"I can't believe she did that." Weiss, through barely restrained anger, nearly snapped her pencil in half. Ruby didn't seem to know what to do herself, based on her voice anyway.

"Maybe you made her mad?"

"I have done literally nothing to her! What is there to be mad about?"

"Who knows?" Muttered Yang, sheepish enough that she could almost hear Weiss's neck crack from the sudden jolt.

"What did you do?"

"Hmm? Me?"

"Speak."

"Ouch..." Yang seemed to pitter patter, or so one could guess, before muttering slowly. "I might have mentioned your name last night with Professor P."

"My name? What are you..." And thus came the ding of realization. "Don't tell me?"

They would continue to argue, but by that point, Mint had to take her unfortunate leave. A playful smirk slipped over her lips as she thumbed the doll just under her skirt, which itself laid peacefully in a small pouch. She almost had all of them now; just one more to go. Ironically, the final act had been what stifled her march.

Once upon a time, amongst Vale's lost and forgotten, a game would be upheld every coming Vytal Festival. From young to old, merry would be made of their own suffering, and tribulations of mild discomfort would be shared throughout the bodies of everyone around, all before the first day of excitement.

Today marked the last day of mischief, as tomorrow began the festivities officially with the resounding excitement of kids beating the heck out of each other - a pastime many people appeared to see no issue in.

Normally, she'd be done her rounds by now; having spooked most everyone who dared take a drink during the dance covered her contribution to the student body, and now, nearly all of Team RWBY were hit with her efforts. Ruby, the one she favored most, got off the easiest with merely an embarrassing costume, Yang ended up playing herself shortly after, and now Weiss had tasted a slather of golden mud.

This left the most difficult option of all: Blake Belladonna.

Things had been easier before, but now came the challenge. The dance's surprise costume party justified Ruby's welcome into the season, and Yang mentioning Weiss's name had been enough to remind her that most of the food made during their own agony involved the use of slippery fats, which she so desperately needed to share. Blake, though? Mint had nothing. No excuses. No sneaky little ways to introduce mayhem. No triggers or inspirations. Zilch.

And so came the question: how to topple Blake personally?

She seemed the quiet type; both deviously observant and quick to react. Ruby's shyness made for excellent fun, and Weiss's bratty determination towards professionalism practically begged to be uprooted. Yang didn't need any more than Professor Port; heck, she herself still felt the sting in her arms, but it was all in good fun - even if the former didn't know. Blake... What facet of personality could she possibly abuse to paint a truly wonderful portrait?

Mint carried these thoughts all the way to Roman, not asking for any aid or even telling him what she struggled with in mind, but instead she handed him the guardian who defended her dreams from rogue midnight recollections. The tradition belonged to a select few, all children once before, and unfortunately Roman held no responsibility towards it. A pity, as he could be fun in his own way.

"You certain about this?"

She nodded firmly.

Cinder Fall had been acting far too strange recently, and yes, the bitch had no reason to care about toys, but should anything happen in their room, Mint wanted her prized possession free from danger. Besides, tomorrow marked the start of the festival, and that alone she hoped would be enough to bring peaceful rest for tonight.

Her duty fulfilled and heart less heavy, Mint spun her pops right around and gave his ass a good old shove.

"Alright alright," he said, following it up with a brief but light hearted grumble. "I'm going."

Not once did he notice the sticky note taped to his back, nor the occasional giggles directed his way as he strolled. Okay, so maybe Blake hadn't been the only one left out, but Roman had been through enough already with Cinder constantly up their asses. A small name tag reading "Bozo" would be plenty for his introduction.

Some days she wondered if it was unfair on her part not to include him, but he never really cared for practical jokes to begin with; she didn't mind, as not everyone saw purpose in it. For her, and once upon a time others, it honed their skills of getting what they needed without being caught.

Mint, left all alone anew, merged into her place amongst the light crowd of people passing out the door and into the open air. Beyond the heads she spied the tree again, which for some strange and inexplicable reason had become a sort of sanctuary for her mind.

Perhaps a brief rest underneath its bark would yield some ideas.

While not a great or logical step towards solving her immediate predicament, basking under the sun appealed to her all on its own, and thus Mint leaned against the old woody. She exhaled hard, and her jelly limbs melted into the mold of grass and bark. Her head slumped to the side, propped up by a shoulder at most as she dozed in place; not wholly asleep, but pretty damn close.

Slumbering underneath shadows in the middle of the day. Surrounded by the light noise of others without worry. Being passed as the hours ticked by. A soft pull here. Guided steps there. Harsh yelling. Screams. Rapt warm skin and candle wax. One by one they flee. Swapped out and interchanged. The wardens never leave. No ideas to send them away.

Neo bolted from the flames.

Mint awoke, sweat sticking her bangs to her forehead. Heavy breathing under the sun, still in position above. How long had she slept? When had she dozed off? She wondered shortly before she stood to leave. Too warm. Too familiar. Too many people ignorant and uncaring of the world around them. She didn't blame them. She wouldn't. People could be good, or they could be bad, and to stop the bad you had to be worse; just a little bit.

Absent minded in her stroll, Mint voted to move; get the blood flowing to her brain and rationalize her place in Beacon. Cinder's sudden acceptance and outgoing personality sprung up so fast it literally had some of those she chatted with reel from the whiplash. Every act done in full view of soldiers; an active taunt.

"Yo!" A new voice, and one she didn't immediately recall. Mint lifted her eyes, saw a set of abs chiseled from marble, and then the goofy face of the guy they belonged to. Sun Wukong. His dopey grin burned away a small bit of her distress; although she'd never let it show.

She tilted her head, and he got down to business.

"You're Mint, right?" A fan, maybe? Upon closer inspection of his eyes, she discounted that; they aimed for her face, not her chest. If not a fan, then perhaps he wanted something else. Mint nodded, and he pumped a fist; apparently he won something, or succeeded in some way. "Yes. Got the right one."

Mint stretched in place a grin of her own, flicking one of her pigtails back as if to say "damn right you do!" He took it in good jest, and his face mellowed out into a casual 'good vibes' kind of mask.

"You're one of the visiting teams too, right? With Mercury and his two weird friends." Sun's grin splintered for a second. "D-don't tell them I said that."

She wouldn't, nodding as such, but Mint would definitely keep that sentiment on tab for later use; even other visitors considered Emmi and Cindy weird, and that alone could make her day many times over.

"Right, good." Sun wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Sorry. Didn't mean to insult your team like that. They've just been acting a little strange; especially around people like me." His tail waved around from behind. "If you catch my drift."

Another nod, but this time paired with obvious intrigue. He seemed the dense type, but he picked up on her mood and cleared his throat.

"Yeah, guess we haven't met formally before, right." She nodded again. "Did no one mention me yet? Or Neptune?" A head shake this time, and his face carried a tiny bit of hurt. "Dang. I mean, I didn't think we'd be best friends or anything, but I thought I made a good impression."

She had no idea what he was on about, and said so with an exaggerated shrug.

"Hmm?" His eyes lit up. "Oh yeah. Sorry, I guess you don't really know..." Interestingly, he took up a shyness similar to Yang earlier. "That makes this a little awkward."

"Wanna just spit it out?" They could go on all day, but a single text would move their interaction along a whole lot faster.

"Yeah. That sounds good." Sun cleared his throat once more. "I was kind of going to ask if Blake's been doing okay." Oh ho ho; so this was a lover-boy's quarl~ Mint very much had to keep her grin from betraying any sense of deviance. "The breech caught everyone off guard, and I'll admit, I'm a little worried. She hasn't really reached out to me, or my team at all; none of RWBY has. And yeah, I know it's none of our business, but friends stick together, right?"

That they did, in Mint's opinion anyway. Truthfully, she wasn't super locked into whatever spiciness spread between Blake and Sun, so much as she saw an opportunity to 'get' Blake - and she didn't even need any butter.

Mint motioned the boy to walk with her, to spill his concerns and worries so that she may "help" him in deciding a course of action in regards to his lady friend who was "just a friend."

.

.

"It won't be enough sir. Shall we send word?"

"No."

"Sir?"

Adam leaned up from his notes; records of shipments into every known camp of theirs across Remnant.

"Cinder's fault is her own. Her miscalculations are no issue of ours." Their place had been to Vale and Beacon, nothing more and nothing less.

"Amity Arena will remain airborne. She'll question why."

"She'll have only herself to blame."

"She won't."

"That's her problem."

"And if she takes it out on us?"

For the first time this week, Adam grinned.

"She won't. She'll be too busy saving face." She made it explicitly clear there were greater powers at play than even her own, and while Cinder thought the revelation of a monster called Salem might scare him, she forgot to factor in how shared that fear would be. After all, Cinder did not command that beast, she lived under its thumb.

Did such a monster tolerate failures on the level Cinder would unknowingly enact? Adam didn't think so, and that would be their saving grace. She'd need them to justify her own missteps. Roman didn't quite know it, but their deal had just given the White Fang a level of safety that would shield them from Cinder's inevitable inferno.

"From what?"

That, Adam couldn't answer.

"It's best you never know."

Realistically, it would be better if everyone remained blind and deaf, but Cinder chose to drag him into their fold. The rest didn't know how lucky they were.

"Very well."

"Is everyone briefed and ready?" They'd need to be if tomorrow was to go off without a hitch - for them, anyway.

"Yes. Black's team is set along the rim and has received the drop off locations. Sustrai's have their bombs in place to cover any remaining exits."

"Good." Once the timer in Amity began its countdown, both would return to lead their teams through the assault on the city. When the arena blew out, even though it wouldn't fall, the blast would signal the start. No easy passage would remain anywhere within Vale, and those who tried to flee would be cut off by either rampaging grimm, or one of their teams, who would thus spread out to cover ground and kill as many officials, be they police or soldier, as possible.

Humanity would see then just how monstrous the White Fang could be.

.

.

Something didn't sit right.

Ozpin, while his passage throughout the school as he oversaw the various students who went about the final day of pure rest, could not get out of his head this slimy sense that darkness loomed over all of their heads.

He took a slow, deliberate gulp of his coco.

Nothing good would come from developing an unhealthy over-fixation on that which he could not control. They had Miss Fall within their grasp; one week, that was all. And yet, her actions - if belonging to Salem indeed - did not subscribe to the black queen's usual methods. Salem had a process, much like his own; both tried and true, and deathly effective.

She never permitted pointless actions, risky moves, or even short term gains. When Salem rolled, it panned to either decisive victories, or instant retreats.

Her pattern remained the same for centuries, and while not at all easy to prevent once she got the ball rolling, he stood thankful for the predictability of her choices. Each play, in her eyes, led up to one game ending move, which was what made the recent string of suspicions and discoveries so... unsettling.

Cinder had been caught, she herself apparently knew they tied her to the Fang. She played into it more, either mocking them of her connections and testing their patience, or deliberately acting as so under the pretense they hadn't even conceived a connection with Salem. But that second possibility, Salem's involvement, upset the pattern, which had him unsure.

Upon any discovery, Salem's pawns had always, always delved into a final gambit: a large, destructive decision to immediately throw the play board into chaos.

Several soldiers passed, most absent minded in their march and even bumping into each other from time to time. They chatted, murmured, and laughed on occasion, much like the aspiring hunters who walked amongst them in the halls, in the park, in the lounge, and even in the combat arena. Everyone everywhere, at least for now, seemed to bask in total peace and carefree relaxation.

And then his eyes settled on Cinder Fall, and he saw how she looked to be losing her mind as Nora Valkyrie went on and on with some story or another. Beside them sat Velvet Scarlatina. Lie Ren nowhere in sight; an intriguing shift from the norm - another break from what should have been.

No wait, Lie Ren popped in swiftly from a crowd, holding what looked to be a... canvas?

Either way, Nora popped up after all smiles and the like, leaving a more predictable sight behind. Miss Fall exhaled, relief visible on her shoulders alone as they loosened. Velvet looked more conflicted than anything. Cinder then whispered something and handed her a paper. Discomfort spread through the senior student's face, a soft redness and flighty eyes. Her ears twitched, and she fled.

Once more, Ozpin found himself unable to decipher any meaning, other than the potential possibility that Cinder may be playing recruiter for the White Fang. Of course, with no students coming forth to say, he couldn't know for sure.

.

.

"Excuse me, Mint?"

The titular march she'd been enjoying while shirking any and all responsibilities in favor of plotting Blake's untimely annoyance came to a screeching halt when one sweet little bunny last handed her a slip of paper.

Mint, of course, rewarded the girl a good "the heck?" face for her troubles, which earned her more shy words and apprehension.

"Sorry. Your team leader told me to hand you that."

Cinder having a rando give her a note? A new concept, but ultimately one she honestly didn't give much of a shit about. Within one second she ripped it open, and then to shreds. As if she needed a reminder of the mission. Go down to the arena tomorrow? Fine; no reason to make it all secret like. At this point, it all became wasted time.

Velvet looked at the various shreds, and as if to rub it in Cinder's face - for Mint's own peace of mind - she gave the girl's head a tiny pat; like telling a child "good job."

She thus grabbed Sun by the collar to drag him along. They had to keep moving if they were going to catch Blake. He, at the very least, sent an apologetic wave - he probably did so for the both of them. Mint snapped her fingers a few times before his face, to awaken his previous line of thought. The idea, in her head, seemed sound enough: get the guy to give this grand, ballsy speech right outside the door, but at the same time she opened up and he began - in song, as per her suggestion because she could get away with it and he was a gullible goof - she would lure a group of as many guys as she could with promises of titties along just in time to see it.

Nothing like good ol' public humiliation to burn a streak across a shy gal's face.

Mint celebrated for all of ten seconds before Sun's advance came to a roaring halt. His ass smacked hard into a figure stepping past the other end of the hallway. She almost chastised him then and there; in a Brothers damned four-way, how the heck do you not look left and right? Sure, she didn't explicitly do it, but she kept hazy eyes in all directions within her peripheral vision - a necessity with death shooting for your ass almost everywhere you go.

But once her eyes actually settled on who he clumsily fell atop, and she saw the book to have fallen from the victim's hand and subsequently free of its false cover, a soft spot swelled within her chest.

Mint shook her head. She never needed elaborate schemes to pull a fast one on Blake; somehow, she'd Yang'ed.

"B-Blake!" The boy stammered, off her just like that. He pulled her up fast, apologies along his throat with only minimal scratches. "Sorry. I wasn't paying attention."

His eyes thus settled on the book she'd dropped, and he moved to swipe it, and being the good natured boy Mint learned him to be over the course of maybe one hour of meeting, Sun went to give it to her. He, unfortunately - fortunately, for Mint's needs - spat out a comment. His matter of bonding and showing interest in her hobbies, although not explicitly romantic as he'd like it to be, drew the eyes of every single woman in the hall - and even a few dudes.

Even Nora and Ren had arrived with the cue cards for his "last minute practice," but they wouldn't be needing them, and she silently worked them another little text, this time to forget about it.

"Ninja's Of Love 3, huh?" Sun rubbed the back of his neck with a fake laugh on his tongue, entirely ignorant of Blake's glowing cheeks, and shot a thumbs up tied to a bright grin. "Heard that's the dirtiest one. Sweet choice!"

Like a dude discussing and praising success with the boys over a beer. The problem? Blake wasn't a dude. The hall wasn't a bar. And this wasn't the time to appreciate others' tastes in the literary equivalent of porn. Mint, on the other end of the spectrum of onlookers to stare down the duo - only one of which seemed comfortable in any way - soaked in her non-work.

With friends like these, why bother planning?

Author's note

...

The classic ploy: do nothing while everyone else fumbles the ball. Classic Mint move, although it probably isn't too great for her overall record - Sun stole the show in the end, so she can't take too much credit.

On the bright side, we got another glimpse at Adam, although he ain't doing much in that glimpse. Cinder's apparently in a golden mood, although for how long, I don't think any can say.

Next time, the ball goes rolling, for better or worse, and we can finally get a little bit of action maybe; if any of what Cinder said is to be believed.

Until next time.