I have my planned dates for the Christmas period finalised now, so there'll be no updates for them. My last update of the year will be Thursday 19th, and I shall return Saturday 4th January. I will be sure to mark dates accurately on the bottom of the last chapters.

That means no chapter of this next week - next starts in Jan 4th.

Cover Art: Aristeo Storm

Chapter 60

"So, I've been reading this new book."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"…"

Gretchen ran her palm down her face. "That was an invitation for you to ask what it's about."

"Oh." Qrow looked embarrassed, as well he should. "What's it about?"

"It's about a world of animals that live like people, who all live in an abbey and have to face off against legions of evil rats."

"Sounds… uh… interesting."

"It's a children's book. It's fairly fun. Simple, but fun."

"Is that why you read it, because you never had anyone to read it to you since you were an orphan?"

A nearby waitress winced. When Gretchen and Qrow first arrived, the waitresses had thought them dating; they had giggled and winked at her. It hadn't taken them long to realise that wasn't the case – and that her "date" was a socially inept moron.

"He needs more work," said one waitress, bringing them their fresh round of drinks. "That was painful to listen to."

"You're not meant to listen in," Qrow grumbled.

"You're entertainment to us." The blonde waitress winked at them and moved on. They were in a quiet little diner in Mountain Glenn, far away from Vale where people from Beacon might see them and get the wrong idea. Qrow had assured her he'd told Willow and Summer that this wasn't anything romantic, but if he was this bad at reading signals then who knew what they'd really gotten from it.

Gretchen didn't need the drama.

"You don't have to be interested in what the person is talking about, but you can at least fake it. Or if you can't fake it, ask more questions – that's usually safe. You could have asked about the characters or the author."

"Right…"

Qrow was pushing his own fingers into his forehead, visibly frustrated. He hadn't meant the orphan line badly, being one himself, and she hadn't taken it too seriously either. It was just the way he was – painfully blunt.

Oddly, he didn't have any problems talking with older people and seemed to get on with them rather well. He often chatted with the teachers, and she'd seen him getting along with Mr Ozpin in particular. He wasn't entirely inept when it came to social interactions.

He just couldn't connect with people his own age – much like he'd said.

"I'm not sure how to put into words what you should do," Gretchen admitted. "There's no special secret or technique. You just talk to people. Practice might be your best bet. Ask me a few questions."

"About yourself?"

"Sure. And I'll ask in turn. Let's keep a conversation going."

"Okay. Uh. What school did you go to…?"

They batted questions and answers back at one another for a few minutes. Qrow did better when he could ask questions, masking his lack of social skills by making her talk more. He did his best to feign interest as well, and he almost sounded a little interested when she started talking about the way lessons had been structured.

In turn, she poked around to try and find a topic he might actually enjoy talking about, if only to see if he wouldn't do better when he was relaxed. Signal was a bust, Summer and Taiyang were a known factor, and he didn't act proud of his weapon forging skills – he acted like they were par for the course.

Curiously, it was talking about the fight with the rogue huntress that got him talking.

"It was touch and go," he said, leaning forward and showing some rare animation. His hands moved as he talked, outlying the scene. "The first thing I noticed – after how outclassed I was – was how odd her style was. Normally, there's a balance between offence and defence but she was all offence. Didn't even try and defend her vitals—"

Gretchen had heard it before, the cliff-notes that was, but Qrow went into detail laying out what had been wrong and how he'd adapted to it. She'd have thought him boasting, but he didn't have much ego to him – even now. It took her a moment to realise what he was really doing.

He's lecturing. Not sarcastically, either. It's like he's giving a lecture – teaching a lesson.

And he was getting into it. Gretchen poked further, even if she didn't need to know the answers, just to see how he would react. "How do you tell what a person's Semblance does?"

"Assuming it's not obvious like fireballs and lightning, your best bet is to look at what they're not doing. Semblances come in two forms – active and passive. You have to figure out which it is. Active is flashy and often destructive, but passive is usually more dangerous; that's mostly because you don't see it coming."

He laid out ways to tell, probing moves you could make, and even examples that he must have read about. Gretchen recognised some of them from coursework, but she was surprised to hear many she didn't. Where had he learned them? Qrow didn't strike her as the type to study in a library, but she'd admit to not knowing him that well.

She'd known guys who liked showing off their intellect in the past, and plenty of guys who enjoyed a good mansplaining, but this was different. It felt less insulting, and Qrow's enthusiasm for it was almost infectious. It was a sharing of knowledge more than it was a browbeating. Even the waitresses were interested, subtly leaning in to listen.

He can command a room well. Then why can't he lead a conversation? Sheesh.

"—and that's why it's important to look at what they're not doing, because even those who are trying to hide their Semblances are subtly influenced by them. They leave openings because they know their Semblances will cover them. I saw her leaving a million openings. That's what clued me in."

"Interesting." It was interesting, even if she'd known most of it. "Out of curiosity, do you know anything about how to unlock a Semblance? A lot of teachers just say to let it come naturally."

"Ah, there's a reason for that." He smiled and dove into the theory of Semblances – and this time she was listening in. Every teacher she ever knew just said not to rush it, but they never really explained why. "It has to do with natural expression of aura, and theories and research into forcing Semblances – almost all of which ended in disaster. Sometimes for the subject, sometimes for those around them!"

Another lesson, another topic she'd never heard of, but explained in detail. Gretchen interrupted to ask a few questions, and he let her, explaining the things she wanted to know like a good teacher would.

A teacher. That's it. Qrow should definitely become a teacher later in life.

"The best way to unlock your Semblance is to get into harder and more dangerous fights," he finished. "But not to recklessly risk your life. Semblances tend to come out in moments of stress but they're not always geared to fixing them – so you don't want to throw yourself off a cliff assuming you'll get a flight Semblance."

"Yeah, no. You know a lot about this. How come?"

He froze. Gretchen wasn't sure why he looked so caught – none of this sounded made up, and the worst he had to admit was studying. Hardly a terrible crime. "I… uh. I had to do some research," he said, lamely.

"Research? Why would…? Wait, did you unlock your Semblance?"

"Yeah." His answer was hesitant. That wasn't the reason he'd been doing said research. Gretchen didn't care, though. She leaned in, too interested to hear what he'd gotten. Semblances were always interesting. "Mine isn't so good, though. No need to get excited."

"There's no such thing as a bad Semblance! Only unimaginative users."

He laughed. "That old lesson? It's like those idiots who say there's no such thing as bad marketing. There absolutely is. My Semblance… It's…" He glanced around, checking to see if the waitresses were listening in. Most of them had tuned out. "It's bad luck."

"Your Semblance is unlucky? Why is that?"

"No. My Semblance is bad luck. Misfortune. It makes me and people around me experience bouts of bad luck. And I can't control it."

"Eh…?"

Semblances were always hot topics back in schools – any school, she imagined – and everyone always imagined their preferred one as a child. Some were flashier than others, but all were exciting in one way or another. This one was not.

"Are you sure that's what it is? That doesn't sound like any Semblance I've heard—"

A crash sounded through the diner, making them both flinch. The waitress who had been serving them stared down at the pool of coffee on the floor. In her finger, the handle of the teakettle remained, having detached from the body.

"JUNIPER!" the irate manager yelled from the back. "CLUMSY GIRL! CLEAN THAT UP!"

"Y—Yes boss!"

The young woman rushed to collect a towel.

Qrow raised an eyebrow at Gretchen.

"That could have been coincidence."

"Could have been," he allowed. "Could have been."

"I'd have seen other instances of your Semblance before now. Unlucky things."

"You mean like two huntresses happening to get into a death battle right next to our camping spot?" Gretchen opened her mouth to argue. "—or how about a fish slipping out your hands at just the right time to send you face-first into an ice-cold river."

Her mouth closed, but she was convinced to think up a retort. Both those things could have been coincidences, but Qrow sounded certain – and he knew his Semblance better than she did. Could they really have been forced upon her? She would have said it was her fault she fell into the river but, looking back, she couldn't help but think it all a little weird.

"You said it was outside your control…"

"It hits me just as often as it hits other people. Sometimes, it's a small thing, almost like a prank. Other times it's a wooden plank giving way under my foot and near breaking my ankle." That example had her wincing, and it sounded even less coincidental. "It's not so bad when it hits in normal life, but it can hit in fights. That's where it gets dangerous. All well and good if it makes an enemy's weapon malfunction. Not so good if it makes mine misfire in a friendly spar and hurt someone."

"Has it ever…?"

"Once or twice. Luckily, no major injuries. I've just let people think it's bad luck."

"Why?"

"It's not something I like people knowing about." He shrugged. "Do you want to hang around the guy who is constant bad luck?"

"I don't mind," she said, easily. "I mean, it's what I've been doing since making it into Beacon."

He looked surprised, his eyes wide, but he recovered and laughed. "I guess it's less risk in Beacon but imagine it out in the field where your life is on the line. An uncontrollable Semblance isn't something you want in someone that's meant to watch your back. Sure, it might harm your enemies the first ten times, but that one time it causes me to stumble, and you take a Beowolf claw to the spine…? Then what?"

I'd die, she thought. Assuming no aura which, realistically speaking, would be the unluckiest moment for his Semblance to strike in. Wow. Yeah, that would be bad. No wonder he doesn't want to tell anyone.

"Does it work in casinos?"

"Ha!" Qrow laughed. "No, it doesn't."

"You've tried it!?" She almost wanted to ask when. "And why not? It'd be bad luck if the house lost, wouldn't it?"

"Casinos aren't as luck-based as a lot of people assume. Even the games that should be, like cards, often have people memorising the statistics and counting cards. Meanwhile, the slots are rigged. About roulette is the only thing of any good and it's a toss-up who my Semblance hits. Could be me, could be the house, could be some poor schmuck there throwing his daughter's school fees on the table."

"You've tried it, then?"

"Been once and never again. I couldn't say for sure it was my Semblance messing people up but… well…" He shook his head. "It's the doubt, honestly. You see people losing all hope and realising how much they've lost, and all I can think is whether I might have had a hand in that. Probably didn't," he added, "but the point of a casino is to have fun and there isn't much fun when I'm worrying who I've screwed over."

That made a lot of sense. Gretchen was inclined to say it was the fault of someone who gambled their lives away, but if his Semblance really did twist the odds then it went beyond that.

"Will it hurt the team?"

"It might," he said. "You think I should tell the others?"

"Yes. Who else knows? Raven and Summer, I assume."

"No. No one. You're the first."

Really? Gretchen sat a little straighter even though it wasn't a fun secret to be told. It still meant he trusted her with it before anyone else. She hadn't thought them that close, and they probably weren't, but it at least meant they was less distance between them as she sometimes feared.

"Maybe we can tell them you just unlocked it," she said. "That I helped you realise it. Does your aura take a hit when it's used?"

"Yes. Another reason I know this was me."

He nodded to the spilt coffee and showed her his scroll. His aura was a few points below full. It was an almost unnoticeable amount but for the fact that they'd faced no combat on the train over, and she knew he hadn't been using it.

Something had drained his aura in the last few minutes.

"Then we say you unlocked it in training with me. It's only a small lie, and it's not like anyone can call you out on it." Gretchen smirked. "And you know, you've been doing a good job holding a conversation."

Qrow blinked and leaned back. "I have? Huh. Ah, but it's huntsman work again," he complained. "It's like the only thing I can connect on is being a huntsman."

"That's something. We're all trying to become huntsmen and huntresses."

"I know but… the others are such good friends beyond that." He meant Team SWRT when he said others, Gretchen knew. It didn't hurt so much anymore. "They have fun outside of classes and work; it feels like all I can talk about is work."

"But you enjoy it, don't you?"

He shrugged. "It's my life."

"Then there you go. There's nothing wrong with being focused on your dream. Just get them talking about this and you'll be fine. It's not like they won't enjoy it. They all want to do well, and Raven is all fight, fight, fight anyway."

"Hmm. That's what annoys me the most. Raven would start a fight with a toddler if she thought he'd give her a challenge, and yet she gets on with people easier than I do. Did you know it was her who befriended Summer? Even when I tried my hardest?"

She had. Qrow wasn't her only friend, and she spent plenty of time chatting with Summer. Naturally, Qrow came up a lot in those conversations given Summer's one-sided infatuation with him. At first, Gretchen was sure it was a none-too-subtle warning that Summer liked Qrow and wanted her to back off, but once it was clear Gretchen had no romantic interest there, it became much more casual. Summer had even offered her own advice on how to get closer to him as a friend.

Gretchen decided to change the subject. "Hey, do you know anything about dust weave in clothing?"

"Dust weaving? That's a rare bit of knowledge." And yet he knew of it. Of course he did. Gretchen leaned in, silently telling him she wanted to know more. "Well, I know a bit. The history of it goes back to…"

Gretchen listened raptly to the new lecture, not even bothering to wonder where he'd learnt about it. When it came to helping him get along with people his own age in their own conversations, she'd probably failed, but at least she could help her own team get along better. All she had to do was find topics Nessa and Peter were interested in and tease Qrow into providing answers.

They all had their weird little quirks. If Qrow's was acting like an old man trapped in a teenager's body, then that was something she could deal with.

/-/

That didn't help as much as I hoped it would.

Qrow kept the thought to himself not wanting to upset Gretchen; they'd talked a lot and the day out hadn't been unfun. Ultimately, the problem was with him. There was just too much of an age-gap and Gretchen's advice of "just being himself" wasn't going to cut it, because "his self" was forty years old.

But maybe he'd been looking at it the wrong way – people would grow up, time would move on, and rather than racing to reduce his own mental age he should let everyone else catch up.

I have time. This isn't some limited thing where my friends will die if I don't complete set objectives in time. Even if I don't do anything, I know Beacon won't fall for another twenty years at least.

That took the weight off his shoulders. His primary goal had always been to save and protect his team this time around, and that didn't require him to fuck around in Beacon and have fun. Maybe it was okay to knuckle down and mingle less; it'd give him more time to train. Everyone would mature as the months and years went on, and then things would be back to normal.

Qrow smiled as he walked alongside Gretchen and around a corner – but a flash of white uniforms had him pausing. There were three men ahead, uniformed from Atlas. Two of them screamed military, while the third was in a more formal uniform, a suit under a white labcoat. Qrow herded Gretchen back around the corner and listened in.

"—not what the superiors want to see. We were promised more results than this."

"But you can see there's been progress. You can see that we're getting closer—"

"Progress isn't results, Merlot. You know that. And funding isn't infinite. I can see the value in this, but we have to run everything past the council and that's where budgets get involved. You're competing with vital infrastructure and arts investment, and you're not nearly as entertaining to the average man as the latter."

"This is a matter of national security. This will protect Atlas!"

"I know that. But the average person does not. We need something to show for this, something we can trot out and present to the public to justify the spend. What you've shown today is promising, yes, but it's still at an early stage. We can't show this."

Qrow frowned. Why were they discussing this out in the open? This area was close to the facility, but he'd expected them to have their conversations in it. The scientist – Doctor Merlot – looked flustered and sweaty, as if he'd been for a run. He must have not liked what was decided in the facility and chased the two men down to try and plead his case a second time.

"Just a little more time," he begged. "A year, that's all I ask. I'll present to you something truly incredible within the next twelve months – something you can march out on stage in front of the masses."

The two military officers stared at one another, then one turned back. "You have ten months. Budgets will be reassigned in twelve and we'll need proof this is viable before then."

Merlot looked flustered, but he couldn't afford to refuse. "Yes. Ten months, sirs. I'll present to you my masterpiece then. You'll be amazed, I swear it. I just need… a few more specimens."

"That's dangerous." The officer looked around and Qrow jerked his head back. Once the man thought it clear he added, in a quieter voice, "Getting them into Mountain Glenn is no small challenge, Merlot. Even with all the safety checks we take, there's potential for accidents."

"Just a small shipment, sirs. That's all I ask."

"Tch. One week from now, then. Sunday evening. Make sure your facilities are prepped. We'll have the delivery come in labelled as raw materials. Do not fail us on this, Merlot. Elections are soon and the council are not in forgiving moods. General Sol has been tempted to cut you off already."

"Thank you, sirs. Thank you. I'll see it handled. Our safety protocols are second to none. You know that; you've seen them yourselves. There'll be no escapees."

They finished off and the two military soldiers left, then Merlot atter, muttering angrily to himself and under his breath. Gretchen had remained silent, confused at first and then wide-eyed as she listened in.

Once they were well gone, Qrow and her stepped out the building's entranceway they'd ducked into.

"What was that all about?" she asked. "That sounded all kinds of suspicious!"

"Atlas has a research facility here in Mountain Glenn." It was something she could find online with a quick search, so he didn't see the need to play dumb. "It's prosthetics and technology from what I read, but that sounds a little more."

"Tell me about it. Escapees? Something smuggled in? Are they doing human experimentation!?"

"I doubt that." He doubted it but couldn't rule it out. Atlas in his time – under Ironwood – wouldn't do anything like that, but Qrow didn't know much about the Atlas of this time. The whole government was different. "But it could well be animal experimentation, as horrible as that sounds. Maybe they don't want people know they're doing it."

"Crippling animals to test prosthetics on them? Yeah, I can see why they wouldn't want to. That still sounds shady, though."

"It does…"

His friends would want to know about that, and Qrow couldn't quite help his own curiosity. "You know, they mentioned a shipment of raw materials. Those would come by sea to Vale and then catch a train to Mountain Glenn most likely. We could check out the docks in the city…"

"Since when are we detectives?"

"The docks are open for the most part. How hard would it be to slip in and have a look?"

"Isn't that illegal?"

"Only if we're caught." His answer earned him a slug to the gut. "Joking, joking. We wouldn't be committing a crime unless we opened up someone's shipment, though. If we're just walking through the area and happen to see it being taken off a ship and loaded on a train, then where's the crime?"

Gretchen frowned. "I dunno. It still sounds illegal. What if we're caught?"

"Then we're two students on a night out and we got lost. Or we were looking for somewhere quiet to make out."

"If your arm wasn't in a sling, I would break it for that comment." Gretchen smiled as she said it however. "Ugh. I mean, I am curious. And Hazel and I were thinking of living in Mountain Glenn. Not sure I'd feel comfortable living here with unknown stuff like this going on. What if it's just normal stuff, though?"

"Then no harm no foul. Though do you think it is, after hearing all this?"

"No. No way. They make it sound like they're smuggling something into Vale that they shouldn't be. I'm guessing going to the police would be a bad idea…?"

"They'd have to believe us over representatives from a whole kingdom. Plus, Atlas would just not deliver them if they were questioned." She hummed in agreement. "Besides, we're huntsmen so there's no harm. We can visit the docks when the shipment comes, take a look at the containers and then leave."

Gretchen crossed her arms. "You know what it's going to be. Don't you?"

"I don't know," he said, honestly. "But I suspect."

"What do you suspect?"

"Grimm."

"What the hell!" she hissed, flinching and covering her mouth. "In a city? In our city!? No way. There's no way Atlas would be that dumb! They'd be smuggling Grimm into and through Vale. What if something went wrong? It'd be a massacre." She shook her head. "No way. You're wrong – you have to be! That'd… That'd be insane!"

"It would be. That's why I want to check it and make sure I'm wrong – and I hope I am."

"I hope you are, too," she said, visibly alarmed. "Because this would be a serious problem." She bit her lip. "But it'd definitely explain why they were so cagey about it, and why they said it'd be such a risky job." Her eyes slid back the way the officers had gone. "Why, though? What research could they possibly be doing?"

"Grimm research, obviously."

It was a guess based on the fact Mountain Glenn fell to Grimm. He'd checked the walls with Ozpin and those were solid, which meant the only answer was Grimm from the inside. Maybe he was wrong and maybe they got in another way, which he'd discover in the future, but Occam's razor said to go for the answer with the least question marks. This one fit. It also made sense for Atlas to want to research the great enemy, and for them to want to do it outside their own city.

"Might be they're looking to test weapons on Grimm," he said. "Or that they want to show off some new Grimm deterrent. Those officers said they needed something they could show off to the general public, right? It'd be controversial to bring a Grimm out on a stage unless they were 100% sure their new tech would work."

"It would be. They'd be ripped apart. Hell, this is insane. I still hope you're wrong."

"Me too. So, next week…?"

Gretchen bit her lip. "Next week," she confirmed. "But… But maybe we can bring some help…?"

"Afraid of a few Grimm?"

"Your arm is broken and it's not the Grimm I'm afraid of, it's being caught and getting in trouble. A few people to watch our backs would be good. Maybe Willow? She could say she's there to check out dust shipments. Her own dad isn't going to press charges if we're with her."

"Hm. Not a bad idea. They'd probably come on the same vessel from Atlas. You realise that'll mean informing just about everyone on Team SWRT, though. Right?"

"Yeah. I mean, this is a bit bigger than just the two of us. If we're about to spy on Atlas then I'll feel safer with more people."

The spy agency might not be happy he was inviting more people along, but they might appreciate having the excuse of nosey students to hide behind. Either way, it felt like he was getting closer to the secret of why the city fell.

Typical of Atlas to "fuck around" and let someone else "find out". Never thought I'd miss Ironwood and his brand of bullshit so much. He's a saint compared to these guys.

"Sorry about my Semblance."

"What?" Gretchen glanced back. "Why bring that... wait, are you saying this is because of it?"

"We just happened to be in the right place for them to spill sensitive information. You're calling that a coincidence?"

"Yes! But... if it was your Semblance, why help us? Isn't it bad luck?"

"I mean, we've just been thrown into a potential crisis that is pitting two teenagers against the biggest military on Remnant. That sound good to you?"

"..." Gretchen sighed. "I hate your Semblance so much."

"Join the club."

Next Chapter: 4th January

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