"Check. Check. 1. 2. 3. Check." A masked woman tapped on a microphone.
As this acoustic review was occurring, a small brunette with a squirrel tail roamed alone in a hooded raincoat. Elsewhere in Vale, Neopolitan's latest disguise would have drawn attention. But in the middle of a White Fang rally, she fit right in.
There was a hum on her lips as she worked her way through the assembled faunus. She was in her element. A shark surrounded by tasty morsels, hunting for the next meal.
"See anyone you recognize?" Buzzed Roman through her earpiece.
Hearing his voice again put a stutter in her step. Her gaze lifted briefly to the ceiling. He was up there, somewhere.
The insides of the barebones warehouse were surprisingly bright. The rally organizers had brought broad-beamed lamps to illuminate the enclosed space. This made seeing anything above the lights difficult to make out, even for those with night vision.
There were darkened areas exactly opposite the portable stage. Wooden scaffoldings made up a second floor to the warehouse. The only accessible stairway to that level was chained up, so the White Fang had not bothered to post anyone up top.
Just above the large, sliding doors, she could make out the upper half of her only friend in the world. From a distance, he looked just as she remembered. Her breath caught.
"Neo?" Jaune asked.
That broke her out of the trance. Reaching into her pocket, she touched-typed her answer on the open Scroll. A 'thumbs-down' emoticon went out.
It was a bitter response.
When Neo first arrived at the rally, she expected to see some familiar faces. Her heart rate increased at the thought of a rematch with the chainsaw-wielder or the spider-lady. She was confident she could capture both easily.
But they were nowhere to be seen.
Instead, the benchwarmers were present. In front of the stage was a line of generic looking White Fangers. Several more were on the platform helping to set up. All of the grunts had a scrawny, just-initiated appearance to them.
What weapons she saw—including batons, pistols, and semi-automatic rifles—looked more for show than for use. These terrorists were far from fire-forged warriors. It would have surprised Neo if any of them had seen serious combat.
But their audience was eating it up.
These people were all over the recruiters in their midst. It was a true cross section of Vale's faunus population that had gathered in the hanger-like warehouse. All ages and statuses were represented. Everyone was excited to meet with their prospective liberators.
The disguised human walked between the fawning clusters, hoping to catch a glimpse of a person of interest. There was enough space to avoid conversing with any of them. At least, not yet.
Her job was not to engage. She was to scan the warehouse slowly for anyone of note. Eventually, one such faunus was found.
The voice of Leroy patched in. "Get closer to the guy with the glasses."
She complied, footing it towards a group setting up a sign-up booth. Her own square eyewear was broadcasting everything she saw. Jaune had leant her the goggles from his armor set. Her Semblance hid them in plain sight.
The identified individual was unassuming. Average in height and wearing the standard regalia of the White Fang. His distinguishing feature was the large, circular frames fit clumsily over his half-mask.
"What do you think, Tom? Doesn't he look familiar?"
"Sure does." The Vacuan chimed in. "Those geeky bifocals could only belong to our old pal Perry. Should've ripped out those fingernails when I had the chance."
This Perry fellow was currently carrying a heavy box behind the stage. Neo sent to the group chat a 'bullseye' and a question mark. If she were to take him down, now was a good time to do so. He was all alone and vulnerable.
Roman threw cold water on that idea. "No point in risking the exposure. Sounds like we already know where he lives."
"We can pick him up later if needs be." Leroy confirmed.
With a frown, Neo let Perry go. She was disappointed but understood the decision. Her usual frustrations in these types of situations were lacking the same sting. There was a warmth in her soul that kept the young woman grounded.
For the most part, anyway. Some sudden events could still send her up a wall. For instance, someone touching her without permission.
"Sorry." A taller girl mumbled while rudely bumping Neo's shoulder.
Sensing the flair of irritation, Miss Murder began to stir. It took a mild bit of coaxing to lull her back to a deep sleep. Making the job easier was the nuisance already moving along.
As the potential victim walked away, Neo could not help but assess. Dark hair. Cat ears. A white cropped t-shirt. Her exposed arms were wrapped in ribbons the same shade of black as her pants.
This functional clothing made her stand out from the civilians. So did her athletic build. In a mask, she would have fit right in with the more battle-hardened White Fangers.
What really raised alarm bells was the dark sheathed sword nestled between her shoulder blades. It would be cumbersome to draw in an emergency, but that was not the point. She was purposefully trying to obscure the blade's presence under her long hair.
There was something else about her as well. Something that Neo could not put her finger on. She had seen her before.
But where?
"Blake!?" Jaune unknowingly answered with a yelp, making Neo wince.
Said girl stopped and looked around. Her feline ears twitched with alarm. Neo circled in the opposite direction before the cat girl could discover who had made her.
With any luck, the huntress-in-training would dismiss it as an auditory illusion. Unfortunately, those on the call could not be counted on to do the same. Leroy was the one to ask the obvious.
"Do you know her, Jay?"
"Y-yeah, that's Blake. Blake Belladonna. Although maybe I don't know her that well. I didn't even realize she was a faunus."
Neo was vaguely aware of Blake. She was the quietest member of Jaune's extended friend group. Someone who went out of their way to keep to themselves despite an assortment of overly friendly classmates.
Now they knew why. Her disguise would not stand up to strict scrutiny. That her roommates had not yet figured out her heritage said much about their powers of observation.
"What? Does she wear a hat to hide her ears?" Tommy joked.
"It's more of an oversized bow."
"Huh, you would think that would get itchy… Well, regardless, how do you know her?"
Caught, and not particularly skilled yet at lying, Jaune gave a partial truth. "I met her in my off time. She goes to Beacon Academy."
"Beacon? How'd you end up with that crowd?" Leroy asked.
"Jay here is my eyes and ears amongst the young huntsmen crowd." Roman came in with the save. "He gets us the premium info on what is happening over there. Although, it seems like he has not been as thorough as I would have liked."
A series of apologies followed from the teenager. They were occasionally interrupted by more jabs from the thief. If Neo had not known these voices were coming from a single body, she would have been fooled.
Tommy spoke up again. "So you're saying she attends a huntress finishing school while also hiding being a faunus? Isn't that a strange thing to do? I thought the 'defenders of civilization' were welcoming of our furry friends."
"Not that strange. Some of us don't like drawing attention." Leroy defended the choice.
"Is that why you wear shades everywhere?"
"I have sensitive retinas."
"Even at night?"
Tuning them out, Neo shadowed Blake. The henchman had a decent point. There was no reason for the huntress-in-training to continue to hide her faunus appendages. Unless doing so served a purpose.
One such purpose came to mind: Infiltration.
Much like Roman's excuse for Jaune, Blake could very well be the White Fang's means of keeping tabs on Beacon Academy. In fact, the gentleman thief mentioning the idea had to be a secret code to Neo. He wanted her to pursue this lead.
There was only one reliable way of doing that. They would need to conduct an interrogation. To do so, Neo would need to capture her.
Jaune would not agree. He would give Blake the benefit of the doubt. Produce excuses for why she was at a White Fang recruitment rally dressed like a lifelong member.
Taking her had to be a priority. Seeking forgiveness was easier than asking for permission. And so, Neo clandestinely followed the secret faunus.
Blake was also surveying the room. She never spoke with anyone. Her primary activity was to hover around medium-sized groups to listen in on conversations.
The actions were plain, but the motive was unclear. Was she just anti-social? Was she spying? Was she part of the security detail for the event?
More things to ask once they had her under their thumb.
"It's strange." Leroy suddenly said. "There is something familiar about her. I feel like I've seen Blake Belladonna before. Not sure from where though."
Before anyone could ask for a clarification, there was an announcement over the speakers. "Thank you for the wait. Our event will begin shortly."
Everyone, including the target, turned to the stage. Neo did the same so as to not stick out. A man with a large gut hid her from Blake's direct field of vision.
Neo had been weighing options of bagging the cat faunus without anyone noticing. There were many ways to do so. Some methods were actually easier when in a crowded area.
But they all melted away once the show began. There was too much attention. Neo stayed her hand.
For now.
XX. Dynamite
As Qrow Branwen hopped down from his landing spot into the alleyway, he checked his Beacon-issued Scroll. The digital clock read as half past ten. By his estimations, the rally had been going for about half an hour.
Perfect timing for a fashionably late entrance.
The sun had long set. Yet the warehouse down the street was a light. He could hear the call and response of an enthusiastic audience. Hands in his pockets, he slunk off towards the noise. Smells of cooling asphalt and days old trash filled his nose.
Turning his head to clear his nostrils of the rancid stench, he spotted a green car parked perpendicular to the entrance. It was hidden well enough, wedged between two dumpsters. Qrow only noticed because his motion-trained senses made out excess movements in the sedan's cabin.
For once, he was in luck. The occupants had not seen him. Diverting his path, he walked around an adjoining building.
While on approach, Qrow reached around his back for Harbinger. Hand on the grip, he pressed a button and pushed down. The hilt bent at a ninety-degree angle to reveal twin gun barrels. Another press detached this shotgun from the rest of the weapon.
Sneaking up on the passenger's side window, he heard two masculine voices. The men in the front were looking down at glowing screens. There was no one in the back seat and the doors were unlocked. Seeing that as an invitation, he popped the handle.
"Evening gents." Qrow greeted as slid in the car and closed it back up.
"What the-" Startled out a stout man with dark green hair and rich red skin.
He fumbled around for something on his hip. That stopped when the short barrel of the shotgun was pressed into the side of his head. Qrow smiled, knowing it was not loaded. He did not trust that the firing pin would not go off by accident.
Truthfully, he did not need the shotgun. But he also knew from experience that shows of force were important. It kept certain types of people compliant.
"Easy now." Qrow said soothingly on the razor's edge of the threat. "How about we turn off those gadgets and pass them back here, yeah?"
They did as he instructed. A few seconds later, Qrow had in his free hand two cheaply made Scrolls. The devices did not even fold to become smaller.
These were burners, designed to be tossed after a few days' use. Probably paid for with monies unconnected to a bank account. Perfect for those who wish to indulge in illicit activities without being tracked.
The huntsman's first instincts were that his new acquaintances were with the White Fang. They were likely scouts on the lookout for a police raid. The driver was faunus, if the square pupils looking back at him through the rearview mirror were any indication.
Yet the other passenger did not have any obvious animal features. As far as Qrow knew, the Fang did not admit non-faunus into their ranks. That meant this duo were not directly connected with the organization.
Could they be cops on a stakeout? Qrow did not think so.
While VPD did hire goons, these two did not give off that kind of vibe. They seemed more like wise guys from a gang. Which one was unclear. If they were with Junior, he would have warned them of Qrow presence.
"Going to stare at us all night, or what?" The driver asked gruffly.
"I'm trying to make sense of all this. Which merry band of lowlifes are you with?"
The green-haired man tried to turn around. "Are you serious, Branwen? Don't you recognize us? Because I do you. You helped throw me in the clink for six years."
"Refresh my memory. I've put a lot of people in jail." Qrow prodded his cheek again with the weapon. "Put a few of them in the ground, as well."
"You-" A look from the driver quieted the passenger.
They both kept their mouths shut. Qrow tried to sweat them for a few minutes, but it became increasingly clear they were not going to say anything else. His attention instead turned to the Scrolls in his possession.
He instead thumbed the first screen. It lit up to reveal a prompt for a password. The second Scroll was similarly locked.
Upon further review, Qrow should not have told the men to turn off their Scrolls. He did not expect them to use passcodes, though. It was surprisingly security conscious for a mafia crew. Most did not bother protecting their burners.
"Don't suppose either of you would be willing to call your boss so I can speak with them?" They remained silent. "Figured as much."
Pocketing the Scrolls, Qrow opened the car door and stepped outside. He then clicked his gun against the window. Begrudgingly, the green-haired man rolled it down.
"I'm not telling you nothing." He said.
"Double negative aside, I believe you. So, I'll tell you something instead. I want you to clear out of here for the rest of the night."
The lone faunus objected. "We don't have to go anywhere. It's a free kingdom and we're not doing anything wrong."
"Really now? You're telling me that if I were to drag you out and pat you down, I would not find something on either of you?"
"Of course not!" The passenger coughed awkwardly, causing the driver to growl under his breath. "Damnit, Tom…"
"What I figured." Qrow reassembled Harbinger before reaching for his own Scroll. "Oh, before I forget… Say 'cheese.'"
He brought the device up to their faces. Unlike the burners, it had a photo feature. Humorously, the now named Tom smiled for the picture.
"Cheese!" The driver thumped him on the chest to signal his disapproval.
"Right, then. Get lost." Qrow commanded them by beating on the car roof.
Glaring the whole time, the driver started up the sedan. The headlights came on, lighting the side streets leading away from the warehouse. The passenger thumbed his nose at the huntsman.
"Think you're real slick, huh? You had better watch your back. Sooner or later, you'll get what's coming to you."
Without a weapon trained on him, Tom had become mouthy. Qrow decided a lesson in manners needed to be taught. His hand struck out, grabbing the passenger by the scruff of his neck before directing his forehead into the dashboard.
It bounced off the wooden panel with a thunk. Qrow was expecting more of a hollow sound to come out. The other man did not seem too bright.
Qrow leaned in to deliver a final warning. "Tell your boss that the White Fang is my responsibility. I don't need anyone from the Underground buzzing around. If they have a problem with that, they can communicate with me directly. I'm not hard to find."
After another glare, the car shifted into drive. The passenger was still clutching the side of his face as they drove off. Qrow stayed a little longer to watch them go. Once they were far in the distance, he strolled towards the warehouse.
/ / /
"Leroy? Tommy? Are you there?" Jaune said into his Scroll.
The two lookouts had not uttered a syllable. It was a strange development. They had been constantly chattering not too long ago. Jaune had originally thought they were staying silent because they had nothing to add.
So far, the rally had resembled more of a disgruntled community meeting rather than a recruitment drive. The first few speakers had made a short pitch to encourage their listeners to join the White Fang. They then ceded the floor to the audience.
One by one, people were chosen to come on stage and gripe about their lives in Vale. And they had. Vociferously.
Some had legitimate grievances. Children were not being allowed to share pools with humans. Women experienced their extra appendages being groped on the buses. Men had litter boxes dumped on them as they walked near apartment buildings.
Others had more puzzling complaints. One person thought parking tickets were inherently discriminatory. Another was certain they were being poisoned through their mouthwash. More than a few complained about being pandered to in commercial advertisements.
Strangest of all was that no one called out these unserious criticisms. These arguments undermined their message, yet no one said a thing. The organizers simply nodded along.
It was at this point that Jaune had expected either a grumble from Leroy or an off-color joke from Tommy. Looking at the Scroll revealed that they had disconnected from the voice chat. He was about to call them up when Roman spoke up in his head.
"Don't. Leave it be." Jaune's finger ghosted over the call button before moving away. "They may have had a good reason to hang up."
"Like what?"
"Not sure, but I'm getting a bad feeling." Roman picked up his own, separate, Scroll and spoke. "Neo, I need you to head outside and check out what is going on."
They quickly received a 'thumbs up' before the chat ended. "Seriously, what do you think is happening?"
"Again, I don't know. Best we assume the worst and start heading for the exit."
Jaune instinctively looked for Blake, worrying about her safety. Ruby would be sad if something happened to her partner. But there was not much he could do for her now.
He had to take care of himself first and foremost.
Pulling away from the safety railing, he double checked his surroundings. It was important not to leave anything that could be linked back to him. This included making sure his Torchwick disguise was still in place.
Slowly, he inched towards a fire access door on the opposite end of the walkway. It had been wedged open to allow him in and out of the warehouse. From there, he could take a short set of stares to the roof.
Thankfully, he would not have to repeat the jump he had performed earlier that night to leave the building. Melodic Cudgel had a grappling hook feature he could use to quickly repel down to the street. From there, he could disappear down a nearby storm drain to meet up with Neo.
As he contemplated his escape, the White Fang rally continued unabated. The latest talker was a man who was absolutely certain that a police-trained squirrel was surveilling him. It was hard for Jaune to believe these people were a threat.
Halfway to the door, his pocket vibrated. It was coming from Roman's Scroll. Listed on the screen was an incoming connection from an unrecognized number. The thief decided to answer the call anyway.
"Yeah?"
"It's Leroy, sir." He sounded out of breath.
"Leroy! You disappeared on us. What's the story?"
"We were run off by a huntsman." Roman cursed as Jaune paled. "He took our Scrolls. I had to drive back to the hideout to get a new burner. The guy's up to something. Claimed the White Fang was his to deal with."
"Is this a raid?"
"Could be anything. We've had a run-in with him before. He's a crazy bastard named-"
There was a series of loud 'boos' and hisses from below that drowned out Leroy. Heading back to the railing, Jaune saw an empty bubble in the crowd around a dark-haired man in a crimson cape. It followed him as he headed for the stage.
"I see him." Roman reported to Leroy. "Okay, here is what we are going to do. Circle back in the car and be ready to act. I want to see how this shakes out."
"We'll be in the neighborhood. Call if you need us."
The line disconnected.
Roman restarted the chat with Neo. "Not sure if you saw, but we have a huntsman problem."
They received back a question mark.
"We drew the ScareQrow."
Neo responded with an exclamation point.
"Yeah. I heard he tends to work alone, but I'd rather not take any chances. Stay vigilant outside and be ready to implement Rule Five. And for the love of everything, don't engage!"
A 'salute' emoticon was her answer.
Jaune had just one question. "What… Who is the ScareQrow?"
"Qrow Branwen." Roman said as he returned the Scroll to their inside pocket. "Vale's most dangerous huntsman. Maybe in the world. He is beyond a doubt the most chaotic of wildcards for people like us."
Jaune pointedly ignored the 'like us' comment. "In what way?"
"Wait and see. We might just get a front row demonstration."
The huntsman did not appear all that fearsome as he stumbled his way up to the raised platform. He looked more like a wandering vagrant. The only thing distinguishing him as a threat was the humongous sword strapped to his back.
Others in the crowd seemed to come to the same conclusion as Jaune. What had once been a negative response became muted as he took center stage, and they got a better view of him. The masked members were tense but made no obvious moves against him.
"Quite the shindig y'all got going on." Qrow began jokingly. "Hope you don't mind that I brought my own party juice."
He reached inside his thin jacket. Those near him became tense. When the huntsman pulled out a silver flask, they relaxed. They then adopted quizzical expressions when he proceeded to chug the presumably alcoholic beverage.
One of the masked individuals on stage opened their mouth to say something. Qrow put up his pointer finger in the universal sign of 'one moment please.' And then he kept going.
"That's Vale's most dangerous huntsman?" Jaune asked incredulously.
"Don't let the drunken display fool you. He pretty much runs the Underground. Or rather, he prevents any single faction from getting powerful enough to take over the city."
After a few more gulps, Qrow smacked his lips. "Ah! That hit the spot. So, I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd come around and introduce myself. Name's Qrow and I represent Beacon Academy."
"Go away huntsman!" Someone yelled.
"You don't scare us!" Another screamed.
"We have every right to be here!" One more added.
It was the last one that Qrow grabbed on to. "You there, ma'am, a-are absolutely correct. Far be it from me to break up a lawful assembly, no matter how much we stretch the definition of 'lawful.' I'm just here to deliver a message."
"Say your peace then and get lost." Said another of the masked people.
"Gladly. It's in two parts. The first is for your leadership." He took another pull on the flask before storing it away. "Namely, leave. Uh, Vale that is. Please leave this city. Preferably the entire kingdom as well."
This suggestion was met with another round of heckling, giving someone the courage to howl. "Why don't you leave instead!"
"I would if I could. But see, some of the people you want to shack up with beat an old man to death. Maybe you all heard about that?"
That quieted enough of the crowd for Qrow to continue. "My offer is fair. I'm letting them go peacefully, despite them also maiming a good friend of mine. They left the one decent cop in all of Vale a shell of his former self."
"Screw the cops and screw you!" Brayed the crowd.
Jaune was starting to wonder if Qrow was secretly in league with the White Fang. His speech was pushing the onlookers to their cause. There were a few smirks exchanged behind the huntsman's back, probably wondering if they could invite him to future rallies.
"Yeah. Clever." Qrow turned to the organizers. "Anyway, that is the offer for the organization as a whole. Leave Vale with your ill-gotten goods and never return. Tell whoever leads you it's either that or I'm coming at them, hammer and tongs."
That got a laugh out of them, but one did provide an affirmative response. "We'll take your message. You can leave now."
"Hold up. I got another one in me for these fine people here." He gestured outward from the stage.
"By all means."
He made to reach for his flask again. At the last moment, his hand stopped and instead went to his hair. Ruffling the dark strands there, he stared at his feet before glancing back up into the rafters to gather his thoughts.
His eyes lingered there and narrowed. Jaune froze. The huntsman's gaze was upon him.
"Get down!" Roman hissed.
The teenager did so. Ducking behind the ledge, he fell on his butt. His heart was hammering in his rib cage.
"Did he see me? Is he on his way up here!?"
"Of course he saw you, but he is a little preoccupied."
The crowd was jeering once again. Qrow could barely be heard above them. That his voice was not coming any closer was a good sign.
Not taking any more chances, Jaune doubled his speed towards the exit. He was now crawling on his hands and knees. In this position, there was no way for him to be seen again.
"-you don't have to join this group of knuckleheads to change things." Jaune could just barely make out the contents of Qrow's second speech. "You could organize sit-ins and job walkouts to-"
The responses were deafening.
"We tried that already!"
"It never gets better!
"They need to fear us!"
As Jaune arrived at the door, his Scroll buzzed once again. A new message had arrived from Neo. She had sent a line filled with gear emoticons and exclamation points.
Puzzled, the teen typed a response while asking the spirit. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing good."
"Listen to me!" Qrow was having to raise his voice over the roar. "As bad as things might be, they can always be worse. You don't understand the level of terror you are inviting into your lives by siding with-"
Outside the warehouse, there was a loud thump. Loud enough that everyone inside turned in the direction of the sound. Everyone's attention was now on the front entrance. Jaune dared to stick his head up to see what was happening.
Then there was another thump. And another.
Neo had sent a textual communication. This one lacked the usual playfulness. It contained the only instance of Jaune seeing her use words in a full sentence.
'Get out of there!'
The thumping grew louder. As it neared, Jaune realized that what was making the noise was not a singular, heavy object. It was a bunch of smaller entities moving in a synchronized rhythm.
Two shadowed hands slipped through the crack between the hanger doors and grabbed both ends. With a jerking motion, the doors slid open. On the other side was a line of nine bipedal automatons standing at attention.
They were uniform in height and appearance. Each of them was made of black metal with pulsing red cores. The eerie silence they brought was broken as they took a noisy step forward.
"What are those!?" Jaune gasped.
He was not the only one. Those on the ground floor and closest to the entrance were recoiling in fear. More nervous noises were made as another group of the metal men arrived to stand behind the first wave. And then a third backed them up.
And a fourth.
"Atlesian Knights." Roman answered quietly.
"Atlas? But this is Vale!"
As if mocking the idea of borders, the central robot broadcasted with a distorted voice. "By order of the Kingdom of Atlas, you are all under arrest! Surrender or face the consequences."
Those consequences became self-evident. Their limbs transformed into different weapons. The front-line produced riot shields and batons. Backing them up were more units wielding rotary cannons and double-edged blades.
These actions did little to cow their true targets. The masked members in attendance reached for their own firepower. Those caught in the middle surged in all directions to find an escape route that did not exist for them.
"Wait!" Qrow called out, futility. "Don't! The people-"
"To battle!" Cried the White Fang fighters.
"For the glory of Atlas." The Atlesian Knights all declared as one before advancing.
