and set his focus on the desk. "I'm here checking up on Ironwoods PC."
"So he has you cleaning up his mess, is that it?" May's accusations appeared to mean nothing to Qrow, who replied in an almost playful manner.
"Kid, if you see Ironwood leaving behind a mess, then that ain't Ironwood." A holographic screen shot up between them and Qrow. "There's no one better at washing their hands than him. Which, I guess, is why I sat here for the past five minutes waiting for you slowpokes to arrive."
"Qrow." Winter butt in before May could throw anymore accusations. Beginning her short journey to him, she was begrudgingly joined by a now armed May, who tensed as they got close enough to the screen to glance at what it showed. "What's going on?"
The scowl he'd dressed himself in looked so out of place; while she knew he could be serious from time to time, the level of uncertainty baked into his expression felt more akin to the general. Once they got around to look at the screen front on, Qrow began pointing out the issues.
"Remember when I said we should keep watch over the debate?" He started, and Winter nodded, which forced him to continue. "Well, I think we had eyes in the wrong place."
Winter wanted to ask why he thought so, but the document he had open right now had stolen her attention away. It wasn't the briefing she'd been expecting, oh no, that would be leagues better than what she was reading through right now. May, unlike her, had no issues with letting her temper get the best of her, and she verbalized her emotions for both to hear.
"That son of a bitch..." May turned slowly to them, backing up a bit and appeared to be debating on whether to fight them for what seemed like solid proof of foul play, or to run and hope the trouble her claims would cause might be enough to force the council themselves to seize the content sitting before their eyes. "You..."
And then she caught on to their own reactions, and adjusted her own outburst to match, all the while lowering her guard just a tad; she was testing them, but at the same time, she also looked to be putting the pieces together.
"We what?" Qrow tried, and after swallowing, May said her mind.
"You didn't know about this... did you?"
Qrow cast a look at the document again, and then shot it back to her. "You mean this load of junk?"
May narrowed her eyes; nevertheless she hit him up on the idea he'd inched their way.
"So, you're saying it's-?"
"Fake? Yeah, I am." He went back to the screen, not so much with certainty in his voice, but instead a sublime prick of wariness. "I get it though; it fooled me a little too the first time I read it. But with a second look and some pointing out, I can say for certain it isn't his work."
"And how can you be sure?" May didn't believe him, that much was obvious, but she seemed willing to hear him out at the very least.
Winter had to admit, she was curious also. They'd only gotten a few paragraphs in, but it looked damning enough. Not only did the string of text speak about the S.D.C. by name - even if it never went into detail right then - but it also brought up V. Adding on with a mention of keeping the council - as well as herself - busy while Robyn was taken care of, and you have a... disturbing set of circumstances.
More so when it named Salem herself outright, and in the very first line too.
"Positive." But Qrow wasn't moved, and Winter wanted to know what about the rest of the document cracked the lie wide open. "And I have all the proof right here."
Winter, as she read the section he pointed out, fully understood what he meant. The problem thereafter was explaining it to May in a fashion that made any logical sense. May, in turn, didn't get it.
"He's trying to play Torchwick, so what?"
On its own it didn't seem helpful. The section mentioned doctoring a few photos to make it look like Roman had aided Robyn and Jacques in some sort of behind the scenes deal, which was coincidentally just what May could use to prove Robyn's suspicions of foul play true. However there was an issue with that plan: it implied Roman was a third party actor. Whoever wrote up this doc hadn't known Roman had been unofficially admitted into their little circle.
Considering they could just have Neo snap such damning evidence personally; there was no reason for the method mentioned here - even if said method made sense without the final piece of knowledge.
As far as this plot was concerned, Roman Torchwick had yet to be bribed from Robyn's side, and was an active free criminal in Mantle.
Then again, that still didn't solve the issue of proving this document's fraudulence to May.
"Yeesh. Do they really think I'd take a bribe that low?"
Roman's sudden appearance proved that things could always get worse. Winter drew her weapon on him, solely for the act of keeping up appearances, only for Qrow to ruin it a second later by tossing out the equivalent of a good morning hello.
"Apparently they do."
May, looking carefully between the three and seeing Qrow's lack of reaction, Winter's own spring of action towards the criminal with her sword to his neck - which he promptly ignored - and Roman's cheerful grin, then opened up again with the response you'd expect.
"What's going on here?"
Roman was far too happy for what he both said and implied.
"Some goober thinks I'll take a bribe as low as that sad little number."
"No no no." May stopped him. "I'm asking why you are here."
Roman made an 'oh' with his mouth, smiling again and patting the desk.
"Oh yeah." He let his grin even out calmly, taking a more relaxed standing as Winter kept her sword to his throat. "I'm the one who got my drinking buddy here in the loop."
May merely blinked, and Roman apparently took her silence as a lack of understanding. Shaking his head, the gentleman thief attempted to rectify that perceived issue.
"I'm saying it was I who filled Qrow in on the legitimacy of the note." He then cast a squinted eye to the holographic screen. "Or should I say, baby's first manifesto."
"And why would you do that?" May tried getting them back on track, and it worked, because Roman told her straight up, as if he had nothing to hide.
"Because we're buddies."
Author's note
...
Okay, I'm really tired this time.
Whitley got to show up again; now knows his secret gamer friend is part of the academy - what effect will this have down the line, if any at all? May, Robyn's ally, now has a choice to make: does she hear Roman and the rest out, or does she scoot and tell everyone what Roman obviously implied.
That's it for now. Good day.
