"Where love rules there is no will to power, and where power predominates there love is lacking. The one is the shadow of the other."
- C. G. Jung
"You're finally here." the beast grunted, leveling a glare at her. Cinder suppressed her own scowl for a dangerous smile, taking the comment in stride.
"Apologies for the delay, I was held up elsewhere." she informed him. The gall the bull must have had to assume he was the only thing she was doing today, or even the most important, was beyond arrogance.
She bit back her ire, coming to sit at the other side of the table from the faunus.
"I'm here." it grunted. "Now say what you have to say."
Cinder suppressed an eyeroll. So impatient. So brutish. They were the easiest to steer, at least. She might prefer conversations with someone with more cunning, but the brawns served her interests just fine.
"I have a proposal you may be interested in," she told him, waiting for the beast to interrupt.
And like clockwork…
"I'm here because our mutual backer asked me to do as you request, not to be pitched to." it growled.
"Asked, or ordered?" She prodded with a mocking smile. He'd get worked up at her, but the sentiment would stick with him more than his annoyance. "And I know you are, but what I present is a far greater opportunity. The White Fang is low on recruits."
He remained silent, which Cinder took to mean her information was accurate. Not that she'd doubted it, of course — it came from just about as close to the source as possible. That Perseus' own network volunteered information that would undermine him just because he had ordered they supply her with what she asked for… It was amusing, in a pathetic way. Should their partnership work out, it was a flaw she would need to correct.
Speaking of which…
"You want for manpower because radicalism among your kind is at an all time low. The situation is improving, more and more across Remnant the faunus have more to lose than to gain by joining your ranks. You're losing."
"Get to your point." the bovine huffed.
Cinder hid another scowl. She would have to make sure this one experienced some pain before she discarded him.
"My point is that there is a solution. A solution I will provide you with, in return for your cooperation."
Though they were alone in the room, the faunus glanced around as if to make sure no-one was listening in. Oh, the concerns of beasts…
"And what's that?" he asked, leaning forward on the table. "What is this solution you're offering?"
"It's simple." she crossed her legs, reclining gracefully in her seat. Ignoring the shiver of disgust as the thing's eyes were drawn to the valley of her breasts as her dress was drawn down was second nature, and she continued without pause. "Your issue is a decline in fervor, so I'll simply rekindle it. Your kind are drawn to your cause by perceived injustices; feeling you are under attack by humanity. To reinforce this fear, I'll simply make it true."
The bull stood with a loud snarl, "Excuse me?"
Cinder inspected her nails, the power surging underneath her skin primed to eviscerate the animal the moment it became more trouble than it was worth. "Anti-faunus violence." she elaborated. "Police brutality, unfair arrests, illegitimate use of force, human militias driving the faunus out by force, human gangs attacking faunus in the streets, all this and more in Atlas and Vale — televised of course. Published, too."
"Are you insane?" It snapped, gripping the handle of its blade. It would almost be cute, if it wasn't so insolent. "You're proposing the opposite of what the White Fang stands for."
"Have it your way." she said easily. "I won't do anything of the sort, and the White Fang will die a slow death. Humanity will still oppress your people, if a bit more subtly, and you'll be powerless to do anything about it. Or, alternatively, you allow me to show your people just how easily humanity can be turned to violence before it's too late, and they'll take up arms with the White Fang."
Of course, the humans would see it the other way. A gang fight breaking out would be the fault of the faunus for the humans, and the fault of the humans for the faunus. A faunus death at police hands would be excessive violence for the faunus, and faunus threatening the peace for humanity.
A faunus protest-turned-riot over the issue would happen to turn violent due to orders given by a police captain who'd sworn under oath he'd seen faunus with weapons, and the incident would start more protests, putting more humans on edge, causing more violence, and repeating the process until there were bands of militias roaming the streets. With a few careful strokes, in a couple weeks she'd barely need to do a thing.
She could tell, from the way the leader of the White Fang stood stock still, that he was considering her words.
"Why would you want to do this?" he asked.
"It's in my best interests, for future projects, that the White Fang is both strong and endeared to me. Of course, this plan doesn't work without your cooperation; The White Fang must respond to the human injustice with action." to perpetuate the cycle, she decided not to add.
"I need some time to think about this." he told her eventually.
Cinder gestured easily at the door. "Please, sleep on it. I expect a decision by the end of tomorrow."
He snarled at her, his sword inching just a bit further out of its sheath. "I'll tell you when I've made my decision. You'll wait for it, human."
"Oh, dear Adam." she smiled venomously, standing from her chair and beginning to approach him. "That will not be our relationship."
The faunus' gaze snapped to its waist, where the handle of his blade and his hand had been encased in ice, frozen to the sheath. The bull's feet were similarly encased, leaving it to petulantly struggle for a moment before Cinder reached him and rested her hand against his cheek. The beast recoiled and called out as its aura sizzled, the only thing stopping its flesh from slowly melting as her hand grew hotter.
She gently released his face, allowing it one last mocking smile before sauntering out. "I await your decision by the end of the day. I'll forward you your instructions to be carried out first thing tomorrow morning."
She dropped her smile once she was out the doors, brushing her hand off on her dress and allowing her disgust to come to the forefront. She strode down the halls and out the front door of the seedy building, climbing into the back of her car and reclining. Mercury didn't wait a moment and took off calmly down the road, leaving her meeting behind them.
"Welcome back, mistress." Emerald greeted her, a courtesy Cinder rewarded with a neutral glance before pulling out her scroll and sending updated instructions to the other pieces on her board to move their schedule up. They'd start tomorrow.
She cared little for the White Fang in truth. No, her goal for this little project was far more important than a half-baked militia of animals. But the faunus would serve to be the spark to light the flame that would forge her throne. Chaos and division — those were the steps she would ascend upon.
Tapping send, Cinder closed her scroll and let it balance on the side of her hand.
The faunus would provoke the humans. The humans would retaliate against the faunus. The Faunus would grow outraged at the humans. The breakdown of law and order everywhere Perseus wasn't would provide the perfect proof for her to finally convince him that the denizens of Remnant were only safe under his firm grip.
Once he'd finally united the kingdoms, well… resentment had always simmered between the conquered and the conqueror. Resentment always would simmer.
And Cinder, in the perfect position to direct the rebel elements from the very beginning, would decide. She alone would hold the balance. She could satisfy her mistress and unleash chaos and division throughout the world, or she could rule behind Perseus, slowly consolidating power, ensnaring his heart and mind.
The scroll wobbled, feebly teetering to the right.
Yes, she would absorb the power of the final two maidens, they would gather the relics, and she would stand as a goddess beside him, pulling his strings every which way. She would not make the mistake her mistress had — at such a stage, any attempt to get rid of him would prove disastrous. They would crush Ozma and Salem, ruling with the absolute power of all of humanity and the gods united as emperor and empress of heaven and Remnant. The rebel elements, misguided and separated, would be brutally crushed.
The scroll wobbled to the left.
Or, once he'd conquered Remnant, he'd snub her. He'd take the relics and the maidens for himself. He'd refuse to grant her the absolute power she was owed, thinking he could continue to rule without her grace.
The concerted effort of rebellions across Remnant would rise to depose him, and though they may well fail they would cause enough chaos, bloodshed, and fear to incite a flood of grimm like Remnant had never seen.
Salem would reward her handsomely with the powers of the remaining maidens and domination over whatever was left of humanity once her revenge had been fulfilled.
Cinder watched with eyes of opposing elements of fire and ice as the small piece of plastic teetered precariously, swaying to and fro with the movement of the vehicle. She waited for the right moment, until it was tilted dangerously far in one direction, and tapped it ever so slightly.
Under Cinder's monochromatic gaze, the scroll fell.
Percy sat silently in a cushioned seat, doing something he'd been doing far, far too often recently.
Despite its relatively numerous occupants, the room was filled with a tense silence. Because even if they didn't know, the others in the room probably had a good guess at what it was Percy was doing.
His gaze unflinchingly locked on Irving Malachite, Percy pondered killing the man.
It reminded him of his ordeal with Sienna, with how calculated and calm the decision had been. There was no battle, no present danger to him, no rage at a betrayal, only cold, objective, pragmatic consideration.
But where he knew Sienna would certainly come back for him should he leave her alive, he didn't know that for Irving. In fact, he seriously doubted it. Staring down the clammy man repeatedly adjusting his robes, Percy's guess is that he would be content to resign leadership of the Malachite family and retire to a farm somewhere.
But if he decided not to…? The chance was far from zero; the Malachites were almost defined by their deception, after all. If he decided to talk, he knew too much. Far too much. Ignoring sentimentality, he'd have to be a complete idiot to let the man live. His predecessor, Lil' Miss, had only shown that imprisonment wouldn't work either. One jailbreak, one message slipping through, could spell disaster for Percy.
And yet… the man hadn't done anything wrong. Not really. He'd stayed loyal, he'd done as Percy asked — even if it was incompetently — and never betrayed him.
Percy didn't want to kill him, but he'd be a fool to let him live. Jacques would've berated his sentimentality, Raven would've laughed at him for being so weak, and Foley would've recommended he send the man on a flight that would never reach its destination.
Still, he found himself hesitating.
The room stayed as silent as he was. Irving shifted uncomfortably, Istos — the man's second in command, and by the end of this meeting his successor as the head of the Malachite clan — stood serenely behind him, and a number of the Malachite's senior members stood and sat around the room with several armed spiders. Percy spotted a small handful who were personally loyal to him, but the rest he didn't know. They were loyal to the Malachite name, and loyal to him through that, but otherwise owed him nothing. He was glad he'd kept up his combat prowess, because otherwise he might have been worried about being surrounded by enemies in a settlement like Hellinka Sive.
Knowing he'd dragged on this meeting for long enough without saying a word, Percy considered his options a final time. Arrest was out of the question, as was a house arrest. It'd just cause resentment, which would greatly increase the odds of Irving betraying his trust. So he'd either walk out of the room completely free, or not walk out at all.
Biting his cheek, Percy made his decision. Irving's many fuck-ups, while frustrating, hadn't actually cost Percy anything. The Atlas bomb hadn't gone off and the project had been recovered, the agent infiltrating Beacon had been caught by Cinder, and while annoying the additional attention at Vale's bullhead docks hadn't led to Ren's identity being revealed.
They'd all come so close, though. If a criminal had managed to gain access to the same school as Pyrrha without his knowledge, or if he hadn't had tinted windows and someone connected Ren to Wolke's death, or if Atlas had managed to use their bomb in Mistral, he couldn't have let the man live. Not only was he not sure he would've been able to stop himself from bisecting the man on the spot, but it'd be clear to everyone it was a removal for failure, and that would draw too many eyes looking to potentially exploit the bad blood between the two.
It was because of that — because he hadn't actually been set back by Irving's incompetence — that he could justify letting the man retire.
The silence of the room was broken by the soft, repetitive beeping of a scroll call. Percy didn't hide his annoyance. A decent amount of people had his scroll number at this point, but they were calling him instead of going through the proper channels or sending a message. If it wasn't a personal call from someone not in the business or incredibly urgent…
Pulling out his scroll, Percy frowned.
Cinder
Not personal, then. He suppressed his annoyance before hitting the accept button and pressing it to his ear — he owed Cinder more than he'd like to right now.
"Cinder." Percy greeted curtly. "What is it?"
"Perseus." Cinder greeted back. "About that thing we spoke about the other day. Another person using your network for their credentials popped up on my list less than an hour ago, and I thought you'd be interested to hear about it."
Percy frowned, eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. Another person? Doubtless she was talking about Beacon applicants, but if he recalled correctly from what Pyrrha'd said, initiation was in less than 24 hours. Glancing at a clock, Percy was even more confused. It was well into the evening in Mistral, and though it'd be earlier in Vale it was still a pretty last-minute addition.
"Go on." Percy prompted her, curious. That he'd be interested in the name implied he'd know whoever it was, but he couldn't for the life of him guess. How many seventeen-year-olds did he know, exactly? Outside of the people already applying to Beacon, he could only think of one-
"Blake Belladonna."
Percy felt sick, as his blood wanted to go cold with dread and hot with rage simultaneously. His organs seemed to fight in a war where they could only agree on one thing — that his heart should be beating faster.
"You're sure?" he hissed.
"Yes." she affirmed confidently.
"I see." he steadied his voice. "Thank you, Cinder. Is that all?"
"It is. I assume you weren't aware of this?"
"I was not." he confirmed flatly.
"I see. I expect you'll be straightening out your little spiders soon, then. I'm starting to get nervous about them being so intimately involved with our arrangement."
"Don't worry," he told her, eyes refocusing on Irving Malachite. "I'll take care of it. And thanks again — I'll make sure you're repaid in kind."
"Please do." she said, and with a beep the connection closed.
Percy shut his scroll, staring unflinchingly at the man squirming a few feet away.
Blake Belladonna had applied to Beacon, which meant he and Adam were about to have a very interesting meeting later tonight. Was Adam playing an angle here, or had she applied without his knowledge?
Was this what Adam had wanted to meet about so suddenly? He'd messaged Percy late last night to ask to meet, which was set for the middle of the night tonight — he found it likely, considering the timing.
At least Adam wasn't trying to keep it from him, but Percy wouldn't stand for it either way.
But that was then, and this was now.
There were precious few hours until Beacon's initiation started. Precious few hours to stop Blake from reaching Beacon, and keep her within his reach. If she made it to Beacon, he was helpless to do anything without pissing off Ozpin and causing an international incident. That was still an option considering just how important Blake Belladonna was to keeping the White Fang and Menagerie both in check, but not one he'd like to be forced to consider.
"I came here to discuss your myriad failures over the last several weeks." Percy finally spoke, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Your information on the Atlas bomb was incorrect, you allowed news to spread of my arrival in Vale, you forged transcripts for an unknown student to get into Beacon where you know my student is attending-"
"We received no order to turn away-"
"I'm fucking talking!" he snapped, slamming a hand into the arm rest as lightning flashed through the blinds in the corner, echoed by violent thunder rolling through the room. "You put the people of Mistral at risk, you put me at risk, and you put my protege at risk. Until recently, I was planning on forgiving your incompetence and allowing you to retire into obscurity. A few moments ago, I was informed that Blake Belladonna received forged transcripts to attend Beacon." Irving's face drained of blood, and Percy knew he understood exactly what that meant. "I wasn't told by you, or a spider, or any Malachite, but by a third party entirely, as is the case for your other lapses. I won't tolerate such consistent and harsh failure."
Irving leaped from his seat and lunged for the door behind him, but to Percy he might as well have been moving in slow motion.
"Seize him." Percy hadn't spoken, but Istos, standing perfectly still where he had been, spoke calmly. The spiders by the door seized Irving's arms, and he struggled in vain.
"Let me go! I command you! Release me!" he screamed, and Percy stood. Irving running had made this easier, if nothing else. He would've hated having to put the man down if he'd sat there and taken it gracefully — it would've meant he was likely wrong, and Irving would have remained diligent to the end..
Instead he squealed and thrashed like an animal caught in a trap, and Percy knew his secrets would've been forfeit the moment Irving had a gun to his head, would he have been left to live in peace.
People revealed their true nature, this close to death. Percy himself rejected death, but fought to repel it while Irving ran from it.
"On his knees." Percy ordered, and the two holding him hesitated for a moment until Istos nodded. He really had secured them for himself, and most of the others in the room if their reactions were anything to go by.
Istos would serve better than his predecessor, indeed. That was a double edged sword, he knew, but one that could be dulled later.
"I'll hear your final words." Percy told the man solemnly, uncapping Riptide.
"Please! I'll do whatever you want! I've been loyal, I deserve a chance to-" Riptide sprouted from the back of his neck, severing the brain stem and killing the man instantly. It was as near painless as Percy could make it, from this angle.
Percy withdrew Riptide and capped it, taking a step back to avoid the torrent of crimson. "I name you the head of the clan Malachite, Istos." Percy told the man, turning his gaze over the room at large. "You all answer to him."
Observing their reactions, it didn't look like they needed much convincing. The ones that weren't in his pocket were either in Istos' or had no love for Irving, because there was barely a reaction among the gathered family members and spiders.
Once again, the quiet was disrupted by the beep of Percy's scroll. Annoyed, he pulled it out to find the caller only annoyed him more.
"Clean this up." Percy nodded to Istos, before making his way out of the room and down the hall, where he accepted the scroll call.
"Adam." Percy answered.
"Perseus. I'm calling to let you know I had to cancel our meeting. We still need to talk, but… something came up. An emergency that requires me in Vale."
Percy frowned harshly. "Is it about Blake?"
There was a stillness on the other end of the line.
"How did you- Did you talk her into this!?" Adam's voice was apoplectic.
"Calm down, Adam. I just received word she was added to Beacon's list of applicants."
"She what!?"
Percy tensed. "Did you not know? I figured this was a plan of yours."
"No." he snapped. "Blake… disappeared. During a mission."
Percy scowled violently. "She's going to Beacon. Find her."
"I will." Percy heard a dangerous undertone to the man's voice, a tone Percy knew very well.
"Find her before she gets to Beacon, Adam. The moment she steps foot onto Beacon's property, we can't do a thing."
"I'll find her, and I'll bring her back whether she's at Beacon or not."
"No!" Percy snapped. "You won't! Beacon is off limits, and so are its students. If she gets in it's over, so make sure you find her before that happens."
"I won't let her-"
"You'll do as I say!" Percy interrupted him. "I have an arrangement with Ozpin. Beacon's not to be touched." He could consider taking Blake back from Beacon himself or by more subtle means, but the White Fang launching an assault on Beacon or kidnapping one of their students was the height of foolishness. Not only would it near certainly fail and Ozpin would suddenly become a problem, but Vale and even the other academies might as well — it'd be a war, nigh guaranteed.
After ending the last one not much more than a month ago, Percy was in no rush to start another.
"Now go. You have less than a day. Whatever else you had to talk about, it can wait." Percy snapped his scroll shut and rested his head against a nearby wall, taking several deep breaths.
Calm. Things could be worse. She could have been killed, or have gone back to her parents. Wouldn't that be a problem.
Lifting his head slightly and resting his forehead a bit higher on the wall, Percy felt his heart rate finally slow to something resembling a resting rate. He'd never gotten stressed this easily before, what was wrong with him lately? First the incident with Irving in front of Winter was apparently the angriest Gillian had seen him, then he'd snapped at Kali and Ghira when he'd seen them in Atlas, just now there was his rage at Irving enough to convince him to kill the man, and seconds ago he was shouting himself hoarse over scroll calls in the middle of an empty hallway.
He sighed, pushing off the wall. He could address his shortening fuse another time, right now he had more meetings in south Mistral, and then he had a flight to catch to the grimmlands as part of his perpetual effort to keep his skills and his body from deteriorating.
Walking back to the room where he'd left the Malachites, Percy strode in to find nothing but a stain where Irving had been, three women on their knees scrubbing at the stain as the low din of conversation filled the rest of the room.
That conversation stopped when Percy entered, but he didn't plan to say for long.
"Find Blake Belladonna." Percy ordered, meeting Istos' eyes.
"It will be done." Istos lowered his head in reverence.
With a final glance around the room, Percy nodded to the man and left. At least this time there was a chance he'd hear back with some good news.
"Restraining orders don't work on the sort of people that you put restraining orders on."
- Jordan Peterson
Blake didn't let herself relax until she set foot on Beacon's airship, and even then she didn't truly let her guard down for the duration of the ride.
She sat tersely in the corner, arms crossed and staring suspiciously at anyone that got near. There were a lot more people than she'd expected to be there, considering the amount of students that would be accepted. It was no secret that the enormous resources of the huntsman academies went to precious few huntsmen in training that were accepted each year, Beacon least of all.
Leaning on a heater, Blake took a book out of her overnight bag and did her best to relax. Adam couldn't get her here, she told herself. She wished she didn't have to consider that he might send people after her, but what they'd done yesterday…
There was no way to justify it, and she knew she couldn't throw this one at the feet of Perseus. It had been Adam, plain and simple.
If she was anywhere else, he would find her. If she went to the slums of Vale, or the deserts of Vacuo, the jungles of Menagerie, the tundras of Atlas, the mountains of Mistral — anywhere else, she wouldn't have been safe.
Beacon was the one place on Remnant he couldn't touch, and so the one place Blake knew she'd be safe. That was why she had to succeed in initiation — if she didn't there wouldn't be anywhere else to go.
But still, that didn't stop her from eyeing the other huntsman hopefuls that meandered around their airship gazing out the windows and gathering around the holo screens. Any one of them could be White Fang — she couldn't let her guard down for a moment until she stood before Beacon's towers.
Several tense minutes of failing at her attempt to read her book passed, and Blake didn't let the remaining tension fall from her shoulders until she'd set her first foot onto solid ground on the cliffs of Beacon.
Letting out a deep sigh, Blake hefted her bag on her shoulder and made her way towards Beacon's towers, skirting around the crowds of prospective students meandering around the courtyard.
It was hard to miss the large procession of white suitcases hauled by suited men, and it only took a moment of glancing around to find the heiress herself — Weiss Schnee. The bags were marked with the iconic Schnee snowflake, which Blake found a little odd considering recent events. Being associated with the SDC hadn't been something to be proud of in a long time, but now there wasn't even the prestige to back the name.
She made sure to keep a wide berth. While the heiress definitely shouldn't recognize her, that didn't mean she wanted anything to do with the girl.
Unfortunately, keeping to the side of the path proved to be a poor choice as well.
"Yang!" Blake looked over to see what the commotion was about, before snapping her gaze away near immediately.
"C'mon Pyrrha, help me out here!"
Pyrrha Nikos, four time Mistral regional champion, newly named Baroness of Argus, and his student concealed a giggle behind her hand. "Well Ruby, I think you should listen to your sister. Beacon is a chance to make new friends."
The small one sagged dejectedly. "Awww, not you too Pyrrha! I bet you and Yang are gonna be on a team!"
Pyrrha shrugged. "I can't speak for Yang, but I plan to let the chips fall where they may."
Blake didn't hear the rest, because she was too busy walking at a snail's pace to keep her distance. Once again the chances of Pyrrha Nikos recognizing her were next to zero, but Blake wanted to keep a ten foot pole between them. The fewer connections she had with her old life the better — students of maybe-not-as-violent-as-first-assumed crime-lords-turned-monarchs included — though she was beginning to dread the odds of accomplishing that goal. There was no way Pyrrha Nikos would fail out of initiation, and Weiss Schnee had almost certainly had private tutors all her life, and definitely had access to incredible quantities and varieties of dust.
So, of the small handful of students that would be making it through, she just had to somehow avoid getting on a team with two of them, and then avoid them at every given opportunity after that… while they were all attending the same classes for four years. She'd have to avoid the other two walking with Pyrrha, too, now that she thought about it. If they ended up on Blake's team, and they were friends with Pyrrha…
This was going to be harder than she'd anticipated.
"Give me permission to search Beacon's airships." Adam didn't even wait until the door was fully open before verbally besieging Percy, on his feet and hovering around Percy walking into the room.
Percy shot him a glare, shutting the door behind him. "Take a damn seat, Adam. Standing won't let you get her back any faster."
The man's fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly, but he did as he was bid and sat in one of the seats in Junior's office.
Percy accepted a coffee from Roman gratefully. He just tipped his hat back, retreating to his own seat in the relatively small room — relatively, that was, for the five people in the room.
Percy took his own seat, letting the relaxing sensation of the hot coffee calm his nerves. He'd barely gotten four hours of sleep since he'd returned from the grimmlands early that morning.
"She's already at Beacon." Percy told Adam once he was done taking his drink. "My people only spotted her on security footage once she was already boarding a Beacon ship. She's gone."
Adam leaped to his feet again with a snarl of fury, only to be shoved back down by the end of Roman's cane. "The bossman told you to sit, animal. Be a good pet."
The only thing he succeeded in was causing Adam to leap to his feet again, his blade halfway out of its sheath before Neopolitan's blade was at his throat.
"That's enough. Roman, stop antagonizing him. Adam, control yourself."
Neo's blade was withdrawn with a wave of Roman's hand, and Adam sat back down with an audible grinding of teeth.
"I'm going to Beacon." Adam snarled. "I'll get her back."
"No, you're not." Percy told him. "Beacon's off limits. Besides, attacking a huntsman academy won't exactly endear you to hearts or minds. I'll see about recovering her, but there will be no White Fang that step foot on Beacon's grounds."
The sound of molars gritting together didn't cease, but Adam didn't respond verbally either, so Percy took it as as much confirmation as he'd get.
"Junior," Percy called, prompting the man behind his desk to signal he was listening with a short hum. "How are preparations for the Vytal festival coming?"
That caused him to grin. "Grand. I have the sisters helping out organizing, and the cops are off our back entirely — politicians have laid off too. Wolke being gone is doing real well for business."
Percy shared the man's grin, though with somewhat less enthusiasm. Though the day-to-day was far beneath his concern, the Valean underground as a whole was still a pretty large feather in his cap. If things were going poorly, that might mean competitors would spring up and he'd have a problem on his hands.
"Though…" spoke up Roman, trailing off. "If violence like at that union rally yesterday becomes a trend, more politicians will be forced to crack down."
"Violence at a Union rally?" Percy asked, vaguely interested. Most unions were under the Xiong clan's protection, after all.
Junior scowled. "There were some faunus agitators at a union rally yesterday morning. They were peaceful but one of the protection swore up and down they saw one aiming a pistol, and took em' down. Things turned violent quickly. It's all over the news, but it's being blamed on a misfire. It'll go away soon enough."
Percy nodded. "Make sure it does, and make sure it doesn't happen again. We don't want to give the council too much pressure to start cracking down. I'm less concerned about them actually following through with it, and more concerned with what happens come election season if they don't."
Junior nodded he understood, and Percy stood from his seat. "Roman, walk with me. I want to chat about a student you helped get forged transcripts before I leave." Roman stood and followed him to the exit, Neo in tow. Percy paused before the exit, looking back at Adam, who had remained silent through the discussion.
"Actually, Adam, didn't you have something you wanted to talk to me about?"
The bull faunus hesitated, glancing around at the other occupants of the room briefly, before shaking his head. "It… was about Blake. It's irrelevant now."
Percy frowned, "Got it. I'll keep you in the loop with her. If nothing else, I'll be able to check up on her during the Vytal tournament."
Turning, Percy left with Roman joining him.
That did remind him. With the Vytal tournament coming up, that'd be a damn good excuse to spend some time at Beacon — it'd necessitate it, almost.
He suppressed a sigh. Well, now he had a reason to be there other than looking for the vault of choice, and trying to work things out with Ozpin, and seeing Pyrrha, and keeping an eye on Winter's sister, and making sure Ren and his friend were doing alright, and keeping up with Yang…
Well, whatever else it would be, at least his upcoming stay at Beacon wouldn't be boring.
Hope you all enjoyed! I've been goin sicko mode recently, and while I'm not changing the schedule atm because idk how long-term this is, I've got a good 3 chapters pre-written, (though we're officially back on the 1st and 15th schedule!) as opposed to my normal routine of staying awake to do about half of it the night before (even if the plot is outlined well ahead of time).
Workload irl has dropped a lot recently, so I'm able to both do that and also find some time to read for once. Went back and read Coeur's Forged Destiny - which had never really caught my interest - before realizing I could not put it down. Read the whole 1,109,953 words in 5 days, then reread Arc Royale and From Beyond in three days, which comes out to just under 200k words a day for over a week. Now I'm readin One Good Turn, (at a less intense pace) and then after that I'll prolly re-read Not this time, Fate - basically, I'm on a Coeur binge recently. It's givin' me the motivation to write at least, and I'm glad to do it now that I can afford the time to, in no small part thanks to my pat-rons.
Ik a lot of people who read this have never watched or read anything else from RWBY, but even if that's you I can't recommend taking a look at Coeur's profile enough - for the sheer quantity of entertainment, if nothing else. I know no author is for everybody, but definitely a majority of the "can't put it down" stories I've read in the last few years have been his work, as well as 90% of the reading I do day-to-day now considering his update schedule. You can find him on my favorites list.
Whelp that's all. Discord and pat-reon are both on my profile. Thanks for all the reviews last week, I'll keep up with replying to every review I get - though I'll try and be a bit quicker this time.
See you all on March 1