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Requested by : Polemoduke
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Blake woke up with her leg stuck at an odd, uncomfortable angle, messy hair, someone snoring straight into her ears, and sweat from a bed far too warm for her liking. They'd put the bed in the corner and, more the fool, she had gotten into bed first - caving when Nora pouted and batted her eyes, the absolute fiend. So, slowly, she'd been pushed towards the wall, until Nora had more or less swaddled her and a pillow in a big hug and fallen asleep. She was still there, too, and to blame for the snoring in her ear, and the fact that Blake couldn't find a way to escape to use the bathroom. Hot, sweaty, stiff in a leg and with her ear flicking in agitation…
She hadn't woken up so well in a while.
Eventually, though, she had to try and escape, if only to get to the bathroom before Yang did. Ren noticed her after a bit, sitting up and helping her free herself so she could slide down the bed and stretch out her leg while she grabbed the uniform she'd left hanging on one of the little hooks Nora had gotten. The kind that stuck to the wall with little double-sided tape, of course - not ones that needed to be nailed in, and risk Goodwitch coming down on them.
Turning, she waved at the man and mouthed, 'Thanks.'
He just waved her off, sighed when Nora turned to pull him into a snuggle, and closed his eyes to sleep a bit more.
Yang was in the bathroom when she came in, brushing her teeth while her hair air-dried. She flicked Blake a look and scooted over so Blake could pick up her own while she grunted around a mouthful of toothpaste, "G'morn."
"Don't talk with your mouth full."
Yang rolled her eyes, spat, and flicked the faucet on for the both of them before she sighed, "I sink zat is only for food."
"No bad puns or accents before…" She looked for either of their Scrolls and, when she didn't see them, shrugged, "Noon."
"What?" Yang scoffed, "How is that fair?"
"Life isn't fair." She shrugged, "Is it?"
"Oh, you're cruising for a bruising…"
"I'll tell Nora." Blake smiled when Yang grunted, scoffed and groaned all at once, turning back to rinse off her toothbrush and grabbing the mouthwash.
"That's, like, a war crime…" Yang muttered darkly, "I'm pretty sure Huntresses aren't supposed to do that."
"They're supposed to protect each other from cruel monsters." Blake shrugged, smirking at the blonde, "I'm fairly sure your sense of humor is on the list. Somewhere between 'Beowolf' and 'Nevermore', if I had to guess…"
"Just because your girlfriend is way more protective than she should be-"
"Pot, meet very blonde kettle."
"-doesn't mean you can weaponize her." Yang scoffed, rolling her eyes and running a hand through her hair to check how wet it was and open it up so it could dry better. Knowing exactly what Blake was getting at, though, the blonde grunted, "Also, I am not over protective of Ruby. She's my baby sister. I'm exactly the right amount of protective."
"Uh huh…"
"If I was over protective," Yang argued, "I'd be dead."
"Why…?"
"Because I'd take a swing at Pyrrha," Yang shrugged, "and she would bury me."
"Fair…" Blake nodded, thinking while she brushed her spat and turned, raising an eyebrow, "Wait, you see it, too?"
"I am a very perceptive pot." Yang snorted, cocking her head, "Or would I be the kettle in that…?"
"The world wonders." Blake rolled her eyes, "But be whatever you are out there. I need a shower."
"But my hair isn't dry…"
"Suffer." Blake smiled, waving her towards the door - and bumping her hip when she only pouted and didn't move.
"Fine, fine, I'm going…" She sighed, washing her toothbrush off and smiling. "You're in a good mood this morning."
She just shrugged and nodded, "I slept well. Nice and warm…"
"I'm not joining the cuddle pile." Yang snorted, "I'll stick to my own corner, thanks."
Blake just shrugged again and let her go, washing off her toothbrush and turning for the shower with a sigh.
By the time she came back out, Ren and Nora were both awake and dressed for the day. The former was making their bed, kneeling so he could set the pillows in the corner while Yang finished making her own in the other corner. And ignored Nora's little pout whenever she looked at it. The pouting died when she saw Blake, though, and hopped up to give her a hug and steal a quick kiss. Blake smiled into it and, when Nora started to pull away, had an idea and followed, wrapping a hand around her hip and turning, dipping her over the bed before she picked her up and let her stumble away, blinking.
Blake left her there, blinking owlishly while Yang snorted in the corner, and went over to the bookshelf by the door to find something for the day. Finally, Nora laughed, loud and bright, "Well you are in a mood…"
"A good one, if the prophetic pot is to be believed."
"Prophetic…" Nora shrugged, plopping onto the end of the bed and sighing. "Well, whatever happened to do that, Imma need notes so I can keep it up, hot stuff."
"Gaaaaaaaay."
"Biiiiiiiiii." Nora crowed back, tossing a pen at Yang and rolling her eyes while Blake sat at one of their desks, getting out her pen and paper. "Whatcha workin' on?"
"A proposal." She answered quietly, flicking Nora - and then Yang and Ren - a look and pursing her lips as old anxieties tried to well up. Quashing them, though, she explained quietly, "I… Want to do a cultural booth for the Vytal Festival. Vale will have a small fair, and my father is still in town running the White Fang, so… Yeah."
"Paperwork needs to get in, yeah?" Nora asked, suddenly completely serious as she joined her, looking over her shoulder at the forms and the empty paper she needed to draft her proposal on.
"Yes…?"
"Cool," she clapped her on the shoulder and turned to leave, "you do that, I'll go talk to my super secret contact to get it taken care of."
"What do you-"
"Nora, talking to Port is not espionage…"
"It is when I have to sneak past Goodwitch to do it~" She chirped, waving as she stepped through the door and giggled, "Byyyyyye, babes! And Yang!"
"Hey, wait a minute-"
"Don't." Ren sighed sufferingly as Nora vanished and Yang took a step towards the door, grinning like an idiot, "Just… Just let her go. Before she drafts us to follow."
Blake just rolled her eyes and got to work.
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"But- It would be awesome!" Winchester argued hotly, standing and scowling darkly, "Work-outs are important, and civilians oughta be interested in the differences between a Hunter's regimen and a civilian one! It's educational!"
"To an extent, yes, but it is not very entertaining." Which was tragic, honestly. For once, Winchester had actually had a rather inspired idea, and the passion to back it up, and neither was related to harassing the local Faunus population. She wanted to applaud it, for that reason alone, but instead she tried to explain while he paced in front of her desk angrily. "Your idea has merit, Mister Winchester, but the Vytal Fair is a yearly fund-raiser for Beacon Academy, as well as civilian outreach. Your idea offers nothing that can be sold and otherwise engaged for benefit."
"But-"
"However," she said, cutting him off with a raised hand, "if you could find a few other students, not on your team, and a staff member willing to sponsor it, then perhaps we could arrange a display area at the edges of the fairgrounds. Numerous displays will be out there, but a work-out tutorial is not appropriate usage for booth-space."
"I guess…"
"Here." She said, handing him back his paperwork and smiling as she added the last form he needed. "This is a register for students. If a member of staff signs off on it, you will be given an area and a small fund to set up."
"Uh, alright…" He grumbled, "Thanks?"
"Of course, Mister Winchester." She nodded, "Please, send the next waiting student in."
He nodded and, as he left, she took the moment to refresh her cup of coffee and make sure her desk was neat. It was, as always, but on long days like this it was all too easy to let it get disordered, and that was not the image she wanted students to come into. They all deserved her best, after all. Even if all she had to drink was Atlesian Black…
"My kingdom for some Vacuoan blends…" She sighed, adding sugar and settling as the door opened and she smiled, "Hello… Miss Valkyrie."
"Wow, I feel welcome…" She chuckled, taking the seat across from her and handing the Headmistress the little binder holding her paperwork. Smiling roguishly, the Mistralian leaned forward a bit to ask, "What ever could I have done to warrant that…"
"Nothing against policy."
"But not nothing at all…"
Glynda just sighed and opened the folder, picking up the proposal sheet and humming quietly, "This is Miss Belladonna's handwriting… And signature."
"And mine, right-"
"Next to it." She nodded, skimming over the summary section for any overt errors or concerns, and then flipping to the next page to check her list of needs. Impressively, it was not only notarized properly - including the size of their booth and space separately, which even some members of staff forgot to differentiate. Going back to the summary page, she read and hummed, "You want to do a cultural booth?"
"Mhm."
"Mistrali?" She asked, before she caught a word and grunted, "Ah. Faunus."
"Yup!"
"And you are also registered because…?"
"I'm dating the princess?"
"Menagerie does not have a princess." She sighed, setting the pages aside and checking the detailed guest list. "But your relationship does involve you, I suppose. Though I should warn you that some may not be very… Understanding of your- Ghira Belladonna?!"
"Weird…" Nora cocked her head, "I don't have one of those."
"This is serious, Miss Valkyrie." Goodwitch scoffed, flicking the woman a look when she just hummed and pursed her lips in a way that years of teaching told her the student opposite her did not agree. Leaning forward, she said, "Miss Valkyrie you need to understand that, for all the changes made, the recent White Fang attack-"
"Is irrelevant, as all perpetrators were arrested, and are either in prison or awaiting court. Further, as the Chieftain has diplomatic immunity, none of that is relevant, legally, to us having a booth." Nora rattled out, like she was reading off a script. Or a legal notice. "Beacon policy, page eighty four, section two, if you're curious- Anyway, it dictates that, when a parent or family member is relevant to a booth proposal, they are granted a right to presence if the proposal itself is authorized."
"Page and section…" Goodwitch hummed, "I'm sure the good Doctor would enjoy if you were so thorough with your history assignments."
"Doctor Oobleck doesn't have as nice of a butt." She shrugged, laughing quietly when Goodwitch flinched, "Sorry. What I mean is-"
"You care because of your partner." She nodded, "I… Took the meaning. The phrasing merely surprised me."
"Fair."
"Regardless," Glynda sighed, drumming her finger on the desk - and fighting the urge to take the bottle out of it and add something warm to her coffee - she explained. "Beacon Academy is a tightly run ship, Miss Valkyrie. The Council of Vale gives us precisely as much as they believe we need as of a contract from twenty years ago which, if you will forgive the candidness-"
"Sure."
"-does not account for inflation, and is why we charge as much as we usually do for non-scholarship attendees." She did not say, of course, that Miss Rose, three out of four of Miss Valkyrie's own team, and Mister Arc had all been paid as scholarships, or by Beacon Academy itself, making up about half of their incoming class. Which, of course, made matters all the worse. "I would be over-joyed to have Menagerie properly represented in this manner, but…"
"You're worried about money."
"I am worried about money." She sighed sadly, "Yes."
For a long moment, they were quiet…
Gently, Goodwitch said, "I am sorry. But… My concern is for all of our students, and the good they will do for all of Vale. And beyond."
"Mhm." Nora nodded, humming, "Okay. How much?"
"I'm sorry?"
"You said that already." Nora sighed, "How much would our booth need to make, guaranteed, with visitors?"
For a moment, Goodwitch watched the other woman. Unlike Miss Belladonna, Miss Valkyrie was cool as a proverbial cucumber. The former would have scowled and growled, called out the injustice of it all, and Glynda would have agreed. Not that it would have done either of them any good. Instead, Miss Valkyrie immediately asked what was needed to fix the problem. Immediately accepted its nature, and turned to solutions. It would have been mature, even admirable.
If it weren't so sad…
"Your booth would need security." She said by way of answer, "Security with hazard pay, and additional space to the sides. But you knew that, didn't you?"
"Did I?"
"You requested fifteen feet to the sides…" Goodwitch smiled, "And the rear. Why would a booth need space to the rear, Miss Valkyrie?"
"I thought I'd lay out a chair." She shrugged, "Catch some sun."
"Or have a barricade." Glynda nodded, "With five armed security officers."
"Sure." She shrugged again, face flat. Not emotionless, or broken - she'd seen that on more Huntress' faces than she cared to admit - just flat. Calm.
"The officers will cost Beacon four thousand for the week, plus two thousand for insurance." She explained quietly, "Supplies, like the barricades, will run around a thousand. If we had that covered… Well, the losses would be minimal enough. But in deficit for that, we would run behind on ammunition, food, general-purpose Dust…"
"I understand." Miss Valkyrie stood, "I'll have it by morning, if I can borrow a Bullhead?"
"You have it." That, at least, she would cover herself. Sighing, she said, "I will be awake by five, waiting. Port is your sponsor, and I will sign to it."
"Got it." She nodded, hesitating after a step before she said. "If Blake asks… I forgot my Scroll in your office and went out to hit up a club. Okay?"
"Alright." She nodded, "What are you-"
Miss Valkyrie was gone before she could finish, door slamming behind her, and Glynda knew she should have pursued her. Stopped her, before she went to Vale and found several thousand dollars to fund her girlfriend's dream. Or the start of it, at least. But… She didn't get up, or chase her, or call the Bullheads to tell them not to let her go.
Instead, she picked up Miss Valkyrie's Scroll from where it had been waiting, at the back of the folder, and set it in her drawer.
Then sent a message to the late-night pilot, 'Let Miss Valkyrie ride along for the supply run - and back in the morning.'
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Nora leaned against the corner of the building, listening - and feeling - the beat of the music inside thrumming through the walls and into her. Even outside, it was there. As inescapable as the mist clinging to her blue hood, and the smell of garbage and vomit wafting out of the alleyway beside her. She fought not to flinch as a police car shot by, siren screaming, and watched it go. Finally, she heard a door open and bang shut and pushed off the corner, turning as a woman in red approached her and pitched a bag at her feet.
"The exact amount, all clean, varied bills and age." Miltia said, crossing her arms while Nora knelt to pick the bag up. "As agreed."
"Yep." She nodded, shouldering it and gesturing at the light rain. "I'd count it, but…"
"The Malachites are as good as their word." She nodded, smiling rakishly, "Junior, too. And they expect their favors to be returned."
"It will be," Nora nodded, shuffling the bag a bit and asking. "Scroll in there?"
"Yep. Keys to a room at Red Roger's, too, for the night." Miltia nodded, turning to leave, "Keep it charged. If we need a Huntress, we'll call you."
Nora watched her leave, turned, and stepped out into the rain.
Blake was going to love her stand…
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Nora's past habits come back to do… Stuff. Haunt her? Help her?
Who knows! *evil cackling*
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Geralt Rex :
Basically a minotaur, yeah.
