Dust in the Wind

by Buried In Ash

Choosing isn't the hard part. It's living with the consequences afterwards.

57. Vol2: Days in the Weeks III

"Six, you need to very carefully put that down." Weiss said, as she backed away from the table.

"I'm well aware snowflake." I said smoothly, very gently moving the chunk of crystal before me. "Just don't make any sudden moves."

Very gingerly I held the intact Dust crystal in front of me, being careful of its reactivity. It was only a small chunk of one, an inch in diameter and about twice as long at most. The powdered variety was a lot more volatile, as I'd discovered, but that didn't remove the danger. Just because the crystal wasn't as reactive as the powder didn't change the forces that I was still dealing with. If anything, the more solid configuration would exchange a longer reaction time for power. Meaning whatever I used it for would last longer.

I had no idea how powerful or exceptionally volatile Gravity Dust was either. For all I knew, if it went off, it'd be more like a grenade than any of the others. Really, they would've better categorized it as Force than Gravity. But, given it supposedly had an 'attractive' quality when you applied electricity to it, it worked well enough.

The crystal settled into the slug mold, and I immediately set about covering it with epoxy. Greatly lowering the likelihood that it was suddenly going to explode.

"… Ok, I think we're clear." I said "Everybody can stop holding their breath."

I looked to my side, and saw my teammates, sans Ruby and Weiss, and JNPR had all taken several large steps back. Ruby and Weiss had backed away slightly as well, but by comparison to everyone else, I'd say they were still well within the blast radius.

They all might've been, actually. Again, no clue how big the explosion would've been had it happened.

We were in the weapons workshop for another bout of maintenance and Dust related shenanigans. After Port had gotten the reloading bench out of mothballs for me, I'd set about doing some tests. Even if most of what I was doing was well trod ground, experimentation was always a bit fun, if dangerous. I'd tried a different formula for the Ice Dust after the previous rounds had resulted in huge block of ice nailing people. Useful, when applied in specific circumstances, but one note. I tried a different epoxy for the subsequent batch and lowered the Dust content. The round burst and coated most its surroundings in a thin sheet of ice. There was more utility to it, but I was going to keep kicking the idea around until I found something that worked. In the meanwhile, I decided to take a crack at a different type of Dust: Gravity. From the way it'd been explained to me, it behaved more like your standard accelerant when it went off. IE: it unleashed a wave of kinetic energy. It supposedly had some strange attractive quality when an electrical current was passed through it. I knew a lot less about that, but testing would need to wait. I needed to understand the basics of how this stuff worked before I started trying to figure out how to use it to make me fly.

I'd known about the powdered version's exceptional volatility, and had chosen to try and work with the solid crystal instead. Intuition said it would be much more stable to work with.

What I was not aware of however, was that it had a drastically different potency.

Apparently, of all the varieties of Dust I could've chosen to work with, Gravity was one of the most potent. Being used to make things like the airships used by Atlas and Vale be able to hover in the air like they were. One wrong move, and it'd be like having a grenade go off. A literal one, not the figurative ones that most other Dust tended to be.

I'd only really had that explained to me while I was breaking up the crystal for use, of course. Since I was already in danger, I figured the only harm would come about if I didn't see it through.

So, I set the crystals into the molds and left them to cure. I stepped away from the table, ushering everyone back towards our actual worktable.

"… Y'know, I wish you'd said something sooner." I said to Weiss, as calmly as possible "Preferably before I basically pulled the pin out of a grenade and decided not to throw it."

"I didn't know you were going to start immediately trying to work with gravity Dust!" Weiss snipped "It's common sense-"

"Do I really need to say no one explained it to me?" I growled back.

"…" Weiss gave me a pointed look, then clicked her tongue and looked away.

"…Thank you for at least saying something before it exploded though." I added.

Weiss didn't say anything, but I'm almost certain I heard someone whisper "You're welcome."

We settled back down at the table, and everyone slowly got back into the flow of things. Weapons didn't work on themselves after all. I'd begun going over my nightly equipment again. Most of it was in adequate condition. Which meant I had more time for experimenting and such.

"… Hey, Six." Ruby said, looking up as she slid the bolt back into her scyfle "Can I ask you something?"

"Depends." I said, levering the action open on my shotgun "Shoot."

"Why aren't you testing Dust using your other weapons?" She asked "You keep using the same type of shell, and I think it's for that one gun you use, your- um-"

"Flare gun." I supplied.

"Yeah, your flare gun." Ruby nodded "You know how to make your own ammo, which is actually really cool, so why don't you make, like, actual ammo?"

"A fair question." I admitted "The answer is a bit complicated, but you're a gun-nut like me, so you'd probably understand where I'm coming from."

Ruby nodded, and finished reassembling her weapon, before folding it back into its smaller, rectangular storage mode.

"Largely, what I'm trying to do is figure out how I can integrate Dust into the way I fight." I explained "Epoxy works fine if all I'm doing is firing them from my flare gun. It was built to lob projectiles like that. If I tried to do the same thing through a rifle barrel, the round would probably tear itself apart before it left."

"Which would damage the weapon." Ruby said.

"Very much so, yes." I agreed "Secondly, I want to figure out what kinds of effects using Dust can have on my weapons before I move onto the more mechanically complex ones. My aura may allow me to re-enforce my weapons and make them more resistant to wear and tear, but Dust is strange. Gunpowder is purely an accelerant, an explosive of some category. Ergo, my weapons are built to handle those kinds of pressures and tolerances. But Dust having its more bizarre, elemental effects makes it tricky to test. If it's going to do screwy things to my weapons, I want to know."

"Like what?" Ruby asked.

"Well…" I thought about it for a moment, then had an idea "Can I see you're weapon for a minute?"

Ruby looked curiously at me. "You want to look at Crescent Rose?"

"It's purpose built to fire Dust rounds, right?" I said "I trust it's well-built, and the frame of reference will help with explaining."

Ruby brightened quite significantly at that. "Sure!" She passed the folded weapon over to me. "There's a release lat-"

I pressed the release and carefully began unfolding the weapon in its rifle configuration, blade still folded underneath the weapon. It was a bolt-action rifle, .50 caliber, somewhere in the range of what the Mojave would consider an Anti-Material rifle. I could see a lot of differences in the design, but I could see enough similarities to make it work.

I thumbed the magazine release, it was unloaded, and held the magazine up for Ruby to see.

"Firstly, the feed system." I said "A minor thing, but given the volatility of Dust, and my inexperience working with it, I'd need to make sure they actually have the force to cycle properly. Or determine if there are any modifications I'd need to make to keep them from detonating. I've had luck with that so far, but it's easier to work in small quantities than large ones."

I set the magazine down, and moved onto the bolt. I twisted it and drew it back, examining it as I went. I removed it from the receiver mechanically, easily. "Another issue is the bolt and receiver. Again, everything is beefed up to handle the explosive energy of gunpowder. But that doesn't mean it's made to handle the heat of a fire-Dust round, or the implied force of a gravity round. What if I load a lightning round into the barrel? Do I need to insulate the barrel to keep static electricity from causing it to detonate in the chamber?"

I set the bolt down and moved back to the rest of the receiver and the barrel. There was a pair of locking pins keeping the receiver in one piece. I removed them easily, and the barrel assembly hinged in half, upward. I pulled the barrel out smoothly, carrying the feed-ramp with it. There was even a small buffer assembly attached to it, which was neat. "Another consideration is what kind of effect the rounds could have on the rifling of the barrel. Again, I pushing insane temperatures and substances against things that were never meant to handle them. Intense fire could easily warp or weaken them, or lightning could reduce them to slag."

Things continued on for some time like this. I basically went through my thoughts with Ruby as I continued to dismantle her weapon in front of her. The lot of it boiled down to how Dust could potentially destroy my weapons in catastrophic ways. But they were things based off of my own observations more than anything. As I continued to learn and experiment, odds were in my favor that I'd find ways to balance it all.

By the time I was done, Ruby's weapon was in a dozen different pieces, meticulously set out before me.

"Frankly that's the just the basics." I said, reaching the end of my spiel. "That's not even getting into material considerations and… um, Ruby?"

Ruby didn't respond, here gaze was down at the table, staring intently and quietly. I tracked her gaze back down to the table.

That was when I realized: I'd completely dismantled Ruby's weapon. Perfectly.

"… Oh- shit, sorry." I said, and immediately began putting it back together "I didn't mean to completely screw up everything you just did."

"N-no, I'm just…" Ruby said, looking completely flummoxed "… H-how did you do that?"

"Do what?" I asked "Breaking down a weapon isn't so hard. Do it enough times you learn how to feel things out."

It honestly came natural after a while. Like I could see the way everything fit together, like a giant puzzle. A giant puzzle meant to kill monsters, but a giant puzzle. You slide the right pieces into place, compress the springs the right way, give it a love-tap or two, and everything came together. I'd chalk the smoothness of it more to Ruby's craftsmanship than my own skill, really.

After a few moments, I had Ruby's weapon reassembled and slid it back to her. The confusion did not leave her however. She picked up her weapon and, standing from the table, cycled it through its various configurations. She did so seamlessly and smoothly.

After she finished, she closed it and set the weapon back on the table. She goggled at it for a moment, before doing the same to me.

"… Is something wrong?" I asked.

"No!" Ruby said, amazed "It's exactly how it's supposed to be!"

"Oh, good." I said "Had me worried for a moment that I bro-"

"How did you do it?" Ruby asked again, excitedly.

I shrugged "Just practice, I guess. I made a habit of dismantling almost every weapon I came across to scavenge for parts. Again, after a while I just got good at it. Speaking of-" I shifted towards Jaune, who was watching the exchange between Ruby and me. They all were, actually.

Jaune had his sword set into a jig, and was trying to sharpen the battered blade with a whetstone. He had more issues he should've been focusing on besides sharpening it, but that was his prerogative, not mine. "Jaune, you might want to try sweeping passes along the length of the blade." I explained "You'll get a more uniform edge that way. Also, keep angle shallow, or you'll undo all your hard work."

"O-ok, thanks." Jaune nodded. His hand bent at the wrist, more conducive to a cutting edge.

I tried to ignore everyone's gaze as I returned to the conversation with Ruby. "Frankly, I could probably dismantle most of you guys' weapons and reassemble them without too much trouble. Might even be able to use most of them given half a chance. But we're kinda sidling away from what we were talking about."

"Y-yeah, just… no one's ever taken Crescent Rose apart completely before, besides me." Ruby said "She's one of a kind."

"I'd believe it." I said, running a hand over the upper receiver, resting it on the scope, which frankly was a bit small for a weapon the size of Crescent Rose, but to each their own. "Last time you let me look at it I was impressed by a lot of what you'd managed to do with it. Having gotten to take it apart now, I could actually see the love and care you put into it. I'm pretty sure I could see my reflection on the bolt."

Ruby flashed me a luminous smile. She liked talking about weapons, being told she'd made a good one probably did good for her self-esteem.

"But like I was saying-" I continued "Those are the kinds of things I'd need to consider when working with Dust in my weapons. Yes, I could probably throw together a rifle or pistol cartridge that uses Dust like I do with my flare-shells. Making one into a shotgun shell would be trivial, I could pump out a dozen of the things for Yang to use, and probably have them be twice the quality of what she already uses."

"I don't know whether to be insulted or interested." Yang says giving me a dry look.

"Why would you be insulted? Ammo's expensive and you work with what you've got." I said "But it's for those same reasons that I'm limiting my Dust experiments to my flare gun for the time being. If it breaks, it'll be easier for me to fix than trying to re-cut the rifling in a new barrel, or re-forge a receiver… Though talking about it now, I should probably give making some 20ga shells a shot. At the very least the damages would be limited."

"You make it sound easy." Weiss said "But if it was, it would be more common for students to learn it, and you wouldn't keep nearly blowing yourself up."

"Easy? No, not by a long shot." I countered, shaking my head "I've just done it enough to know what I'm talking about. It's still dangerous without the right precautions, but working with gunpowder is even more so. Working with Dust is dangerous because of its myriad effects. If gunpowder goes off while you're working with it though… well, they won't be needing a very large box to bury you in, let's just leave it at that."

"I think you're underestimating how dangerous Dust can be in large quantities." Blake commented.

"Oh, probably, but that's just semantics really. Having either of them go off on you will probably end poorly." I said "And just because it sounds simple doesn't change the fact that it can be stupidly dangerous. It's easy to start a fire, with the right tools. It's even easier to set a building on fire if you have no idea what you're doing with those same tools."

"Tell me about it." Nora groused "Nana Bess never forgave what I did to the smoke house."

"… For some reason I'm not surprised you've burned a building down at some point." I said, looking at Nora in a lopsided way "That genuinely just sounds like something you'd do by accident."

Nora's cheeks flushed and she flailed her arms "She said it needed fire, how was I supposed to know she only meant a little bit?" She motioned to Ren, sitting beside her "C'mon Renny, back me up here!"

Ren did no such thing. The most she got out of him was a smirk, a chuckle, and a nudge on the shoulder.

The fact that those three things were enough to get Nora to completely stop spoke volumes. Nora just gave him a big, toothy smile.

The boy knew secrets I would never be able to learn.

"But, even with those dangers I still prefer tinkering with munitions to other work." I said "It's more forgiving than some of the chemistry I have to do to make certain other substances. Or having to make repairs to certain machines and electronics. I love the work, at times, but it can give me such a headache. Especially if I'm working with laser weaponry."

Ruby's eyes immediately lit up. "Really?"

I smirked a little at that. "Absolutely. In order for Energy Weapons to be at their most effective and efficient, you need to make sure all of the components are calibrated properly. Even more so than you would a standard firearm."

Ruby's eyes started to widen. "Are… are we-"

"Yes, we're going to talk about Energy Weapons now." I said "Seems an appropriate time, given the location."

"Yay!" Ruby shouted.

"Oi, voice down, this is a private thing, remember?" I asked, eyeing the students who noticed Ruby's outburst.

She flushed red a little, and tittered a small chuckle. "Sorry, just excited."

"I'm sure you are." I said "So, where do you want me to start? History, construction, maintenance- pick your poison."

"Ooo- Let's start with how they work." Ruby said quickly "Because- um- Yeah, how do they work?"

"Different from over here, I'm sure." I said "Since we don't have Dust, things have to be kept a little more conventional. If you can call Atlas' weird Dust rifles a 'laser rifle'."

"Conventional by your standards, anyway." Weiss sniffed.

I swiped open a section of the table to work on, and set out a piece of paper. I took a pencil and began sketching, visual representations helped, in some case. "Let's start with the basics, you know what a laser is, correct?"

"Um, it's light." Ruby said "But it's focused like a flashlight, right?"

"A crude explanation, but yes." I agreed "Light, in all its forms, is a type of electromagnetic radiation, covering a spectrum that is both ridiculously broad and hilariously small. In the case of lasers, they are a small, specific part of that spectrum. Being specifically amplified and concentrated to achieve various uses. In the interest of not going off on a tangent, I'll avoid talking about them and just focus on their use in weapons." As I said this, I sketched out a basic layout for a laser array, like you'd find in a pistol or rifle. "You've got a couple of key parts that make up an array, that all designs are based on. You need a power source, a capacitor, a wave/particle diverter, various focusing crystals, and some form of housing for all of it." I finished my crude sketch and turned it around towards Ruby, passing the drawing to her.

Ruby took the crude pencil sketch and looked at it with scrutiny. She wasn't awed by it, but was meticulously observing it. Which I took as a sign of great investment. She'd been wanting to hear about Energy Weapons for some time, so making sure she had a held interest was key.

"The power source charges the capacitor; the electricity is in turn transmitted to the diverter. The diverter converts the electricity from the capacitor into a more concentrated portion of the Electro-magnetic spectrum. Which, after being converted, is then diverted into the focusing crystal arrays that make-up the 'barrel' of these weapons. The laser is further focused and concentrated as they pass through the crystals, until they leave the housing altogether in a bolt of, typically red, light."

"You mean a laser." Ruby said.

"Yes." I assented.

"Cool~." Ruby tittered.

"Very." I agreed, motioning to the diagram "While all of those pieces are important, however, the most important one is the diverter. Without it, the weapon won't even function. Which is why it's generally a rare thing to see Energy Weapons around the Wasteland. Aside from the lack of ammo, anyway. Bullets are a lot easier to manufacture."

"So normal guns are better?" Ruby asked "That doesn't make sense."

"It's not a matter of 'better' in this case, Ruby." I explained "Most of your typical firearms are, again, better suited for the wastes. They're sturdy, easily maintainable, ammo is less rare, and unless it has some form of mounted optic on it, I can accidentally drop it and reasonably believe it'll be fine. Y'know, all things that are ideal in a place like the Mojave."

Ruby looked at me in confusion. "They can't be that bad. Otherwise, there wouldn't be any of the still around, right?"

"Well, technically yes. However, most of the stuff that survived to present day were the older models. They were built sturdier, and could survive the harsh conditions they found themselves put into. Most of the 'rifles' you'll find are derived from AER9 model, top of the line would've been the AER12's. The 12's were just too fragile to survive. Though you'll still find some of the more advanced kit if you go scavenging in the right place. But you've got a lot more drawbacks to contend with when working with Energy Weapons. Just take what I said about firearms, invert it, and that's the trouble with energy weaponry. They're finicky at times, parts are scarce and extremely hard to manufacture, ammo can be next to impossible to find, and while the housing is typically strong, if you drop it, you run the risk of causing problems one and two. They were built for combat, but there are times you'd never think that."

"Sounds like you really just don't like them." Weiss said, giving me a narrow look.

"Gee I wonder why." I deadpanned "That's not even counting the day-to-day maintenance. You have to almost routinely open them and check for damages, or even just realign the focusing arrays. If even one of them is out of alignment with the rest of them you lose both efficiency and efficacy. Which tends to happen when you're out in the field."

"You're really just taking all the fun out of this, y'know?" Ruby said, the wind clearly taken out of her sails.

"I just don't have a very high opinion of them." I said "There's plenty of people who swear by them, but I've just never seen the point. They're flashy and cool, but I can achieve comparable results eight-to-ten using conventional weaponry… Still, I will concede that they have their advantages."

Ruby nodded, listening.

"Because they're not reliant on an accelerant or cased ammunition, Energy Weapons are typically recoilless. Barring certain moving parts on specific designs." I explained "Meaning there's less of a need to compensate for that. Additionally, because it's not an actual projectile, and just a directed beam of radiation, their effective range is far greater. Aided further by the fact that the laser itself is literally moving at the speed of light, only leaving an ionized vapor trail behind it. Meaning you don't have to lead your shots either. All things that can lend themselves to certain marksmanship roles."

Ruby's eyes began glittering as I explained some of the weapon's perks rather than just espoused their flaws.

"In terms of damage, lasers aren't exactly lacking either." I continued "While a bullet can have different perforating effects depending on the type of ammo used, lasers tend toward a common mold. Pretty much all of them are guaranteed to burn a fist-sized hole into whatever they hit. The only difference tending to be how deep the burn and what kind of target you hit with it."

"It depends on the power source, right?" Ruby asked "Like, how much energy it can draw from?"

"A good guess, but not entirely correct." I said "The power source is typically treated more like a magazine you'd find on a standard firearm. It's a combination of the capacitor, diverter, and focusing arrays that determine its function as a weapon. The capacitor determines how quickly and how powerful a shot you can produce. The diverter, again, converts that energy into the laser. Then the focusing arrays hone it into the ubiquitous bolt of deadly light."

"Um, speaking for those who don't understand any of this." Jaune said, raising his hand "Why can't you just hook the power straight to the thing that makes the laser?"

"A good question." I acknowledged "The answer is simple: transfer. A power cell can only put out electricity so quickly. Which can lead to unnecessary strain on the whole system, as well as power lost to heat in the process. Instead of running the system directly from the source, you instead use the power source to continually charge the capacitor. Once the capacitor is appropriately charged, the weapon can be fired, and that stored energy can much more quickly be sent through system. Making it much more effective than just running directly off the power source."

Jaune nodded, seeming to understand how I explained it.

"And that's what determines how powerful a laser is, right?" Ruby asked "The capacitor and the diverter."

"Now you're on the right track." I nodded "Energy Weapons come in all shapes and sizes, including rifles and pistols. The rifles tend to be more powerful due to increased size, increased number of components, and similar such things. The tradeoff being they typically fire slower since, again, now there is more strain on the power supply. Which leads to requiring different ammo as well, but that's tangential. Conversely, pistol-style Energy Weapons pack less punch but typically fire faster due to being pared down. Less parts to flow through, less strain, but you pay for it in the damage department."

"What kind of difference does it make?" Ruby asked "If the rifles use more power than the pistols, it has to make a difference, right?"

"Of course, otherwise there wouldn't be much point in the distinction." I agreed "In general, lasers are typically most effective against soft targets. Things like clothes, woods, various paper products-"

"People." Blake said blandly.

"-and some softer styles of body armor." I finished, motioning to Blake "They wouldn't be worth much as weapons if they didn't work so well against organic matter."

Ruby blanched a little at whatever mental image that gave her, but soldiered on. "But what kind of difference do they make?"

"Well, in terms of range they're both comparable." I explained "A laser is a laser, it travels almost indefinitely until it collides with something. However, the increased number of focusing arrays make the rifle more accurate over those extended distances, naturally. In terms of power as well. Both have the power to superficially melt concrete or burn holes through softer targets. But a rifle is more likely to melt through a steel plate than a pistol. The temperatures you're dealing with in your typical laser are, frankly, ludicrous."

"That's hot." Yang said snidely.

"Shut up, Yang." Ruby groused.

"They are, ultimately, effective weapons." I conceded "However, despite their formidability, the drawbacks I mentioned before hamper them immensely. They have other drawbacks as well that derive from their nature of being lasers rather than solid projectiles."

Ignoring that light could exist as both a wave and a particle.

Physics.

"What kind of drawbacks?" Weiss asked, clearly fighting off the glazed-over look everyone else seemed to be getting. "Even if they make for poor handheld weapons, they would still be effective as mounted ones I assume. Most Atlas military vehicles have those types of weapons mounted on them."

"Well for one, they lack the impact of a bullet." I explained "They're literal light, so the kind of force they can inflict on impact is typically negligible. Great if you want to take out a soft target without massive collateral damage, not so great if you're trying to stop something in its tracks. Although I wouldn't be surprised to find that they did make vehicle mounted versions. Frankly I've just never seen any and, again, there were a lot drawbacks. Further compounding it, laser weapons can have difficulty when it comes to armor for similar reasons."

"But you said it can melt steel." Ruby said "How could it not be good against armor?"

"Well, I could tell you." I said "But you're a weapons-nut, you might already know part of the answer if you stopped and thought about it."

Ruby squinted at me pointedly, but focused elsewhere, mulling over the statement.

I drummed my fingers against the table, patiently. Ruby was an odd-ball, but she was knowledgeable when it came to the things she cared about. I got the sense that, even when dealing with things she wasn't entire familiar with, she could intuit more information that she thought.

"… They're not bullets, so it's not about how hard they hit." Ruby said, trying to puzzle it out "But if they're struggling with armor…" Her silver eyes suddenly began to glitter. "If they're used against heat resistant material, they're not as effective."

"You're on the right track." I said with a nod "Most metal armor can be a challenge for a number of reasons. The thickness of it can make it a challenge to begin with, but if its heat diffusion is high enough, it make the laser even less effective. The same holds true if the material is itself insulative, specifically reflective."

"Like a mirror." Ruby said, eyes still glittering.

"What does that mean?" Yang asked, trying to follow the conversation.

"He's saying that the lasers can be reflected off of shiny objects." Ruby explained "Kind of like how a bullet can ricochet if shot at the right angle."

"Exactly." I said "Couple those factors together and you start to get why lasers may not be as effective as advertised. As long as the armor is either properly insulated, reflective, or capable of withstanding the extreme temperatures, the weapons become almost ineffective at anything. Consider now, that most robots are typically well armored, and that ceramic armor exists."

"So as long as you're properly prepared, lasers go from being really effective, to not." Ruby said succinctly, still mulling "… But you could still get around it, like if you made the laser hotter, or found a way to add more force to it."

"This is also true." I agreed "Those are the alternatives to making a laser more effective. However, then you run into the problems of how to make that happen. How do you make a laser hotter? How do you put more force behind literal light?"

"Um…" Ruby puzzled. She was concentrating so hard, I could almost see steam coming out of her ears. "I… I don't know."

"Don't worry, I wasn't expecting you to have an answer." I said, nodding "Those are the types of questions that the pre-war weapons designers had to answer. Despite my distaste for them, Energy Weapons were, and still are, effective. As long as you know how to use them, and deal with their finicky nature. Like I said before, the AER9 was just the model of laser rifle to survive to the present day. They weren't the top of the line though."

Though I did own one of the few remaining prototypes of the AER14 series. Having seen for myself how effective it was, it showed just how much had been lost in the intervening centuries.

"Is there anything else?" Nora asked, trying to worm her way into the conversation "Like, you keep talking about rifles and pistols, what, did you guys never try and make laser shotguns, or machineguns?"

"No, we did." I said "Though 'shotgun' is a bit of a misnomer, there does exist an energy weapon called a Tri-beam laser rifle. Which basically fills the same role. They cut down the size of it and changed the emitter to fire three lasers at once. Though they're even more temperamental than your standard energy weapon because of the extra strain those emitters add."

"Wait- gatling lasers!" Ruby said, snapping her fingers "You mentioned them too when we talked about… um… y'know, robots."

As Ruby spoke, she seemed to remember we were in public, and shouting was a good way to grab people's attention.

"Yes, gatling lasers are also a thing." I agreed, giving a quick glance around to see if her sudden shout had attracted anyone's undue attention. Aside from some odd looks, no one was really paying us any mind. "They were developed as a way to try and increase the AER laser system into a more powerful weapon. Effectively turning the rifle more into a minigun than a machine gun, but the principle carries."

"How did they do tha- wait, no!" Ruby said, suddenly deciding to try and figure it out herself "… Minigun…" Her face grew confused as she seemed to come to her own conclusion. "Did… did they just take a bunch of laser rifles and strap them to a rotating chassis?"

"… Do I really need to answer that?" I asked.

Ruby gave me a simultaneously appalled and awe-struck look. "That's cool… but it's so stupid!"

"If it's dumb, but works, is it really dumb?" I asked.

"… I mean…" Ruby shrugged "Not really?"

"Then there's your answer." I said "It might seem stupid, but it did the trick. The overall system is less powerful than your standard laser rifle, because they had to shrink the design to make it more manageable. But the trade-off for the inherent power came in that its rate of fire was dramatically improved. If a laser rifle could fire a bolt every second, then a gatling laser dwarfed that, firing eighteen hundred bolts per minute."

Ruby looked at me, thunderstruck. "Eighteen hundred!?"

"Yes, one thousand eight hundred. Which, frankly, makes it slow by minigun standards, but fast by your typical energy weapon's." I said.

"… Cool~" Ruby intoned.

"Yeah, frankly." I agreed "Pretty cool."

"What else you got?" Nora asked "You've got to have something else you're not telling us. I wanna know, buster."

"Oh, I always have something I keep in reserve." I said, smirking at her "It's just a matter of what I feel like telling you."

I should've watched my mouth.

Now Nora's eyes started glittering.

"Oh yeah?" She asked, grinning maniacally "Is that a challenge, Mister?"

"… No, no it's not." I said succinctly.

"Too bad." Nora said "Because now I've got questions."

'Of course she does.'

"… Alright." I said "Hit me."

"If I did that, I might hurt you." Nora said, giving me a toothy grin.

"Funny." I retorted "But, what's your question."

Nora's smile maintained its manic edge, but gained a strange quality to it. One I'd almost describe as 'crafty'. "First, let me present my evidence."

"Evidence?" I asked "What do you need-"

"First!" Nora squawked "You seem to intimately know how these weapons work, both mechanically and in combat. Implying that you've used them in past."

"…" I didn't respond to that. Frankly That one seemed fairly self-evident.

"Second!" Nora squawked, again "You know what happens when they're used against the inappropriate targets, and have implied that there exist multiple kinds of 'Energy Weapons' to work around that."

"…" Again, I kept my mouth shut. This time for fear of implicating myself

"Third!" Nora squawked, again "By your own admission, you enjoy hiding cool things from us!"

"… What's your point?" I asked, not liking where this conversation was leading

Nora gave me a grin I'd expect to see on, say, an animal that thought it'd cornered its prey. She had something she wanted to say, and I think she knew I wasn't going to like what it was.

Then suddenly, the look vanished. Replaced by a vacuous air. Completely devoid of her usual energy.

"Nothing." Nora said, giving me a neutral smile "I just wanted you to know I was paying attention."

"… Ok." I said "But none of that was really a question."

"I know." She said smoothly, soothingly "It was just a test."

"Uh… right." I said, now trying to puzzle out what her angle was. She'd been following a line of reasoning, and I just wasn't sure what it was. Even if she'd suddenly abandoned it, I needed to know why-

"I was just going to ask if you had any guns that shoot lightning." Nora said "Those would count as Energy Weapons, right?"

"You mean Tesla Cannons?" I asked, rhetorically.

My brain immediately locked-up as the words left my mouth. I immediately realized what Nora had just done.

The grin raced back to her face, her usual energy bubbling through it "Ah HA!"

The pieces began to fall into place. Nora paid attention, like she said. I'd kept using the term Energy Weapons throughout me and Ruby's talk. I'd obliquely made reference to there being things made to work around AER systems inherent weaknesses. I'd made it painstakingly clear that I had a very tacit understanding of how these things worked. What I hadn't been willing to admit, was that there existed other Energy Weapons besides lasers. If the conversation was going to start to take that turn, I'd already decided to put it back on track. Because that would be too much information. I'd expected it, I'd been prepared for it.

But she got through anyway.

Because I wasn't expecting it from Nora of all people.

Because I hadn't expected Nora to play the mental equivalent of chess to do it.

Because Nora was Nora. She wasn't… wasn't-

Everyone who wasn't looking at me looked to Nora, looking as confused as I felt. Everyone save for Ren and Ruby. Ren just gave me a knowing, bemused smile.

Ruby, on the other hand, was looking at me with the same bewildered and excited energy she'd had throughout the entire conversation so far. Only now there was an expectant quality to it. She knew I had more to give, and she wanted it.

Nora flashed me a cheeky smile, her eyes glittering with an almost electric pride. She knew exactly what she'd just done, and was proud of it.

"…You wily little brat!" I said, shaking my head and chuckling despite myself "How!?"

"I pay attention." She said proudly, stabbing a thumb at herself. "And now I know how to get the truth out of you, Mister Man."

"If you think it's going to be that eas-" I started.

"You've got guns that shoot lightning?" Ruby suddenly shouted, cutting me off.

"Uh-" I started.

"What others are there!?" Ruby asked, eyes glittering as she began to lean closer from across the table.

"I mean-" I tried to continue.

"How far do they shoot?" She pushed, suddenly halfway across the table "How powerful are they!?"

"Well- it's- uh-"

Suddenly, Ruby was the rest of the way across the table and gripping the collar of my jacket. Her face so close I could make out the glitter of her silver eyes flawlessly. It might've been the angle, but she looked like she was… blushing. "Can you pair them with lasers!?" She asked.

With practiced ease, I ducked down and slipped out of the jacket of my uniform. Stepping back and away from the table. Leaving Ruby laid across it, holding the now limp garment as she tried to understand where I went.

"Alright, that's enough." I said, regaining my composure. "There's a reason why I didn't want to talk about them, and this is a prime example of it."

Ruby blinked, and the glitter vanished from her eyes. She looked down and realized what exactly she'd just been doing, and the blush I thought I'd seen on her cheeks raced over the whole of her head. Immediately, she scrambled backwards and off the table. Our teammates and JNPR looked to be stifling laughter at the display.

Cautiously, I approached the table again. "Yes, there are other Energy Weapons. No, I'm expressly not going to talk with you about them. You're like a dog with a bone about this stuff, and no, I don't mean Zwei." I said succinctly "… Can I please have my jacket back?"

Without looking at me, Ruby blindly tossed the piece of my uniform to me over the table. "S-sorry."

I shrugged back into my jacket, not answering Ruby, but giving Nora the stink-eye. "You see the trouble you cause?"

"Worth it." Nora smirked "'Cause now we all know you've got all kinds of other cool things to talk about."

"You already knew that." I said.

"Yeah, but now I know you've got lightning guns." Nora said.

"Yeah, whatever." I said "How did you figure that one out anyway?"

"I pay attention." Nora admitted with a smile.

"She actually scores a lot higher on Port's tests than people think." Ren admitted.

"And I don't even study!" Nora chirped.

"One of those does not preclude the other." I said dryly.

Nora looked at me, stricken. "Are you kidding!? Have you managed to stay awake through all of Port's classes?"

"Admittedly, no." I said "But I do bare bones studying and get passable grades anyway."

"Well, I don't study, and I'm still passing anyway!" Nora squawked.

Out of the corner of my eye, I swear I could see Professor Port physically cringing. Nora wasn't exactly quiet, and the conversation was becoming increasingly more public.

"Alright, alright, dial it back." I said "You're passing, big whoop. You've got a good memory and a decent idea of how to apply it. There's more to it than just memorizing facts."

"Oh really?" Nora asked, an audacious smirk on her face "How about we make a bet then."

"A bet?" I asked "What kind?"

"Pancakes and Backrubs, what Renny and me do." Nora said "If I win, I get pancakes, I lose, you get a backrub."

"I meant your game, pancake." I said "I'm no stranger to gambling, but you need to actually have something to bet on before you can actually gamble anything."

"Oh, right." Nora said, tongue darting out of her mouth as she made a quick, dopey expression. She rapped herself quickly on the head, and refocused on me. "I'm going to make a guess about you. If I'm right, you owe me pancakes!"

"And if you're wrong, I get a backrub." I added "… Just saying that you're going to be making a guess about me is a bit broad of a game, you'll need to be more specific… given you seem keen on trying to prove your cognitive capabilities, something related would be appropriate."

"Huh?" Nora chirped.

"… Your ability to think." I supplied.

"Oh… duh." Nora intoned, chastising herself.

I mulled the idea over for a moment. It seemed a fairly benign and innocent. "…Your deductive reasoning seems a bit lacking, so why don't we make a gamble on that." I said "Given everything you've heard today, why don't make a guess based off of that?"

"Off of Energy Weapons?" Nora asked.

"Or similar related topics." I said "If you make a correct guess, then we'll count that as your win. If you can't then we'll-"

"You have one with you." Nora said succinctly.

"… Pardon?" I asked.

"You brought an energy- laser- whatever with you when you came here." Nora said, eyes scrunched shut in concentration. "You know that they're good weapons, so you wouldn't leave without one. But you also like to keep secrets and you know how fragile they are, so you've avoided bringing it out. They're hard to repair, so if something goes wrong, you're worried you might not be able to fix it. You also know that Ruby really likes talking about weapons. If she knew you had one, and didn't show her, you'd never hear the end of it."

The whole table stared blankly at Nora for a moment.

Her eyes then opened pointedly towards me, a triumphant smirk on her face. "So… was I close?"

"…" I didn't say anything. We were officially in dangerous territory now. My silence did nothing to reassure any of them.

Then Ruby's eyes started glittering again. "Is… is she right?"

"…" I drummed my fingers on the table as I tried to think of the best way to respond to such an accusation. Was it to just say no? The longer I took to respond that way the less believable it would be. But just outright saying yes would open the door to having Ruby jump at me again. It would also give Nora the satisfaction of having proven her deductive prowess. Which frankly, impressed me, and made me wonder what she could do if she actually tried. Maybe she wasn't a genius, but quick wits mattered. No, my response would need to be something a bit more involved to try and head-off that sort of thing. It would need to be tactful, appropriate, and-

"Fuck you, Nora." I growled, getting up from the table. Eliciting a confused yelp from her.

I stormed my way back across the workshop, towards the locker room. The place was basically deserted which made things easier. But, really, I wasn't sure how many people were going to bother paying attention anyway. I just knew that I didn't want any more people sticking their noses where they didn't belong.

I went to my locker, and opened it. I dug through my weapons until I found what I was looking for. It wasn't so hard, I didn't have many weapons with me that used a drum magazine. It wasn't a real magazine, but it stuck out like a sore thumb anyway.

I pulled the weapon out of my locker, made a token effort to hide it in my jacket, and started back. Of the one or two people I passed on the way, I got a strange look, but not much else. They'd have no clue what I was carrying to begin with, but the less people I had looking at it the better. I crossed the workshop once more at a brisk pace. As I approached our table, I noticed they'd begun murmuring amongst themselves. But I noticed Nora and Ruby were looking straight at me, expectantly.

Without warning, I flipped my Laser RCW out of my jacket. Muzzle swinging to the floor, as my hand glided easily up the stock to the grip.

Ruby and Nora's jaws hit the floor first. My sudden return killing what little conversation had been growing. I believe snowflake's last words were "There's no way he actually has-"

I set down at the work table and put the weapon out in front of me. Making sure everyone had a good look of it.

"This, is a laser RCW." I explained, calmly "Which stands for 'Rapid Capacitor Weapon'." With great care I began disassembling the weapon. "A power source, specifically an Electron Charge Pack, is placed into the center of this drum, which houses a series of capacitors." I disconnected the capacitor bank and held it up from them to see, Recycler still attached. "The capacitors rotate around the power source, and contact the diverter as they cycle through." I set the diverter down, and attended to the diverter and emitter housing, raising them enough to showcase them. "Each capacitor contacts the diverter, generating a laser bolt, before cycling out and being replaced with a charged capacitor. Eliminating the wait-time between shots." I then reassembled at an accelerated pace, making sure everything was put properly back into place. "It's as fragile and finicky as any other laser weapon… but, yes, it's a laser machine gun. Questions?"

Silence, for but a moment more.

Then Ruby gave a peal of delight. "No way, NO WAY!"

"I'm not lying, it's real." I said.

"That's… that's an actual laser gun?" Yang asked.

"Last I checked, yeah." I answered.

"Can I see it?" Ruby asked, looking like she was just barely keeping herself in her seat.

I flipped the weapon over and gently pushed it towards here. As it inched closer, her eyes grew brighter and sharper. As soon as it was within reach she reached out and laid hands on the receiver in a… tender way.

"Gentle." I stressed, allowing her to take the weapon.

Ruby pulled the weapon towards her, eyes greedily devouring the sight before her. "Oh yeah~"

"…" I kept whatever judgments I had to myself. This was probably therapeutic for her. I was most certainly not going to poke fun-

"You're drooling, Ruby." I said flatly.

"Huh-wha- no'm not." Ruby said, dazedly, not taking her eyes off the RCW as she wiped at her mouth.

"The design was made to mimic a popular model of smg from back before the war." I explained "That button at the back of the receiver will help you disassemble it. Remember: gentle."

"Gentle." Ruby whispered, entranced.

Following my instruction, Ruby began disassembling the weapon. Visibly trying hard not to force anything. There were some parts that required a little… persuasion, naturally, but she was good to her word. She took every part off as though they were made of porcelain rather than polymer and steel.

She respected the weapon as much as she was fascinated by it.

Frankly, I cherished the look on her face. Not every day you got to see that level of pure wonder in someone's eyes.

"*Ahem*" Nora said, making it sound like she was clearing her throat.

I let my gaze drift over to her, and found she was giving me just the biggest shit-eating grin.

"You owe me pancakes now, Mister." She chirped, not losing her smile

"Big whoop." I said, slightly annoyed.

"You've had something like this the entire time you've been here-" Weiss spoke, bewilderment alight in her expression "- and it's never occurred to you to use it?"

"Why would it?" I asked "If I don't have a preference for them and know they're a pain to use, why would I make more work for myself later?"

Weiss scrutinized me, but said nothing. Just letting her face scrunch-up in irritated fashion.

"You're just upset because you didn't realize it first." Nora chirped triumphantly.

Weiss looked at Nora with unmasked irritation and, frankly, embarrassment.

That it was Nora who said probably didn't help.

But, she also helped me discover that snowflakes could turn red. Which was at least a chuckle-worthy discovery.

"I have so many questions." Ruby said numbly, staring at the disassembled and gutted weapon in front of her.

"I'm sure you do." I said, looking down to my pip-boy and checking the time. My flareshells were probably getting close to cured now, meaning I needed to go finalize and test them…

"Hey, Tiny." I said.

"Hm?" Ruby mumbled groggily, looking towards me.

"You wanna shoot it?"

…

"-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-"

As Ruby screamed her head off, she held down the trigger of the RCW. Causing the gun to begin sweeping sideways from the drum's centrifugal force twisted the weapon slightly. Energy Weapons basically lacked recoil, but moving parts could still impart a different kind of motion.

She was able to easily manage it though, and kept the weapon more or less on target. Which in this case was a metallic silhouette of a Beowulf, if my shapes were right.

After burning about fifteen shots learning to handle it, Ruby got her grip on the RCW and kept it on target. Tracking the weapon back across the distant silhouette, before concentrating fire in the region of its head. A trained Laser Commander could keep concentrated fire over a couple hundred yards out. Ruby was firing much closer than that, with a weapon she was unfamiliar with, but still scoring decently. She made regular use of Crescent Rose as a rifle, so she had to have at least some practice with it. Being able to shoot something with basically no recoil was itself usually a treat with laser weaponry. One I could tell she was fully enjoying.

Because of the attached recycler, the RCW's sixty shot capacity jumped to seventy-five. Ruby had burned through the first fifteen already, but made the rest of them count. After adjusting for the unexpected motion of the drum, she kept herself on target as she burned through the rest of the ECP's charge.

Screaming the entire time.

As the lasers flew down range, they stayed concentrated in relatively the same location on the silhouette. The heat built up quickly, given the small area they were impacting. About the time she'd burned through two-thirds of the ammo, I noticed the steel was starting to glow a warm orange. By the time she'd finished, it was maybe a few degrees shy of molten. I could make out little motes of sparking carbon bursting off of the surface of the metal. Ringed by the rainbow of temper colors that appeared around heated steel. Had she managed to keep the entire cell on target, she probably would've turned the silhouette to slag.

With the cell drained, the capacitors whirred to a stop. Ruby stopped screaming, and stared aghast at the still glowing steel as it began to cool. She then held the RCW out in front of herself. Eyes roaming over it, sparkling like silvery jewels.

She then clasped the weapon to her chest. Another peal of utter ecstasy escaping her as she cuddle the weapon as though it were a teddy bear.

"I love it!" Ruby cried, giving me a brilliant smile.

"I can see that." I said, looking between her and her former target "I'd say you picked up on how to use it pretty quick too."

I spared a glance back to our teammates and JNPR. All of whom were either looking at the display of firepower completely dumbfounded or in some degree of bewilderment.

"What's the matter?" I asked "Blake steal your tongues or something?"

Blake responded to that by giving me a very catty look.

"… Oh my god you're actually an alien with a laser gun." Yang said, looking at me like I'd sprouted another head.

"What of it?" I asked "You've known that for a couple of weeks now."

"It's different seeing it." Blake stressed, squinting off into the distance at the nearly-slagged target.

"And you had trouble with me understanding the concept of Faunus." I groused.

The look of bewilderment on Yang's face morphed into one of playfulness. "I guess that just means you're out of this world then."

"I-" I started then paused, thinking "… I can't tell whether or not that's a pun."

Yang smirked at me, eyes twinkling. "I know."

"… Whatever." I said, turning back to Ruby. "You gonna keep fondling my gun, or can I have it back?"

Ruby blinked, seeming to realize she was doing her cuddling in public, at relaxed back to a low ready. A faint flush to her cheeks. "S-so how do you reload it?" She mustered.

"The charge-pack is at the front of the drum." I explained, motioning "Push it in, twist, and pull out."

Ruby followed my instructions, and removed the spent charge-pack. She stumbled for a moment on which way to twist it, but got it out all the same. She held the cell in her hand rotating it and examining it. I had yet to see any ammo like it on remnant. Given that it was literally just a type of battery though, it wasn't outside the realm of possibility it existed somewhere. Likely using Lightning Dust as a fuel source rather than lead-acid or nuclear material.

After marveling at the ECP for a moment, Ruby passed both it and the RCW back to me. I gave them a quick once over to ensure everything was still in proper order, then set the weapon down.

"I should have enough ammo, if anyone else wants to give it a whirl?"

"Ooh, me, me!" Nora squawked, bounding towards me.

I stiff armed her as she tried to reach for the weapon. "Slow your roll there, pancake." I said "Before I top this thing off, I need to make use of the range."

"Then why did you ask?" Nora squawked, stepping back in disappointment.

"Because I enjoy screwing with you, obviously." I said, reaching for my recently made flareshells. "I need to get an idea of what these things can do still."

"Oh… right." Nora chirped.

She, and everyone save Ruby proceeded to take several steps back. I looked to her in confusion. "You sure you want to be standing this close?"

"Why not?" She asked "You're going to be standing next to it, there's no way it'll be that bad, right?"

"… Ruby, did you forget what happened the last time I tried experimenting like this?" I asked.

"Nope." Ruby said, planting her feet.

"… Your funeral." I said, chuckling.

I drew my flare gun and snapped it open. I carefully slid one of my experimental 'gravity' shells into the chamber, then closed it. If this thing was going to catastrophically fail, it'd happen now. I cocked the hammer back, and took aim for the same target Ruby had been hammering on. The steel had almost cooled down, leaving behind a mottled gray.

"Going hot." I said "In three, two, one…"

I pulled the trigger, and the round went off.

A ball of faintly purple light leapt from the muzzle. Sailing through the air lazily, more slowly than my usual flare rounds. Likely a weak charge behind it. It was moving even slower than a plasma bolt. Curiously though, it didn't drop. It continued to sail forward on an almost straight trajectory. Unaffected by the simple things, like the wind or physics. Watching it sail, I chalked it up to the strange effects of Gravity Dust.

The faintly purple mote of light sailed through the air until it collided the distant silhouette. At which point, it stopped moving forward, but stayed in the air. Its purple glow began to deepen and darken.

With a creak of rent steel, the silhouette tore off of its moorings, crumpling around the ball of glowing light. The now steel-clad Dust projectile continued to push forward. Sailing listlessly to the concrete wall at the far end of the range. It collided with it yet again, and began to glow again. A second passed.

Then it exploded.

With the concussive *Thoom* of a mortar round, the flare round exploded in a cascade of purple light, sending a shockwave back our direction. It connected with myself and Ruby and, frankly, wasn't much worse than a stiff breeze. Though I felt it try to rip my jacket off, and it blew Ruby's hair back.

As the cascade of light faded however, I saw we got the lighter end of things.

Where the silhouette had been pinned against the wall, was now a hole in the rough shape of it. Leaving a clear view of the grounds on the other side. I could faintly see the silhouette lodged into a tree. Edge first.

"Whoa~" Ruby said.

"Um, yeah." I nodded, looking down at my flare gun "Whoa."

...

Things changed, after bringing Zwei into the dorm room. He was a new addition that we needed to take care of, and there were some things that came with it. Remembering to feed him, take him for walks, and making sure he wasn't just cooped up in the room all day. There were some growing pains, needed to teach him to stay off the furniture unless invited. Came back from Vale the first night to find him curled up on my pillow. Made sure he had a bath after that. Blake also didn't take too kindly to the addition of a new cute critter. Though the fact she adamantly refused to leave her bunk for the first night or two was mildly amusing. He taught me some things though, lingering around as he was.

For example: snowflakes melt.

"Who's the bestest boy?" Weiss asked, Zwei seated on her lap as she scratched him behind the ears. "You are, yes you are!"

Because Weiss literally turned into a puddle whenever he got involved.

We'd been in the midst of deciding what we were going to be doing for dinner that night. I'd had a couple of different ideas involving meat and potatoes, or some seared vegetables and sauce. My options had started to improve since I'd started getting fresh ingredients from my garden.

Nora, however, had other ideas.

"You owe me pancakes, buster." She said, stabbing a finger at me "Pay up."

"Keep your shorts on, I'm flipping them as fast as I can." I groused.

Despite the fact that she didn't get our wager in writing, or similar proof beyond eye-witnesses, Nora had been incessant. So, I caved, and had allowed that we'd be doing pancakes for dinner. However, in keeping with my no longer having to handle the responsibilities alone, I twisted Ren's arm a little. Had him make the batter for me, since I'd never had to make it from scratch myself. I took note of how he did it as he went, for future reference. A nice new recipe to have under my belt.

Nora, however, did not appreciate that this was the first time I was making them, nor my candor. "None of the sass, mister man." She squawked "You know the deal."

"No, actually I don't." I retorted "It's pretty ill-defined beyond my having to make you pancakes for some arbitrary reason."

"Rule number one-" Ren supplied "You made the bet and lost. You pay up, no whining."

"Whose benefit is that for, her's or yours?" I asked.

That got a chuckle out of Ren, and caused Nora's already ruddy cheeks to flush further.

"What kinda question is that!?" Nora asked "We both agreed on it!"

"Who proposed it, you or him?" I queried.

Nora didn't have a comeback for that one. Though her face turned a nice shade of pink.

"Be nice." Pyrrha hummed, holding out a plate already stacked high with pancakes "In the end, you made them anyway."

"Yeah, I know." I said, levering my spatula under the pancake "-This one makes, what, thirty total? That's a shortstack for everyone, plus a few extra. I'd say I've made good on my end of the bargain."

"You got any syrup for them?" Nora asked, giving me the stink eye.

"What kind of question is that?" I asked, pulling a sticky jar of sap from my box of tricks "Of course I have syrup, you really think I'd throw away ingredients?"

"Of course not, we've had your cooking." Weiss said snidely, ruffling Zwei's ears.

"Very funny." I said "Just for that, you don't get any pancakes."

"Hmph." Weiss turned her nose up at me. "Fine."

"…" I looked to the small dog currently sitting on her lap, and gave a sharp whistle "Zwei."

The small dog wrenched his head out of Weiss's hands, staring at me curiously.

I dangled one of the fresh made discs of pleasure in the air. "Pancakes, here boy."

Zwei yipped and jumped off of Weiss with a doggy grin on his muzzle. He trotted across the room to me and wriggled his furry butt up onto my cot. He stared expectantly at me, and I tore off a piece of the pancake and fed it to him. He panted happily and nuzzled up against my leg contentedly.

I looked back over to Weiss, who glared daggers at me through the pout on her face. A chuckle escaped me as I continued tearing off chunks of pancake and feeding them to the pup currently using my thigh as a pillow.

"You might want to not do that." Yang chuckled "Last time dad fed him anything but dog food, he made a giant mess."

"It's a single pancake." I said "He technically shouldn't be eating this anyway since dogs aren't supposed to have carbs. Makes them fat."

"It does?" Ruby asked, scrutinizing the dog resting on my lap "But he'd always try to steal the crusts from my toast."

"He's a dog Ruby, he'll beg for scraps on principle." I said, scratching the pup behind the ears "No wonder he's a little butterball. I just thought it was his breed."

Zwei tilted his head at me in a way that would've implied he took offense to what I said. I wasn't sure how smart he was. Wasteland hounds are a touch more intelligent than the average mutt. Either a result of breeding or the environment. I knew Rex at least was more capable than the average hound because of his mechanical components. Zwei was giving me vibes that he was more aware of his surroundings than he let on. However, to what degree, I had no clue of measuring.

All I really knew: he looked annoyed with me.

"Did you just call Zwei fat!?" Ruby squeaked "He's not fat! He's pleasantly plump."

"Well, maybe a little." I said "But, hey, bread makes you fat."

Zwei growled at that, but stopped when I threw another piece of pancake at him.

"Whaaat?" Nora asked, drowning her portion of dinner in saccharine ichor "No it doesn't!"

"Bread is calorie dense and has been a source of food for centuries because of it." I reminded her "It lacks nutrients, which matters in the long run. But, when your goal is just to make sure you've got the energy stores to survive until tomorrow, it does the job. And since the body tries to store whatever calories it can as fat for later…"

I could see the gears turning in Nora's head as she looked at me, then down to the sopping pancakes on her plate, then back to me. "… Bread makes you fat!?"

"Along with most other carb heavy dishes. Like pancakes." I said, smirking.

Nora looked down at her pancakes once more, her face horrified. As she looked back up to me however, it darkened significantly. "Why!?" She squawked "Why did you have to ruin this for me!?"

"Ruin?" I asked innocently "I haven't ruined anything. I've simply informed you on the nutritional nature of your favorite food. Knowing you, you'll just convert it straight to muscle the next time you're in the gym."

Nora's face narrowed into a glare, as her ruddy complexion deepened. "I'll remember this, bub."

"Whatever you say, pancake." I replied sweetly.

Likely lacking the wear withal to respond, Nora tucked into her sickly-sweet meal. Glowering at her mountain of carbs with all the fury of a thousand puppies. As dangerous as the sugar content of her dinner.

I continued scratching Zwei as everyone else started in on their food. Pudgy or not, he was a pretty sweet dog. Not better than Rex, or even Roxie for that matter, but he was a dog. Being sweet was almost his default. Unless you were dinner, in which case I'd help with the carving.

Not an excuse for me to keep feeding him people food, but he was liking the pancakes.

"I'm serious about the food thing." Yang warned "You'll be the one cleaning up after him if you're not careful."

"Fine, fine, I'll slow up." I said, shifting the food away from Zwei.

He whined pitifully and flashed me with puppy eyes.

"Nice try, boy." I said, ruffling his ears "Ruby's better at it than you, and she doesn't have a very good track record either."

"Did he just call me a dog?" Ruby muttered.

"No, but falling back on that eye trick when it so suits you doesn't weigh in your favor." I said.

Ruby's cheeks flushed, as she realized she should've been a bit quieter.

"To save you from any further embarrassment-" Weiss cut in "Can we move on to talking about something other than dinner? Every time we do, it ends with you telling us you did something strange to it."

"Like, say, mixing fresh blood in, to make them blood pancakes?" I offered "It's not uncommon to do that in the wasteland, make something called a Thick Red Paste and-"

"NOT ANOTHER WORD!" Nora squawked.

Okay- okay, easy." I said, placating "I was only joking, we don't make pancakes out of them… Or at all, for that matter. We've got most of the ingredients, come to think of it, but the only places that actually serves them is this hotel on the Strip called Vault 21. But they use corn flour instead of wheat."

Ren rubbed his chin. "I'll have to try that sometime."

"Let me know how they turn out, I've never actually had them." I said.

"Ahem." Weiss intoned, feigning it as a cough into her sleeve.

"Yeah, yeah, we're moving away from it." I said "Though, side note, I might actually try making blood-pancakes now. So thanks for the idea."

"Wonderful." Weiss groaned.

"So, what's tonight's topic of choice?" I asked "Any burning questions or thoughts that we can use to direct this thing?"

"Actually, since you happened to bring it up." Weiss said "I do have a few questions I would like answered, assuming there's no problem with that?"

"You know the rules." I said "As long as they are within reason, speak your mind."

Weiss nodded "This hotel you mentioned, Vault 21, it wouldn't happen to be one of the 'Vaults' that you've mentioned previously, would it? The underground bunkers built before the war."

"That it would, actually." I answered "Vault 21 was built on the New Vegas strip, in the heart of the city. Or, rather, its most often patronized portion."

"Which is most likely why it was there then." Weiss surmised "It would make sense that they'd put a bomb shelter in the city's heart."

"That…" I put a hand on my and pondered it for a moment. "… Actually, I'm not entirely sure why Vault 21 is where it is. From everything I understand, the Vault program was a government run project, and handled by Vault-Tec."

"Vault-Tec?" Weiss asked

"The company that built the Vaults and operated them for the Government?" I offered.

Weiss gave me a look of confusion. She seemed to be trying to place the name, but was turning up nothing.

"… Huh, thought I'd have mentioned them by now. Funny." I said.

"Is it safe to assume they just built all the Vaults and leave it at that?" Pyrrha asked.

"Yes and no." I said "On the one hand, they did build the Vaults. However, they were also responsible for maintaining them and ensuring they continued to function. At least until the U.S. Government signaled an 'all clear' for people to start coming back above ground."

"Which never happened." Yang chimed.

"Which never happened, yes." I parroted, turning back to Weiss "Just kinda odd I never mentioned them until now, considering they were instrumental for a lot of things."

Weiss gave me a satisfied smirk. "Well then, I believe we've found tonight's topic."

I nodded "Suppose we have then… Well, since we're on it, we'll start with Vault-Tec."

Nora groaned audibly.

"Oy, less sass, more syrup." I countered "You got your dinner, I don't want to hear it."

Nora blew me a raspberry, before cramming saccharine-soaked bread into her gob.

I looked at her a moment longer before continuing. "So, Vault-Tec. I personally don't know too much about them. Couldn't give you specifics, like what year they were founded, or who ran it, but I can give the overview. They were tasked with Vault construction and oversight. With some management and direction from the Government, naturally."

"So that means they held a monopoly on it." Blake noted "Kind of like-"

"Kind of like the SDC and its myriad contracts with Atlas, yes." I finished for her "We can use that analogy a dozen times, and it would not change how accurate it is, barring certain details."

Weiss turned up her nose. "If you're good at something, you tend to get chosen for it." She huffed.

"Actually, government contracts tend to get picked because of availability and who can get it done the cheapest." I told her "Either you'd get chosen because you are the only one offering, or because you undercut the competition enough."

"…" Weiss flushed slightly.

"In either case, Vault-Tec probably fit somewhere snugly between the two." I continued "There's not much mention of other large companies producing fallout shelters, but there may have been. Vault-Tec just wound up taking the lead."

"Well, what was so special about them?" Weiss asked, soldiering on "If the whole point of a Vault is just to be a bomb shelter, what was the point of hiring outside business to handle it. In theory, as long as they were capable of surviving the blasts, that should've been enough, correct?"

"Not quite." I answered "Remember, the bombs they were preparing for were nuclear. You're all familiar with dust explosions, but nuclear blasts are their own beast. We had a whole conversation about it."

"I remember." Weiss answered "They would leave behind material that was extremely poisonous to anything that came in contact with it."

"Not inherently poison, but close enough." I answered "But remember: it was poison that would take hundreds of years to drop to safe levels. It would also linger in the air as particulate, or seep into the ground and affect the water. Poisoning plant and, subsequently, animal life. Building a simple blast shelter isn't hard, you just need the proper materials and construction. Building a Fallout shelter, specifically a Vault, is a lot more complicated. You need to account for food, water, air quality, long term structural integrity and a host of other things. Not to mention you'd be doing so for hundreds of people over the course of a century or more. Not something you could just slap together and hope for the best. It certainly didn't help that the Government, or rather the Enclave, had some ulterior motives."

"Because of course they did." Weiss said "Is there anything from the 'Old World' that didn't have some 'super-secret and super-sinister' ulterior motive?"

I resisted the urge to laugh in her face. Instead continuing to scratch Zwei's head, and slowly working my way down his back. "If there was, they were limited in number for the purpose of not screwing over the entire human race."

"Which itself, implies that they were doing pretty horrific things." Ren said, watching me intently

"You don't even know the half of it." I said "Neither do I, and frankly, I'm glad I don't. I sleep better that way."

"I think you did actually talk about the Vaults having experiments." Ruby said, thinking "But I don't think you ever said what they were."

"Wouldn't be surprised if I glanced over it." I agreed "They're a pretty wicked can of worms at the best of times. But I suppose now's going to be the time where we open them up. Consider this the only warning you'll be getting about them; they get pretty bad."

"Compared to everything else you've told us?" Weiss asked.

"In some cases, yes." I said "Vault-Tec and the Enclave ran most of these experiments with plenty of sadism in mind. I can say that a majority of them typically failed. The aftermath isn't always well documented, but the ones that are… well, it can test your faith in what you think of people. Let's leave it at that."

Weiss, and most everyone else in the room began to look uneasy. I was making it clear that what we were about to talk about wasn't light hearted. I'd never done that with anything else we'd covered up to that point. It was important they understand the severity of it.

Weiss schooled her expression, and nodded, steeling herself.

"What were some of them?" She asked.

"… By and large? Social experiments." I said "Trapping hundreds of people in tight, underground spaces is a good way to test human condition and nature, when people are stressed and volatile. Made it more likely they'd get genuine reactions. Most of them… ended poorly."

I continued to pet Zwei, as some of the memories about the Vaults came back to me. Running through those rusted corridors and breathing the mildewed air. Without thinking, I felt my fist clench over Zwei's back. The little pup looked up at me, curious. I exhaled and continued petting him.

"There were over a hundred Vaults across the United States." I said "Of them, only a handful were 'control' Vaults. Meant to be shelters and nothing else. I want to say the actual number was something in the ballpark of about fifteen and twenty. Most of the information has been disseminated by word of mouth and found documents. Can be hard to say sometimes. But the number of Vaults that were made available to the public only numbering around one hundred and twenty. Which means less than a sixth of them were ever even intended to keep the people in them safe. Assuming that something didn't screw that up. Mismanagement and error have a way of eschewing concepts such as 'safety'."

"A one in six chance." Weiss said, more to herself than anyone else.

"None of the Vaults were made equal either." I continued "Almost all of them were guaranteed to house about a hundred people at minimum. But most of them either never made capacity, or went over them for reasons both unintentional and not. No one expected the war. That as many people made it into the Vaults when they did is a surprise."

"And even then, they were almost guaranteed to be part of something far worse." Weiss said, numbly.

"Yeah…" I said "… Not all of the experiments were bad, or rather, didn't turn sour. Vault 21, the Vault built into the New Vegas Strip, was one of the rare Vault experiment success stories. They kept their experiment running for the entire run of the Vault's use as a shelter, almost two hundred years. It only stopped because House kicked them out so he could start 'revitalizing' New Vegas and the Strip. Having the Vault continuing to function as it was threw a wrench in his plans, apparently."

"What was their experiment?" Weiss asked "To have survived, it couldn't have been one of the more dangerous experiments."

"Actually, I'd say their experiments was one of the ones most people would've expected to fail." I answered "The Vault had basically no governing authority to make decisions. The vault dwellers were basically left to govern themselves. Barring one enforced stipulation: All disputes needed to be settled through gambling."

Weiss's brow furrowed "Gambling?"

"I'm pretty sure it was chosen because of the irony of the Vault's location." I added "But that was the experiment: See how people react when their lives are basically ruled by fate and luck. Doesn't matter how important the issue was, if it came time to decide and there was disagreement, break out the cards. You'd let things be settled by the hands of fate."

"And barring that, wind up chip outta luck." Yang said snidely.

"Har-de-har, never heard that one before." I said "But, by all accounts you'd think having that be the way things were settled would end in people saying 'screw it' and making their own choices. Nope, quite the opposite. By all accounts, people respected the rule, and the outcomes of it. Being happy about it was a different matter, but considering they succeeded where most failed, it counts for a lot."

"A Vault run by gambling addicts, that didn't devolve into anarchy." Blake mused "Go figure."

"Sadly though, they still wound up getting dealt a bad hand in the end." I continued "Mr. House couldn't force them to leave the Vault until they opened the door, so he had to make them offers instead. The Vault became divided between staying and leaving and, falling back on tradition, they settled with cards. Blackjack, if my information's right. The side who wanted to sell-out to House won, and most of the inhabitants were forced out into the Wasteland. Only a handful got to stick around after pleading with House, and were permitted to turn their old home into a hotel. A tourist trap in a city full of them. Most of the Vault wasn't even left intact, House filled its lower levels with concrete to make sure it stayed a hotel. Rather than go back to how it used to be."

"Wow." Yang said, tone sincere "That's cold."

"That's what happens when you let something else decide your fate for you, I guess." I said "End of the day, you don't get a say where you'll end up. You just get to deal with it… Moving on." I shifted slightly and dragged Zwei the rest of the way onto my lap. He seemed pretty contented where he was, but I enjoyed the emotional support he was providing. He resettled himself, and I focused my thoughts. "Outside of Vault 21, there were a few other Vaults sprinkled throughout the Mojave. Vaults 3, 11, 19, 22, and 34."

"Could they not keep any of them numerical order?" Weiss asked, looking confused "Wouldn't it make more sense to number them based on region?"

"Fuck if I know." I said "I'm not the one who was in charge of it. I think they numbered them in order of completion, but really it just shows disorganized they were on that front if Vault 3 is in New Vegas while Vault 1 is somewhere on the coast a couple hundred miles away… Speaking of Vault 3, it was also one of the more benign Vaults, for a time. Given that it was a control Vault, set a couple miles away from the Strip. Unfortunately, unlike Vault 21, Vault 3 didn't have much luck going for them."

"Did Mr. House come to kick them out too?" Blake asked, perhaps trying to be smarmy.

"They'd have been so lucky." I answered "No, from what I gather, some of the Vault's systems began failing, and forced them to open up to the outside world. With next to no knowledge of the local politics and dangers of the wasteland, they were an easy target. After a few weeks of trying to make trade, they were attacked by a group known as the Fiends. Raiders with a penchant for chems. They stormed the place and killed the Vault Dwellers to a man. Set up shop in there not long afterwards."

Whatever mirth Blake had tried to foster melted away.

"With a location secured, the Fiends used Vault 3 as a stronghold to stage attacks on the surrounding area. No one was crazy enough to dive headlong into a cazador's nest and hope they came out the other side. The Fiends were easily some of the worst humans you'd find in the wasteland too. Most of them suffered from mental conditions and psychosis, made worse by their addictions. They were ultra-violent, cannibalistic slavers and opportunists with a penchant for rape and torture…" I took a moment, and continued rubbing Zwei's head. "If you ever need an idea of what the worst of humanity looks like, you could do worse than the Fiends, but it'd be a hard task."

An uneasy air hung in the room. I'd warned them that things weren't going to be pretty, world wasn't always a fair place. Animals like the Fiends only made it less so.

I drummed my fingers over Zwei's back, thinking. "… They're not so much of a problem anymore, at least. Bounty hunters and NCR contractors managed to take out their leadership over the course of a few months. The rest of them thinned out over time. Lack of coordination meant their own tendencies would destroy them. I've had more than my fair share of run-ins with them."

"… How could people do something like that?" Ruby asked, visibly troubled.

"Honestly, Ruby, that's a riddle for the ages." I answered "They were already unstable, and the chems definitely didn't help… but to do the things they did, for as long as they did… I don't know. Though there's some rumors that they themselves were the product of a completely different Vault experiment. One not even that far away from Vault 3."

"You're kidding." Weiss said, looking particularly disturbed by this point.

"I might be, honestly." I said "This one's more theory than fact. Just people making educated guesses with the evidence we have on hand. A few miles to the south-southwest, was Vault 19. Much like 21, 19 was an experiment Vault. Unfortunately, their experiment was more divisive. Literally. The Vault's occupants were split into two factions, a Red side and a Blue side. The two sides were kept largely alienated from each other, with interaction being next to nonexistent. The purpose of the experiment, was to test methods of inducing paranoia through non-chemical and non-violent means. Evidence showed they succeeded. Both sides rapidly developed psychosis and aggression towards the other, and grew increasingly unstable. The standing theory is that the Fiends are the result of the Vault's experiment. No one knows what happened to the Vault dwellers of 19, they all seemed to have vanished. However, notes of the Vault medical staff administering copious amounts of chems to the dwellers lines up at least somewhat with the Fiends' own dependency. Mental illness isn't inherently hereditary, but can be found to run in families. A couple hundred years in an environment like 19's would allow for it to become more concentrated and exacerbated."

"You're saying that they made an experiment out of turning people crazy?" Ruby asked, visibly horrified "That's… That's just…"

"I know." I intoned "They wanted to study it, and no one was going to stop them. Ultimately, if there is any truth to the Vault 19 theory, the rest of us are stuck paying for it."

"Guess you weren't kidding about these places being really screwed up." Yang said.

"I haven't finished yet, they get worse." I said.

"Are you kidding!?"Jaune hissed.

"No." I intoned, readjusting my tactical relief dog. "If it's too much, we can drop the topic. Things aren't going to be getting any better from here. Frankly, ignorance is bliss."

"True, but we wouldn't ask if we didn't want to know." Weiss answered, looking to Ruby with a steely expression.

Ruby returned the gaze with a soft one of her own, before she took a breath. When she next looked to me, I could see determination in her eyes. "What else did they do?"

"… There're two more Vaults in the Mojave meant for housing people." I answered "Vault 22 and 11. Vault 22 was located to the west of Vegas, in the mountains. Their experiment was one the vault residents were actually made aware of and actively recruited for. The experiment was geared towards solving food shortages through botanical engineering. The whole Vault was intended to function as a 'Green Vault'. Sustaining itself off of the crops they were able to propagate. They were actually extremely successful. In the present, Vault 22 is overgrown with vegetation and plantlife. An ocean of green in the otherwise barren desert of the Mojave."

"But if it's overgrown, that means that something still went wrong." Weiss surmised "Otherwise they'd have maintained it, correct?"

"Correct." I agreed "Unfortunately, despite the Vault's more altruistic goal, things didn't pan out. Despite being fairly successful with their food production, pest control was an issue. Where there's food, the rats and roaches have a tendency to follow. To combat them, the Vault's researchers turned to a contribution from an outside contractor: Beauveria Mordicana. A species of Fungi who's spore were highly poisonous in the appropriate concentrations."

"They tried to handle their rat problem with poisonous mushrooms?" Weiss asked, confused "Why didn't they just put down, I don't know, rat poison?"

"I don't know, that would've been the sensible thing." I agreed "Maybe they did at first but ran out. Besides which, it was more than rats they had to worry about. The spores were kept largely contained at first, limited to the various greenhouses they grew their crops in. It was considered a success, initially. Unfortunately, trying to keep something airborne, such as spores, contained is easier said than done. The spores weren't picky about who they poisoned either, they were their own life form, after all. The infantile stages of one at that. Contamination was eventually broken and, with the hermetically sealed Vaults effectively being their own Microbiome, the spores took root rapidly."

"So, the entire Vault was killed by poisonous mushrooms?" Ren asked "Or have you just not gotten to the part where something worse happened."

"What, because having hundreds of people die because of mold and-or mushroom spores is somehow good and mundane?" I asked.

Ren fixed me with a dry look.

"… Yeah, it got worse." I admitted, petting Zwei again "Although initially people apparently were getting sick without knowing the cause, once they started dying they started piecing it together. Because the spores didn't just kill the person they infected. They would properly mature once a host was infected, and they would begin slowly seizing control of the host's nervous system post-mortem. The revived spore-carriers would then more actively and aggressively begin eliminating threats to its ecosystem. As well as providing food and future seedbeds for its spores."

My teammates and JNPR digested that statement, eschewing the meal in front of them.

"… They turned into mushroom zombies?" Nora asked, somewhere between confused and horrified.

"Essentially." I nodded "From my understanding, as long as there was no outside stimuli, the spore carrier would remain inactive. They'd settle someplace where the fungus would grow best and vegetate there, for a term. As soon as new life made itself known, they'd attack. Even if they died, the fungus would still have them as a food source… The Vault fell quickly, from my understanding. Because of the systems deteriorating like they did, the environment became increasingly beneficial to the spores. With most of the Vault already having breathed them in and become inoculated, it was like dominos. The more people died, the faster they fell. A group of dwellers managed to escape the Vault, estimates say about a hundred total. But in a Vault meant to house at minimum double that, they were a scant few. No one's sure what happened to them either, they'd have to have abandoned the Vault early into its lifecycle. Maybe a year after the bombs fell, at the most. Trading the spore filled air for the radiation outside. The hundreds lost in the Vault, men, women, and children, turned into mindless abominations. Ghost stories abound of people visiting the Vault, and never coming back. Not hard to imagine why, in a place like that."

My teammates and JNPR paused a moment, then slowly all began to set their food aside. I was getting the impression I'd gone and killed their appetites as much as the mood.

Weiss, having set her food aside, steepled her fingers together, and seemed to begin contemplating. "… I- I don't know if I want to hear anymore."

"I don't blame you." I answered, as empathetically as I could "The Vaults, when found in the Wasteland are largely viewed as cautionary tales and great tragedies. There obviously exist the ones that didn't end poorly, but they are few and far between when compared to the ones that did… Honestly, the last one, Vault 11, is by far one of the most inhumane and depressing. Given a lot of what happens in the wasteland, I think that says something."

"How could it possibly be any worse that what we've already heard?" Weiss asked "Do you have any idea how insane what you've told us sounds? Experiments to drive people crazy, plants that turn people into zombies, using gambling to run a society- it's crazy."

"Yeah. It's also painfully real." I told her, running a hand under Zwei's muzzle and chin "And frankly, the last of them is probably the most real out of all of them. I don't blame you, any of you, for not wanting to hear it."

"What if I did want to hear it though?" Ruby asked, looking less certain than she sounded.

"Then I'd tell you, if you were sure you'd be able to handle it." I said "But, being completely honest, Ruby, you don't look like you could right now."

Ruby looked at me pointedly, but didn't answer. She'd surprised me in the past, she could be mature and tough when she wanted to be. But I got the impression she didn't want to be for this. We'd covered dark stuff in the past. But most it didn't concern talking about how large swathes of people died because of others' cruel decision making.

Considering what happened in Vault 11, we'd be hitting that nail square on the head.

"Why don't we try focusing on something else?" I offered "The Mojave's full of plenty of other things, not all of its doom and gloom… mostly."

"Yeah… Hey, Six?" Ruby asked.

I looked to her. Taking not of the steely tone of her silver eyes.

"You don't have to tell us what happened… but what was the experiment?" Ruby asked, clearly resolved.

"… I'll put it to you as a question." I said, shifting towards her fully "You're guaranteed safety from a world that would kill you for being in it, but in exchange, once a year, someone has to die for it. No sacrifice, you all die. What do you do?"

Ruby pursed her lips, mulling over the question. I could see everyone else shifting uncomfortably. Either not sure what their answers would be, or perhaps knowing them and not happy with the choice. Ruby however, after a few moments, responded. "Do I have a year to think about it?" She asked, smirking slightly.

I pondered the question myself for a moment. I had to imagine the experiment had been run like that, from what I'd found. That the dwellers weren't informed of the choice until it was almost upon them however, would've been more likely. "… For the purposes of keeping it in line with what happened, no, at most you'd probably have had a month to figure it out."

Ruby nodded. "Well, I guess that's most of a year to relax, then a month to try and find a way to save everyone."

"…" I shook my head "It's not that simple Ruby, you can say that now, but in the heat of the moment, do you think you'd be able to say the same thing?"

"… Probably." Ruby answered "I mean, why would I want someone else to die just so I can stay safe? If I've known them for a year, wouldn't we be friends, even family by then?" She asked, tapping her fork against her plate "Why would I do that?"

"…" I didn't trust myself to say anything for a moment. Her words were those of someone who'd never had to make a decision like that. When push comes to shove, people do terrible things to protect the ones they care about.

Up to and including putting everything and everyone else in danger.

But that had been the purpose of the test. To determine how far people would go to protect the people they care about.

The Dwellers of Vault 11 had failed. Miserably. They allowed their fear to twist them, turn them against each other so horrifically, the experiment had completely gone off the rails.

Because no one had to die.

They'd only needed to risk it once. Show that, when the chips were down, there's enough love between you and your fellows to face whatever comes next together.

From the look in Ruby's eyes, I wanted to believe she hadn't made the choice lightly. She looked like she'd made her choice, and meant every word of it. Maybe she had some idea of what that meant. The kinds of hardships it would bring. Maybe she didn't.

But as I sat there, looking at her, I couldn't help but feel my eyes sting a little, Warmth swell in my chest.

"… Congratulations, citizen of Vault 11." I said, finally "You have made the decision not to sacrifice one of your own. You can walk with your head held high knowing that your commitment to human life is a shining example to us all."

My teammates and JNPR looked at me in confusion, not yet grasping what I was telling them.

"What's more, to make that feeling of pride even sweeter, we have some exciting news." I continued, biting back a bitter taste in my mouth "Despite what you were lead to believe, the population of Vault 11 is not going to be exterminated for its disobedience. Instead, the mechanism to open the main vault door has now been enabled. You may come and go at your leisure."

My eyes fixed on Ruby once more. The resolve hadn't left her eyes, but there was confusion mingled with it now.

"Congratulations, Ruby." I said "I don't need to tell you what happened in Vault 11. You're one of now seven people to have ever heard that message. One of two that's still alive."

The looks of abject horror on everyone's faces said more than any words could.

The confusion in Ruby's eyes vanished. For a moment, there was horror. Then it was gone just as quick.

Sorrow found its way there instead. It took root and refused to move.

"Did… did they not even try?" Ruby asked.

"No." I answered "I only know about any of this because I went into that Vault myself. Four of the five other people to ever hear that message were laying in the entrance. Along with a suicide note. I don't know where number five went. But given that numbers one through four were little more than skeletons when I found them, I imagine they're long dead too."

"I… I don't even know what to say." Ruby said.

Before I had a chance to speak, Zwei hopped off my lap and trotted over to Ruby. His stumpy tail fanned back and forth as he brushed up against one of his upset owner.

The sorrow ebbed slightly from Ruby's face as she bent over and picked the pup up. She began cuddling him without a moment's hesitation.

"… There's nothing to say Ruby." I said "End of the day, you know what you believe you would do. The damage is done, and I hope none of you ever find yourself in a situation like Vault 11." I looked around to everyone, they were listening quite intently. "… But take heart, Ruby. The point of the test was to see how hard people will hold onto their morality in the face of destruction. In the end, you chose right, and didn't bat an eye in doing so."

Ruby gave me a sad smile as Zwei's head nestled under hers.

Everyone remained silent as they sat on what I'd explained to them. I don't know what their choices were, and frankly, I didn't want to. I knew by my own measure, I'd probably have screwed up the Vault's exam too. When lives are on the line, the many outweigh the few. When tensions are high and the people you care about are in danger, you risk making rash decisions. Not because you want to, but because you're human. Keeping a calm mind in those circumstances is one of the hardest things you can learn to do. It's something that can never be mastered either.

Ironic, that it was one of those decisions that ultimately broke the cycle of sacrifice and destroyed the Vault. If only they'd done it sooner.

Frankly, I had to wonder, if Vault-Tec had survived, what would they have thought about the result? They'd programmed the test to not even require a single sacrifice. They were bastards for having created the test in the first place. But I don't know if even they could've predicted the outcome.

Then again, these were the same bastards who willfully induced paranoia and mistrust in a Vault within the same area. To the point they may have potentially become one of the most outwardly violent and sadistic factions in the Mojave. Odds were also good they knew what would happen, but did it anyway for kicks.

"… While a lot of the experiments were overtly and mindlessly sadistic, that didn't guarantee failure." I said after giving everyone a little time to their own thoughts. "In more than a few cases, it was unexpected events that tended to end things poorly. Vault 21 played the hand it was dealt, and only failed because of poor decision making. Vault 3 was only forced to open itself to the Wasteland because of irreparable maintenance issues. They only died because one of the intentionally screwed-up experiments came knocking before they knew better. The scientists of Vault 22 shouldn't have used spores for pest control, but how do you predict plant zombies? Obviously, this wasn't always the case, more often than not, I'm sure the actual experiment was what got everyone killed. But that doesn't change that, sometimes, things took an unexpected turn. Failing to adapt appropriately or in time meant it ending in catastrophe."

"That doesn't change how barbaric it is." Weiss said, still visibly disturbed "The people of the Vault shouldn't have been so willing to go along with it, but the experiment should've never required someone to die either. It's just so- so…"

"I know." I nodded

"I think the worst part is actually how complacent they must've become." Blake said "Even if they sacrificed one person because they panicked, why didn't they try to stop the tests? They had a whole year to try and find a solution to stop anyone else from dying."

I shook my head. "I wish I could tell you. Because there is no excusing their inaction on that front."

Especially because I knew what they'd elected to do instead. That none of them even made a token effort to try and stop the sacrificial cycle was perhaps the biggest black mark against the Vault.

If there was one assumption I could make about Blake, and there were several, it was that she was more hot blooded than she showed. Inaction didn't jive with her, probably a trait born from growing up around the White Fang.

It was pretty clear that the story of Vault 11 didn't sit well with her either. She didn't even know the full story.

"… How about we move away from the Vaults now?" I asked "I've basically covered all of them, and it's a rough topic to keep talking about. Especially coming to terms with the aftermath."

"That's probably a good idea." Yang said, picking at her pancakes "Things got sad really quick."

"Welcome to the Wasteland." I said wearily.

"But we're not done talking about the Vaults yet." Nora chirped "There's still one left."

"What?" I asked "No there's-"

"Vault 34." Nora chirped again "You listed it."

"…Oh." I said, silently berating myself. "… Yeah, they're on the list too, but I'd rather we didn't stay on this subject. It's clear you're all uncomfortable with it now, and it's probably better to move along."

Notwithstanding that I had my own reasons for avoiding Vault 34. Their experiment wasn't as horrific as the other Vaults. But the results, everything associated with it, plus my own experiences and choices with the place made it something I didn't enjoy talking or thinking about. Not that I had much control over the latter, sometimes.

'It was supposed to be a simple job.'

Nora squinted at me, but made no further noises or arguments. Instead, much like Yang, she began picking at her pancakes again. I needed to be more careful with her, she'd been showing that she could be much more observant than she let on. Last thing I needed was to start letting slip the wrong details and letting her figure out something important.

"… Why don't we try and focus on a more neutral topic now, or something." I offered "A palate cleanser of sorts. Maybe one of you can take a turn talking about something I don't know."

"Like?" Blake asked.

"I don't know, surprise me." I answered "There's all kinds of crazy stuff in the Wasteland and Mojave that I haven't told you yet. The probably holds true for here, because I doubt Oobleck is going to cover everything, or in enough detail during class."

Not for lack of trying, the guy spat words like a minigun spews lead. The only reason he wouldn't talk about something would probably be because he didn't know enough about it.

Blake looked down at her pancakes for a moment, and I honestly didn't expect her to answer. Frankly, I was used to either leading the discussion or having someone randomly take charge.

But, in a rare showing of me getting what I asked for, Blake narrowed her tired eyes and looked back to me. "Do you want me to tell you more about the White Fang?"

That got everyone else's attention right quick.

Especially because, as I was fairly certain, we'd neglected to mention that little factoid to JNPR.

The four members of said team looked at Blake, surprised and curious.

"You were in the White Fang?" Jaune asked.

Blake's narrowed; tired gaze drifted over to Jaune pointedly. "Yes, I was."

"… Ok, cool." Jaune said, choosing to drop the topic almost immediately after picking it up.

"Well, that explains a lot." Nora chirped "I thought you were just hiding your ears so people wouldn't judge you."

"I was." Blake answered.

"If you ever want a better disguise, try a face mask." I said, tapping my own "They're a lot better at… wait, shit. The White Fang already wear them."

"Yeah." Blake said, looking at me pointedly "Y'know, maybe offering wasn't such a good idea."

"You know I didn't mean it like that." I said "There are plenty of people out there who wear masks besides the White Fang. That in this case the implications were less than ideal doesn't change that."

"I actually wouldn't mind hearing about the White Fang from you." Pyrrha added "Your perspective is one that would be most interesting to hear."

"The irony of that statement is palpable." I said "But I agree with Pyrrha. I spend enough time running around punching them. Hearing what it was actually like being a part of them would be interesting."

Blake continued to look pointedly at me for a moment, before nodding. "Ok… so, where do I start?"

"Origins would be a good place." I explained "I've got a contemporary understanding thanks to Oobleck, but what's the White Fang's history? I know you guys were created after the revolution for Faunus Rights, but I have to imagine there was a little more to it than that."

Blake nodded "There's really not much to get around it: The White Fang's original leadership were the leaders from the revolution. My father said it had been the goal in the end, because fighting was ultimately never going to solve everything. We needed to be able to be peaceful, otherwise we'd always be seen as violent criminals."

'Boy howdy did that backfire.'

"Everything that could be shifted towards those ends, was." Blake said "I was born into the White Fang. I can still remember when I was a kid, my dad would be spending days in his office, working to help the White Fang accomplish their goals peacefully. He'd go to meetings, talk with Elders, help organize boycotts and rallies where he needed to. He and my mom did everything they could to help reach more peaceful goals. They would even go on supply runs when needed. I even have memories of being at rallies when I was just kit- little girl."

"All around, peaceful and well-meaning goals." I said "So what changed?"

"Nothing, that was the problem." Blake said blandly "Despite everyone's best efforts, things just kept getting worse. Even with Menagerie, and a great increase in civil rights, things were moving too slowly. They still are. People would still attack us, make our lives harder despite everything. Members of the revolution's leadership, now the White Fang's leadership, were tired of waiting for things to change. I don't really know for sure what set things off, but about five years ago, they decided they'd had enough. My father had come back from a supply run that'd apparently been the last straw for a lot of people."

I nodded "Five years. That puts things roughly in line with when the White Fang first started becoming less peaceful, if Oobleck is right."

"That was when leadership began to shift." Blake explained "The original leader of the White Fang stepped down, and allowed one of his Lieutenants to take command. He said he'd had enough fighting for one life, and decided to step away. Currently, he's the Chieftain of Menagerie. Where the White Fang still have a major presence, but have stayed true to their original goals."

"Which, I'm assuming is where you come in." I said "You used to run with them, but you're a bit young to have run with the Original group and still be a teenager."

Blake huffed "Like I said, I was born into it. I grew up around everyone and fell into it easily… When people decided they'd had enough, I wanted to go with them. My mom and dad stopped me at first, but eventually, I just decided to stop asking for permission."

"Sounds like you took things a little closer to heart than they thought you would." I said.

"… Yeah." Blake said "I honestly don't know what they'd think if they saw me now."

"They'd probably be proud of you." Yang said, putting a hand on Blake's shoulder "Because that's not who you want to be anymore."

Blake looked sadly to her partner "But that doesn't change the things I did."

"And?" I asked "Newsflash, kitten, you're not the only person in this room who's done some horrible shit."

Blake looked at me pointedly, and perhaps just a little hurt. "It's not a contest."

"Did I say it was?" I asked "I've been in your shoes. You can't take back the shit you did, only do different in the future. That's what you're doing, and even if your parents were upset by the choice you made, what about this one? The one where you chose to try and undo the damage you caused?"

Blake didn't answer that.

"Not to get on a lecture, but Yang's right. If you can't take it from her then take it from me." I said "If your parents are good, then they love you, and would be proud that you are doing the right thing. Even if you stumbled a little on the way."

Blake's expression softened slightly, but didn't change. She looked tired in a way I knew and felt all too well. There were some things that couldn't be fixed with one simple talk. Blake's issues with the White Fang were long standing. Until we got somewhere with the investigation, I doubted she'd seem any less broody.

But she soldiered on.

"After that, there's really not much more to say." Blake said "I started helping however I could. Spying, stealing, and fighting all in the name of what I'd believed at the time to be equality… but the longer it went on, the more I saw what it was becoming. Spite. People were joining not to try and make things better, but so they could get revenge against the people who'd wronged us. Like the SDC."

Weiss didn't look very offended by the statement, the SDC's poor relationship with Faunus was well-trod ground.

"A lot of members, before I left, still saw it as us forcing people to treat us with equality." Blake said "But for others, it just became an excuse to hurt people, show we were better than them… My choice became clear after that."

"Understandable." I said "You started fighting for the cause you believed in, and the one you thought they believed it. When it became apparent to that wasn't the case, you made your own way. I can empathize."

Blake nodded, falling silent. As I mulled over what Blake had told me. Honestly, I could understand it, somewhat. The White Fang had lost its way, but it was hard to blame them. They'd fought a war over equal treatment, and tried for half a decade after that to reach peaceful ends. When words failed, violence followed.

It reminded me of Vegas in a lot of ways. Not for the discriminatory aspects, but the sociopolitical ones. The NCR had made inroads to take control of the region, but sat around with its thumbs up its ass. Ignoring the suffering of anyone who wouldn't wave the flag at worst, and in some cases being the cause of it.

Getting people on my side for the second battle at the Dam hadn't been hard, just needed some legwork.

Frankly, it made me feel uneasy. If I was to make the comparison between Vegas and the White Fang, was I setting everyone up for more trouble down the line? Leading Vegas wasn't easy, paperwork aside. I get on well enough with people, when they're not pissing me off, but I freely acknowledge that I'm a terrible diplomat. If I'd had to do what Blake said her father did, I'd…

"… You said your parents were members of the old-guard, right?" I asked.

Blake looked at me curiously. "Yeah, they fought during the revolution."

"In what capacity?" I asked.

"…" Blake's gaze sharpened "I'm not sure, I've never really asked."

"Curious." I said "You never asked your parents how they helped out with the founding of a new territory? That seems like something a lot of people would take pride in."

Everyone, sans Blake, was beginning to look at me with interest. They all knew I was driving at something, but couldn't tell what.

"Well, maybe we can puzzle it out." I said "Let's see… You said your dad did a lot of seemingly mundane, but all-around important things." I said, ticking off my fingers as I went. "He'd step out with the troops on supply runs, so he's familiar with soldiery. That a large amount of time, however, would be spent in an office also implies that his role could also involve a degree of clerical work. Further compounded, by the fact that he and your mother would be tasked with organizing protest events. Such as the boycotts and rallies, and probably bake sales or something too, those always get someone's attention."

That last one earned a few snickers from everyone sans, again, Blake. Though the flush on her cheeks was amusing.

"However, you wouldn't trust a clerical worker to play Meet-and-greet with community leadership." I said "In my experience, the clerks and bean-counters like to avoid having to meet their bosses. So that rules out a host of non-combat positions which, frankly would've contradicted the earlier supply runs. No, your parents would've had to be fairly important, and frankly brave, people to try and fill all those roles…" A thought occurred to me further, and I began smirking. "Come to think of it, Tukson said that you yourself were fairly high on the totem-pole, compared to him, a grunt."

Blake's eyes began to widen, she could probably see the net closing in, but wasn't sure what she could say to actually avoid it.

Unfortunately for her, I was pretty sure I already knew the answer.

"Important people, who espoused peaceful methods, and didn't want to see their daughter join into the current fighting." I said "Who, if your word is anything to go by, are currently residing in Menagerie and have been for a number of years now…"

I smiled, as Blake looked like she was about to start sweating bullets.

"So, Kitten… Who's currently in charge of Menagerie right now?" I asked "From what I understand, the White Fang is protective of their leadership, otherwise Oobleck would mention them a little more often."

The room was quiet enough you'd be able to hear a pin drop, and the tension thick enough you could cut it. Then soak it in syrup and scarf it down, like Nora was doing with her pancakes once more.

"I… I don't know." Blake answered "I haven't been home in a long time; it could have changed."

"I feel like something like that would've been newsworthy." I said "Especially among the ranks of the White Fang. Having the old guard currently tending the home-fires pass away or change would be a pretty notable thing…" I leaned in "Their last name wouldn't happen to have been Belladonna, would it?"

Blake practiced being a statue for a moment, as she paled and pursed her lips.

"-And before you answer-" I continued "Bear in mind, you're among friends. Lying to your friends tends to end poorly. Speaking personally, these ones like to tie people to chairs."

"You're never going to let that go, are you?" Yang asked.

"Never." I answered, brightly.

Blake's eye darted amongst everything quickly. She licked her lips briefly, clearly trying to stall for time. A fruitless gesture, as she soon focused her eyes back on me. Her brow narrowed in annoyance. "… You're an ass."

"That's not a no." I said.

"…" Blake heaved a sigh, and spoke "Yeah… My dad is the current Chieftain of Menagerie."

"…Seriously?" Yang asked.

"Yes, seriously, Yang." Blake said, eying her partner.

"…Ok, wow." Yang said, a shocked smile on her face "That's big, why didn't you say something?"

"Never really seemed all that important." Blake said "I want to be judged for who I am and what I do. Not what I am and who I'm from."

"An understandable sentiment." I said "I'm sure most people would look at snowflake and make more than a few assumptions."

"Hey!" Weiss snipped.

"Are you saying you don't want to be known as Weiss Schnee: Warrior Princess and Queen of the Snowflakes?"

Weiss glared at me pointedly as everyone else struggled, and in the case of Ruby, failed, to stifle laughter.

"…That would be Lady Schnee, to you, knave." Weiss muttered.

"But of course, Madam Snow-… wait a minute." I said, a thought occurring to me, and a smirk with it. "Blake, You're father's the Chieftain of Menagerie, right?"

Blake looked at me blankly, unwilling to answer. Unfortunately for her, the question was rhetorical, so I didn't really care if she answered or not.

"Menagerie itself, is not one of the historical kingdoms." I furthered "However, following the revolution, and its establishment as a proper political entity, it currently recognized as a nation. One whose own government is led by a pseudo-monarchy in the form of the previous White-Fang Chieftain. IE, your father. While the verbiage and methods of succession may not be clear-"

Blake's eye narrowed, and she suddenly seemed to have picked up where I was going. "Don't even think about it." She hissed.

My smirk broke into a smile "-that does not change that your father is, by all accounts, a king. Your mother would there-fore be the queen consort-cum-regent. Which, if all of this is true, would make you…"

I waited off on that statement, waiting to see what would happen. I could see realization dawning on my teammates and JNPR, slowly creeping over them in a wide-eyed wave. All slowly cascading towards Blake in anticipation, who glared daggers in my direction. If looks could kill, she'd have committed war crimes.

Rather, she would have.

Except her head was as bright as a sunburnt Bighorner.

"Are… are you a princess?" Ruby asked, at first in a normal tone, before shrinking to a whisper.

Blake immediately whipped towards her, glowing red "I am not a princess!" She yowled. The uninitiated would've mistaken it for anger.

I saw it for what it was.

Embarrassment.

She immediately seemed to realize the way she had responded to that, and clasped her hands over her mouth.

"The evidence seems to stand against you." I said, chuckling "I mean, I can call snowflake a princess, and she knows it's a joke. Heck, she even goes along with it, for a metaphor she practically is one."

I took note of the fact that Weiss rolled her eyes at my prodding.

"You, however, not only couldn't take it as a joke, but reacted viscerally to it." I said "So I have to guess being royalty is a sore subject for you."

"I'm not a princess." Blake said, stuck half-way defeat and retreat. Struggling to decide what the answer was.

"Oh, but of course, m'lady." I said, affecting a stuffy and more elderly voice "I do so apologize for troubling you so."

Blake's face fell in horror as she continued to stare me down. I was going to milk this for everything it was worth.

'Ooo, milk, there's one.'

"Please, allow me to fetch you a dish of warm milk from the scullery, I shall see if the fish monger has acquired the tuna you requested." I continued, not changing my tone. "Only the finest for her majesty."

Blake looked like she wanted to die, a hand ran over her face.

Everyone else was struggling to hold in their laughter.

"If you so wish, M'lady, I can even fetch you some literature from the royal library." I smirked "I believe the newest volume for-"

Before I could finish the sentence, Blake's eyes sharpened. Her body instantly deciding fight was better than flight, and surrendering was for suckers. She grabbed a pancake off her plate, squishing it in her hand, and hocked the ball of carbs at my head. It struck me in the face, leaving a syrupy residue behind on the lenses of my gasmask, before slowly rolling off and tumbling to the floor.

Zwei immediately bounded away from Ruby, towards the ball of food now sitting well within his domain.

However, if she thought she would win so easily, she had another thing coming.

My hand snapped to the floor, snatching the food back up just before Zwei could snap his jaws around it. The little prince looked up at me, annoyed and expectant.

"Tut, tut." I said looking from Blake to Zwei "You know better than to play with your food, lady Belladonna."

I allowed her a second to think about what would happen next.

Then I hurled the wad of food at her.

Zwei bolted after it as the ball of pancakes collided harmlessly with her chest. The pup launched at her like a dog-shaped cannonball.

Blake hissed, and suddenly there were two of her. One where she'd been sitting, and one on the bunk bed above her. Zwei collided with the Blake on the lower bunk, and it instantly vanished. Immediately, he tucked into Blake's unfinished dinner.

Blake glowered down at me from the upper bunk.

On a side note, I'd discovered that Blake's semblance was either short-range teleportation, or she could clone herself. Which was neat.

I smiled at her. "Off to bed so soon, M'lady?"

...

Roman Torchwick thought of himself as a patient man. He'd been in the game and a part of Vale's underworld for more than a decade of his life and he'd garnered a few valuable skills and traits in that time. He knew the importance of being quick. Getting caught holding the bag was a good way for a thief's career to be cut short. He knew the importance of knowledge. Being able to read his mark or know if he was being made one. He knew the importance of muscle. Outside of a fight, many hands made light work, and too many made you careless. He knew the importance of quality over quantity. A handful of Atlesian Hard-light meant more than a ton of Combustion to the right person. But above all of these traits, and more, he considered patience to be an important one. Not that he enjoyed it, but knew its merit.

In a business where timing made the difference between success and failure, patience was worth much.

Deep into the back of the warehouse he'd treated as his hideout for weeks now, he found his patience tested.

He stood in his office, seated well above the floor of the building, staring out at the shipping containers that filled the place. Dozens and dozens of massive steel boxes, painted in blacks and grays. Every variety of dust commercially available, and some not, rested within their confines. The sum total of several months' worth of planning and work. More than he could ever have the power to sell and move on his own. Worth more money than he'd ever held in his hands throughout his criminal career.

More than enough, to have him rot in a cell for the rest of his life if the police saw him with all of it.

He drew a puff off his cigar as he stared irritably out across the warehouse. With a subtle motion, a smoke ring left his mouth, and he watched it sail listlessly, slowly dispersing into the dark air.

"These cigars aren't cheap, y'know Neo?" Roman asked, turning back towards his office. A smirk crept across his face. "A box of premium Vacuans goes for, what, a hundred Lien for the cheap stuff, right?"

The office Roman stood in was a dingy and sparse room. A cork board and map along one wall, dated furnishings and a rusty metal desk. Far from what he considered 'good', but good enough for him to work with.

In the far corner of the room, near a door leading to the warehouse below, sat Neopolitan. Her dual-chromatic eyes scanning over a magazine as a pleased smile rested on her face.

Torchwick turned the cigar around in his fingers, watching the smoke curl from its end. His eye glanced over the band. A metallic, warm silver emblem of an embossed snowflake, backlit with brass. "But you didn't even aim low, you went for the Good Stuff." He said, returning the cigar to his mouth and taking another draw from it. "Even a single one of these 'Nicks' could go for a grand. A box, maybe ten…"

Torchwick looked back to the rough desk he'd been given, at his end of the room. On its surface sat a pristine cardboard box, about half as tall as Neo was, and three times as wide. Its lid had been opened, and within sat several dozen oaken cases. Each one hand crafted, inlays and reliefs of wintry frescos carved along its facets. One of the cases had been removed, set alongside its cardboard brother. The case's contents on display, cigars resting neatly alongside each other.

"And you managed to steal me a whole case of them." Roman said, taking another pull from his cigar. Savoring its pungent aroma and sharp taste. His smirk turned to a satisfied smile, as he turned back towards his partner. "The only thing I'm going to ask, is: what did I do to earn such a wonderful partner?"

The pink-and-brown-haired young woman looked up from her magazine. A devilish smile crossed her lips as a sultry gaze laid itself over Roman.

A chuckle escaped Roman as he took another pull from his cigar.

It was a short-lived notion.

He heard the footsteps coming from a mile away, climbing the hollow steel stairs outside of his office. No sooner had the cigar touched Roman's lips than the door to his office slammed open

A massive silhouette loomed in its frame. Standing close as they were to Neo, Torchwick idly noted how they were almost twice her size in height alone. Were they anymore broad, they'd need to cant sideways to step into the room. The vague shadow of a tattoo running up one arm and shoulder like some vaguely tribal corkscrew. Hair cropped close, face hidden by a full mask of bone white, eyes accented by sharp red.

The silhouette stepped into the room, as Torchwick completed the draw on his cigar. He knew who it was well enough by this point. Dealing with the animals of the White Fang as closely as he had been recently, the two had been acquainted more than he preferred. Torchwick had no love for the Fang or Faunus alike, but he kept it as a rule to as far away from violent nutcases as possible.

For the likes of the White Fang Lieutenant, Bane, that almost went doubly so.

"Well, it seems that one of the little lady's pets has found its way to our office." Roman spoke, blowing cigar smoke "Isn't that nice, Neo?"

Torchwick took note of the tension in the Lieutenant's shoulders.

"Watch your tongue, human." Bane growled, voice the deep rumble of a locomotive "My tolerance for your life is threadbare at the moment."

Torchwick gave the lieutenant a cocky smirk. The criminal knew the score between himself and the Lieutenant. The latter could easily bring ruin to the former. However, Torchwick knew he was, for the time being, needed by people above the Lieutenant's station. So long as that was the case, Torchwick had a degree of freedom in dealing with the Lieutenant. It was a degree of freedom he knew to be tenuous.

One, he had the sense, that was about to be challenged.

"Oh no, please, take your best shot." Roman goaded "I'm sure your boss and his boss would be happy to know you killed off your best chance at smuggling all this Dust out of Vale."

The lieutenant began to loom towards Torchwick, towering over the human. "Do not tempt me. We could easily find someone more suited in our ranks."

"Funny." Roman said, puffing his cigar and blowing the smoke at the Lieutenant's mask "I could've sworn that your people were approached about smuggling this stuff in the first place."

The smoke stung the Lieutenant's eyes, its acrid stench assaulted his heightened sense instantly. He did not flinch at the provocation, only tensed his arms. Narrowly resisting the urge to reach out and strangle the impudent wretch he so towered over.

Torchwick looked blandly at him, then behind him. To Neo, still sitting primly by the door. Her eyes had not left the magazine, nor had the publication left her. However, her hands had glided seamlessly and silently to her parasol. Resting it silently across herself, the tip pointed leisurely at the Lieutenant's back.

Torchwick was more than happy to note as well, that the Lieutenant had himself come unarmed. Perhaps under the impression that his physical stature alone would be enough to deal with two humans.

"We could easily do what you have not." Bane said "You are but a convenience to us. One that has grown less so, lately. A position you will grow to find quite painful, I assure you."

Torchwick continued to smirk "So I reiterate: prove it."

A tense silence fell between the two. Both waiting for the other to make a move. Torchwick would rather not waste his time on a fight. But he knew the way that animals like the White Fang thought. All violence and brute force. Subtlety and planning were, most times, foreign concepts to them. If it became necessary for himself and Neo to cull one overly aggressive member, they could probably hide it. Write it off as a 'work-place accident' of sorts. Wild animals didn't belong in the workplace, after all.

He did not, however, want to waste his time or accrue more unwanted trouble from it.

There was one who he felt himself far more concerned with, after all.

As the criminal and Lieutenant silently watched each other, she joined them.

Her presence was announced by the brittle click of glass and the subtle shift in the air around them. Every step she took carried both with her. Something silently oppressive and unrelenting. A power that neither could grasp but knew instinctually as it drew close.

The Lieutenant shifted his weight, and turned to face the approaching footsteps.

She stepped through the door with a smooth and elegant sway to her gait. High-heeled shoes of dark glass covered slender feet beneath an anklet of obsidian jewels. Lithe legs rising palely to a crimson dress, whose skirt ended well above her knees, a large split in its side, revealing a pair of black shorts, further split and weaved by black lace. An azure flower flourished above it, centered by a sapphiric jewel. Her crimson dress rose to a décolletage, just above her chest. It stretched to either side there, ran the lengths of her arms, embroidered in the dull yellows of inert Dust. A black choker ringed her pretty neck snuggly, resting beneath a soft jaw and pointed chin. The bearing of her face was regal and dainty. Eyes of a fiery gold and long hair the color of raven's down curled over a shoulder, growing ashen at the tip.

Cinder Fall surveyed the room smoothly. A soft smile upon her lips that brought no ease to the Criminal and his cohort, nor the Lieutenant.

"I'm so glad to see that the both of you are here." Cinder said, voice soothing and sweet "There is a small matter that we all need to attend to."

The Lieutenant watched Cinder with a predatory gaze for a moment, then backed away from Torchwick. He could save their fight for later, something which Torchwick was silently grateful for.

He was less grateful, however, as Cinder made her way towards him. "You've made far less progress than you promised, Roman."

"Not for a lack of trying." Roman answered, looking pointedly to the Lieutenant "I can only do so much when I've got the police breathing down my neck constantly."

"Oh, Roman, I thought you could handle a little pressure." Cinder said, her tone disarmingly and eerily pleasant, before turning her attention to the Lieutenant "However, he is not the only one to have been found wanting."

The Lieutenant gave a low growl "We've been doing our part. Diligently."

"Really?" Roman sneered "Because from where I've been standing, you've-"

Cinder raised her hand towards Torchwick in a gentle gesture. The Criminal's words died instantly, replaced by a grimace.

"Torchwick's work, isn't yours." Cinder spoke "You were given a task of your own to perform. You've proven far less effective."

The Lieutenant growled again "My people are working diligently. We've had many plans to help aid his work." The Lieutenant motioned to Torchwick "My superiors are not happy with the recent string of failures either."

"Quite." Cinder answered.

"We're not sure where the fault lies." The Lieutenant continued "The major plans we'd developed were all undercut before they could be enacted. Police were ready to intervene, proper numbers never arrived, or unexpected resistance would be encountered. Worse still, our safehouses and rallying points are becoming compromised. We're losing vital intel and ground on all fronts."

Cinder quirked a brow at the Lieutenant's statement, curious but unimpressed.

"It sounds like you've got a rat among you." Roman said snidely, puffing on his cigar.

"Watch your tongue." The Lieutenant growled "Ever since you failed to properly dispose of Tukson, we've been watching closely for further potential traitors to the cause."

Torchwick grimaced "Can't pin that blame on me, I had a plan. You can put it on whoever didn't bother to check he was still-"

Once more Cinder motioned to the Criminal. This time turning to look at his fully. The gentle and pleasant air around her evaporated amidst a wave of heat and authority. She looked at the Criminal questioningly, but sought no answer beyond submission.

Once more, Torchwick fell silent, eyes darting to Neo, still seated in her corner.

The Criminal's partner had turned away from her magazine now. Watching the situation intently. Silently ready to move at the most subtle of motions.

"… Continue, Lieutenant." Cinder spoke, returning her gaze to the Faunus.

"We've been keeping a close watch on our ranks, since Tukson escaped." Bane growled "We could not account for him having leaked information before his fleeing. However, our losses recently were not something he would have known. So… Yes, we've been searching to see where there may be a leak in our organization."

"Good." Cinder spoke, watching the Lieutenant intently "The result?"

"We believe that the leak is coming from our communications network." Bane answered "My brothers in arms know the consequences for treason are quite dear. If they are captured, silence is the only survivable choice… however, were someone to have breached our communications, they would be far better prepared to act against us. We have rules about destroying our equipment in the face of capture."

"Do you believe someone in your ranks failed to do so?" Cinder inquired.

"We've grown to believe so, yes." The Lieutenant answered "We don't know where specifically the leak has come from, which has made trying to deal with rather it difficult. We have an idea as to who has been stalling our efforts as well, but have been unable to properly identify them."

"That would be?" Cinder asked.

"Someone called 'Crazy Steve'." The Lieutenant answered, turning to look at Torchwick "From what we gather, he's a new element to Vale's underworld."

"Feh." Roman huffed, gesturing with his cigar "New guys come and go with each shift of the police… Still, I remember hearing about what happened to Xiong and his organization. Said he lost everything to one guy."

"That 'one guy' is currently our problem." The Lieutenant answered "They've done well to keep us busy, and keep out our sight while doing it."

"A problem, you should be more than capable of handling." Cinder spoke.

"We've been working towards it." The Lieutenant answered "It took time to figure out how we were being infiltrated and where from."

"And?" Cinder asked.

The Lieutenant chuckled darkly. "Well, I wouldn't have told you we figured it out, if we hadn't."

The Lieutenant reached a meaty hand into the pocket of his uniform. Thick, calloused fingers drew forth a scroll that seemed tiny in his hands. He opened the device, finger running over the display briefly. Information flashed before him, before settling over a map of the city.

"After we figured out how we were being tracked, one of our informants had the idea to seed information among our safehouses. A couple tertiary objectives, made to look more important. We can't be wasting resources watching all of them and waiting to see which one gets hit. So, we ran a few jobs to see which ones had his attention."

"I take it you have results then." Cinder spoke.

The Lieutenant nodded "We had a series of long-standing contracts out on prominent families. Most of them from Atlas, but a few locals. Good for sending a message, or settling old feuds."

"This pertains to your failings because?" Cinder asked.

"The people I've been sending out, haven't been coming back." The Lieutenant growled "Nor have the families themselves been bumped off."

"Meaning he took the bait." Roman said, puffing on his cigar.

"That's the thought." The lieutenant answered "I've been closely watching the list of contracts since then. And we've got another tonight."

With those words, the Lieutenant swiped the map away and opened his listed contacts. His finger swiped over an unlisted number, and the device connected with a click. A holographic display leapt outward from the device, hovering over it. It displayed the interior of a vehicle, a poorly maintained and cleaned one, the Criminal noted. Seated within, a collection of White Fang. Each visibly armed with blades or a gun.

The image shifted, panning upwards as though affixed to a position. One of the White Fang panned into view from the hologram's upper edge. Upside down, they looked directly at the Hologram.

"Are you in position?" The Lieutenant asked.

"Just about sir." The White Fang answered "Chill's already in position, we're waiting for the family and attaching the cameras as instructed. You should have a good view of the job."

"Perfect." The Lieutenant growled, a pleased edge to his voice. He turned towards the Criminal and Young woman in his vision. "Let's see if we can't get a better view of things now."

…

It was a warm summer's night in the city of Vale. Nightfall blanketed the city from the unreachable horizon's edge. The broken moon hung overhead; stars glittered like shattered glass hanging distantly above the concrete streets below, bathed warm in the street light. Chief among the buildings on the street, was a theater. Its name emblazoned brilliantly above the marquee as the Regency Theatre. Beneath it, printed upon the marquee itself, shows and stories of the season's current flavor. Action and comedy to raise the heart, and fill the mind with wondrous thoughts. Horror and tragedy to sunder it, ground those wonders with painful truths and sorrowful displays. Then romance, to set it aloft once more with but a tender touch.

The Mark of Felis

Shadows of Kuroyuri

Reapers and Wanderers

From the cool depths of the theater, stepped a family. A mother, a father, and a young girl, dressed prim and well. The parents moved at a calm, relaxed gait, standing close to one another despite the warmth. Their countenance, dark and regal, tinged with the early grays of age, happy and content. The girl moved with vigor and energy, as begot one of such youth. Dashing to and fro, striking out at the air and shadows as though they were some great unseen foe. Every bounce and step carrying a laugh and cry of joy.

The family did not walk far from the entrance of the Regency. They turned out the entrance and started along the sidewalk at a leisurely stride. The girl darted ahead of her parents, continuing her imaginary sword fight. They continued along the sidewalk, passing a parked van, and to the corner of the building. The Regency, like many buildings in the city, could not afford space for their patrons to park. Space is a rare commodity in many cities, to waste it on private parking is luxury only the affluent could afford. Though the family was affluent indeed, they were not of Vale, and were but visitors to the kingdom. A vacation, to enjoy the beginnings of the Vytal Festival, before returning home.

However, that did not preclude them from finding parking not so far away, public though it may have been. From there, they would swiftly travel back to their hotel, a few blocks away. A peaceful end to a wonderful day.

But, as the family drew further away from the theatre, little mind did they pay to the van. As its driver allowed it to begin to idle forward under the bare power of its engine. It moved at a crawl, stalking the family so blissfully ignorant of the danger upon them. Staying so barely outside their purview.

Onward the family went, in their ignorance. The vehicle stalking slowly behind them by several yards. The streets around them, deserted. It was the point in the night where many knew better than to be out. Even more so, as news of the violence that constantly grasped at the city's throat only grew.

Blissfully ignorant did they carry on. Their destination growing ever closer.

Until at last, they reached the last length to their vehicle. A brief jaunt through an alley between a pair of buildings. There were less conspicuous ways to their destination. Staying with the sidewalk and streetlights, keeping out of the back alleys and gutters of the city. But they were longer, requiring the family to waste time walking their way around the block.

The alley was a straight path. Their destination tantalizingly in view just on the other side. A temptation too great for many a weary traveler so late in the night.

Too great for the family as well, as they began down it. The girl darted ahead fearlessly and courageously, to dash the shadows before her. Without hesitation, save a word of caution for the girl, the parents followed after her. Their footfalls echoed off the close stone walls of the alleyway. The girl's cries of excitement bending into joyous howls as they resounded. The girl's imagination held her tight in its grasp, and refused to release itself.

Until, without a moment's pause, reality thrust itself upon her.

Halfway into the alley, a shadow thrust itself back at the girl. It moved from behind a dumpster, slow and calculated, until it stood in the middle of the alley. Blocking the way.

The girl's cries died away with a yelp of surprise. Her thrusting gait jerked into a retreating jump. The parents froze in their tracks, as they observed the shadow before them. Smoothly, it moved towards them.

From the dark shadows of the alley, into the pale light of the moonlit night, strode a faunus. Dressed in the garb of the White Fang. His mouth exposed beneath his metal mask in a vicious sneer. At his side, in his hand and leveled at the hip, a pistol of Atlesian make.

Barrel pointed at the girl.

The parents began to cry out, the father broke away from the mother, lunging towards the girl. His words were drowned out by the roar of an engine, and the howl of tires against pavement. The van that had been stalking them in slow and animalistic fashion made itself known. The vehicle roared into the mouth of the alley at an angle, blocking the way and trapping the family.

Then the panel door of the Van swept open. More White Fang leapt from the vehicle, Four and another who remained in the van, waiting to drive. They carried hatchets and machetes with them, edges honed and ready.

The parents turned back briefly, long enough to realize what was happening.

Then the White Fang began to close in on them. The only escape: past the one pointing a gun at the child. How foolish they must have felt in that moment, having chosen to put themselves in so obviously dangerous of a situation, ill-prepared. Whatever illusion of safety they may have held, shattered.

The White Fang with the gun began to move towards the daughter. The girl recoiled immediately; expression fearful.

The father and mother moved with instinctual purpose. Strides bolstered with the speed of parents protecting their young. Arms stretched out to their child, grasping at them.

Death closed in upon them. Ready to hack and slash and pierce them until they were naught but another puddle of blood in the city's history. One more tragic mistake that could have been avoided.

'Yeah, fuck that.'

I jumped off the roof of the theater, a good thirty-to-forty-foot drop, at a minimum.

I used the White Fang with the gun as a cushion to land. The grunt folded beneath me like old laundry, and served his purpose. He shouted in pain, as the gun suddenly escaped his hand. It went off as it did, but their aim was off, the bullet bit the ground instead. Not safe, but better than the alternative.

The Grunt reacted to my landing on him with a yelp of surprise and a howl of pain. His aura likely giving him enough cushion to not immediately take injury.

So, I stomped his head into the pavement as I stood up. For good measure.

I turned to the family as the mother and father grasped the child. The mother wrapping around the girl in a shielding embrace, and the father moved into a fighting stance. He stood, frozen halfway into a strike. The fear in his and the mother's replaced with further shock and bewilderment. The harsh light from the Van obscuring them and myself with hard shadows.

I paid them but a moment's mind, to make sure they were ok. Physically, anyway, what was happening was probably going to leave some mental scars.

Past them, to the end of the alley, by the van, The White Fang stood frozen, shadows cast down towards us. The lighting was wrong, I couldn't see their faces. But I'd done this song and dance enough to know I'd just knocked them out of step. I was going to keep it that way.

My head twitched down towards the parents. Fearfully looking to me as they stood vigilant over their daughter.

I spoke one word. "Run."

Then I leapt over them, and broke into a dead sprint down the alley.

The White Fang didn't have time to respond.

I crashed into the closest of them fist first, Legion Assault, my weight throwing them off balance and staggering them. I allowed my forward momentum to carry me further. I swiveled on a heel, other arm lashing out in a hammer strike at the next closest Grunt, one with a machete. His weapon started to rise in a guard, but I was faster. The heel of my hand hammered into his throat. A strangled squawk escaped him as I carried the last of the momentum through, turning back on the first Grunt and punching him in the back of the head as I slipped past him. His lost balance and new momentum toppling him forward.

Then the grunts began reacting. The two that I had not been able to reach recovered as their numbers dwindled. One with a hatchet took a swing at my neck, while one with a machete chopped at my shoulder. I dodged the hatchet, but let the machete hit. My duster was strong enough to take the hit, but risking the hatchet was suicide. The blade of the hatchet whiffed my neck and I felt the machete strike dully against my shoulder. The Hatchet-grunt stepped in, getting his balance back as his off-hand lashed out at me, grasping.

I stepped into the Hatchet-grunt's grasp, his hand missing as my fist rose up in an uppercut. I caught him square on the underside of his jaw, and his head swung backward. The hatchet swung backwards haphazardly as he tried to get clear of me. I avoided the swing easily and turned on the one with the Machete, as his hand began to reel back. I clasped his wrist in one hand and smacked the weapon out of his with the other. It clattered to the ground as I used his arm to pull him into a knee strike, doubling him over it.

The Fang that I'd slammed in the throat recovered enough to make a halfhearted swing at me with another machete. I responded by tossing the Fang already in my grasp at him. The two fell in a tangled heap as the throat-struck Fang became weighed and slowed by his friend. Both jockeying to try and stand up, while simultaneously trying to use the other as a point of leverage.

While they danced the horizontal mambo, I began to draw my cattle prod, put the fight to a faster end.

Before I could though, the van blocking the alley began to roar its engine. There was a squeal of tires and metal paneling against masonry as the vehicle began to angle itself down the alley. I wasn't sure what the idiot behind the wheel was thinking, but I had to imagine he was going to try and run me down.

I released my cattle prod before it was fully draw, leaving it dangling half-way out at an inappropriate angle. A stab of pain leapt through my hand as I tried to quick draw That Gun off my hip. My hand didn't move smoothly through the motion, but my aura compensated for old wounds. Iron cleared leather as quick as I could manage, and I sent a round slamming through the windshield. Around the ballpark of where the driver's head should've been.

I must've hit close to home, because the roar of the engine died back to an idling whine. The lurching leap of the vehicle shuddered back to a crawl, dragged slower by the confines of the alley.

Before I had a chance to correct myself, the second hatchet-Grunt returned. This time succeeding in getting a grip on me and pulling me into a grapple. He managed to punch me in the face, with the hand holding the hatchet, and then tried to repay the throat-strike I'd given him. There wasn't much I could do to avoid it, so I guarded against the blow, bolstering my aura while I hooked a leg behind one of his. The hit landed, and I felt my throat close slightly while my aura pushed back against the blow. As he recoiled to try and strike again, my hand holding That Gun came up beside his head. In the Mojave, I'd have ventilated his head. Instead, I shot the wall behind him. Let the muzzle flare and gunshot wreak havoc on his sharper senses. He gave a surprised yowl and the shot echoed off the walls. I pushed forward, tripping him over our hooked legs. He fell back and dragged me with him. I let myself fall with him, using the momentum plus my weight to twist and drive an elbow into the side of his head, at the edge of his eye socket.

He grunted in pain as we connected with the ground, and I felt his grip loosen enough to break free. I slipped loose, and slammed a fist into his face for good measure, before leaping to my feet and kicking him in the face.

As I got to my feet, the Van's engine began to rev again. Slowly ramping back up to the roar it had while trying to ram itself down the alley. Not wanting to chance things, I wasted precious seconds swapping over to my Flare gun. Even if the first bullet had been enough to stall the driver, I wasn't counting on a second one to work. I also knew that the flare wasn't so likely to get through the windshield given its slower velocity.

So I shot the engine block instead.

It was a normal flare round, just a mixture of phosphorous, epoxy, and other flammable bits. I figured the fire would cause the driver to panic. Accidently plow into a wall.

What I didn't expect was for the flare to catch the fuel cell.

I didn't know a lot about how dust works, much less the vehicles that run off of it. I only knew it was volatile.

Then the flare hit the engine of the van and, initially, there was only a small burst of flame from under the hood. The flare breaking up on impact and getting pulled in.

Then the fuel must have caught, and the hood launched off the vehicle in a fireball.

The Van died immediately, and I heard the driver screaming. After a moment, he scrambled out of the vehicle. Moving instinctually away from the blaze as it began to consume the vehicle.

I bolted towards him, in his frenzied confusion, and grabbed him by the collar. I pulled him away from the fire, then slammed his head into the nearest brick wall. I released him, and as he began to fall, drove my knee into his head, slamming it into the brick wall again. He crumpled to the floor in a heap and I turned back down the alley.

The two Fang that I'd left on the ground had managed to pull themselves up, and were facing towards me. The light in the alley had changed, now only the dancing, chaotic amber light of the flames was on us. They could see me, standing in front of them with my back to the fire.

I could see them, backs to the alley. The hesitation in their expressions. The way they shifted anxiously on their feet and gracelessly shifted their weapons. The lack of preparedness they had for this situation. They'd come to whack a family out on the town for the evening. They weren't ready for an actual fight.

But more than that, I could see something else that they couldn't.

I made a show of reloading my flaregun, setting my kit back to rights in slow and methodical fashion. Making it seem like I was giving them an opening.

The hatchet-Grunt took the bait and came charging towards me.

I finished drawing my cattle prod and brought the it up. Our weapons connected, and I parried the haft of his hatchet off the shaft of my electrode. Running the length of the weapon until the head of my weapon caught under his. With a twist, I wrenched his weapon out of his hand and then thrust forward, stabbing the electrode into his chest. The grunt howled as the electricity coursed through him and I forced him to the ground. I pinned him there, as his companion with the machete tried to find his nerve.

His window closed.

The father crept up behind him, and his arm barred themselves around the Grunt's throat. Pulling the grunt into a chokehold. The Grunt flailed for a moment, before the father kicked out the knee of the Grunt and forced him to the ground. His hold released on the Grunt, as the father's palm glided over the Grunt's face. He pushed downward, slamming the Grunt's head into the pavement. With grace I'd only see on Veteran fighters, the father immediately reeled back, before slamming his hand down on the Grunt's face. The strike instantly sending the Grunt limp.

I retracted the electrode from the hatchet-grunt and rose. He curled over on himself, and I got off him. He wasn't going anywhere.

My gaze rose to meet the father's. The man had ignored my order to flee. Normally a blackmark against him, and his wife, as I could see her and their daughter. Still standing where they'd been, the mother staring me down with cat-like intensity. Yet, looking at the father, and seeing the calm way the mother yet shielded her daughter, I didn't hold it against them. The way they carried themselves spoke more than their outward appearance did. Most people don't keep calm when the shooting starts.

The family had been listed among the many that were under threat tonight. After figuring out where they were supposed to be hit, I'd wanted to hurry. The White Fang hiding out in their unmarked van had seemed an obvious enough target. I could've removed them and been gone before they'd even had a chance to make a move. Make it so as few people saw me as possible. But I'd wanted to be thorough, make sure I left nothing to chance.

I'd have missed the guy in the alley.

I wasn't sure what it was that kept tonight from turning into a tragedy, but I wouldn't call it luck.

I stood there, in front of the father, his face illuminated by the fire of the burning van behind me. It was hard to gauge how much of me he could see, but I could see him. He seemed younger from above. He was a man of middle age, with a stony face, dark hair, and cold blue eyes.

Those eyes regarded me warily, calculating, as he began to step backwards, further away from me. Without taking his eyes off of me, he returned to his wife and child. As soon as he was beside them, his wife's hand rose to his. He looked down to her as she crouched, cradling their daughter. He fell to his knees and embraced them. The parent's eyes left me, looking to one another, then their daughter.

The daughter's gaze never drifted away from me.

She stared me down with wide, brilliantly blue eyes.

But her gaze was not the same as her parents. The fear that was there, was muted, weakened. She looked at me, almost transfixed. There was something else.

I didn't have time to mull what.

There were still people in danger tonight.

Given as good of an opening as I was going to get, I pushed my aura into my legs and jumped. I sailed over the van, and ran off into the night.

So much to do.

Not enough time.

…

Silence settled over the office. The video displayed by the scroll's holographic feed had captured everything. Now they showed only the rooftops and stars above, as the defeated White Fang lay prone in the alley. The observers silently mulled the information presented to them through their subversive planning.

"… It would appear-" Bane growled "That we've found our problem."

"Quite." Cinder answered.

Torchwick remained silent a moment longer, puffing softly on his cigar. Looking through the haze of it to the display. His brow furrowed as he concentrated.

Cinder's gaze drifted over to him, sharp and intent. "Do you know who he is, Roman?"

Roman bared his teeth in a snarl "Tsk, hardly. But I recognize him from that botched job at the docks a few weeks back. Didn't get his name, but he wasn't working alone. It was him and about five other teenagers."

"The stories we've been getting aren't about five teenagers." Bane growled "It's about one guy, the description we've been getting is pretty consistent."

"Hey, I'm just telling you what I know." Torchwick shot back "Your people were there too, so you should've been able to put this together yourself."

A bestial growl escaped the Lieutenant as the muscles in his arms began to cord. "Watch your tong-"

"Silence." Cinder spoke, voice hardly scratching an octave.

The office fell silent once more. Waiting for what the young woman had to say.

Cinder studied the scroll intently for a moment, pondering, before allowing herself to continue.

"I am… aware of who this 'Crazy Steve' is." Cinder spoke, eyeing both the Criminal and the Lieutenant "It would also appear, that you are both now aware of what the issue is. So tell me, how shall we proceed?"

It was not a question.

The Lieutenant watched the young woman carefully, not allowing himself to speak. He remembered the day that she had appeared before his leader, and had coerced him into aiding her. Were he not aware of how dangerous she was, he had instincts enough to sense it. There was a power about the woman before him. Like he was standing at the distant edge of a storm. Something miles off, but as fickle and tumultuous as the winds. One errant whisper away from danger.

"… We shall begin work on a plan immediately." Bane growled "Once everything is in place, we will inform you."

The Young woman gazed at the Lieutenant a moment longer. The Faunus still feeling as though at any moment, lightning may crash through the roof of the warehouse and strike him dead.

Then, Cinder smiled, and spoke "I shall look forward to it."

The young woman turned, and began down the stairs of the warehouse. As she passed the door of the office, she faced the criminals and Lieutenant once more, a smile still upon her lips. "Do not keep me waiting. I would hate to return here."

Then she left. Allowing the Criminals and Lieutenant to have the room once more.

Without hesitation, the Lieutenant approached Torchwick. The difference in size and power between them, apparent.

"I will inform you, should we need your aid." Bane growled "Should you happen to 'remember' any other important details, do not hesitate to share them."

The Lieutenant glared down at the smaller human male. Who, in turn, looked back up to him with boredom and thinly veiled disdain.

Torchwick took a long drag from his cigar, and blew the smoke into the Lieutenant's face.

"We'll do our job, as we have been." Torchwick answered blandly "Now, run along and do yours."

There was a brief moment, where the Criminal sensed that the Lieutenant wished to snap him in half. He saw it in the way the Faunus held himself.

But, without further prompting, the Lieutenant turned and left. Slamming the door shut as he did so.

A moment more of silence passed, as the Criminal enjoyed his cigar. His gaze drifted to his accomplice, still sitting in her corner. Though her magazine now discarded as she regarded him.

"The nerve of some people." Torchwick answered.

The Thief chuckled silently, smirking dangerously at him.

"Did you think it was those kids?" Torchwick asked "You'd have said something, right Neo?"

The Thief playfully stuck her tongue out at the Criminal, as she rose from her seat. She stretched languidly as she approached him.

Torchwick flicked the embers off the end of his cigar, and stashed it into his jacket pocket. He then gave his partner in crime a dapper smile. "Wanna get some ice cream?"

...

Right about the time I was putting the coffee tin back, the door to my team's room opened. I'd cut out from grounds-keeping a half hour early, there was something I needed to take care of. Granted, I was going about it in an underhanded way, but I hadn't wanted to approach from the front. Not before I'd made some moves to guarantee a more successful outcome.

Right as I'd finished my preparations, Blake and Yang came waltzing into the room. It moved my timetable up a smidge, but worked anyway, I could improvise.

Blake stepped into the room first, looking bedraggled and out of sorts. A look that was in danger of becoming her default, with how often she looked it. Her clothes were wrinkled and creased, bow almost ready to come undone, and heavy bags hung low beneath her eyes. Her appearance was put into even starker contrast by Yang, who was her otherwise unruffled sunny self.

I stood in front of the cabinet my teammates kept everything, and relaxed my stance. Making myself natural. "Ah, just the kitten I was looking for." I said "We need to talk."

"Oh, so I've got to take this from you too?" Blake asked snidely, giving me a sharp look and a raised brow.

"Too?" I asked, then looked to Yang "… Guess I'm not the only one who noticed."

"It's kinda obvious." Yang agreed "I was kinda hoping we'd be able to talk someplace nobody else was."

"A shame." I said "Given the effort I've been putting in, I'd say I have just as much a voice in this conversation as you do."

"Neither of you have a voice, there is no conversation." Blake said testily, trying to shut the conversation down before it began.

"There is such a thing as a one-sided conversation you know." I retorted "You might be talking to a wall, but at least someone is making the effort."

Blake grimaced at me and crossed the room. I sidestepped her, and allowed her into the cabinet. She reached in and retrieved a pitch-black tin: Deathstalker's Delight X-press Coffee, Vacuan Blend. She took the tin and began to storm back across the room. Same as me, Yang made no effort to stop her, and Blake stepped back into the hall. Unfortunately for her, Quitting is for suckers, and me and Yang stepped in tow with her. We started down the hall.

"Running away from an uncomfortable conversation doesn't change anything." I said "You're only delaying the inevitable."

"Whatever you want to say, can wait until we've stopped Torchwick." Blake answered curtly.

"What, a few weeks from now?" I asked "That ain't gonna fly Kitten, you'll be dead from exhaustion before that."

Blake turned, looking briefly over her shoulder, and gave me a sharp glare.

"I wouldn't go that far." Yang said "But he's right, if we actually managed to corner Torchwick right now, what good would you be like this?"

"I can still… fight." Blake said, barely suppressing a yawn mid-sentence. She grimaced and started walking faster.

"And you'd lose." Yang said, not sugarcoating the reality of things.

Ignoring her partner, Blake hurried along and we followed after her. The dorms had a common area in them that we didn't often use. I'd been to it once before with Weiss, back around the time I'd first gotten here, and I did use it on occasion. It had a communal kitchenette for everyone on this level of the dorms to use, but frankly it didn't see much use. I can only remember ever seeing maybe one or two people outside myself ever use it. Considering I have a hotplate to work with, I really didn't even need to use it. It had a coffee maker though, which saved us having to keep one in the room.

Blake strolled, more accurately stumbled, across the room. She popped open the funnel for the coffee grounds and began pouring them in.

"Blake, you need to rest." Yang gently nudged "I know you how important taking down Torchwick is to you, but-"

"But nothing, Yang." Blake said, pressing a button and setting the machine to brew. She turned and looked at both me and her partner. "I can't afford to rest, not now."

"Actually, you can." I said "That's half the reason I'm killing myself every night, remember? So, you're ready for when it's time to hit Torchwick where it hurts."

"I will be ready, because I am ready." Blake said, rubbing her eyes that, now that I could see them, were red as a Bighorner's ass. "I'm going to keep studying the information that we have. That way, no matter what happens, I can be ready for it."

I shook my head. "It doesn't work that way, Blake. All the book learning in the world can't prepare you for when the shit hits the fan."

"That doesn't mean I shouldn't be ready." Blake bit back "I need to be ready."

"No, you need to sleep." Yang said gently "What happens when the time does come to fight Torchwick, and you pass-out midfight?"

"That won't happen." Blake said back, voice on the verge of a hiss.

"… Is there something wrong here Blake?" I asked "You're being irrational."

Blake's eye hardened into a glare. "I'm not being irrational, everything I'm doing-"

"How does running yourself into the ground seem rational?" I asked "As someone who does that more frequently than should be advised, it's not."

"Because I have to make this right!" Blake shouted, finally boiling over.

She flared her arms out to either side as she began shouting. Every word punctuated by a motion and flail as Yang and I stood back and watched. Acting as though we were currently standing somewhere behind closed doors. Where no one was going to pry into our private affairs.

Frankly, it proved my point about her irrationality.

"You just don't get it!" Blake shouted again "This is my fault. I helped make this whole mess possible. Everything I did, every stupid choice I've made, is why we're here. If I had just stopped then, had I realized what it was we were doing, none of this would be happening!" Blake's chest began heaving. The whole outburst was taking energy that, I was more than certain, Blake didn't actually have the reserves to sustain. Her breathing was getting heavier and more labored. "So I can't rest. Not until I've made this right. You just… don't understand."

"… So you're going to run yourself until you're dead?" I asked.

I let those words hang in the air for a moment. Blake didn't have the steam to immediately respond, and Yang seemed to be working something of her own. But I already knew the approach I was taking. I'd had this talk once before. Odds were, I'd probably have it again, given enough time and the company I kept.

"That's where the road you're going down leads, Blake." I said "You, trying to right every mistake you've made, and getting yourself killed. I'm sure in your mind, it makes sense, almost like you're balancing the scales, right?"

Blake didn't respond to that, but I saw from the shiver that went through her, I'd hit the mark.

"But here's the thing, Blake: bad things happen sometimes. The world's a harsh place like that. It's both arrogance and pride to assume it's all because of you." I said, trying to be as gentle as I could "The White Fang was going down the path it's on long before you ever got involved. You may have done some things you wish you could take back, but you're not the problem. Not anymore. You're trying to make things right. But in doing that, you've elected to sacrifice yourself so long as you can achieve some form of success. Tell me, at what point does you depriving yourself of rest keep any of the White Fang from committing war crimes?"

"I- I-" Blake stuttered, the drunken haze of exhaustion dampening her words.

"I can answer for you: it doesn't." I said "The only thing it does, is make it so that, when the time comes for you to actually do the good you so crave to do, you're only alternative is to fight valiantly and pass in a blaze of glory… Tell me, you can't seriously want that, can you?"

"N-no!" Blake coughed after a moment "I-I- I just…"

Then, Blake did something I wasn't expecting.

She started tearing up. The exhaustion must've started crashing down on her.

"I-I… How do I even make up for the things I did?" Blake asked, a few dewy tears rolling from the corners of her eyes. "I… I can't even tell any of you some of the things I did, that I wish I could take back. What else am I supposed to do?"

Almost as if on cue, the coffee machine burbled to an end, the pot full of restorative black elixir. Blake paused for a moment but, with reluctant motions, she poured herself a mug. She let it rest under her nose a moment, before sipping from it. She said nothing, just stared down into the coffee as its surface stilled, forming a black mirror.

"… Ruby and I aren't sisters." Yang said, after a long moment "Not full sisters anyway… We're half-sisters. But the only mom I ever had was Summer, Ruby's mom."

Blake slowly swiveled her head back up to her partner. Her red eye's now growing puffy too.

"Summer was basically super-mom." Yang said "She was everything you could've wanted from a mom and then some. She baked awesome cookies, told you stories when you were sick, and kissed your booboos better… But when I was, like, maybe seven, she left on a mission… and she didn't come back. She left my dad a mess, and left us all to look out for each other. I wound up finding a photo of his old team… Because of that, I found out Summer wasn't my real mom. My dad had been with someone else, once, but she'd left not long after I was born, and left me with my dad."

Blake tilted her head curiously as she sipped her coffee. I listened silently; I could see in Yang's eyes how important this was to her.

"Because it was just me now, taking care of Ruby who wasn't even walking yet, I spent every second I could trying to find out about her. Every scrap of information I could worm out of my uncle, every paper that wasn't hidden, and every picture that wasn't stuffed somewhere… it led to me finding out about a place on Patch that was important to my mom and dad. The first real clue I'd ever found… and it caused me to do something stupid." Yang's voice filled with shame "I put Ruby in a wagon and went to go find her."

A jolt of primal worry that I didn't even know I had speared my stomach.

"Just a kid, not even ten years old, and a toddler." Yang said, looking more ashamed with each word "I dragged Ruby with me for hours. Getting cuts and bruises, tripping on the road, and by the time we got there, I just wanted to fall over and sleep… but we got there." Yang said "… And my mom wasn't there… But the Grimm were." I saw something flash in Yang's eyes for a moment. Not fear, but something old and frightened. Like recalling an old nightmare. "I can remember, staring into their glowing red eyes, and crying. I'd walked us into that, just two kids on some harebrained attempt to find my mom. I might as well have served us both on a silver platter."

Yang closed her eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath. When she opened them, the look that'd been in them and the shame on her face vanished.

"But we were lucky. My uncle came looking for us. He saved us at the last minute. Took us home. Had dad tear into me for doing something so stupid… and I've never forgotten it." Yang finished, then looked Blake in the eye "It remains one of my biggest regrets. Letting what I wanted to do blind me, put myself and Ruby in absolutely pointless danger… I still want to meet my mom, and I'm still looking for her. But I'll never make that mistake again."

Blake didn't say anything. She just placed both hands on her mug and clutched it tightly.

Yang approached her, and gently rested her hands on Blake's shoulders. "It's ok to want to make it right. It's ok, that you feel guilty, and don't know if you can talk about it. It's not ok to put yourself in pointless danger. Because if Torchwick showed up, right now? You'd die. Then there'd be nothing you could do to fix it."

"…But I…" Blake stuttered "I can't just keep doing nothing. Because that's what we're doing, waiting for Six, we're doing nothing."

"Waiting and doing nothing aren't the same thing." Yang said "We're getting ready for when it's time to do something. So when it is time, to go find Torchwick, to stop the White Fang, to go find my mom, we're ready. Doing nothing isn't the same."

"But… But I… I don't even know…" Blake rubbed her eyes blearily as a yawn escaped her again. She blinked hard, and looked down at the cup in her hands. Like she was having trouble focusing. "Why… why isn't…"

"Because I switched your coffee for decaf." I said.

Yang and Blake both turned to look at me. Yang completely surprised, while Blake looking like she was suffering from input lag.

"Sacrilege, I know." I said "I figured if I couldn't reason with you, limiting your caffeine intake would at least help you gain a more meaningful catnap."

Yang paused a moment, before giving me an amused, appreciative smile. Blake, input lag growing worse, finally managed the look of surprise Yang had previously. Before she could actually manage anything more than that though, her eyes rolled back into her head. The coffee mug clattered out of her hands and onto the floor. With Yang guiding her, she fell forward, softly leaning her weight against Yang.

"You… dick." Blake managed to huff out.

"You can curse me out later." I said "Sleep now, I'd rather deal with an awake and catty Blake than exhausted and mewling."

Blake mumbled a response to that, but it was eaten by Yang's clothes. Blake nuzzled her face into her partner's shoulder, and was out like a light. Blake's full weight eased into Yang as she went limp, not that it bothered Yang at all.

"… Well, I think this actually went better than I thought it would." Yang said, looking to me "Thanks."

"Someone needed to do something, glad you were at least paying attention." I nodded "You need a hand carrying her?"

"I've got her, she's actually pretty light." Yang said, reconfiguring herself so she could load Blake onto her back. "Get the door for me?"

"Gladly." I nodded, pointing to Blake's spill "Just let me clean the mess up first."

I wasted a moment, swiping up the spilled fake bean juice and then started back down the hall to the room. As we went, Blake naturally positioned herself on Yang's back, moving her arms to drape over Yang's shoulders and matching Yang's posture to make walking easier. Not that I was anyone to comment on the sort of thing, but she actually looked cute asleep, peaceful.

Then she nuzzled her face into the crux of Yang's neck, and I saw Yang straighten slightly, her eyes widening. I could just barely hear why. Blake was making a faint sound that could almost be mistaken for snoring. But it was too soft, too throaty. It was continuous too, rising in intensity as she exhaled but continuing as she inhaled regardless.

Yang and I looked at each other.

"No way." Yang said, eyeing Blake "Is she?"

"I think that's what it sounds like, yeah." I said "That. That is just precious."

Yang chuckled, and we carried on to the dorm room. I opened the door and closed it behind us as Yang laid Blake into bed, rolling her in a blanket. Blake snuggled in and dreamed a peaceful dream. Probably about a library filled with unlimited fish and catnip or something.

'Note to self: find catnip and mix into food.'

"You think we should tell anyone?" Yang asked.

"Like who, Nora?" I asked "That sounds like a catastrophe waiting to happen. Let them find out in their own time."

Yang chuckled warmly at that. "Why can't you just admit you like puns?"

"I don't." I answered.

"… She's not wrong." Yang said "We can't keep waiting for you to find something."

"But that's the plan, Yang." I told her "I'm doing my part, and doing it diligently. You just need to trust me."

Yang nodded at that, but said nothing. Instead, just turning to look out the window of our room.

"… Was that all true?" I asked "What you did?"

"… Yeah." Yang answered, still looking out the window "I was a stupid kid."

"You were a stupid kid who lost her mom, and wanted to go find her." I said "I side with your dad and uncle, but I understand why you did it."

"… Do you think it was because of me?" Yang asked.

"… Say what?" I asked.

"Do you think- Did I drive them away?" Yang asked "First my mom, then Summer… did I-"

"No." I said, flatly "If you're responsible for them leaving, then I'm missing a finger…" I raised my hands up and did a quick digit inspection. "… Nope still here."

Yang chuckled again.

"If Summer was the super-mom you say she was, then there's no way she left because of you." I said "Your mom on the other hand? Don't even give her the time of day. She's an idiot who abandoned probably the best thing that ever happened to her."

"Careful Six, you might make a girl blush." Yang joked.

"You're not responsible for their choices." I finished "The world's a cruel place, and sometimes, bad things happen for no reason. Sometimes the only thing you can do is keep moving."

"… I still want to find her." Yang said.

"Then I've no doubt you will. You managed to walk across Patch as a toddler, right?" I said "I'm pretty sure you'll track her down eventually."

Yang huffed a laugh still looking out the window. I had to wonder what she was thinking about, just a little bit. Was she thinking about Summer? Her mom? Blake?

Or was she thinking about that day, when she dragged Ruby into the woods?

I could see the way it had stuck with her. Making such a stupid mistake so young. She'd dragged someone who'd trusted her into danger, and hadn't even realized she was doing it. She was too young, too naïve. Recognizing danger can be hard sometimes, especially if you don't know to be looking for it. Like a kid lost in the woods. Like a Courier delivering the wrong package to the wrong place.

Like a pair of idiot teenagers, going into the bar of a notorious criminal…

"… Hey, Yang?" I started.

Yang turned and looked over her shoulder at me. Her face was warm and rosy in the summer sunlight, streaming through the window. She smiled softly and sweetly to me. But her lilac eyes were clouded and misty. The same as when she'd been talking to Blake. "… What's up?"

"… Nothing." I said "I'll tell you later."

---

Tragedy struck, powered through anyway.

Had a family member hurt themselves while working, so I've been having to sub-in for them for the past month (perks of a small business). They're fine and recovering, and I don't mind the extra scratch. Basically took a bat to my time again though, and has derailed any progress I've made elsewhere. Then, to salt the wound, I caught a cold from another family member, and have spent Christmas Eve shivering, hacking up a lung, and trying to avoid curling into a little ball.

Only reason I'm sharing this is because my fever addled brain is currently cooking. Makes me more inclined to ramble.

And the world's still crazy.

Someone get me an aspirin.

'Dasgun': '-'

'PoisonPen37': Delivered on Christmas, as promised.

'a54321': Thank you, always a pleasure.

'Spenge': Man, don't I know the feeling. Also: Pootis.

'SpatialYeti8': If you wish to duel me on the matters of the Grimmdark 41st Millennium, I welcome it. Be fore warned however: The wiki is a fickle thing.

'Gojosin': They actually were evening out for a bit there. Then the last month happened. Thank you for the warm wishes.

'darkromdemon': It always is, its just a matter of what I'm showing you. ;)

'PaladinSans': Cyberhound Mk III, personal companion model Variant C: Zwei

'Thepkrmgc': Ruby: "Dad, we can explain." Tai: "Does it involve Aliens?" Ruby: "... Yes."

'Rio_Skyron': Courage the Cowardly dog: Engraining itself into the nightmares of a generation of children.

'Necroncryptek': I understand some of it, at least. Fallout is a darker setting than most, especially in the first game. When you start to get into the guts of it, it's very easy to see how someone is supposed to wind up jaded and cynical. Yet, if the world is full of nothing but jaded and cynical people, especially ones in Six's position, Then nothing ever changes. Having a little optimism, or at least a more chipper attitude, goes a long way.

'B.J. Blazkowicz': 1: Six was de-aged back to the range of 16/17, though a surprisingly tall one. He tried explaining it to people, but they didn't believe him. 2:... I ain't touching that with a ten foot pole.

'Felix the Brave' (Formerly Lord Inquisitor Richard): I have, it does look pretty good. Given the assets used, I was getting Honest Hearts vibes. However, I'm leery on mods after trying to get through the Frontier. I couldn't tell if I was playing CoD or Fallout.

'Dklett': They're coming, don't you worry.

'Four Elemental': I believe we fixed Rubes' issues here, just a smidge.

'Eseer': The Dark one: "Alright Maggots, listen up. The Pecking Order goes like this-"

'Guest': Unfortunately, no, Ice Queendom takes place roughly during the events of Vol. 1, and while I'd call it a welcome addition to canon, it's a bit odd. Maybe I'll find a way to work some elements of it in, but the story as a whole would need to be made a standalone.

'Yuuji_Akira': Thank you for the support, and don't worry about the gushing. It's always pleasant to see how much people enjoy the work. :)

'Null_Proxy': Thank you, it's a balancing act.

'FastestGunInTheWest': A subject that, does indeed, need a little light shown on it.

'Zero': Never gonna run around, and, desert you.

'Ediros': I shall so endeavor to make sure future Volumes alter the course of things, even if slightly. Some people do find it important, or at least interesting to read about Six's past. I do however concede that, if there's something that could be trimmed if it was ever required, The Flashbacks are not integral. Only reason I respond via these A/N rather than PMs is because, if someone asks a question in a review, I'd like to at least give a public response to it, incase someone else read it and was curious. Necessary, or logical? Maybe not. But it's what I do. I've no problem with a private conversation if you wish to have one however.

Alright, my brain is reaching the point where it want's to shut down. I going to actually go get some sleep after I upload this. Hopefully in another day or two, I'll be right as rain.

This Fanfic is Brought to you by Deathstalker's Delight Premium Coffee: 'The most potent coffee on Remnant, responsible for 2 out of 5 Caffeine based fatalities.

Adios.

-Ash