"Tilt thy head back."

Ruby sighed, but complied. A brush ran through her hair— attempted to. It got snagged instantly.

"Good god, dost thou ever brush?"

Ruby shrugged. "Not regularly."

"I thought ye birds wert keen on grooming."

"Not even trying with the Valish today, eh?"

"Nay. Thou preferest this way, I know."

"Fift—"

"Do not tilt thy head."

"Sorry," Ruby said instinctively, wincing as the brush worked through a nast knot. She cleared her throat. "It's a fifty-fifty."

"And today be the 'I like the dialect your brother pranked you for life with' fifty."

For some godforsaken reason, the ease with which she shifted both verbiage and tone made Ruby's face warm. "Whatever."

Weiss snorted. "Whatever."

Ruby had to smash her lips into a line to prevent a smile. She knew Weiss knew, but it's the thought that counts. "My hair is a bastard," Ruby redirected. "If it wasn't one of the few things I liked about me, I'd cut it all off."

Weiss yanked her way through another knot and frowned. "Verily?"

"Why exactly are you brushing my hair?"

"Too unique," Weiss answered liefully. "'Tis no lie! Thou'rt highly identifiable ."

"You just wanted to."

"What if I did!" Weiss whined, purposefully jerking the brush through her partner's tangles. "Thy locks art so long."

"It's not that long."

"'Tis long enough that I repeatedly forget how long it be until…" Weiss dragged the brush from Ruby's forehead, untangling her from front to back with a lot less aggression. She didn't pick back up from where she'd trailed off, so Ruby sought her expression.

Weiss was staring down at her hair, watching herself lift a handful of crimson-shot onyx. She passed the brush over it, her stellar eye following each lock as it was separated and organized. She let the hair slip over the side of her hand like a waterfall. She watched it. Her eyes were softer than Ruby had ever seen. Her lips mouthed something.

The syllables she didn't say stoked a live itch in Ruby's throat. "Kksch—" what the fuck was that sound supposed to be? "K-kschv—"

Weiss chortled. "Mmm, cravest assistance?"

"Kkh— k-schv— what fucking language is this?"

"Mine," Weiss answered, drowning the tic beneath a siphoning touch to Ruby's temple. "The one from Atlas."

"At—"

"N-no, no, er, common misconception," Weiss said. "Since the Second Founding War, we have been speaking—"

She said something that started with a 'p'-adjacent sound, then something like a 'hwa' or a 'ois', then did something complicated with her tongue that was like a 'tstch' before ending with a sound close to 'ski'. Even over the course of one word, her shrill and scrapey voice became audibly more comfortable and honeyed— slightly nasal, too, which was funny.

When Weiss saw her look in the mirror— an uncomprehending one, surely— she pursed her lips. "Mantell. From Mantle," she explained more lamely. "Atlicht didst perish with the nation."

"Huh," Ruby 'huh'd— and genuinely, it was information she probably knew somewhere deep in her brain, but learning from someone with a personal attachment to the history is always more interesting. "Thanks for telling me, Weiss."

Weiss looked at her in surprise. The thanks kinda surprised Ruby herself, honestly.

Diverting from having a real emotion with Weiss, Ruby asked: "But I'd guess that your name is…"

"From Atlas, yes."

"Like… a royal family, or?"

"Thinkest me a genuine princess?"

Ruby had an immediate thought that sucked to have around someone who could read her mind.

"Seriously?"

"Sorry."

"'Tis … fine."

There was a long pause, filled mostly by the sound of Weiss struggling with Ruby's hair until Weiss decided to add to it.

"'Tis an old Atlas name. My father thought such a traditional surname would endow us great renown." She scowled. "He was, unfortunately, correct."

Ruby was again reminded that her partner grew up in a cult, which was something they kept miraculously avoiding. She checked her phone, awkwardly bringing it up to her tilted-back face just to check the time. She had a few hours. Fuck it. "Weiss, uh… do you wanna talk?"

Weiss met her eyes through the mirror. She left the brush in one of Ruby's tangles, turned around, locked the door from the bathroom to the dorm, and returned to continue brushing. "Aye. I do."

Ruby winced as she worked through a knot. Weiss' lips puckered in focus.

Neither of them talked.

"You start."

Weiss snorted. "Thinkest me a dullard? Thou wilt start."

Ruby stared at her. Weiss stared back, her gaze harder than concrete. She made another long front-to-back stroke through Ruby's hair.

"Well? Art thou a coward?"

Ruby glared. "No," she grumbled slowly. "I just have… a lot. Maybe I'm internally unpacking so I can trauma-dump it all at once."

"I know that is not the case, idiot."

Ruby huffed. She stared at Weiss as intimidatingly as she could for another few minutes, but it achieved nothing and Weiss eventually made it all the way through Ruby's tangled nest (har-har) of hair. Conceding, Ruby started.

Things covered by Ruby Florabel Branwen Rose (regarding her 'traumatic backstory'):

The Beginning: things from early childhood, ie: mom's training (which her body was not at all ready for), mum's training (which her soul was not at all ready for), Uncle Tai's presence (which made it abundantly clear that Ruby's experience was neither good nor normal, yet she was stuck with it, which inspired a bone-deep dread that never left her spirit), uncle Qrow's presence (which was mostly very sad since he clearly pined for Tai), and the multiple disciplinary issues from school (which was mostly from racism, not her fault, and/or completely overblown).

The Middle: things from early adolescence, ie: mom's training (which started to genuinely injure them both; could you imagine how it feels to hurt your own mother?), mum's training (which instilled a nasty habit of overstudying that inspired many bouts of insomnia), Yang's sisterhood (which Summer and Raven both overused as an excuse to have Ruby spar with someone closer to her age, despite Tai never being particularly okay with it), uncle Qrow's lack of presence (which sucked, because he was just a cool and normal drunk-uncle kinda figure who always took Ruby to do fun shit; Ruby was pretty sure he picked up his Huntsman work back up to get away from Tai), and the multiple disciplinary issues from school (which inspired a lot of domestic screaming matches).

The Thing Mom Did: the thing that mom did— spending all her tuition money while drunk.

Weiss' hands stopped, her fingers holding three sets of strands for Ruby's braid.

"Thy mother did what?"

Ruby shrugged. "Spent all my tuition money?"

Weiss slowly crossed one strand over the middle. "Floraby, that is not normal."

"The fuck did you just call me?"

"Er, Rubel."

"What?"

"Thine own mother hath ruined thy future! I— I could tell those two had some kind of dysfunction, but that is… god."

Ruby stared at her partner. "Don't talk about my moms like that."

Weiss flinched. "B-but—"

"You don't get to talk shit until I know your…" Ruby waggled her fingers. "Stuff. Why're you braiding my hair, anyways? I can just put it in a bun or something."

"God forbid I make thy nest presentable."

"Way too many scissors in my immediate vicinity for you to be making bird jokes."

"Thinkest thou wilt carve out mine heart with scissors?"

"Don't make it sound so romantic, princess."

Weiss harrumphed, but Ruby could see the hint of red threatening her papery face. She sighed.

"Anyway, in terms of my weaknesses," Weiss looked up from the braiding with sharp interest, but deftly continued intertwining the strands as her partner spoke. "I've got basically no long-term stamina, my mom said I jump at feints, and my legs are really easy to knock out from under me— assuming you could hit them, that is."

"That's… it?"

Ruby rolled her eyes and shrugged. "Uh, yeah, you seemed to know everything else already. Now gimme all your juicy deets."

Weiss harrumphed. "I was born to a Fourth cult in Atlas. I have a poor tolerance for the cold, I have a very large blind spot, and…" she motioned over herself. "Everything else."

Ruby cocked an eyebrow. To think she had the audacity to 'that's it?' her.

"What wouldst thou prefer I say?"

"I gave you my traumatic backstory," Ruby argued. "I deserve yours."

"Deserve?"

"Yeah. Deserve."

Weiss sneered, and Ruby felt her finished braid slap between her shoulder blades. She turned to look at it.

"Oh damn," she muttered, admiring hair that'd never been so silken before, all tied into a braid that was almost too perfect. With her whole face exposed and not a single lock protruding over it, Ruby had to admit that, for once, she might (theoretically) be described adjacently to something like 'dashing', especially with the mask making her look all dark and mysterious. To someone else. Maybe. Someone like Weiss who only had one eye, was dumb enough to have sex with Ruby, and was still a Fourth despite…

"Hey, Weiss?"

"Aye?"

"Are you, like, still a Fourth-Archivist?"

The scant remnants of a blush— plus whatever color may have been diluting Weiss' radioactive pallor— drained away. "I… of course I am."

Ruby turned to look at her, but Weiss averted her eyes. Ruby slipped the mask down off her fave. "I just mean… we've been killing a lot of Fourths. And you've really, uh… bent the rules with me, if you… catch my, uh…"

Weiss crossed her arms over her middle. She said nothing.

"I-it's okay, dude," Ruby acquiesced. "You…"

"I am a firm believer," were Weiss' words, delivered in Weiss' voice, and yet they sounded not at all like Weiss herself. "The place of Fourths is above all beasts and men. This much I know."

"Shit, you were below—"

Weiss shot a glare that punched right through her partner.

Maybe, for anyone else, Ruby would be mad. Maybe she was still a little mad— in the insanity sense, because she should really be wearing Weiss' guts like claw-socks for still being racist— but she was more… sad? Annoyed? Disappointed? Or was that the other heart in her chest?

"Get up, Ruby."

And now she was saying it just to hurt her.

"We haven't much time before the deal," Weiss stated, opening the bathroom door. "Come. Let us get thee dressed."

As soon as Ruby stepped out of the bathroom, she was blinded by fabric. Ruby slapped the cloth away from her face, grabbing and holding it out.

"What the hell is this?"

"Turn it around, idiot."

Ruby turned it—

"No, rotate."

Ruby rotated it. "I still don't know what this is."

"'Tis a cloak, Ruby."

"A… cape?"

"A cloak, Ruby," Weiss repeated, growling. "It mantles thy shoulders, covering the front and the back, complete with an enshrouding hood. Couldst thou possibly guess why such a garment would benefit our goals?"

"Our?"

"Yes, Ruby. Our. Unless thou wouldst prefer to launder thy criminal acts through thine own device."

Ruby deadpanned. "I genuinely would."

Weiss rolled her one good eye. Her shitty one did something too. "Oh, of course. My apologies," she bowed deeply. "How could I forget thy desire to enter federal imprisonment— that or be expelled and sent back to thy parents who thou lovest so, so much."

Ruby put on the cloak, settled it around her shoulders, and slapped Weiss in the face. "I told you not to talk about my parents until you told me something, and you didn't tell me shit."

Weiss rubbed her cheek, wiping the bloodied corner of her lip on her ring finger. "My mother died in a car crash."

Oh, Ruby already knew that.

"And how is that?"

Fuck. "By… going through your… personal… dossier?"

Weiss hummed as if Ruby couldn't feel the rage spearing through her amalgam heart. "And by what fortune didst thou come upon such…" her bad eye twitched. "That?"

Ruby cringed. "Do you wanna fight about this before or after the deal?"

The pensive silence between Ruby and her partner lasted for roughly an eternity, and all Ruby could do was think very hard about Weiss' sword, the cloak, the room, the concept of titties, literally anything that would keep her mind away from—

"Fine," Weiss acquiesced. "Whatever."

Ruby sighed.

"Now put thy mask back on. Take yon briefcase 'neath thy bed."

"Briefcase?" Ruby pulled the thing in question out from under the bed and flipped it around incredulously. "This isn't gonna fit all the bullets, dude."

"I know that."

"Then what is it?"

"A bomb."

Ruby barked out a laugh, only slightly forced. "Ha! Bomb. Just like the movies— 'I've got a bomb, you can't shoot me! Give me all the stuff!' and it's, like, 'Ha! You idiots! This briefcase— it's pictures of your mother! Haha haa!'"

Weiss let out three puffs of air— was it supposed to be a chuckle? "Verily. Fake."

Ruby's heart told her the bomb was not fucking fake at all. "A-ah… haha!"

"Didst thou know that the nation of Vale disseminateth lore regarding the detailed construction of homemade explosives for the purpose of undermining other nations?"

"Uh…" holy fucking shit, was Weiss giving her a bomb? "Of course I did."

Weiss smirked. "Forsooth. Such a smart girl thou art."

Ruby gingerly lifted the briefcase, nearly dropping it when Weiss slapped her hard in the shoulder, laughing.

"'Twas a joke."

Ruby sighed. She set the briefcase on her bed and moved to open it, but Weiss grabbed her wrist and snatched it away, her expression one of gaping horror.

"Do. Not."

Ruby reached for it with her other hand.

"Leave it, Florabel!" Weiss commanded, grabbing her partner's wrist and yanking it away. "Good god, thou wilt be eviscerated!"

"What the fuck is in here!"

"A trap!" Weiss seethed through her teeth. "Do not open it unless I give thee the signal, and make sure 'tis opened towards the danger."

"Why do I even need a signal! I've done this plenty of times, I just leave the bullets and I get the money!"

"Nay, thou wert told to be there at 9! So we shall be there!"

"W—"

"Yes, we! Thou wilt make the deal, I shall watch thy back. Since somebody hath lost their requisitioned pistol, I have deigned to be graceful and take mine own out, specifically such that I may protect thee."

Weiss lifted the wolves-and-moon hoodie that Ruby had given her that first time, displaying the pistol tucked into the waistband of her jeans (which were new— did she get those herself?).

Weiss rolled her eyes and thrust her hoodie back down. Thank god. Because damn.

"Dost thou desire to be shot?"