Adam laid down covering fire with Blush's coaxial rifle as he backed away. Atlas rifles answered him. Too many for him to beat at range, and closing with them would end with him encircled.
No. Much as it galled him, it was time to retreat. He'd stalled the Atlesian advance long enough for the rest of the Fang to escape; there was no point in staying longer.
Bullets whizzed by him as he ducked and dipped; they blasted into walls and showered him with splinters and drywall. He fired one more time, was gratified to hear a cry of pain, then darted back to the building's rear exit.
He threw open the door, passed through—and planted with a savage smile. It wouldn't do to have them following him, now would it?
He focused his Aura, tapping the pressure and anger held in his blade, and swung at the ceiling just inside the door.
Moonslice: the power of vengeance given form.
The blast of red energy burst through the ceiling, which was also the floor of the story above, compromising structural supports and causing a cascade of...
It all started to fall down. Adam turned and sprinted away.
He distantly heard Mantas buzzing around, trying to identify where the Fang had fled to. The Fang was a step ahead, as usual, thanks to Tyrian's "clever little friend". A storefront with compromised alarms had served as a great pass-through, letting the Fang dip out of line of sight from the air and reemerge elsewhere, closer to their next safehouse...
People needed to stop using such stupid words as "safehouse" in Adam's vicinity.
Focus! He followed in the path of his allies, sprinted through the store, through a breached wall between it and its next-door neighbor, out the back exit of that building, into an alley-
-where metal was clashing and guns were blazing.
It took a stunned Adam a moment to understand. There was Tyrian, engaged in the fiercest duel Adam had ever seen against a wiry but ferocious Huntsman; and there was a blond Huntsman, short but solid, slamming the last of Adam's Fang allies against a wall in a burst of flame. Rover's Aura puffed away from him; he didn't catch himself as he slumped to the street.
This was impossible.
Disbelief held Adam firm in its grip. This was supposed to be safe, he was supposed to still have the hard core of the Fang, he was still...
What was...
"You," said the blond, spotting Adam and settling into a combat stance. His voice was full of fire. "You tried to have my little girl killed."
The blond stomped; pavement shattered beneath his foot.
"You won't get that chance again," the Huntsman vowed.
Hatred finally pierced the haze in Adam's head. With a snarl, he readied Wilt in his iaijutsu stance. "If you stand against the Faunus, I'll erase you."
"Stupid kid," said the Huntsman, and he burst into motion.
Oh, bother.
Watts rolled his eyes at his screens as his babysitting mission took an unfortunate turn. All the Fang but one knocked out, and Tyrian and the survivor locked in combat against Huntsmen that Watts recognized... and, as much of a non-combatant as Watts preferred to be, if he recognized these enemies, they were some of the best on the planet.
What kind of atrocious luck had resulted in those Huntsmen being in perfect intercept position? The one location Watts had verified clear of Atlas troops and instructed Tyrian to use to escape?
No, Watts suspected, maybe luck had nothing to do with this. Had the Fang been led into this?
As flame wreathed two of the fighters (one ally, one enemy), Watts realized he'd have to intervene. He loathed taking overt action, every time he did potentially alerted his enemies to his existence and reach, but events had left him no choice.
He scanned across his screens for options and picked one.
At least this one would be fun, he thought with a smile. And satisfyingly ironic.
Ruby fumed.
Here she was, acting as "observer" and "standby reserves" for an op she should be leading! She'd missed the capture of the Fang three times, she had to redeem herself, she had to finish this!
If she didn't, if she couldn't... what good was she?
She'd lost the General's confidence. It was the only explanation. She'd blown it too many times, and now he didn't believe in her anymore. She wasn't the Great Hope of Atlas. She was the Great Big Nobody of Atlas, the Just-Another-Soldier of Atlas, the Participation Trophy Winner of Atlas.
She'd screwed it all up, she'd wasted it all. Project Lamplight, years of training, years of prep, vast amounts of money and personnel and gear, all so she could sit up here and watch.
She hated this. She hated herself more.
How could she let Penny see her like this?
She watched as Atlesian troops clambered out of the building that had been partially collapsed by the Fang, insisting to herself that she would have been the difference, hearing whispers in her head that said she wouldn't have.
Sure, that Tyrian guy was scary, and sure, she'd locked up while fighting him, but that didn't mean...
What was that?
Her eyes tracked over to the interactive map. One of the Mantas was leaving its assigned area.
She grabbed a handset, dialed to the mission channel. "Manta Two-Three, where are you going?"
No answer.
"Manta Two-Three, report."
No answer, but the Manta was simultaneously gaining speed and losing altitude.
"Manta Two-Three, pull up!"
"Thank you, thank you!" said Tyrian as he swayed around another slash of a greatsword, then darted back in to take advantage of the weapon's clumsiness... only for his attack to be preempted with a kick. He answered with a shin-kick of his own and a burst of gunfire his dance partner gamely deflected.
"For what?" was the enraged reply.
"For reminding me what a true Huntsman fights like... Qrow Branwen!" said Tyrian with glee. He twirled, one arm-blade slice following the next like a homicidal blender, and just as Qrow adjusted to this onslaught, Tyrian dropped low using his tail for support and unleashed a hurricane of low kicks, forcing Qrow to disengage completely.
Well... not that completely. Shotgun shells ripped into the street where Tyrian had just been.
"You're the Right Eye of the Wizard," Tyrian said as he faced off with Qrow again. "You deserve your reputation."
Qrow's eyes narrowed as he readied his weapon. "Does this mean you're on her side?"
Oh, Tyrian appreciated that the infidel knew better than to profane Salem's glorious name. "Yes, yes! What more glorious calling could there be?"
Qrow's face twisted in obvious fury. He flexed his hand, and the greatsword reformed into a scythe: its true form, Tyrian knew. How gratifying that Qrow would be facing him with his full-
There was a whisper in Tyrian's ear. He changed tacks.
"I've spread Her word far and wide," he said as he leaned forward and put on his most aggravating face. "Like when I spirited away your little niece to offer to my Goddess."
The face Qrow made when he processed this was delicious. He let out a roar of rage and launched himself forward... just as Tyrian hoped he would.
Tyrian was ready. One foot smashed through the street beneath a manhole cover, then kicked the cover into the air; a palm strike launched the cover at Qrow like a projectile.
Counting on his improvised attack to fractionally stall his foe, Tyrian sprang laterally to where Adam was losing ground to a blond Huntsman wreathed in flames. Tyrian let out a burst of gunfire, distracting the Huntsman for a moment. For just long enough.
Tyrian grabbed hold of Adam and leapt backwards.
Just in time to not be flattened by a crashing Manta.
"Now we run," said Tyrian, giving Adam the briefest of glances. "You can still run, can't you?"
"Y-yes," said Adam blearily.
"Perfect," said Tyrian. "Then we're still winning."
"Get offa me!" roared Qrow.
"You're welcome," said Taiyang, moving off of Qrow's body; he'd had to tackle his old teammate to get him away from the crashing Manta.
"I could've taken the hit," said Qrow.
"Don't be dumb," said Taiyang, "then you'd be pinned beneath this mess, doing no one any good."
"You don't-that's-" Qrow's composure had failed him completely; words were tripping over each other to come out of his mouth.
"Qrow, it's-"
"That's who took Ruby!"
The words were a spike to the brain. Taiyang's vision filled with black, then with ghosts, then with...
The back of his head struck the pavement, dispelling his flashback... at least for a moment. "Qrow!" he shouted.
"I've gotta find 'em!" said Qrow, and he leapt into the air and was gone.
Taiyang sighed. Branwens. They'd do what they'd do, no matter what Taiyang said. Groaning in pain-his body could still go as hard as it used to, it'd just punish him for forcing it-he hauled himself to standing.
And realized something macabre.
The crashing Manta hadn't just covered the escape of Adam and his companion. It had crushed the defeated Fang members, all of whom had lost their Auras.
Taiyang's stomach turned. Even if they were terrorists, he'd still intended to arrest them, not kill them outright. Well, maybe he still could arrest someone-maybe the crash had missed one or two of them...
His eyes tracked to the spreading flames inside the Manta. His eyes widened. He dove for cover.
Right as the fire reached the Manta's Dust stores.
"...I'm telling you, we're gonna do great!" said Yang as Team BXPS walked towards the cafeteria for breakfast. "The Vytal Tournament'll never know what hit it!"
"Let's not have undue confidence," said Weiss.
"Nah, this is a totally due sort of confidence. My dad told me about how Team STRQ won Vytal during their time in school, and if they could win it, I'm sure we can!"
Analysis protested the flawed logic in Yang's words, but higher consciousness didn't want to dampen the mood.
"Well," said Weiss, "which year were they in when they won?"
"Second," said Penny. "I studied the history of the tournament as part of my preparations." Which had begged the question: why didn't they win in their fourth year? Apparently they hadn't even competed, which did not compute.
"That's something to think about," said Weiss. "They had one more year under their belts than we did."
"C'mon," said Yang, "don't you wanna win?"
"Of course I want to," said Weiss, "I just don't want to make a tyrant of unreasonable expectations."
"That's fair," said Yang, bending easily.
There was a ping from Blake's scroll. She looked at the message she'd gotten-and pink rose in her cheeks while her temperature increased.
"What's that about?" said Yang eagerly.
"Nothing," said Blake, though Penny found that far from convincing. The speed with which Blake replaced her scroll was a clue, too.
"So, from Sun, then?" said Weiss.
The pink in Blake's cheeks intensified. "He just sends me random words of encouragement, sometimes."
"Which makes the romantic in you swoon!" said Yang, draping a hand over her face and pitching to the side.
"Oh, shut up and suck on Weiss' face some more," said Blake.
"Hey!"
"That reminds me," said Penny. "Do toothbrushes have transitive properties?"
That drew stares. Oh, the comfort of routine abnormality. What a paradox.
"Why would you ask that?" said Weiss.
"Yang has used your toothbrush one day in four since our first week of classes," said Penny. "If toothbrushes are transitive, and her toothbrush has been in your mouth and also her mouth, that would mean..." Thesaurus dredged up a meat person idiom, "...you've been 'making out' for over three months now."
So much blood rushed to Yang and Weiss' faces Penny wondered what parts of them were blood-starved. Blake, on the other hand, just laughed and laughed and laughed.
"No, Penny," said Weiss, closing her eyes and breathing carefully. "Toothbrushes are not transitive."
"Oh."
Blake was still smiling when they entered the cafeteria. "Oh, hey!" said a Faunus sophomore Penny knew to be Velvet.
"Morning," said Blake.
Velvet approached with a smile. "I just wanted to say, I thought your interview was amazing."
"Th-thanks," said Blake, looking down. "I... wish I'd gotten more of a positive response."
Weiss rolled her eyes. "There you go again. Didn't we tell you positive responses outnumbered negative ones four to one? And that even that ratio likely undersells reality, because the most negative people are the most likely to take the time to respond?"
"Leave it to Weiss to tell you when you're being dumb," said Yang with what Penny was 73% sure was affection.
"One cussing out is worth ten kudos," said Blake. "It's just how our brains are wired."
"Understood," said Penny. "I will adjust my ratios of compliments to critiques accordingly."
"Is she always like this?" Velvet whispered.
"Always," said Blake with a smile. "That's our Penny."
"Lucky."
"Wait," said Fox, coming up alongside his teammate Velvet, "you mean to tell me Blake's a Faunus?"
"Always have been," said Blake.
"Impossible!" said Fox. "I've never seen her Faunus feature!"
Several people groaned, but Penny cocked her head. "Of course you haven't seen it," she said reasonably. "You're blind."
Fox sighed. "Yes. That would be the joke. Nice job murdering it."
Behind Fox, another student walked—a Beacon upperclassman who'd concealed his Faunus nature from everyone except Penny. Until today, that is, because the scarf that normally concealed his neck was absent, revealing gills to the world.
That meant something. Something good, Penny hoped.
"Seriously, can we get food?" said Weiss.
"Yeah," said Yang, "fun as this is, we don't want our princess getting hangry."
Blake's mouth was open, but her scroll pinged before she could speak. Penny was starting to strongly associate alerts on Blake's scroll with bad news, and this instance did nothing to dissuade her. "Hey, Penny, could you grab some food for me?" Blake said, scrolling her thumb across the device. "I need to check this..."
"Certainly," said Penny. Memories of her teammates' eating habits were low-priority and were kept in bulk storage, but they still existed, and Retrieval pulled up records of Blake's prior breakfasts to serve as a guide.
By the time she returned to the BXPS-JNPR-SSSN table (still missing SSSN, alas), Blake was hunched over even further, fingers dancing across the screen of her scroll.
"That's not good," said Weiss.
"So, what happened?" said Yang.
Blake shook her head. "The Atlas fleet did an armed pursuit of what's left of the Vale Branch last night. They chased them through the city and made a real mess of it. Three buildings destroyed, a bunch more damaged."
"That's an oof," said Yang as the teammates surrounded their leader.
"And... yeah, there it is," said Blake with a cringe. "'Residents are noting the contradiction between Blake Belladonna's widely broadcasted plea for understanding and progress, and the Atlas military's reckless disregard for collateral damage'."
Yang winced. "No one likes being made to look to dumb."
"I don't care about looking dumb," said Blake. "I care about the message getting lost, about us getting right back to recrimination and blame-gaming."
Penny reviewed her own scroll. "The Atlas military did release a statement," she said. "They say that much of the damage came from a mechanical failure in a Manta that caused it to crash, not from weapons fire."
"That just changes the question to, 'so why was the Manta there'," said Blake. "Besides, the Atlas military has zero credibility amongst the Faunus."
Vocal lined up a riposte—but higher consciousness, getting an alert that the source was Trash, shut it down. Progress, after a fashion.
"And they didn't even catch Adam," said Blake. "If they had they would have told everyone. He escaped again."
Penny refocused. "I know this is important and matters to us, but would you please eat your breakfast? Brain function suffers when you are undernourished."
Blake didn't look up from her scroll, but she did frown.
"Blake," said Yang seriously, and forced the tray in front of Blake, displacing her forearms.
"Fine," said Blake, and she started to eat—one-handedly, distractedly, and her toast glanced off her cheek the first few times she tried to get it to her mouth, but she did eat.
This, too, was progress.
Was all progress this slow? Or was Penny's perspective on speed distorted by her youth?
Hopefully, Penny could figure that out.
"More," commanded Salem.
Hazel obligingly pulled up more reports and projected them against the wall. He wasn't as organized in doing this as Watts was; Watts had learned Salem's tendencies, her interests and preferences, over his time as Salem's insight into the world of technology.
Salem couldn't be bothered to learn about this kind of tech, not when it changed so quickly and especially not when her successes tended to reverse technological growth. Having her underlings act as her interface was clumsy, but it sufficed.
Calling this device a 'scroll' was highly suggestive of the type of technology Salem was used to, and had made long use of... which meant she read very, very quickly.
She smiled and clucked. "I see. I will compose new instructions for Arthur and Tyrian. You will transmit them."
"Yes, your grace," said Hazel without inflection. Hazel was as articulate as a millstone and half as charismatic, but he was useful nonetheless.
In this instance, Salem didn't need charisma. All she needed was the lack of charisma, or of any meaningful bond of affection, between the Atlas military and... well, everyone else on Remnant.
One inopportunely crashed airship could spread doubts and fears?
They hadn't seen anything yet.
The Manta banked towards the operations zone. "Thirty seconds," came the voice of the pilot.
"Roger," said Ruby as she adjusted her combat gear. She was grateful to have a chance to do something other than sit and wait and watch as others ran (and failed) missions that should have been hers.
The Air Fleet was running additional survey flights to monitor the ever-growing concentration of Grimm outside the barrier mountains. Ruby had requested to join one of those missions and turn part of it into a search and destroy. The General had denied the type change, but had agreed to allow her on the mission.
And if they just so happened to attract grimm attention during the survey, the Manta had a high-caliber door gun and Ruby had her eyes. It was just a question of which she'd rather use at a given moment.
"Entering the survey zone," said the pilot. "Trackers are running and we're coming down in altitude to get a good look."
From inside the bay, Ruby looked at the sensor repeater installed there. What she saw was astonishing. Grimm were very nearly carpeting this area of the forest. There were so many the sensor almost didn't know what to do with them all.
"Is it like this in the other sectors?" said Ruby.
"Some of them," said the pilot. "Mostly the sectors with the closest straight-line approaches to the city. Ground traffic through the mountains has been disallowed until things come under control."
"I bet," said Ruby - but her eyes were drawn to new dots on the sensor. Dots of different size, shape, and color compared to the others. "I think we have incoming."
"Confirmed," said the co-pilot. "Three marks at 140, closing fast."
"Alright, this data is good enough for now, this isn't a combat mission," said the pilot, and the Manta pitched steeply up as he pulled for safety and altitude. Nevermore, Ruby knew, were vastly more dangerous above you than below.
Which was why the fourth new dot was so alarming. "New airborne contact bearing 240," she said. "Closing on us from higher altitude!"
"On an intercept course," said the co-pilot, "almost like they knew where we were going to run!"
"Come off it, even older grimm aren't that tactical," said the pilot, but he nevertheless took a hard change of course. The bay door opened up. "I'm going to draw it down the starboard side, Garnet. He's all yours."
"Gotcha," said Ruby as she nestled in behind the big gun. Come to think of it, this would be the perfect opportunity to test her eyes again, make sure that she could still fire them on command.
It was easy. She just had to do what she'd done before.
It had been so easy before.
(So different from now.)
She'd been so good at it, it had come so naturally.
(When now it didn't.)
She didn't have to worry about whether or not it would work, she knew it would.
(When now she doubted.)
It had been simpler then, with more confidence and less conflict, she missed those times, she…
Shriek.
Wham.
The Manta shook and Ruby was jarred in place, her eyes shooting open.
"Where's that covering fire?!" the pilot screamed, but Ruby's heuristics were already kicking in. She aimed the door gun without thought and poured fire at the Nevermore. She kept on the torrent, pouring bullets at it by the bucketful. The Manta banked slightly to keep it in her field of view; it was falling behind trying to keep up under the hail of Dust-propelled metal.
It didn't matter how shaky the ride was nor how much the minigun tried to walk, Ruby's aim was impeccable, and concentrated on the shoulder joint where wing met torso. After several seconds of increasing amounts of vaporous blasts from that joint, the wing tore free from the body and began to turn to ash midair, while the body of the Nevermore disappeared into the abyss below with a hateful shriek.
"Returning to base course," said the pilot, "keep an eye behind us, those other three closed the range while we were fighting the one."
"Roger," Ruby got out through her shame. She mindlessly readied the weapon, double checked its ammo feed and its mounting to ensure it was secure, and it was a good thing those habits were ingrained so deeply that she didn't need to think about them, because her brain wasn't working well right then.
It was getting worse.
She was getting worse.
No wonder the General wanted Penny instead of her.
Her heart twitched.
She needed to talk to Penny. Forget her orders, forget that the General had confiscated her burner, forget that with the Fleet on alert he'd detect unauthorized calls and do something about it, at the very least getting her in even more trouble. She had to talk to Penny.
She needed to understand like she needed air. The General had gone to all those lengths to get Penny... where was Penny now?
No… no. Did Penny not want to be with her either?
As her thoughts spiraled into deeper and darker places, Ruby's silver eyes seemed to become clouded.
"Do you have any threes?"
"Go fish," said Penny. "Sun, do you have any twos?"
"Oh, come on!" said Sun, throwing a few cards from his hand at her. "How are you so good at this?"
Yang glanced at Penny with a smirk that seemed to cover her whole face. "Natural talent," said Yang. "Just be glad we're not playing for money."
"Pfft, like I'd even be playing if that was the deal," said Sun.
"Be glad we're not playing for clothes, then."
"Don't encourage him," Neptune said, cutting across Sun's reply. "And don't give him an excuse, either."
"Like the people in this room would mind," Yang said as her gaze fell on Blake, who pointedly kept on looking at her book, though her ears twitched.
"I have enough buff blondes in my life," said Weiss breezily, and though Penny assessed those words as "probable compliment", Yang's composure seemed to fail her. Those two were endlessly confusing.
"In any event," said Penny, "Neptune, do you have any aces?"
"Okay, I give up," said Neptune, dropping his cards to the table. "We're getting our butts kicked harder after our mission than they were getting kicked during our mission."
"And they'll probably get kicked harder in the next couple days, once the tournament starts," said Yang, gathering the cards together as the other players handed them in.
"Yeah, but at least that'll be fun," said Sun, "and at least we'll have a chance."
"You say that," said Nora, "but if we're up against you, know that we'll show no mercy!"
"Hmm," said Pyrrha vaguely. Most of her attention was going to running her hands through Jaune's hair; he'd fallen asleep with his head in Pyrrha's lap, but Penny had never seen Pyrrha look happier.
"Here," said Ren as he moved about the group, a tray in his hand.
"Oh, so this is what you were doing instead of playing with us," said Sun, picking a mochi ball off the tray and nibbling. His eyes shot open. "Holy… okay, feel free to make as many of these as you want."
"I can't, actually," said Ren. "We're out of syrup."
Most of the group's eyes swiveled to Nora. "I don't know what you're talking about," said Nora, but her innocence was betrayed by an unsubtle burp.
"I'm sure," said Ren. His smile was mild, but it stayed as he went around the group. He didn't offer one to Penny, which she appreciated, but it drew Sun's eyes.
"Don't you want one?" said Sun.
"They are incompatible with my health," Penny replied, something so true Jiminy was silent.
"Huh," said Neptune. He reached for his pocket and placed below his nose... something that looked like a fuzzy caterpillar. "My Junior Detective senses are tingling."
"Really?" said Penny. "I have done detective work in the past and found it fascinating, but your different perspective is new! What are your senses tingling about? Ooh, ooh, is this a 'hunch'?"
"Yeah," said Neptune with a nod, "there's definitely something up with you."
Penny froze. She was growing more comfortable with more people knowing her nature—every person who didn't immediately turn on her, think less of her, or denigrate her added to her body of reassurance—but she still wanted it to be on her terms, not...
"You mean there's something up with your face!" said Nora.
"Boom!" said Scarlet. "Got 'em!"
"Totally roasted," said Yang, offering Nora a fist bump which she accepted with gusto.
Neptune put the... face fur (?) away with an expression Tactical and Thesaurus collaborated to call "sheepish", not matter how not-like-a-sheep Neptune looked. "Okay, yeah, I get it, coming on way too strong."
"At least you backed off," said Weiss.
"What game should we play next?" said Penny, eager to change the subject.
"Poker," said Yang.
"No money, remember?" said Sun.
"Strip poker," Yang said; Weiss made a sort of gargling noise behind her.
Sun seemed to consider that, but Neptune shook his head and gestured at Penny. "With the card shark over there? No way."
"I am actually somewhat bad at poker," said Penny.
Neptune briefly brightened.
"Or Yang is much better than I am," Penny said. Those two things would look the same to her, given she'd only ever played against Yang.
"Oh," said Neptune. "Never mind, then."
"How about the movie game?" said Scarlet.
"Jaune is the best of us at the movie game," said Pyrrha, looking down at her lap fondly. "And he's... indisposed."
Jaune gave an exceptionally well-timed snore.
"I've got it!" said Nora, bouncing in her seat. "Let's play truth-or-dare!"
"C'mon," said Sage, "how cliché can you get?"
"I don't hear you making any suggestions," said Nora. "No, like literally, I've never heard you make a single suggestion."
"Of course he has!" said Sun, rallying to his teammate's defense.
"Name one," said Neptune.
Sun started to speak, frowned, and descended into a silent crisis.
"Video game tournament?" said Yang.
"Too barbaric," said Weiss.
"You mean you hate that you suck at them, princess," said Yang with a smirk.
Weiss affected dignity and started carding her hands through Yang's hair. "I can have more than one reason."
Penny blinked to verify what she was seeing even as Analysis threw forward alerts. "Yang, she's touching your hair!" she said in quiet alarm.
"Uh... yeah," said Yang, and Yang, of all people, seemed bashful.
"You have reacted violently to any and all previous attempts to touch your hair," said Penny. "When a grimm grazed your hair during a field exercise, your response was the swiftest and most complete grimm annihilation I have on record."
"Uh huh," said Yang. Her shoulders were hunching like she was trying to hide her face, but she didn't move her head away. Weiss, for her part, looked immensely pleased with herself.
"I'm just happy we're all doing this together," said Penny. "The only way it could be better is if Garnet was here."
Yang gave Penny a sharp look, but Penny held firm: BXPS might know the girl beneath the nom de guerre, but JNPR and SSSN didn't.
"Someday, maybe," said Ren.
"I can hope," said Penny.
"Can't you call her?" said Sun.
"I have attempted it over the past week and been unsuccessful," said Penny. "I have to believe her burner's been confiscated."
"Someone's keeping her locked up tight, eh?" said Scarlet. "Like the Girl in the Tower."
"That would make you the Wizard," said Nora with enthusiasm, "which I've gotta say is a role you could totally pull off. Go bust down some doors and get your girl!"
Penny felt sadness even as Emotion Signifying dialed up a smile, a combination which sent higher consciousness reeling. "If only it were that simple."
"They say absence makes the heart grow fonder," said Neptune.
"Counterpoint," said Weiss, "loneliness is the worst."
"What are we, chopped liver?" said Nora.
"I submit that it's a different kind of loneliness," said Penny. "Can you imagine if you were with Jaune and Pyrrha, but not with Ren?"
Nora's face scrunched up as she concentrated. "I legitimately can't imagine that."
"That's my dilemma," said Penny.
"Didn't you come up with ways to... uh... 'infiltrate' where Garnet's at?" said Yang. "You shared a couple with me."
"I would use those only as a last resort," said Penny. "Seeing as they would likely cause an international incident."
"Here's the plan, then," said Yang. "She's going much further away after the Festival, right?"
"Probably," said Penny with rising alarm.
"So, try to see her all through the Festival, and if you haven't seen her by the end, do one of those plans the day before everyone breaks up."
"Maybe," said Penny. "What do you think, Blake?"
"I'm paying no attention to this," said Blake, eyes fixed firmly on her book (even though her ears had swiveled towards each speaker in turn). "I'm maintaining plausible deniability."
"The two most comforting words in this language," said Ren. "They're like a warm blanket."
"I fear I have hijacked the conversation and the mood," said Penny. "Much as I wish I could have Garnet here, I do not wish that to come at the expense of enjoying the people who are here."
"So, back to the original question," said Weiss; her nails scraped against Yang's scalp in a way that made Yang let out a contented hum. "What's next?"
"We could just watch a movie," said Sun.
There was general assent to this. Sun plopped down on the couch next to Blake; Blake's face never moved, but Penny detected the now-familiar rises of Blake's vital signs that accompanied Sun's presence.
Penny, as usual, left the couches and chairs to her comfort-seeking friends, and took her customary place with her back to the wall. As the conversation shifted to friendly bickering about what movie to watch, she reflected on Ruby.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder. An interesting thought. If true, it would help explain how Ruby had such a powerful hold on Penny's feelings and imagination despite their extremely infrequent interactions.
On the other hand, Penny interacted even less with other people, and she had nowhere near the same affection for those others.
For that matter, the logical inverse of the idea would be that Ruby's presence would make Penny like her less. Penny found that dubious in the extreme.
Penny wanted more Ruby in her life.
But... she'd sabotaged that, hadn't she?
She could have had more Ruby in her life. She could have accepted Ironwood's offer to bring her back into the Atlesian military. She could have seen Ruby more.
Did that mean she prized other things more than Ruby?
It was a troublesome thought, one that had plagued Penny ever since she'd taken her stand. Analysis had been chewing on it in the background from then on, taking up to a quarter of Penny's resources. Penny queried for its conclusions.
Analysis offered this: Penny surrendering her autonomy to see Ruby didn't guarantee she'd see Ruby the way she wanted. If Ironwood controlled her to the extent he desired, he'd also control the terms of Penny's relationship with Ruby. Assuming her father had understood Ironwood's motives correctly (and she was inclined to believe that), the relationship Ironwood desired for Penny and Ruby was not the one they desired for themselves.
If Penny let Ironwood rule her relationship with Ruby, that relationship would be professional at best and adversarial at worst.
That was decidedly not what Penny desired.
She wanted to give Ruby time and attention and new experiences and tours and joint activities and learning and affection and togetherness. She also wanted to give Ruby something like this: comfortable, low-stakes companionship. Penny had determined that Ruby hadn't had much of that in her life; Penny wanted that for her.
Negotiations for what movie to watch had broken down, Tactical reported. Sun and Pyrrha were instead having a boisterous conversation about who was likely to win the Vytal Tournament. Blake had nestled comfortably into Sun's side; his gesticulation did not disturb her. Weiss had procured a brush from somewhere and was occupying herself with the great bounty that was Yang's mane; Yang was trying to be part of the conversation but kept losing the thread. Nora was actively passing out; Ren had positioned himself to catch her when she did. From Pyrrha's lap, Jaune murmured, "Guys, be careful with my tiara."
Yes, Penny decided. Ruby deserved all of this and more.
No later than the end of the Festival, Penny would try to give it to her.
Adam had nothing.
Nothing.
He'd lost his followers in the Vale Branch. He'd lost his place in the Fang. He'd lost the respect and aid of his fellow Faunus.
No one offered him succor or shelter. No one offered him help or encouragement. He was alone with a psychopath who didn't care about him at all, for reasons Adam didn't (couldn't) bring himself to fret about.
He'd lost everything of value to him.
No... no. Hadn't 'lost'.
It had all been taken from him.
By Blake.
Nothing else mattered anymore. Out of all the hurts inflicted on him, her betrayal was the worst. If he did one thing more in this life, it would be to repay his pain on her.
…then what the hell was he waiting for?
He rose from where he'd been seated against the wall of a closed-down garage. He seated Wilt firmly on his hip and stepped off.
He was intercepted immediately.
"And where do you think you're going, hm?" said the madman.
"I'm going to punish Blake Belladonna," Adam said.
"Are you?"
"Yes. I'm going to go up to Beacon Academy, hunt her down, and pay her back for her betrayal."
"How aesthetic of you!" said Tyrian. "But you don't even know where your little princess is, do you?"
"She's at Beacon," Adam repeated.
"Which is an awfully big place," crooned Tyrian. "Not the easiest place to find someone."
"I'll slaughter anyone who gets between me and her," said Adam.
"A commendable goal!" said Tyrian. "But not as worthy as the one you could be pursuing."
"I am so sick of-"
"Don't you want her to fail first?" said Tyrian, popping in front of Adam. "Don't you want her unworthy desires to crumble to dust before her eyes? Don't you want to drink in her despair before you end her?"
"You're sick," said Adam with disgust.
"I'm honest," said Tyrian. "Don't lie to yourself, little calf. You want to inflict pain on Blake, not just death."
Adam stared at Tyrian.
"Just a little longer," said Tyrian, holding up his scroll. "One more day, and Blake will know endless torment."
Adam's unmasked face twitched. His scar felt like it was on fire.
"And it will be one more day," Tyrian called back to the Bullhead behind them, "right, doctor?"
Watts rolled his eyes, but even as he did he closed up the panel containing the Bullhead's Identify Friend-or-Foe transponder. "I just finished our last bit of prep, so yes, we'll stick to the revised plan. One more day."
"Excellent, excellent!" said Tyrian, rolling onto his back so he could clap with his feet. "In that case, we're ready to kick off this year's Vytal Tournament with a bang!"
Adam drew Wilt and held the blade before him, looking at his reflection in its surface. There was nothing behind the mask that covered his face. When he spoke, his voice sounded more like Tyrian's than ever.
"And we'll end it with a bigger one."
OMAKE
Penny: Yang, I have noticed that you and Weiss are more affectionate now, but you still call each other names and insult each other. Is that not a contradiction?
Yang: Not really. We know we like each other, so there's no hard feelings. It's all in good fun.
Penny: Oh? Perhaps I should try that! ...you brain-dead lummox.
Yang:
Yang: ...Penny.
Next time: Single Elimination