Yo! Back for another chapter!
Not a ton to say honestly. Hope you guys like it!
Start Chapter 8
Raven, just as she'd told Yang she would, wakes her up in the dead of night, apparently entirely convinced that leaving to go on their trip to Mistral now is a good idea.
It feels entirely moronic to Yang, who's rather used to moving about when she can actually, y'know, see, but hey, what does she know, right? Hell, maybe if she trips and breaks her ankle in the dark, she can at least tell her mom that she told her so.
Yang half wants to ask Raven is she intends to get them most of the way there via portal, but given that Raven's just about the least social human being to have ever existed, she's pretty sure her mother would rather die than have to awkwardly face Qrow or her dad.
…Or… maybe even Mom.
Or, well, her other Mom. Summer Rose, who she had, and likely always would, considered her real mother. She'd raised her, tucked her into bed as a child, made her feel cared for, and loved, and never once treated her differently despite her having not even been her real daughter.
Yang almost considers herself lucky that Raven had decided to run out on them. She'd gotten to grow up with an actual mother, instead of whatever the hell Raven's whole deal generally is.
That reminds her, she hasn't egged her mother on nearly enough this evening.
"So," She clears her throat, and instantly, a scowl forms on Raven's face. That alone has Yang smirking. "I know all about your semblance – y'know, being your daughter and all –"
Raven grimaces.
"But I can't help notice that you're not really using it right now, despite the fact that that would make our trip a lot easier."
Raven opens her mouth, evidently to actually dignify that response, but then, she shuts her lips.
"The only person I actually have a connection with in Mistral right now is someone I'd really rather avoid getting into an argument with."
"Oh, so it's Uncle Qrow?"
"Do not call him that."
"Uh, why would I not call him that; he's my uncle."
"He is not."
"Uh-huh. Sure mom."
"Fuck off."
Yang's feeling much better now as they continue onwards.
"Okay, so… judging by the fact that we're going to need the Spring Maiden, and yet it's just the two of us walking along here… you have the Maiden powers, then?"
"I do."
"It's just… you weren't using them when we fought. I didn't think you had them."
Raven scoffs. "Does a lion use all its strength when hunting a hare?"
"I mean, I'd think the lion would if it was getting its ass kicked, yeah."
"You were losing."
"I was biding my time. Waiting for an opportunity. I was completely fine."
"Uh-huh."
"Oh, I'm sorry, is little miss 'panic portal' going to claim she won that fight now?"
Raven snarls back at her, and Yang takes that as a win.
They walk on a while longer before the curiosity that's been hanging about the back of Yang's head for the last few days eats away at her restraint entirely.
"So, I uh…" Yang reaches up and scratches at the back of her neck, feeling quite awkward about actually asking Raven a real, meaningful question. "I assume things aren't going well right now with you and the rest of your team?"
Raven looks back at her guardedly. "What are you getting at?"
"I just uh…"
She can't exactly ask 'has Summer died yet?' because that would be a rather fucked up way of either A. bringing that topic back up, or B. giving Raven the knowledge that Summer is going to die.
She has a feeling that would fuck with the timeline a bit.
Still… she wants to know where she is in time. She's yet to get an exact idea, and honestly, she knows less about when Summer died than she'd really like. She'd been… seven or eight? Maybe nine? It was hard to really quantify that time of her life.
She'd been so lost in her grief, and her inability to take over for her father when he'd been entirely lost in his own grief, and the fact that she'd been trying to focus on her own burgeoning skills as a Huntress, and her own mom, and…
And it was just… hard, thinking back on it, to really get a decent idea of the timeline of events.
…She could just bring her mother up?
"How are they, I mean. Dad, and Qrow, and Mom?"
"Mo–" Raven's eyes bugged out. "Wait, do you mean Summer?"
"Uh, yeah?"
"She's not your mother."
Maybe it's just because Yang had her death on her mind, but… that statement angers her. Sets her eyes alight with crimson fire, has her hands clenching into fists.
"Well, she certainly did a lot better at it than you did, so I'd beg to differ."
Raven bristles pretty visibly at that.
"What the fuck would you know!?"
"I'd know an awful lot, given the first time I met you I was eighteen!" Yang shouts out, well and truly mad now, all those old insecurities bubbling up before she can cut herself off, before she can act reasonably. "Eighteen years of my life, and it was only then that I met the woman that birthed me. So yes, forgive me, Raven, for thinking that the woman who was there for me, who made me feel loved was my mother, and not the deadbeat who ran away!"
Raven snarls, then, pushing forward and gripping Yang by the shirt. She presses Yang against the harsh bark of a large oak tree, and gets right in her face.
And yet, when she looks like she's about to unload on Yang, she instead… stops. The anger drains from her face, and a dull numbness overtakes it.
"They're fine." She speaks, letting Yang go and stepping away. "All of them. Off living their merry old lives. No need for me."
Yang's still hot, despite the fact that Raven's cooled down to a low simmer. "What, feeling sorry for yourself?"
Raven glances back at her out of the corner of her eyes, sneers, and then asks, "Are you going to stand there all day?"
She's tempted to not let Raven avoid this conversation, to force it, even if things might come to blows between them. But…
"Yeah, sure," She spits out instead, pushing off of the tree and stepping back into their rhythm. "Whatever."
They walk a while. Nothing of note takes place. The air is still. Silent. It would be somewhat tranquil, if not for the horrid atmosphere between the two of them.
And then Raven speaks again; quieter, almost faint.
"Were you being serious?"
"Huh?"
"When you said you didn't meet me until you were eighteen." Raven doesn't look back at her, just keeps walking, as if this line of conversation is entirely casual. "Were you being serious?"
Yang has half a mind to respond sarcastically, but there's a lilt to Raven's voice that tells her that might not be wise.
"Yeah. I was." She answers, and then, she decides to be very honest. "And it's not like you were intending to see me, either. I went and found you."
Raven is silent. It feels like full minutes pass by as they keep walking, her following close behind.
Eventually, she says simply, "Ah."
Nothing else is said after that, not until the shattered moon's retreat, and the morning sun's rise.
/
They've been walking a while when Qrow speaks again.
"So… you're a Schnee?"
"I do believe I answered that question." She huffs out in frustration, both having expected Qrow to harangue her with questions, and having been entirely dreading it. "Yes, I am a Schnee. No, I will not be discussing this with you any further.
"It would make me feel an awful lot more trusting if you did."
"Somehow I think you're lying." Weiss rolls her eyes, even as she tries to focus on keeping the Ursa that's been tracking Marcus Black's tail focused on its task. "You've been suspicious of me from minute one. All you're trying to do is figure out more about me. Guilt isn't going to work, let me tell you that upfront."
"So, you acknowledge you have something to hide?"
"Doesn't everyone?" She fires back, and Qrow is at least quiet for a few minutes.
Eventually, however, Qrow starts up again.
"Is Nicholas Schnee your father?"
She huffs out a breath, and decides, y'know what? She's going to bullshit a backstory right this very moment.
"If you must know, yes, Nicholas Schnee was my father, although I did not know him well." A complete lie, but then, Qrow doesn't have to know that. She just has to play into what he already thinks, give him what he wants to hear. "You must know his first wife died just a few years after Willow Schnee's birth?"
"I knew that, yeah. Whole world knows it. Was a big deal."
"Well, suffice it to say, although my father never remarried, that does not mean he did not on occasion spend time with others." She feels bad throwing her grandfather's name under the rug just a tad here, but it's for the greater good; she hopes he'd understand. "I was born of one such temporary coupling. I was kept a secret. Rather closely guarded. I did not grow up in the Schnee Manor, and was instead sequestered away. When I was old enough, I struck out on my own, tired of being treated like a caged bird."
She could lace some truth into her story to make it sound more believable; to give it that edge that only something real, something palpable, could possess.
And Weiss truly had struck out on her own, growing tired of being her father's heiress, just a piece in his massive puzzle.
It was a familiar part to play.
"Huh." Qrow hums. "So, who was your mom?"
"How about this," She rounds on Qrow, having had just about enough of this. "How about you tell me who you work for? Who your parents were? Every tidy secret you keep in that closet of yours, right next to the skeletons. Hm?"
Qrow takes a step back with every sentence, and by the time Weiss has finished, he's got his hands up in mock surrender.
"Alright, alright, point heard."
"You don't get to act like I'm the bad guy here." Weiss growls under her breath. "You're the one who won't stop digging into what I've rather clearly labeled something I'd like to not talk about."
In a rather surprising move, however, Qrow runs his hand down the back of his neck – something she's seen Yang do about a thousand times – and awkwardly says, "Sorry about that. Been an agent for a while now. You… sort of start to suspect everyone of foul play when you're only hanging around scheming asshats."
That…
Weiss can remember the ballroom shows that her father would put on sometimes in the Schnee Manor. When she'd been younger, they had been quaint, occasionally even fun. But that had faded the second that she'd made her first 'friend' at one of those events. A younger boy whose name had long escaped her.
She could remember the smile in his eyes, on his lips. The warmth he'd conveyed.
They'd talked of doing all sorts of things together, and then…
Well, then his parents had joined in the conversation.
Suddenly, they were talking about how Weiss and this boy were oh so clearly in love. Talking about dating plans, wedding arrangements, marriage, consolidation of the Schnee family fortune…
Weiss had been nine.
The boy couldn't have been older than ten.
What had perhaps been the start of a burgeoning friendship – and hell, allowed to grow naturally, what very well may have been something that could have led to those parents' goals – had evaporated in an instant. She'd never seen them again; her father having swatted them away like gnats for such behavior.
Weiss had assumed that a one-off. Something that had been odd, but not indicative of everyone.
Yet the longer she'd spent in high society, the more she'd learned that the people there are all the same.
So yes… she knows what it is that Qrow's saying.
"Yes…" She speaks, barely audible. "I've lived through such experiences myself."
"Yeah, I guess you would've, huh?" Qrow chuckles. "Bit of a different kind of assholishness for you, probably."
Weiss can't argue there.
They walk a while longer in silence, which is this time, at least, semi-comfortable.
Then Qrow speaks again.
"I have a sister."
Weiss' eyes go wide. "You… what?"
"I just…" He sighs. "You were right, earlier. You were saying that if I wanted to be digging into how you felt, I should be willing to reveal those same things about myself. Hell, I said that it would build trust, didn't I? Well… I have a sister."
Weiss nods her head; she knows this. Knows, likely, more than Qrow is going to tell her.
…But it's a start.
"Go on."
As the next hour or so ticks by, Qrow tells her much about his and Raven's lives growing up. He tells Weiss how their parents had been killed early, how they'd had to scrap and fight and struggle for every bite of food, every single drink of water. How their lives had been irrecoverably changed by encountering a Huntsman out on a mission.
How they'd been sent off to a little place called Beacon Academy.
"And from there… well, it's not much of a story." He chuckles. "At least not one I want to share. So, y'know, touché and whatnot."
"You had a team, then?"
"Yep. Was on a team with my sister, and two others. Complicated group; real complicated, in all honesty, but… well, I guess I love 'em."
Weiss smiles. "I feel the same way about those I'm searching for. It's… there are a plethora of complicated emotions involved, but I love them all the same. I'd do anything to find them, and keep them safe from harm."
"Seems we're cut from the same cloth after all." Qrow snarks. "Me, a young, orphaned bandit… you the bastard child of a billionaire,"
"Oi,"
"So similar."
"Yes, yes, very funny."
They end up settling into another period of silence after that.
Still…
Weiss doesn't mind having Qrow hover over her quite as much anymore.
/
When Ruby steps into Team Rarity's dorm for the first time, she damn near begins to cry.
She's only barely able to hold herself together, which is a good thing, because she's not entirely confident she'd have been able to convince Roman – let alone Amber – that such had no deeper meaning.
My eye was just… itchy!
Yeah, no, somehow, she has a feeling that wouldn't work.
"Wow…" Roman looks around the room, one which Ruby had always considered big for a single person, but drastically too small for four. "It's huge! You mean we get this whole space all for the three of us!?"
"How is that a surprise?" Amber arcs an eyebrow as she steps into the room, and immediately takes one of the beds for herself, without so much as asking the two of them if they have any preference. "We were told we'd be given dorm rooms as a team before initiation."
"Ah, well…"
Ruby wants to chime in and defend Roman, given she knows he'd grown up on the street, and that these are, however modest, likely the nicest accommodations he's ever had. But she also doesn't want to go revealing Torchwick's story to Amber.
It's just not her tale to tell.
Still, Roman had given her that information quite quickly, so she imagines he'll just inform Amber now.
"Just nicer than I was expecting I guess," Roman chuckles. "Kinda' thought they'd skimp out on us, y'know?"
Ruby raises an eyebrow as Amber hums uncaringly, already beginning to unpack her things.
So, Roman's playing his cards close to the chest with Amber, then? She wonders if it's the girls more… standoffish personality that's caused such.
She doesn't know anything about Amber. Not really. She knows she's suspicious of Ruby – which possibly means she's talked with Ozpin or another member of the staff? – and that she seems to be a bit cold, but then, that last trait lines up rather well with how Weiss had been when she'd first come to Beacon.
It's kind of funny, but it's almost nostalgic to have a roommate who's acting like this.
…She probably shouldn't encourage it, though, no matter how much she secretly finds humor within it.
"Amber, y'know, you could've asked if we were okay with you taking that bed before you did."
Amber bristles visibly at that, her posture righting as if she's shocked to have even been addressed for such a thing. "…Why?"
"Maybe Roman or I would've preferred that bed."
"But I wanted it, and you hadn't made any moves towards it."
"I'm not saying you can't have it. I don't think either of us really mind?"
She looks over towards Roman, who, sure enough, shrugs. "Nah, I don't care."
"I just meant that we're a team now." She tries to explain. "And that means we should probably get used to talking with one another about these things. For example… well, I'm guessing we're all going to need to shower each morning, right?"
Roman's expression is well and truly shocked. Ruby has a moment where she realizes that he's probably not actually gotten to shower regularly – or really bathe regularly – in his entire life.
"Of course." Amber rolls her eyes, before arching an eyebrow. "Your point?"
Sheesh, she's just like Weiss was.
"My point is that we don't want each of us to be waking up trying to take a shower at the same time. That wouldn't really serve any purpose other than to make two of us frustrated. So… we should talk about it. Go over how long we'll need the bathroom in the mornings, and then work out a schedule. Stuff like that is what I'm talking about."
Amber's face, previously turned up, and haughty, gradually softens.
"…I suppose that's not a terrible idea."
"Uh, yeah," Roman chimes in. "I agree. I… I don't really need much time. I mean, I like the warm water, it's nice, but I don't need it, y'know? So, I can probably go for just ten minutes in the morning."
"Take twenty." Ruby laughs, and Roman's eyes widen. "We shouldn't have to rush. Classes start pretty late; we'll have plenty of time to get up and get ready. Amber, how long do you think you'll need?"
Amber seems to take a mental tally. "…Twenty-five minutes, give or take."
Not really all that crazy, actually. I was expecting worse.
"Alright. For me, I'll need about fifteen minutes. Roman, you can take first shower, then Amber, and I'll go last. How does that sound?"
There are no complaints.
"That's all I mean, Amber." She turns back towards her new… teammate. "Just, y'know, working with one another. Making things easier for each other, instead of harder."
Amber's face contorts somewhat, as if she's running some calculation inside her head. "You seem awfully familiar with this sort of thing."
"Ah, well… I've been in teams like this one before."
"Really?" Roman whistles. "Damn. You part of a gang or something?"
Ruby snickers. "No, Roman, I wasn't part of a gang. I had teammates at… another, lower-level Hunter Academy." Hopefully an academy that has such a system in place exists, or else she's going to be caught rather quickly on her lie. "But anyways, we should probably get some sleep and prepare for classes tomorrow."
"They start tomorrow!?" Roman's eyes bug out. "Aw, man. I thought we'd have a few days, at least."
Ruby's starting to get somewhat…
Not suspicious, because that implies that she thinks that Roman's up to no good. But she doesn't. She believes Roman genuinely does want to be a Huntsman, and that he's currently a good person.
Or, well, she hopes, anyways.
But even so…
There's something about Roman that's just not adding up.
…But she is, in all honesty, quite tired.
She can think more on that tomorrow, when her brain can comprehend complex thoughts again.
So, she asks Roman which of the beds he'd prefer – they've got some extra room given its just the three of them, and Roman selects the bed in the corner, which Ruby feels makes sense. That means she's in the middle.
She's pretty sure Amber would've been a lot more comfortable not sleeping next to her, given its clear she doesn't trust her, but unfortunately for Amber, she, quite literally, chose her bed.
It is now time for her to, quite literally, lie in it.
/
Jaune fades into consciousness slowly, his vision blurring, swaying.
The room around him is built up of plum-colored brick, with burning torches on the walls, and the general stench of sulfur in the air. Jaune has half a mind to gag, but can't quite bring himself to.
He's just… exhausted.
It's coming back to him, the why and the how. Cinder, Tyrian, and then…
Salem.
In the next moment, he's up, and yet, all he manages to do is bend his abdomen before his entire body screams at him in protest. He slumps back against the headboard of the bed he's in, and tries to get his bearings beyond the appearance of this room.
So… he's in Salem's base.
It is, as he'd already thought, pretty much exactly as he'd imagined it might be. All dark designs and evil atmosphere. It resembles rather closely some of the villain lairs he'd seen on TV when he'd been seven or eight, watching cartoons.
Except this is real.
And that is somewhat terrifying.
"Ah, you've awakened. Fantastic."
Jaune recognizes the accented drawl, the utter disdain for other human beings, and just the general dickishness in that voice immediately. He turns to his left, and sees, just as he'd expected, Arthur Watts.
He's younger, certainly. His hair's still all black, without a hint of gray, and his moustache clearly hasn't come in all the way yet. Still, Jaune would be hard-pressed to see him as anyone else.
"Vitals are relatively stable, and you even held together surprisingly well after the Mistresses… questioning," Watts sneers. "So, I suppose you're more durable than expected. Perhaps you and Hazel can create some sort of 'club'."
Jaune doesn't have time for Watts'… everything. "Where's Cinder?"
"The girl?" He arches an eyebrow. "In her room, a good-few floors down. You however are to remain here for the time being. The mistress wants you alive, and if you were to try and make it down so much as a few flights of stairs in your current condition, well… I do believe you'd collapse."
Jaune doesn't doubt the man's words; he feels more than exhausted. It's a torpor that seeps into his very bones, weighing him down. His body is almost begging him to just lay down, and rest.
"So, seeing as how you cannot move, I've been instructed to question you." Watts says, and Jaune watches as he draws a tool off of his back. "I would advise you answer honestly; doing otherwise would serve no purpose other than to make me have to discipline you, and frankly, as a doctor, I'm more than well aware that torture is not at all effective in terms of gaining accurate information. Still, the mistress has a reputation to uphold, and I will act as she has bidden me to."
In the next moment, Watts presses a button on the tool, and a blue bolt of electricity arcs between two points sticking out of it.
"Do you understand what I've said?"
"You're going to interrogate me?"
"Something like that, yes."
"Fine…" Jaune groans out. "Talk."
"Ah, good. Well, then, first off, your name."
"Salem already asked that."
"Yes, she did. I was told to make you confirm it. If you gave a fake name last time–"
"Jaune Arc."
Watts is rather clearly annoyed at Jaune interrupting him, but he looks down at something on what seems to be a miniature scroll on his wrist, hums, and then looks back up.
"Occupation."
"Huntsman."
"Licensed?"
"Yeah."
"Do you possess such a license with you now?"
"It's on my scroll."
"Hm. Noted." Watts types a few things into his wrists projected keyboard, then clears his throat and continues. "How did you come across young Cinder?"
Ah. The real questions.
"Just sort of stumbled upon her."
"Do you expect me to believe that?"
"I don't really have a better answer than that." Jaune says, fully unwilling to admit the full truth, no matter what torture he might be put through. If Salem figures out about the Blacksmith, the Ever After, everything Jaune had seen, then…
Well, chances are she's not going to use them for benign purposes.
And Jaune rather likes the Ever After.
Juniper, Somewhat, the Genial Gems… they're all still there.
He'll protect them if he can.
"The cameras outside the Glass Unicorn did not pick you up entering into the building." Watts notes. "I have checked the camera feeds as far back as a month ago, and you have never been seen there. Added onto that, according to Atlas police reports, you are an unknown. They have no leads on you, despite your face being rather clearly shown in several video feeds scattered about the city. Which tells me that you are an enigma of some kind."
Jaune opens his mouth, uncertain of what it is he's supposed to say to this.
"Either you entered in from the sewers, which I myself doubt, given that there was no such residue or smell upon your person or your armor, nor any chemical readings that might suggest such a journey, or, as the Mistress believes… you are the result of some magical anomaly."
Jaune uses every bit of willpower he has to resist reacting, to resist showing his shock on his face.
Salem… she'd been able to deduce such a thing so very quickly?
He supposes it makes sense. Aside from the Maidens, she's one of only two people in the entirety of Remnant who can use magic. She likely knows the signs of it more than anyone.
"Magic?" Jaune still tries. "The hell are you talking about?"
Watts watches him a moment, his face unreadable. Jaune stares back, trying not to crack, or show weakness.
"I do believe Tyrian was wrong about you; you're not near as bad a liar as he said, all told."
"What do you–"
Watts' electrical device comes down on Jaune's left leg, and the pain is instant.
It's hard to quite describe, because calling it pain feels… almost incorrect. It's less painful, and more… wrong. It feels like his body is being given orders from outside him, his muscles spasming in all sorts of ways.
It does result in pain, of course, but that doesn't seem the primary usage of the device.
"Gah," Jaune grits out, his teeth chattering together, jaw clenched. "What was…"
"A device I invented. Anti-personnel, mainly meant to be used by civilians to incapacitate would-be attackers. I called it the Wattser. Unfortunately, that name did not catch on among our research team. They elected to go with the name 'Taser' instead. How utterly dull." Watts sighs. "But, enough about that. I would advise you do not lie again. Else I will be forced to call in the Mistress herself, who very much still believes in the power of torture to gather information, no matter how many times I attempt to correct her."
Jaune bites down on the inside of his cheek, not wanting to experience whatever the hell that taser thing is again.
"So, allow me to ask again," Watts says, alighting the end of the taser with electricity.
"Just how did you come to know about young Cinder?"
/
It's the shouting that awakens Blake from her slumber within the Divinity's cargo hold.
Several of the other Faunus below decks are awake as well, hissing at one another in panicked whispers. Blake motions for them all to stay put – they can all see in the dark, and are more than able to make out her hand gestures, despite the complete lack of light – and makes her way up and out of the cargo hold, towards the deck of the ship.
As she makes it to the deck, she sees the crew of the ship running around, swearing below their breaths.
She finds the captain first.
"What's going on?" She asks him, and as he turns back to her, he does so with a low laugh, clearly agitated.
"Another ship on the horizon. Thought they might just let us by, but they've kept speed with us. Just now, they raised their flag. It's telling us to slow down, and allow them to board."
"Pirates?"
"Worse. At least for us." The man growls. "Atlas Military. Unfortunately, this is pretty normal in the seas around Menagerie; happens once every six or seven trips. The Atlesian Fleet here – which exists ostensibly for protection – will come on board, inspect the merchandise, and then let us through if we pass that inspection."
Blake's blood runs cold. "That… that inspection, does it include–"
"A trip down to the cargo hold to accidentally find a bunch of illegally smuggled criminals?" He looks down as Blake bites her bottom lip. "Yes, unfortunately, it does. And don't act so shocked I guessed. It's not that hard to tell missy. What'd the lot of ya' do?"
"They didn't do anything. I broke them out of an SDC mining camp. They were being heavily abused. The guards were about to brand a young boys face before I stepped in."
The man's lips peeled back in a snarl. "Gods damnit… and to think they call you animals. Alright, keep below deck, we'll try to talk them out of searching the ship."
"Do you think that will work?"
"Nah, not a damn chance." The captain barks out a wan laugh. "Still, I'm not really sure what else there is to do."
Blake considers that a moment.
"If you fail to convince them, what happens?"
"Well, they find your people, likely take control of this vessel, and sail us back to Atlas. My entire crew is arrested. Your people are, too. That, or they're sent back to the mining camp they came from. Which is, as you can guess, probably worse."
"So… if you can't convince them, you'll be arrested?"
"Probably, yeah. Why do you ask?"
Blake takes a deep breath, forcing her nerves down. "You talk with them. If that fails, then at the very least, I can deal with them."
"You'll–" The man's face contorts in shock. "You, alone? Against an entire ship?"
Blake gives a small smile. "Not like we've got much choice."
"Well, you're either highly capable, or you're insane. I guess I've got no choice but to bank on the former."
Blake nods her head, even as she starts scanning the deck for somewhere she can hide. She doesn't want to be forced back below deck. There's only one exit out of there. Sure, she could also bottleneck the soldiers in, but…
Well, that would be putting the refugees within the hold at risk.
She's not willing to do that.
Instead, she sets her sights on the crow's nest, currently manned by a crew member.
"I'll take point up there." She tells the captain.
"A'ight," He shouts up at the man in the Crow's nest to come down, and gives Blake the okay to go up herself. Before she does, though…
She's always been curious about something.
"If you don't mind me asking… you're human, right?"
The man eyes her. "I am. What of it?"
"Why would you go so far for us Faunus? There aren't many who would."
"Ah, well…" The man's voice becomes weaker, losing some of its vigor. "Long story. The short of it is I was a soldier in the Revolution. On the wrong side, to be clear. I… did things I'll never be able to make amends for. But… even so, I feel I have to try."
Blake nods her head slowly. "That's–"
And then…
Then Blake has an idea.
"Actually…"
The man turns towards her, and Blake flashes him a smile.
"I think I may have a way for you and your crew to get out of this with your reputations intact."
End Chapter 8
I confess that this is something of a nothing chapter, but in all honesty, everything here sort of needed to happen at some point. Some characters bonding, others settling in, others being tortured...
Wait, hang on...
Anyways, there won't be a lot of these kinds of chapters - ie chapters where all 5 mc's get a section - but they will crop up from time to time.
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