Fandom Distorted Mirror [IC]

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

"INITIATING ROLEPLAY PACKAGE. I HAVE BEEN A BAD GIRL, DESIGNATION YANG." The android gave a halfhearted effort to wriggle free, and a single oil teardrop rolled down its cheek. Or did it?

The attendant droid turned to face Yang with a momentary flash of '>=0' overtaking its LED-board face, and Winter rolled her eyes with a look of obvious disgust where she was leaning up against a table to the side and glaring harshly at the exchange. Its processing circuits whirred for several seconds before it gave a response even more mechanical than the bot over her shoulders. "Competitor numeral o-o-o̴n̶e̷-̵o̸n̸e̵-̸o̸n̸e̵-̸o̷n̴e̷-̸o̷n̴e̷-̷five six, designation Dragon. As a former semifinalist you have permanent access to your suite on the platinum level. You may use all facilities at your discretion until sixty-four competitors have been selected and further instruction is given."

It gave no acknowledgment of its momentary verbal spasm, but a moment later its inbuilt microphone screeched and the stilted droid language was supplanted by a voice far more sentient in its inflection, if equally as modulated. The emoji at the center of its visor was replaced by the same cat with the glowing eye that had been etched into the wall back in the club.

"So good to see you again. Would you be inclined as to accept the gift of some more... personable company for the evening, miss Xiao Long? The usual can be arranged to await you in your room. You had a particular taste for exotic faunus with raven hair, did you not?"​

Outwardly, Yang rubbed her chin at the offer with a thoughtful grin.

Inwardly, she was over thinking the heck out of this.

Was this some kinda coded meetup? Exotic black haired faunus, did that mean the shadow fang were here? How suspicious would it be for her to turn it down? From the miserable whole five minutes she spent talking to that other her, it'd probably be incredibly suspicious right? Except what if she said yes and it wasn't a coded message??? What exactly was she agreeing to then??? Like, she was sure whoever this hypothetical faunus was good looking and knew what she was doing sure whatever, but that was DEFINITELY not what she'd come here for. She had game, she didn't need to pay someone if she ever had a moment in her life in the last two years where she could have ever been bored enough to give into those kinda urges. She could deal with all this yelling and weird android play acting, this was her double's dignity she was flaunting her disregard of, not her own. BUt her personal, private dignity was definitely not worth accidentally agreeing to get railed by some professional fight club prostitute. Right? Except was the mission important enough that it was and she just had to suck it up?!

She was starting to think this whole undercover thing was gonna be harder than she thought.

she finally snapped her fingers and pointed a fingergun at the talking robot cat face. "I'mma take a rain check on that one. Kind of attached to the idea of this one already" She said with a smirk as she jostled the android over her shoulder "But if someone's really just chomping at the bit to get some me time, go ahead and tell em' I'm free, kay?" she finished with a grin before she wheeled on her foot and tried to remember where the heck she'd seen the elevators for wherever that was.

 

[Gus Gungus]

About eight floors and a hundred yards north of the bar, the mirror inside the door marked arrivals shimmered and rippled like a stone dropped in a pool of mercury as the second contender in as many minutes to arrive did so.



"Barmaid? Where are you, little one?"

Her voice boomed throughout the metallic confines of the living area, projected outward by majestic neck muscles that were thicker and more defined than most bodybuilder's biceps. Some of the headhunters, mercenaries and tournament fighters shrank back around corners and out of view the moment she curled up her dense frame to fit through the door, backing off just from the sight of the woman and the immense reserves of aura her brutish form gave off. Anyone with that much spiritual strength and that many naturally toned muscles despite it had to be some kind of monster.



"CookieCookieCOOOOOOKIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! Why, ya best gal's only right up here!!!!!~" The tanuki faunus laughed, sparkled and waved a handkerchief down at the behemoth bouncer from a bridge between platforms higher up, having spent the time waiting for her simp backup to arrive enjoying the attention of a number of her fellow competitors who watched the new arrivals from balconies. They turned out so nice once she got all up in their faces and called them out for creepin!

Cookie immediately shrieked, as the tiny dancer was covered nearly head to toe in all manner of shallow cuts, scrapes and lesions. Her mighty legs touched on the platform with a BOOOOOOOM to rival any Hulk's, shaking the entire bridge and drawing a short, strangled scream from one of the other combatants that cut off sharply when she scattered them to the five winds with a single titanic punch. She immediately fell to one knee, frown lines deep as ridges and fringe casting a long, deep shadow over her brow.



"I've... failed. Never before have I let harm befall a single hair on a single dancer... You must tell me, little one. How did this come to pass...?"



The barmaid forced herself to recover from the momentary state of shellshocked catatonia she'd lapsed into from Cookie's landing, making herself look as cute as faunusly possible with lashes aflutter on eyes that seemed extra large, hands clasped by her collarbone in a maidenly way, and a ditzy lower lip wobble for good measure. "W-W-Well ya see, Cookielicious, I kinda did that ta myself by lookin' the boss's scary face dead in the eye."



"..."



"..." Her tail swished apprehensively.



"The one act the instructions specifically say not to commit."



"Yea, that's the one."



"Why did you do this foolish thing?"



Cookie's rapid increase in intensity finally had her cutesy pokerface snap, and she slipped into a defensive approach instead as she reared forward with lips trembling and hands planted firmly on her hips. "Same reason anyone plays that DUMB bathroom game she lifted the words from, ta see if I died okay???? I didn't, and boss has the scariest semblance either of us know! If she couldn't ice me when she went berserk then that means I belong here, ya hear me, so I don't wantcher coddlin' me or babyin' me or treatin' me like I'm some fragile eggshell waitin' ta be crac-"



Cookie hoped any such concerns were ejected from the barmaid's brain along with at least a little of the stupid during the five-minute thrashing that ensued. Unbeknownst to either, the countdown board looming over the room casually rolled over to 64.

---

she finally snapped her fingers and pointed a fingergun at the talking robot cat face. "I'mma take a rain check on that one. Kind of attached to the idea of this one already" She said with a smirk as she jostled the android over her shoulder "But if someone's really just chomping at the bit to get some me time, go ahead and tell em' I'm free, kay?" she finished with a grin before she wheeled on her foot and tried to remember where the heck she'd seen the elevators for wherever that was.

"-And can you believe how self-possessed the way she walks is??? Hiiiii,~ my chest grew in when I was thirteen and I'm gonna make sure the entire world knows it, hehe!~" Wherever Robyn was sitting an age-old question nobody asked had finally been answered, which was how many drinks it took the uptight, responsible Winter Schnee to start curling her hair around a finger and doing airheaded valley girl impersonations. Two. Two drinks. She scowled, shooting a glare in the direction of Yang's caper again. "Honestly, how sure are we that this lascivious act of hers is even an act? Doesn't it seem like it's coming a bit too easy to her? Look I am not fixated, I simply know better than anyone how lonely my sister is, and the potential negative ramifications of some island-dwelling tart hanging out of her for two months, batting her eyelashes and showing cleavage and enabling all her poor decisions, are nothing to be-! Shh, she's coming. Make it look like we weren't talking about her."



The silence reigning over Winter's table, EXTREMELY uncomfortable look on Cobalt's face, and long, piercing frown she gave Yang when she walked by kind of made it seem like they were talking about her. It was hard to tell though.



Suddenly, the room's ambient music and all the whirring of automatons as they moved around came to a sudden, distinct halt. It was difficult for even the most dulled of senses to miss an entire bar's background noise fading, and the last of the conversations died out only a few seconds later as everyone in the room waited to see where this was going. Those who had already taken the plunge into the semblance pits once before and lived looked more assured than the others, less apprehensive about what was about to happen, and when a single, mechanical chime sounded some of them even bared their teeth in grins of enthusiastic malice. Some of them had been waiting days, even weeks.

That sound meant it was almost time.

From every droid both in the bar and across the entire span of the bunker the flickering image of a hologram was projected, conjuring an intangible avatar of a lone figure in a chair as the newcomers were given a look at their mysterious benefactor for the first time. Jabberwocky was neither large nor imposing, their legs curled beneath them like they were about to watch Netflix and a baggy tracksuit disguising their gender, but the most unsettling thing about them was easily the helmet they wore.



The entire thing was a screen, almost disorienting to look at as various images and messages flashed, blinked and rolled across the sleek black surface at intervals that were never more than a second. Many were innocuous enough; harmless song lyrics like MIRROR MIRROR, commonly spoken proverbs, even the odd meme or two that went well over most of the room's head. The most commonly recurring logo was that same grinning cat face, the right eye glowing as its eyes swiveled from left to right slyly.

"Hello, hello. The necessary participant quotient has now been reached. The eleventh Semblance Pit will commence at sunset tomorrow. I thank you all for your commitment, and applaud the strength and potency of each and every spirit gathered here. Congratulations; if you're listening, it means your aura and semblance were gauged, catalogued, and deemed acceptable for entry. These tools are, of course, directly reflective of the soul that manifests them. Be proud. Finding your way here means you were destined to achieve great things."

That was around the images flickering across the helmet started to take a turn for the disturbing.

"But make no mistake. Nothing is predetermined, not all souls are created equal, and many of you will not live to see your noble purposes achieved. For those unfortunates, let there be no regrets. You will have your fates rewritten, your destiny becoming to die a glorious death on the field of battle among peers and equals. It's a harsh, unforgiving world we live in. What more can a fighter ask for?"

Peppered in with the more innocuous images flashing through were now pictures of violence, death, and general chaos. Still-frames from past tournaments, the savage consequences of failing to heed Grimm environmental modifiers or aftereffects of a particularly destructive semblance on a particularly depleted aura.

"With that in mind, the preliminary round will be as follows. Sixty-four of you are currently listening to this broadcast across all thirty of this facility's levels, but only sixteen fighters will be proceeding to the elimination tournament proper. At sunset tomorrow, each and every one of the androids you see will be set to recognize all living entities as hostile, while a particularly swift and vicious strain of Grimm will be released into the facility from the arrivals center. Additionally, an extremely old, extremely hostile specimen of a different nature is currently imprisoned on the bunker's lowest level, marked 'Containment'. It's so aggressive it attacks its own kind; quite unlike the usual snarling beasts you're all no doubt used to cutting down in the dozens. Regardless of any one warrior's prowess, I can assure you anything it comes into contact with will almost certainly meet their end. This entity will be unleashed upon the bunker as well."

The depictions of violence and carnage were starting to supplant the more innocent ones as the helmet's dominant visual, the occasional red eyes and fangs eerily placed against the material's darkened shine.

"The first condition for successfully achieving victory is simple: Survive the night. The second is slightly more complex. Each of you will be provided with a keycard; Come sunrise, the facility's top floor will unseal, and there will you find your exit. The first sixteen competitors to reach this floor bearing three keycards will be able to unlock the door and escape. These sixteen will form the actual tournament's bracket; the order in which they reach the door will determine the seeding. Keycards can be attained by taking them from other competitors, or their remains. Clear enough? Oh, and one final caveat. For my own amusement, more than anything. A stroke of genius I credit to my old academy's bizarre initiation rites."

It occurred to those listening that this was the first time the speaker's tone had experienced any kind of an uptick or shift in emotion at all; seemingly a fond lilt of nostalgic whimsy.

"All competitors will be required to isolate themselves prior to the event's initialization. Upon commencement, the first fighter you make eye contact with will become your partner for its duration. Your keycards will become inert to one another, and separation for a period greater than a half hour will result in both your immediate disqualifications. Now, you have less than 24 hours. I suggest you use them to sleep, enjoy yourselves and prepare. Your destinies have been rewritten. The only certainty is this: you're all one sleep from a bloodbath."

The holograms all flickered off, and the competitors were left to digest the message as the bunker's every droid went back to their normal routine like it had been no more than a particularly ominous sneeze.​

 

[MyrtenRose]

"-And can you believe how self-possessed the way she walks is??? Hiiiii,~ my chest grew in when I was thirteen and I'm gonna make sure the entire world knows it, hehe!~" Wherever Robyn was sitting an age-old question nobody asked had finally been answered, which was how many drinks it took the uptight, responsible Winter Schnee to start doing curling her hair around a finger and doing airheaded valley girl impersonations. Two. Two drinks. She scowled, shooting a glare in the direction of Yang's caper again. "Honestly, how sure are we that this lascivious act of hers is even an act? Doesn't it seem like it's coming a bit too easy to her? Look I am not fixated, I simply know better than anyone how lonely my sister is, and the potential negative ramifications of some island-dwelling tart hanging out of her two months, batting her eyelashes and showing cleavage and enabling all her poor decisions, are nothing to be-! Shh, she's coming. Make it look like we weren't talking about her."

The silence reigning over Winter's table, EXTREMELY uncomfortable look on Cobalt's face, and long, piercing frown she gave Yang when she walked by kind of made it seem like they were talking about her. It was hard to tell though.

There was a degree of amusement evident in her expression as Robyn looked over at one of the ones present that was close to her own age, behaving like that. The airheaded sound of that mock voice, what she was actually saying with that voice, that stare as Yang passed by and perhaps most funnily enough, the amount of drinks it took to turn the disciplined, composed and ordered Winter Schnee into someone who would probably be right at home in the setting of Mean Girls. "Huh. Kinda a lightweight, aren't you?" Robyn's tone of voice carried that same hint of amusement as her expression did, rather than any actual mean-spirited judgment. "Unless I'm underestimating just how strong those two drinks were. Fisticuffs really got to you, huh? Even her swagger upsets you."

Any further commentary on Robyn's part got interrupted, though.​

Suddenly, the room's ambient music and all the whirring of automatons as they moved around came to a sudden, distinct halt. It was difficult for even the most dulled of senses to miss an entire bar's background noise fading, and the last of the conversations died out only a few seconds later as everyone in the room waited to see where this was going. Those who had already taken the plunge into the semblance pits once before and lived looked more assured than the others, less apprehensive about what was about to happen, and when a single, mechanical chime sounded some of them even bared their teeth in grins of enthusiastic malice. Some of them had been waiting days, even weeks.

That sound meant it was almost time.

From every droid both in the bar and across the entire span of the bunker the flickering image of a hologram was projected, conjuring an intangible avatar of a lone figure in a chair as the newcomers were given a look at their mysterious benefactor for the first time. Jabberwocky was neither large nor imposing, their legs curled beneath them like they were about to watch Netflix and a baggy tracksuit disguising their gender, but the most unsettling thing about them was easily the helmet they wore.

The entire thing was a screen, almost disorienting to look at as various images and messages flashed, blinked and rolled across the sleek black surface at intervals that were never more than a second. Many were innocuous enough; harmless song lyrics like MIRROR MIRROR, commonly spoken proverbs, even the odd meme or two that went well over most of the room's head. The most commonly recurring logo was that same grinning cat face, the right eye glowing as its eyes swiveled from left to right slyly.

"Hello, hello. The necessary participant quotient has now been reached. The eleventh Semblance Pit will commence at sunset tomorrow. I thank you all for your commitment, and applaud the strength and potency of each and every spirit gathered here. Congratulations; if you're listening, it means your aura and semblance were gauged, catalogued, and deemed acceptable for entry. These tools are, of course, directly reflective of the soul that manifests them. Be proud. Finding your way here means you were destined to achieve great things."

That was around the images flickering across the helmet started to take a turn for the disturbing.

"But make no mistake. Nothing is predetermined, not all souls are created equal, and many of you will not live to see your noble purposes achieved. For those unfortunates, let there be no regrets. You will have your fates rewritten, your destiny becoming to die a glorious death on the field of battle among peers and equals. It's a harsh, unforgiving world we live in. What more can a fighter ask for?"

Peppered in with the more innocuous images flashing through were now pictures of violence, death, and general chaos. Still-frames from past tournaments, the savage consequences of failing to heed Grimm environmental modifiers or aftereffects of a particularly destructive semblance on a particularly depleted aura.

"With that in mind, the preliminary round will be as follows. Sixty-four of you are currently listening to this broadcast across all thirty of this facility's levels, but only sixteen fighters will be proceeding to the elimination tournament proper. At sunset tomorrow, each and every one of the androids you see will be set to recognize all living entities as hostile, while a particularly swift and vicious strain of Grimm will be released into the facility from the arrivals center. Additionally, an extremely old, extremely hostile specimen of a different nature is currently imprisoned on the bunker's lowest level, marked 'Containment'. It's so aggressive it attacks its own kind; quite unlike the usual snarling beasts you're all no doubt used to cutting down in the dozens. Regardless of any one warrior's prowess, I can assure you anything it comes into contact with will almost certainly meet their end. This entity will be unleashed upon the bunker as well."

The depictions of violence and carnage were starting to supplant the more innocent ones as the helmet's dominant visual, the occasional red eyes and fangs eerily placed against the material's darkened shine.

"The first condition for successfully achieving victory is simple: Survive the night. The second is slightly more complex. Each of you will be provided with a keycard; Come sunrise, the facility's top floor will unseal, and there will you find your exit. The first sixteen competitors to reach this floor bearing three keycards will be able to unlock the door and escape. These sixteen will form the actual tournament's bracket; the order in which they reach the door will determine the seeding. Keycards can be attained by taking them from other competitors, or their remains. Clear enough? Oh, and one final caveat. For my own amusement, more than anything. A stroke of genius I credit to my academy's bizarre initiation rites."

It occurred to those listening that this was the first time the speaker's tone had experienced any kind of an uptick or shift in emotion at all; seemingly a fond lilt of nostalgic whimsy.

"All competitors will be required to isolate themselves prior to the event's initialization. Upon commencement, the first fighter you make eye contact with will become your partner for its duration—Your keycards will become inert to one another, and separation for a period greater than a half hour will result in both your immediate disqualifications. Now, you have less than 24 hours. I suggest you use them to sleep, enjoy yourselves and prepare. Your destinies have been rewritten. The only certainty is this: you're all one sleep from a bloodbath."

The holograms all flickered off, and the competitors were left to digest the message as the bunker's every droid went back to their normal routine like it had been no more than a particularly ominous sneeze.

"Hrm. Intriguing stipulations. A 64 person battle for survival against messed up robots and grimm, all to gather enough keycards and reach that top floor...alongside a random partner. First eye contact, huh?" Robyn repeated for her own benefit, fully letting that sink in. Forcing a team-up like that...would the actual sixteen people tournament have a team element too? Or was it just for a laugh? To make two people team up for the night, only to potentially throw them against each other in the elimination tournament? She wasn't sure. "What do you think about that?" She directed over to Winter and Cobalt.​

"Additionally, an extremely old, extremely hostile specimen of a different nature is currently imprisoned on the bunker's lowest level, marked 'Containment'. It's so aggressive it attacks its own kind; quite unlike the usual snarling beasts you're all no doubt used to cutting down in the dozens. Regardless of any one warrior's prowess, I can assure you anything it comes into contact with will almost certainly meet their end. This entity will be unleashed upon the bunker as well."

"DIBS! I CALL DIBS!!" ​

"All competitors will be required to isolate themselves prior to the event's initialization. Upon commencement, the first fighter you make eye contact with will become your partner for its duration—Your keycards will become inert to one another, and separation for a period greater than a half hour will result in both your immediate disqualifications. Now, you have less than 24 hours. I suggest you use them to sleep, enjoy yourselves and prepare. Your destinies have been rewritten. The only certainty is this: you're all one sleep from a bloodbath."

That particular method of choosing teammates brought about memories of a time long since past. When Team STRQ still existed...more than existed, even. There was a time when she thought they had felt invincible. When she was so sure that their bond was unbreakable. That come what may, the four of them would stand tall against whatever the world threw against them. Perhaps it was just her nature to think that. Bonds were a central point to Raven's life...it was how her personal superpower, her semblance, functioned. Bonds that she had thought would last forever. Perhaps it was that nature, or perhaps it was just her being caught up and infected by their leader's optimistic idealism. Whatever the case, the universe proved her thoughts on her team wrong. Tai was gone, Qrow turned his back, she had thrown herself into her work as a solo huntress even more, and...Summer...

Raven still didn't know for certain what had become of her in the years since.

She shook her head, banishing the unpleasant thoughts from her mind as she struggled to recompose herself. One of the people in here would end up having to work alongside her for the duration of the night to come. With her luck, she would likely end first glimpsing Tock. Whatever had gotten into the faunus clearly left her openly hostile. Even some stranger felt like it would be an improvement over that. Still, even if by some twist of fate that the first eyes she met weren't Tock's, Raven felt most assured that the older faunus would be among the 16 that made it. Liadan had been fighting against grimm for a long time now and...as far as she knew, the croc was the only one in 64 who wouldn't be stopped by death.

Unless Jabberguy disqualified her for that. That would be nice.​

 

[Gus Gungus]

She stood unmoving for a few seconds after that, plainly listening for more than just Eve's words...but when it seemed that there were no more grimm coming, she relaxed some. If more of the monsters did turn up, well, she trusted Eve would handle them just as effectively as with the ones already fading away. "Mhm." She grunted at the talk of her double. It still felt slightly strange talking about a her that was still...lost in that way. But she found herself not caring as much in this particular situation. If the other her was indeed spying...well, it wasn't like she could stop it, short of closing her eyes. But that would have meant cutting off the view of Eve's face...a pretty one, in spite of the scar left behind. The other her could watch all she liked, but she wasn't going to do that, and she wasn't going to give the Shadow Fang chameleon the satisfaction by being distraught about it now.

She strolled over to close the distance between them, halting well within arm's reach of Eve and lifting her head to look up at the taller faunus girl. "That's entirely up to you. But even if you go back to wherever the Shadow Fang are staying, that won't change what I know to be true. You're more than just a sword or a mask, more than whatever Sienna says you are, and...as far as I'm concerned, you really do deserve a whole lot better." Ilia said with a smile that managed to carry a hint of sadness. "Even if we end up on opposing sides in whatever the future brings here, even...even if we have to fight, that...it doesn't mean we have to hate each other. I think that's a choice we make ourselves. And even if all that does indeed come to pass....." Ilia stepped even closer, raising her head up to kiss Eve again, though it was brief. Initially.

"I'll still remember this fondly." She whispered when she pulled back slightly, and then after those words were spoken, she just went right back in for that kiss, intent on maintaining it for as long as was possible.

There was an uneasy sadness in Eve's face when Ilia came so close again, like a reluctance to proceed or even meet the girl's eyes. Not because she didn't want it, but because of how badly she did; how desperate she was to reach out and touch the other faunus even now, and the inner conflict arising from all the voices in her head screaming all the different reasons she shouldn't. They warred with the loneliness and strife aching her heart, the pain that had made her such a husk of who she used to be. Or just somebody more aware of what they always were.

The voices lost. Badly. The well of pain ran too deep, Eve at her most lonely and unloved in an entire lifetime of feeling lonely and unloved, the lowest point of a slope that had started the moment she turned her back on Blake instead of facing what came together. She had spent every second that slide hating herself and being hated, and everything about Ilia right now... the kindness in her words, the way the glow cast by blue dust deposits bounced off her freckles, how soft her body felt against hers... for someone who tended to follow impulsive instinct over deliberate thought, it was honestly almost too much. She shivered longingly as she felt Ilia getting closer, having shut her eyes in a facsimile of deep thought just so she wouldn't have to explain why her eyes could only meet the chameleon's for a second before they flitted away with an atypical meekness, and when the kiss came she accepted it as readily as a woman dying of thirst in a desert might accept water. She seemed disappointed by its briefness, and when it came back her hands were already pressed against either side of Ilia and stroking up and down her form of their own volition; a journey with the inevitable destination of her jumpsuit's zipper.

It was only partway down when her fingers brushed against something that made her falter. A scar, the gift left on Ilia's midriff when Blake had stabbed her at Haven just a few short months ago. Something about it had her playing back Ilia's words in her mind, and when they reached a certain point for whatever reason she felt a surge of confidence that almost looked something like her old resolve, breaking off their (impressively sustained) kiss with a sudden shake of the head.

"That's... not going to happen."

The tone she spoke with was light, like she surprised herself with how obvious a statement it was. The realization hit her that the flow of confidence she felt had been simple clarity; a reminder of who she was and what she stood for, and what she wouldn't allow. Something, either something Ilia had said or a conclusion Eve drew from it, had helped crystallize the murky ideals clouding her thoughts for months, and there was a more grateful ring to the way she suddenly grabbed both sides of the chameleon's face to mash their lips together and kiss her HARD.

It was a full ten seconds before she pulled away this time, likely no less flushed or out of breath than Ilia was, but there was a dazed elation in the way she smiled and used her sleeve to dab under her eyes.

"Ugh, s-sorry... I'm ruining it. It just hit me when you said we might have to fight one day how dumb I actually think that sounds. Of course I'm never going to hate you. And I'm never gonna fight you, either. I don't care who's on what side."

The realization had been a simple one, but that just made it all the more clear. Twice now a kind, well-meaning faunus with a good heart had been scarred, permanently, by an organization claiming to have the best interests of the faunus in mind. She hadn't committed a single wrongdoing. She was someone who had been hurt by humans, which made her as much an authority on how to deal with them as any of the high-and-mighty Talons. Her only crime was standing up for what she believed in, against a group of people who stood for the opposite, and they were bleeding her for it. That realization had been followed up by a swift, firm decision.

Anybody who tried to leave a third scar on this girl's body was signing their own death warrant.

Anybody.

She nursed Ilia's cheek in her hand, smile faint but still there. "Sienna can't sic me on whoever she decides is an enemy to our kind. She doesn't lead our kind. She leads murderers. I'm part of that, but..."

Eve knew she probably wasn't making much sense. Hopefully her conviction made up for it.

"...When we met, I told you I never abandon a faunus in need. I'm trying, but I... I haven't always been able to stay true to that." The smile finally disappeared, replaced by a distant frown as the hand at Ilia's waist instead went to her hand and took it, staring blankly at the scar left around the wrist. Her thumb gently stroked it, back and forth along the healed skin's seam. "So new promise. One I'm making it to you and every faunus out there who's still innocent. They don't hurt you again, ever. My mistakes don't hurt you again, ever. And if they ever try..."

Her eyes hardened, and there was genuine fight in them the likes of which hadn't been seen since before Haven.

"...I'll stop her."

And she didn't care who heard it, either. She pulled Ilia closer at the waist, and it was her turn to go in for the kiss without letting the other respond this time as she finally tugged that jumpsuit suit's zipper down the rest of the way and started making progress towards peeling it off.

Spoiler

And than a buncha other stuff happened not appropriate for this website, but let it be known Eve topped hard

 

[Gus Gungus]

There was a degree of amusement evident in her expression as Robyn looked over at one of the ones present that was close to her own age, behaving like that. The airheaded sound of that mock voice, what she was actually saying with that voice, that stare as Yang passed by and perhaps most funnily enough, the amount of drinks it took to turn the disciplined, composed and ordered Winter Schnee into someone who would probably be right at home in the setting of Mean Girls. "Huh. Kinda a lightweight, aren't you?" Robyn's tone of voice carried that same hint of amusement as her expression did, rather than any actual mean-spirited judgment. "Unless I'm underestimating just how strong those two drinks were. Fisticuffs really got to you, huh? Even her swagger upsets you."

Any further commentary on Robyn's part got interrupted, though.

"Hrm. Intriguing stipulations. A 64 person battle for survival against messed up robots and grimm, all to gather enough keycards and reach that top floor...alongside a random partner. First eye contact, huh?" Robyn repeated for her own benefit, fully letting that sink in. Forcing a team-up like that...would the actual sixteen people tournament have a team element too? Or was it just for a laugh? To make two people team up for the night, only to potentially throw them against each other in the elimination tournament? She wasn't sure. "What do you think about that?" She directed over to Winter and Cobalt.

Winter had held up an indignant finger and opened her mouth the moment Robyn made those first remarks, and although she was cut off somehow, someway, in a sheer fucking testament to the Schnee force of will, that finger stayed up the entire way through Jabberwocky's whole illusive speech and preliminary outline so she could finish her thought the moment it ended.

"It's not 'swagger', it's conceit. And I'm no lightweight, I just don't drink very much. I don't care for it."

She had her mother and early adolescence to thank for that. She just hummed irritably at the question about the briefing, letting her empty glass hit the table and pushing it towards Robyn.

"I think you should get me another one."



"Well ah think it sounds horrible! Truly an insurmountable deathtrap from which there is no escape. And how!"​

 

[MyrtenRose]

There was an uneasy sadness in Eve's face when Ilia came so close again, like a reluctance to proceed or even meet the girl's eyes. Not because she didn't want it, but because of how badly she did; how desperate she was to reach out and touch the other faunus even now, and the inner conflict arising from all the voices in her head screaming all the different reasons she shouldn't. They warred with the loneliness and strife aching her heart, the pain that had made her such a husk of who she used to be. Or just somebody more aware of what they always were.

The voices lost. Badly. The well of pain ran too deep, Eve at her most lonely and unloved in an entire lifetime of feeling lonely and unloved, the lowest point of a slope that had started the moment she turned her back on Blake instead of facing what came together. She had spent every second that slide hating herself and being hated, and everything about Ilia right now... the kindness in her words, the way the glow cast by blue dust deposits bounced off her freckles, how soft her body felt against hers... for someone who tended to follow impulsive instinct over deliberate thought, it was honestly almost too much. She shivered longingly as she felt Ilia getting closer, having shut her eyes in a facsimile of deep thought just so she wouldn't have to explain why her eyes could only meet the chameleon's for a second before they flitted away with an atypical meekness, and when the kiss came she accepted it as readily as a woman dying of thirst in a desert might accept water. She seemed disappointed by its briefness, and when it came back her hands were already pressed against either side of Ilia and stroking up and down her form of their own volition; a journey with the inevitable destination of her jumpsuit's zipper.

It was only partway down when her fingers brushed against something that made her falter. A scar, the gift left on Ilia's midriff when Blake had stabbed her at Haven just a few short months ago. Something about it had her playing back Ilia's words in her mind, and when they reached a certain point for whatever reason she felt a surge of confidence that almost looked something like her old resolve, breaking off their (impressively sustained) kiss with a sudden shake of the head.

"That's... not going to happen."

The tone she spoke with was light, like she surprised herself with how obvious a statement it was. The realization hit her that the flow of confidence she felt had been simple clarity; a reminder of who she was and what she stood for, and what she wouldn't allow. Something, either something Ilia had said or a conclusion Eve drew from it, had helped crystallize the murky ideals clouding her thoughts for months, and there was a more grateful ring to the way she suddenly grabbed both sides of the chameleon's face to mash their lips together and kiss her HARD.

It was a full ten seconds before she pulled away this time, likely no less flushed or out of breath than Ilia was, but there was a dazed elation in the way she smiled and used her sleeve to dab under her eyes.

"Ugh, s-sorry... I'm ruining it. It just hit me when you said we might have to fight one day how dumb I actually think that sounds. Of course I'm never going to hate you. And I'm never gonna fight you, either. I don't care who's on what side."

The realization had been a simple one, but that just made it all the more clear. Twice now a kind, well-meaning faunus with a good heart had been scarred, permanently, by an organization claiming to have the best interests of the faunus in mind. She hadn't committed a single wrongdoing. She was someone who had been hurt by humans, which made her as much an authority on how to deal with them as any of the high-and-mighty Talons. Her only crime was standing up for what she believed in, against a group of people who stood for the opposite, and they were bleeding her for it. That realization had been followed up by a swift, firm decision.

Anybody who tried to leave a third scar on this girl's body was signing their own death warrant.

Anybody.

She nursed Ilia's cheek in her hand, smile faint but still there. "Sienna can't sic me on whoever she decides is an enemy to our kind. She doesn't lead our kind. She leads murderers. I'm part of that, but..."

Eve knew she probably wasn't making much sense. Hopefully her conviction made up for it.

"...When we met, I told you I never abandon a faunus in need. I'm trying, but I... I haven't always been able to stay true to that." The smile finally disappeared, replaced by a distant frown as the hand at Ilia's waist instead went to her hand and took it, staring blankly at the scar left around the wrist. Her thumb gently stroked it, back and forth along the healed skin's seam. "So new promise. One I'm making it to you and every faunus out there who's still innocent. They don't hurt you again, ever. My mistakes don't hurt you again, ever. And if they ever try..."

Her eyes hardened, and there was genuine fight in them the likes of which hadn't been seen since before Haven.

"...I'll stop her."

And she didn't care who heard it, either. She pulled Ilia closer at the waist, and it was her turn to go in for the kiss without letting the other respond this time as she finally tugged that jumpsuit suit's zipper down the rest of the way and started making progress towards peeling it off.

Spoiler

And than a buncha other stuff happened not appropriate for this website, but let it be known Eve topped hard

Whatever response Ilia might have had to all of that, none of it got to reveal itself thanks to Ilia patiently waiting until she was sure Eve was done speaking. At which point, the bull pulling in the chameleon for that kiss cut off any possible reply that could have come. A grateful appreciation of that new promise, complete
with a thank you the likes of which Remnant had never seen. A prideful response when she recognized some of that fiery resolve return to Eve's eyes. The awestruck feeling she felt that this was actually happening. The stubborn statement that Eve was not ruining a single thing here. The hardly contained longing that threatened to explode out of her as the bull gracefully ran her fingers across her skin. None of that really got to be expressed(or expressed further in some cases), for the only thing that did manage to come out was a flustered eeeeeeeek that gradually shifted into a pleased moan of her own when that latest kiss came in.

And then, it just sank in all the more that this was really, 100% happening, as she felt her outfit being peeled off. Suffice it to say, on a list of things she had expected would happen here, this was nowhere near the top. Life had thrown her expectations a curveball, but that thought was only brief. Somewhere back in the farthest reaches of her mind. She was in too deep to really think too hard about much right now, and she felt her own hands scrambling to rip Eve right out of her clothes in turn with an eagerness that somehow managed to come across as adorable. Yet despite being more exposed to the cold that Solitas was well known for, the chameleon only felt even more warm. It spiraled from there.

It was funny, in a way. If someone had told her six months ago that she would not only be making out with a female version of Adam Taurus in a whole other universe, but...going way beyond that even...she would have assumed they were a runaway asylum patient. But here she was.

And when all was said and done, when their respective longings had run their course, wherever they ended up in the abandoned dust mine...only one word immediately escaped from the chameleon's mouth. A single word that nevertheless managed to say volumes. "...Wow." She exclaimed in between restless breaths, her head slowly turning to look at Eve's face, adding shortly after: "That...that was amazing." She paused for a short while after that, one hand absently running through that soft red hair as she gathered her thoughts.

When she spoke up again, it was with one of the many sentences she hadn't managed to say earlier. "It's your choice, and no one else's, and I know you implied it would be foolish for me to think this would change anything, but...I feel like I have to say it."​

She nursed Ilia's cheek in her hand, smile faint but still there. "Sienna can't sic me on whoever she decides is an enemy to our kind. She doesn't lead our kind. She leads murderers. I'm part of that, but..."

"You don't have to be part of Sienna's cult of murderers and terrorists. Not if you don't want to. You may think that being with them is the only place you feel you belong, but...I disagree. I believe the resistance here would welcome you, if you reached out. And even if they didn't, you...you could stay by my side. You know, just us two. I would like that. More than like." Her expression suddenly shifted. "But yeah, like you said. I didn't come intending to seduce you away from anything. Just know, that whatever happens, wherever your decisions take you...I may not be as great a fighter as you, but if anybody else hurts you...if they even attempt it...I'll do everything I can to be there for you too. I swear." ​

 

[MyrtenRose]

Winter had held up an indignant finger and opened her mouth the moment Robyn made those first remarks, and although she was cut off somehow, someway, in a sheer fucking testament to the Schnee force of will, that finger stayed up the entire way through Jabberwocky's whole illusive speech and preliminary outline so she could finish her thought the moment it ended.

"It's not 'swagger', it's conceit. And I'm no lightweight, I just don't drink very much. I don't care for it."

She had her mother and early adolescence to thank for that. She just hummed irritably at the question about the briefing, letting her empty glass hit the table and pushing it towards Robyn.

"I think you should get me another one."

View attachment 733113

"Well ah think it sounds horrible! Truly an insurmountable deathtrap from which there is no escape. And how!"​

"Impressive." Robyn commented on just how long even a drunk Winter managed to keep that finger up, before swiftly moving on. "Message received." The leader of the Happy Huntresses nodded, calling for one of those automatons walking about to get the nice lady some more...Robyn blinked, temporarily unsure of what exactly to order, before she just shrugged and asked for two glasses of whiskey as she got one for herself too. Her attention swiveled towards Cobalt. "Oh, agreed, it doesn't sound like the most pleasant of things, but...well, we knew the risks going in. Here's hoping we all make it out."​

 

[MidwayLives]

​

"But make no mistake. Nothing is predetermined, not all souls are created equal, and many of you will not live to see your noble purposes achieved. For those unfortunates, let there be no regrets. You will have your fates rewritten, your destiny becoming to die a glorious death on the field of battle among peers and equals. It's a harsh, unforgiving world we live in. What more can a fighter ask for?"

Peppered in with the more innocuous images flashing through were now pictures of violence, death, and general chaos. Still-frames from past tournaments, the savage consequences of failing to heed Grimm environmental modifiers or aftereffects of a particularly destructive semblance on a particularly depleted aura.

"With that in mind, the preliminary round will be as follows. Sixty-four of you are currently listening to this broadcast across all thirty of this facility's levels, but only sixteen fighters will be proceeding to the elimination tournament proper. At sunset tomorrow, each and every one of the androids you see will be set to recognize all living entities as hostile, while a particularly swift and vicious strain of Grimm will be released into the facility from the arrivals center. Additionally, an extremely old, extremely hostile specimen of a different nature is currently imprisoned on the bunker's lowest level, marked 'Containment'. It's so aggressive it attacks its own kind; quite unlike the usual snarling beasts you're all no doubt used to cutting down in the dozens. Regardless of any one warrior's prowess, I can assure you anything it comes into contact with will almost certainly meet their end. This entity will be unleashed upon the bunker as well."

The depictions of violence and carnage were starting to supplant the more innocent ones as the helmet's dominant visual, the occasional red eyes and fangs eerily placed against the material's darkened shine.

"The first condition for successfully achieving victory is simple: Survive the night. The second is slightly more complex. Each of you will be provided with a keycard; Come sunrise, the facility's top floor will unseal, and there will you find your exit. The first sixteen competitors to reach this floor bearing three keycards will be able to unlock the door and escape. These sixteen will form the actual tournament's bracket; the order in which they reach the door will determine the seeding. Keycards can be attained by taking them from other competitors, or their remains. Clear enough? Oh, and one final caveat. For my own amusement, more than anything. A stroke of genius I credit to my old academy's bizarre initiation rites."

It occurred to those listening that this was the first time the speaker's tone had experienced any kind of an uptick or shift in emotion at all; seemingly a fond lilt of nostalgic whimsy.

"All competitors will be required to isolate themselves prior to the event's initialization. Upon commencement, the first fighter you make eye contact with will become your partner for its duration. Your keycards will become inert to one another, and separation for a period greater than a half hour will result in both your immediate disqualifications. Now, you have less than 24 hours. I suggest you use them to sleep, enjoy yourselves and prepare. Your destinies have been rewritten. The only certainty is this: you're all one sleep from a bloodbath."

The holograms all flickered off, and the competitors were left to digest the message as the bunker's every droid went back to their normal routine like it had been no more than a particularly ominous sneeze.

He knew that this wasn't going to be easy. That he'd known exactly what he'd signed up for when he decided to participate. He hadn't been raised as a fighter and had zero intentions of ever joining the military like his father and his father before him. Holding a gun and being told to take out Atlas's enemies simply wasn't what he wanted to do with his life. A scroll and the truth were his weapons of choice. But after the whole debacle with Weiss had left them running like cowering dogs, he wasn't sure where to go from there. The footage he'd managed to obtain wouldn't have swayed the public as much as he would have liked or at all. Sure, it might have been on the lips of some 'how did Schnee get so strong?' 'Was she always this powerful?' But nothing that'd lead for the people to turn against the woman who'd gone and framed herself as their hero, their protector, their savior.

When Ironwood spoke of this tournament and what was at stake, he couldn't stay behind and let others risk their lives for the chance at earning a better tomorrow. Not without giving it his all himself. Leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest, he thought back to the image he'd seen in the mirror: a skull. His odds of outright winning the contest were flimsy at best, ludicrous at worst. There was a far more likely chance that he'd find an opponent who'd beat him to a pulp. As frightening as the circumstances seemed, he couldn't let fear of what may happen consume him.

It'd drive him to madness otherwise.

'Calling this...'difficult' is perhaps the understatement of the decade. No, I'm in trouble here.'

Grey sighed.

'But what's done is done. All I can do from here on is....all that I can.'

~~~





Having walked away from Nora and settling in at a table by herself, Ruby listened to their host's explanation.

Killing Grimm was no problem whatsoever. In fact it was about as far from a threat in her mind that it didn't even merit consideration. But given what she'd been up to as of late, the idea of cutting down Grimm knowing and having met the man behind them. That she'd left his side to join Weiss and willingly at that. Normally when fears like that arose in her, it caused her to grow tense and clutch at her stump. It was a reminder of when she'd been weak and very nearly died protecting the one person in her life that Ruby could boss around. Instead her fingertips found nothing but metal and a soft smile bloomed. It'd been so long since she'd had a new artificial arm. Maybe it was just frustration or general pent-up anxiety from having been locked up for so long despite her loyalty to the cause but she couldn't make a replacement herself.

Everytime she picked up a wrench or looked at her desk full of screws and bolts, it pissed her off. She could do this with only one arm. It'd been done before, sure it'd taken time but it was definitely possible. Yet every attempt ended up with her knocking her tools to the floor in a fit of anger followed by sadness at her own perceived weakness.

That'd all changed when she ran into Weiss.

For once in her life she'd gotten a home with someone who wasn't a scoundrel. Decisions were tough and yet Weiss pushed forward making them without question. It was a dedication to doing what she believed in that often left Ruby hot under the collar. Such passion, such passionate disregard for those who believe her to be wrong or some kind of monster. They were misguided fools who simply couldn't grasp her actions and the weight behind them. It was all admirable and ontop of that, it was during her time with Weiss that Ruby had finally decided to forge out who 'Ruby Rose' was rather than continuing to drift through life as just 'The Red Masque'

It didn't matter who got in her way.

Grimm, machine, man.

She'd push through all of them.

Her mechanical arm gave the slightest of whirrs and clicks as she closed her hand up into a fist.

'I'll do this not just for you, Weiss. But for the both of us.'

~~~

Satin didn't indulge much in the usual vices that were afforded to those in power.

It just wasn't interesting to him. He needed something to drive him. Anything that'd get his blood pumping.

Taking another sip from his drink, he wiped at his lips and gingerly set the glass back on the counter.

Whether or not he'd actually committed the murders he'd been labeled as a suspect for was information privy only to the Boss and Satin himself. But so long as he conducted himself with the utmost loyalty to the Ashes and the Boss's will, his past didn't matter. The same thing applied in a place like this. You could be scum that wouldn't be fit to crawl in the dankest of ditches. Or you could be here for more positive reasons. Whatever those may have been, someone like Satin freely admitted he couldn't think of them. Wasn't really his avenue of thinking. He was here to get what he'd been ordered to and if some people had to fry on the road to get there?

Well, that'd be just fine.

He finished off his glass and set it back down, the sides of the glass having been slightly warped and the ice melted.

Time to see what some of the others here could do~​

 

[Gus Gungus]

Whatever response Ilia might have had to all of that, none of it got to reveal itself thanks to Ilia patiently waiting until she was sure Eve was done speaking. At which point, the bull pulling in the chameleon for that kiss cut off any possible reply that could have come. A grateful appreciation of that new promise, complete
with a thank you the likes of which Remnant had never seen. A prideful response when she recognized some of that fiery resolve return to Eve's eyes. The awestruck feeling she felt that this was actually happening. The stubborn statement that Eve was not ruining a single thing here. The hardly contained longing that threatened to explode out of her as the bull gracefully ran her fingers across her skin. None of that really got to be expressed(or expressed further in some cases), for the only thing that did manage to come out was a flustered eeeeeeeek that gradually shifted into a pleased moan of her own when that latest kiss came in.

And then, it just sank in all the more that this was really, 100% happening, as she felt her outfit being peeled off. Suffice it to say, on a list of things she had expected would happen here, this was nowhere near the top. Life had thrown her expectations a curveball, but that thought was only brief. Somewhere back in the farthest reaches of her mind. She was in too deep to really think too hard about much right now, and she felt her own hands scrambling to rip Eve right out of her clothes in turn with an eagerness that somehow managed to come across as adorable. Yet despite being more exposed to the cold that Solitas was well known for, the chameleon only felt even more warm. It spiraled from there.

It was funny, in a way. If someone had told her six months ago that she would not only be making out with a female version of Adam Taurus in a whole other universe, but...going way beyond that even...she would have assumed they were a runaway asylum patient. But here she was.

And when all was said and done, when their respective longings had run their course, wherever they ended up in the abandoned dust mine...only one word immediately escaped from the chameleon's mouth. A single word that nevertheless managed to say volumes. "...Wow." She exclaimed in between restless breaths, her head slowly turning to look at Eve's face, adding shortly after: "That...that was amazing." She paused for a short while after that, one hand absently running through that soft red hair as she gathered her thoughts.

When she spoke up again, it was with one of the many sentences she hadn't managed to say earlier. "It's your choice, and no one else's, and I know you implied it would be foolish for me to think this would change anything, but...I feel like I have to say it."



"You don't have to be part of Sienna's cult of murderers and terrorists. Not if you don't want to. You may think that being with them is the only place you feel you belong, but...I disagree. I believe the resistance here would welcome you, if you reached out. And even if they didn't, you...you could stay by my side. You know, just us two. I would like that. More than like." Her expression suddenly shifted. "But yeah, like you said. I didn't come intending to seduce you away from anything. Just know, that whatever happens, wherever your decisions take you...I may not be as great a fighter as you, but if anybody else hurts you...if they even attempt it...I'll do everything I can to be there for you too. I swear."

Eve, on the other hand, was playing it cool, or as cool as could be with their bodies huddled together as closely as they were. It was a far cry from her usual sullen brooding, though. On the contrary; with her eyes closed and the perennial tension in her muscles relaxed she looked downright serene, if her typically aloof self about it. But there was nothing tense or closed-off about the silence, and more than anything it was just comfortable. With as isolated—both physically and emotionally—as she'd been feeling, someone as soft and enthusiastic as Ilia to lose herself in had been... She didn't even know the words to describe what it had been, or how grateful she was, or what the butterflies doing somersaults in her stomach right now felt like. She just hoped she'd been able to pay it back all the way with her own ferocious eagerness. And sure enough she had rocked Ilia's world, because for better or worse Tauruses were beings of unbridled passion and frankly she was as much of a wild thing in the sack as she was outside it.

Huh. Part of her always wondered what that might be like.

Now it seemed like the last thing she wanted to do was let go of her, and barring any objections they were still a messy tangle of naked limbs under the cloak she'd arrived wearing, just about big enough to wrap around the both of them. Her head was up against the chameleon's chest, tuned senses trained on her heart's rhythm no less easily than if it were the actual beat of a drum, letting its steady thump soothe her. She pinched and curled a lock of Ilia's hair straightened out from the main body in more absent fashion than her own messy tangle was being stroked, eyes flitting open when the other gave her assessment to fix blankly on the tunnel leading out for a brief moment of impulsive paranoia before she let herself unwind in the smaller woman's arms again.

"It was... cold."

And it was. Some skin just wasn't meant to touch ice for so long without the protective layer of a shirt or pants. But their aura kept it from being anything to actually worry about, there was too much fondness in the words for them to be taken as anything other than playful, and just to drive the point home she slowly lifted her gaze from bust to face with eyes lidded. They flashed with something a little predatory, which in any other context would have been adequate cause for alarm.

In this one, all it preempted was Ilia's appeal to the bull being complicated by her softly kissing her way up from where she was, moving across the collar and ending in a lingering one on the corner of her lips. She had shifted almost all her weight onto the other's lap by that point, and she just let it settle there as firmly as the look she let settle over eyes when she pulled away.

"No."

That was the long and short of her feelings on all of that, and for most people it would've been the extent of her explanation. For her, though... she nestled closer further against her warm frame beneath the cloak, murmuring contentedly.

"I had a million reasons for going back to the Shadow Fang. No offense, but it's a hell of a lot more relevant to me than whatever you people have been doing in Atlas for months. And like I said, I've... turned my back on some faunus who needed help before. But that's not what I... it's just not something I can ever do again. Not willingly."

The words were laced with sadness, but that didn't stop her from giving a deadpan snort when Ilia made her own vow of protection in return.

"Right. Think you're mixing up who's scary and who's cute here, but I'll keep that in mind. You should be focused on getting back where you belong, though. Don't get what's so hard for you tourists to understand about not getting tangled up in our world's crap."

...Oh god. That reminded her.

"That blonde with the hair implants. Still a bitch?"​

 

[MyrtenRose]

"It was... cold."

And it was. Some skin just wasn't meant to touch ice for so long without the protective layer of a shirt or pants. But their aura kept it from being anything to actually worry about, there was too much fondness in the words for them to be taken as anything other than playful, and just to drive the point home she slowly lifted her gaze from bust to face with eyes lidded. They flashed with something a little predatory, which in any other context would have been adequate cause for alarm.

In this one, all it preempted was Ilia's appeal to the bull being complicated by her softly kissing her way up from where she was, moving across the collar and ending in a lingering one on the corner of her lips. She had shifted almost all her weight onto the other's lap by that point, and she just let it settle there as firmly as the look she let settle over eyes when she pulled away.

"Lucky I had someone to warm up with, huh--wait was that look abou--oh my god." Her second cutting off her own words came out in a soft whisper, though it was far from an alarmed one. It was just, absurdly difficult to handle the frankly cute sight of Eve working her way up like that and how good it felt. Be still my heart!! God, this meeting really had not gone anywhere near where she had expected it to go. She had planned for some emotional pleading, expected some angry shouts in return, maybe some actual pushing away and probably some genuine threats to stay far away...getting more or less tackled by Eve and getting her neck nuzzled by the bull's face had not been in the agenda. Ending up in a entangled mess with the redhead atop Solitas snow hadn't been on there either, and if there were any regrets here it was totally that she had not chosen a hotel room to meet up at. Yeah, it wouldn't have been anywhere near as isolated at this, but way more comfortable in that sense. Oh well. Benefit of hindsight.​

"No."

That was the long and short of her feelings on all of that, and for most people it would've been the extent of her explanation. For her, though... she nestled closer further against her warm frame beneath the cloak, murmuring contentedly.

"I had a million reasons for going back to the Shadow Fang. No offense, but it's a hell of a lot more relevant to me than whatever you people have been doing in Atlas for months. And like I said, I've... turned my back on some faunus who needed help before. But that's not what I... it's just not something I can never do again. Not willingly."

"..."

"Yeah, you definitely sound like Blake here. That's something she would have said, pretty sure. Not the one still under Sienna's thumb, but..." She averted her eyes in sadness for a brief couple seconds. "She didn't go back to the Fang, but...it was her idea to start a new movement to help all of us. To make our world better. She didn't turn her back on me either, even when she...probably should have." She shook her head, returning her attention to here and now. "So yeah, understood. I get it." Ilia nodded.​

The words were laced with sadness, but that didn't stop her from giving a deadpan snort when Ilia made her own vow of protection in return.

"Right. Think you're mixing up who's scary and who's cute here, but I'll keep that in mind. You should be focused on getting back where you belong, though. Don't get what's so hard for you tourists about not getting tangled up in our world's crap."

"...Hey!" She suddenly blurted out in righteous indignation. "You just gonna ignore how adorably cute it was, the way you just kissed your way up like that?" She pointed out, her spots and even her hair shining pink as she did so. "Because I won't." Ilia smirked. "Besides, not like you hold a monopoly on being scary. I can be scary." There was only a lil bit of being defensive there. Just a tad. "And yeah, well, we're stuck here for...heck, I don't know how long it'll be. It would be kind of hard to avoid getting wrapped up in what's going on over here. And getting wrapped up in your body too, I guess. Heh."​

...Oh god. That reminded her.

"That blonde with the hair implants. Still a bitch?"

A brief flash of the memory of an Ilia shaped hole in one of the Schnee manor's walls surfaced up before Ilia managed to mentally punch it back down.

"Uh...nope? Was she ever? She just...things are weird, that's all." ​

 

[Gus Gungus]

"..."

"Yeah, you definitely sound like Blake here. That's something she would have said, pretty sure. Not the one still under Sienna's thumb, but..." She averted her eyes in sadness for a brief couple seconds. "She didn't go back to the Fang, but...it was her idea to start a new movement to help all of us. To make our world better. She didn't turn her back on me either, even when she...probably should have." She shook her head, returning her attention to here and now. "So yeah, understood. I get it." Ilia nodded.

Her feelings at the thought of being compared to some other Remnant's Blake were inscrutable, outside of the vaguely affronted glower her gaze shifted to affix Ilia with at the implications there. "Really, Amitola?"

There wasn't any bite to the annoyance, though, and it probably didn't help her case much that even her grumpiness was a little reminiscent of someone else's. Whatever girl Ilia and Yang knew was one unknown quantity she hadn't made much effort to unpack, and if at all possible she planned on keeping it that way. It'd just make her sad.

Hearing that, though... She buried her face deeper in the crook of Ilia's neck and exhaled, breath warm and tickly on the chameleon's skin.

"Then it sounds like the girl you know did everything right, which is more than I can say for me or my Blake. Hff. Figures. I always was dumber than her."

True to her expectations, there was an undeniable melancholy to her eyes and words as she started pondering might-have-beens. Yet as if in defiance of those same predictions, so too was there a tangible ring of hope. What exactly for, she didn't know, but it was there.

"...Is she... happy? I mean is... t-that other me, was it... did he screw her up or anything?"

"...Hey!" She suddenly blurted out in righteous indignation. "You just gonna ignore how adorably cute it was, the way you just kissed your way up like that?" She pointed out, her spots and even her hair shining pink as she did so. "Because I won't." Ilia smirked. "Besides, not like you hold a monopoly on being scary. I can be scary." There was only a lil bit of being defensive there. Just a tad. "And yeah, well, we're stuck here for...heck, I don't know how long it'll be. It would be kind of hard to avoid getting wrapped up in what's going on over here. And getting wrapped up in your body too, I guess. Heh."

Her shoulders quaked in a semi-concealed snicker, and it was eyes rife with amusement as well as that same wolfish longing that met Ilia's again. Whatever it was about seeing the chameleon blush so hard her entire complexion changed with it only seemed to thrill the primal instincts inside the bull, and the fact that they were spent for now didn't mean the urge to put her mouth all over whatever got her heart going that way was any less strong, A fact Ilia was becoming acutely aware of, given how Eve's lips were caressing her neck again as she used them to chase her all the way back against the wall if need be, ending with a scratchy whisper and a playful nip on the ear lobe.

"That's not cute, it just means I think it's cute when you squirm. Really now, you can be scary? What does that look like? Gonna make your colors Grimm-themed instead?"

Her voice was in equal parts flirtatiously inviting and affectionately mocking. She was willing to bet Ilia had never felt so loved and bullied all at once before in her entire life.

A brief flash of the memory of an Ilia shaped hole in one of the Schnee manor's walls surfaced up before Ilia managed to mentally punch it back down.

"Uh...nope? Was she ever? She just...things are weird, that's all."

There was nothing affectionate about the growl she gave that, but she left it there. Unfortunately it was better for all of them if she didn't know the details.​

 

[MyrtenRose]

Hearing that, though... She buried her face deeper in the crook of Ilia's neck and exhaled, breath warm and tickly on the chameleon's skin.

"Then it sounds like the girl you know did everything right, which is more than I can say for me or my Blake. Hff. Figures. I always was dumber than her."

Ilia had to strain really hard to focus on what Eve was saying, instead of on how that breath felt brushing against her skin. Tickling. So unfair. But by the gods, she managed all the same. "I wouldn't go that far. Doing everything right? It might seem that way, from the outside, but...if she was here, I'm sure Blake herself would acknowledge that she did plenty wrong. Nobody in the history of any Remnant has ever done everything right. That's just...impossible." ​

True to her expectations, there was an undeniable melancholy to her eyes and words as she started pondering might-have-beens. Yet as if in defiance of those same predictions, so too was there a tangible ring of hope. What exactly for, she didn't know, but it was there.

"...Is she... happy? I mean is... t-that other me, was it... did he screw her up or anything?"

"The last time I saw her, yes. She was happy. She and the rest of her team and a couple of her other friends, she'd reunited with them, and in the process helped save Haven. It...was kind of the opposite of what happened here. Beacon remained standing but Haven fell...back home, Beacon fell but Haven remained more or less intact. There's...no denying that Adam left his mark on Blake, but I know she's grown past that, so much. The last time I saw him, she...well, she sent him running away from Haven with his tail firmly tucked between his legs. So, there's that." ​

Her shoulders quaked in a semi-concealed snicker, and it was eyes rife with amusement as well as that same wolfish longing that met Ilia's again. Whatever it was about seeing the chameleon blush so hard her entire complexion changed with it only seemed to thrill the primal instincts inside the bull, and the fact that they were spent for now didn't mean the urge to put her mouth all over whatever got her heart going that way was any less strong, A fact Ilia was becoming acutely aware of, given how Eve's lips were caressing her neck again as she used them to chase her all the way back against the wall if need be, ending with a scratchy whisper and a playful nip on the ear lobe.

So. Not. Fair.

It was taking all her willpower to somewhat restrain herself from getting right back into what they had just been doing, as those lips caressed her neck, as she got pushed back against the wall once more, and especially at whatever that was with her ear. She bit her own lip, hard, trying to chomp down on the urges and keep them buried as best she could.​

"That's not cute, it just means I think it's cute when you squirm. Really now, you can be scary? What does that look like? Gonna make your colors Grimm-themed instead?"

Her voice was in equal parts flirtatiously inviting and affectionately mocking. She was willing to bet Ilia had never felt so loved and bullied all at once before in her entire life.

"You're so unfair." She felt at least somewhat annoyed by the mockery, and thankfully that served as a good buffer disguise for the trace amounts of shame she felt that a part of her actually...liked that. "I could, yes!!" Ilia replied. "Grimm masks, please, I can go the whole nine yards with that, so don't patronize me!!" She stomped her foot against the ice beneath as further punctuation to that sentence. "There's more than a few Atlesian schoolgirls who can attest to the fact I can be plenty scary! Their smiles weren't so nice after that."

​

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

Char liked this bar.

He liked the staff, hell, he'd even played cards with them a couple of times.

Sure, he'd always tended to lose but he never held it against them. They were some of the few people besides Blanche who didn't look at him like a chump. That he was a schmuck without his semblance backing him up. To them he was just Char their drinking buddy.

Which meant that it ate away at him the more these kids seemed eager to play hide and seek with him. His entrance hadn't exactly been stealthy so why weren't they coming to get him? There wasn't any way they could have left, his Null Zone would have stopped any teleportation or speed semblances. He didn't wanna demolish this place, those hadn't been his orders. But if these punks didn't start showing themselves-

Well, here was...someone.

Aurora had mentioned that Black's spawn wasn't working alone. He may have said something about their semblances but if he had, Char hadn't listened. Whatever they were it didn't matter. They were in here and their semblances may as well have been left outside for all the good they'd do them now! Looking over Neo, Char's face scrunched up briefly in disgust. Pink hair....So, guess the theory that Aurora dyed his hair that color was wrong after all. He owed Vanille a soda. He didn't take any steps towards Neo, her murmur of realization that this armed stranger likely had something to do with her semblance not working and the hum coming from Riot Breaker being the only sounds as of this moment.

"Oi. Kid."

Char took a step forward.

"Name's Char. My comrades call me 'Tears of the Rat' and I'm a member of the Bound Ashes's Hitman Team. Not here to rough up any civvies so I'll let you got on your merry way..." His grip tightened around the handle of his blade. "....Once you answer a question of mine. Marcus Black's kid is here somewhere. Where? Tell me and I'll let you just walk on by. It'll be like we never met."

"...Though if that little umbrella of yours is full of tricks, then c'mon. I'm itching for a fight."

Neo's eyes widened as the man informed her he was literally an assassin, and she clutched her parasol close to her chest with both hands as she quickly shook her head and pointed at her mouth. She took a shaky step backwards as she did so, almost immediately bumping into the wall behind her in the process

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

About eight floors and a hundred yards north of the bar, the mirror inside the door marked arrivals shimmered and rippled like a stone dropped in a pool of mercury as the second contender in as many minutes to arrive did so.

View attachment 732947

"Barmaid? Where are you, little one?"

Her voice boomed throughout the metallic confines of the living area, projected outward by majestic neck muscles that were thicker and more defined than most bodybuilder's biceps. Some of the headhunters, mercenaries and tournament fighters shrank back around corners and out of view the moment she curled up her dense frame to fit through the door, backing off just from the sight of the woman and the immense reserves of aura her brutish form gave off. Anyone with that much spiritual strength and that many naturally toned muscles despite it had to be some kind of monster.

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"CookieCookieCOOOOOOKIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! Why, ya best gal's only right up here!!!!!~" The tanuki faunus laughed, sparkled and waved a handkerchief down at the behemoth bouncer from a bridge between platforms higher up, having spent the time waiting for her simp backup to arrive enjoying the attention of a number of her fellow competitors who watched the new arrivals from balconies. They turned out so nice once she got all up in their faces and called them out for creepin!

Cookie immediately shrieked, as the tiny dancer was covered nearly head to toe in all manner of shallow cuts, scrapes and lesions. Her mighty legs touched on the platform with a BOOOOOOOM to rival any Hulk's, shaking the entire bridge and drawing a short, strangled scream from one of the other combatants that cut off sharply when she scattered them to the five winds with a single titanic punch. She immediately fell to one knee, frown lines deep as ridges and fringe casting a long, deep shadow over her brow.

View attachment 732970

"I've... failed. Never before have I let harm befall a single hair on a single dancer... You must tell me, little one. How did this come to pass...?"

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The barmaid forced herself to recover from the momentary state of shellshocked catatonia she'd lapsed into from Cookie's landing, making herself look as cute as faunusly possible with lashes aflutter on eyes that seemed extra large, hands clasped by her collarbone in a maidenly way, and a ditzy lower lip wobble for good measure. "W-W-Well ya see, Cookielicious, I kinda did that ta myself by lookin' the boss's scary face dead in the eye."

View attachment 732977

"..."

View attachment 732978

"..." Her tail swished apprehensively.

View attachment 732979

"The one act the instructions specifically say not to commit."

View attachment 732981

"Yea, that's the one."

View attachment 732982

"Why did you do this foolish thing?"

View attachment 732983

Cookie's rapid increase in intensity finally had her cutesy pokerface snap, and she slipped into a defensive approach instead as she reared forward with lips trembling and hands planted firmly on her hips. "Same reason anyone plays that DUMB bathroom game she lifted the words from, ta see if I died okay???? I didn't, and boss has the scariest semblance either of us know! If she couldn't ice me when she went berserk then that means I belong here, ya hear me, so I don't wantcher coddlin' me or babyin' me or treatin' me like I'm some fragile eggshell waitin' ta be crac-"

View attachment 732987

Cookie hoped any such concerns were ejected from the barmaid's brain along with at least a little of the stupid during the five-minute thrashing that ensued. Unbeknownst to either, the countdown board looming over the room casually rolled over to 64.

---



"-And can you believe how self-possessed the way she walks is??? Hiiiii,~ my chest grew in when I was thirteen and I'm gonna make sure the entire world knows it, hehe!~" Wherever Robyn was sitting an age-old question nobody asked had finally been answered, which was how many drinks it took the uptight, responsible Winter Schnee to start curling her hair around a finger and doing airheaded valley girl impersonations. Two. Two drinks. She scowled, shooting a glare in the direction of Yang's caper again. "Honestly, how sure are we that this lascivious act of hers is even an act? Doesn't it seem like it's coming a bit too easy to her? Look I am not fixated, I simply know better than anyone how lonely my sister is, and the potential negative ramifications of some island-dwelling tart hanging out of her for two months, batting her eyelashes and showing cleavage and enabling all her poor decisions, are nothing to be-! Shh, she's coming. Make it look like we weren't talking about her."

View attachment 732933

The silence reigning over Winter's table, EXTREMELY uncomfortable look on Cobalt's face, and long, piercing frown she gave Yang when she walked by kind of made it seem like they were talking about her. It was hard to tell though.



Suddenly, the room's ambient music and all the whirring of automatons as they moved around came to a sudden, distinct halt. It was difficult for even the most dulled of senses to miss an entire bar's background noise fading, and the last of the conversations died out only a few seconds later as everyone in the room waited to see where this was going. Those who had already taken the plunge into the semblance pits once before and lived looked more assured than the others, less apprehensive about what was about to happen, and when a single, mechanical chime sounded some of them even bared their teeth in grins of enthusiastic malice. Some of them had been waiting days, even weeks.

That sound meant it was almost time.

From every droid both in the bar and across the entire span of the bunker the flickering image of a hologram was projected, conjuring an intangible avatar of a lone figure in a chair as the newcomers were given a look at their mysterious benefactor for the first time. Jabberwocky was neither large nor imposing, their legs curled beneath them like they were about to watch Netflix and a baggy tracksuit disguising their gender, but the most unsettling thing about them was easily the helmet they wore.

View attachment 733012

The entire thing was a screen, almost disorienting to look at as various images and messages flashed, blinked and rolled across the sleek black surface at intervals that were never more than a second. Many were innocuous enough; harmless song lyrics like MIRROR MIRROR, commonly spoken proverbs, even the odd meme or two that went well over most of the room's head. The most commonly recurring logo was that same grinning cat face, the right eye glowing as its eyes swiveled from left to right slyly.

"Hello, hello. The necessary participant quotient has now been reached. The eleventh Semblance Pit will commence at sunset tomorrow. I thank you all for your commitment, and applaud the strength and potency of each and every spirit gathered here. Congratulations; if you're listening, it means your aura and semblance were gauged, catalogued, and deemed acceptable for entry. These tools are, of course, directly reflective of the soul that manifests them. Be proud. Finding your way here means you were destined to achieve great things."

That was around the images flickering across the helmet started to take a turn for the disturbing.

"But make no mistake. Nothing is predetermined, not all souls are created equal, and many of you will not live to see your noble purposes achieved. For those unfortunates, let there be no regrets. You will have your fates rewritten, your destiny becoming to die a glorious death on the field of battle among peers and equals. It's a harsh, unforgiving world we live in. What more can a fighter ask for?"

Peppered in with the more innocuous images flashing through were now pictures of violence, death, and general chaos. Still-frames from past tournaments, the savage consequences of failing to heed Grimm environmental modifiers or aftereffects of a particularly destructive semblance on a particularly depleted aura.

"With that in mind, the preliminary round will be as follows. Sixty-four of you are currently listening to this broadcast across all thirty of this facility's levels, but only sixteen fighters will be proceeding to the elimination tournament proper. At sunset tomorrow, each and every one of the androids you see will be set to recognize all living entities as hostile, while a particularly swift and vicious strain of Grimm will be released into the facility from the arrivals center. Additionally, an extremely old, extremely hostile specimen of a different nature is currently imprisoned on the bunker's lowest level, marked 'Containment'. It's so aggressive it attacks its own kind; quite unlike the usual snarling beasts you're all no doubt used to cutting down in the dozens. Regardless of any one warrior's prowess, I can assure you anything it comes into contact with will almost certainly meet their end. This entity will be unleashed upon the bunker as well."

The depictions of violence and carnage were starting to supplant the more innocent ones as the helmet's dominant visual, the occasional red eyes and fangs eerily placed against the material's darkened shine.

"The first condition for successfully achieving victory is simple: Survive the night. The second is slightly more complex. Each of you will be provided with a keycard; Come sunrise, the facility's top floor will unseal, and there will you find your exit. The first sixteen competitors to reach this floor bearing three keycards will be able to unlock the door and escape. These sixteen will form the actual tournament's bracket; the order in which they reach the door will determine the seeding. Keycards can be attained by taking them from other competitors, or their remains. Clear enough? Oh, and one final caveat. For my own amusement, more than anything. A stroke of genius I credit to my old academy's bizarre initiation rites."

It occurred to those listening that this was the first time the speaker's tone had experienced any kind of an uptick or shift in emotion at all; seemingly a fond lilt of nostalgic whimsy.

"All competitors will be required to isolate themselves prior to the event's initialization. Upon commencement, the first fighter you make eye contact with will become your partner for its duration. Your keycards will become inert to one another, and separation for a period greater than a half hour will result in both your immediate disqualifications. Now, you have less than 24 hours. I suggest you use them to sleep, enjoy yourselves and prepare. Your destinies have been rewritten. The only certainty is this: you're all one sleep from a bloodbath."

The holograms all flickered off, and the competitors were left to digest the message as the bunker's every droid went back to their normal routine like it had been no more than a particularly ominous sneeze.​

Yang had frozen mid-step as the announcement went down, her eyes locked onto the nearest screen with a quiet frown. Ironwood had been clear from the start that this was a dangerous job, and even after hearing all this, she was pretty confident she wasn't going down in the coming days.

But damn was this gonna get bloody real quick. Sure, everyone had ostensibly signed up for this, but it was more than a little absurd just how many bodies were gonna be piled up over a freaking video file. An important one? sure, that's why they were all here in the first place. But she couldn't help but wonder if everyone here knew exactly what they were getting into when they signed up for this. It kinda disgusted her to be honest. She couldn't imagine that the lady who's private life they were all gunning for the rights to was probably disgusted by it too.

She huffed and started to shake it off, realized that at some point in that melancholy turn of thoughts her eyes were starting to shift on her and stopped trying to shake it off to instead stew on how stupid this all was, and gave winter the hand sign for 'call me' with a wink as she walked by her ramblings about some island tart who definitely couldnt' be Yang : |

 

[MyrtenRose]

Cinder was so enraptured by the buffet of sweets before her, that it wasn't until she was well into her fifth helping of dessert that she finally noticed the room she was in had a guest currently poking her head through the doorway, looking over at the young fall maiden with widened eyes. Cinder gulped in nervousness, suddenly feeling a heckuva lot more self-conscious now that she was aware someone was witnessing all this. Her own wide-eyed expression reflected that, as did her embarrassed blush.

With an almost painfully awkward slowness, she slid the fork back out of her mouth and stammered out an explanation.

Ruby held her hands up in an apologetic gesture, her mouth opening a second later to begin talking. "No no, you don't have to justify anything. You should see me with cookies." The silver eyed huntress flashed a quick, thin smile to try and make Cinder more relaxed again. "Besides, I was kinda the one intruding here soooooooooooo...sorry about that!"

"...Don't worry about it." Cinder shot back with a shrug, immediately scooping up another bite. "Not that big a deal. Want a plate?" She offered, her free hand grabbing one and extending it out towards Ruby. The other girl didn't immediately reply as she looked at the plate. It...really wasn't fair of her, moreso after all this time, but Ruby couldn't help but look at that food with suspicion. It was definitely all her experiences with the Cinder that she knew that colored her expectations, but for a short while there, thoughts that the offered food had been poisoned dominated her mind. It was only after she forced those thoughts away that Ruby nodded. "Sure!" She replied excitedly enough, sliding into the chair opposite and betraying exactly none of those thoughts. It wasn't fair to this other Cinder.

The Cinder who those silver eyes stayed locked onto the whole time, even while scarfing down her own share of cake.

"Ummmmmmmmmmmmm." Cinder eventually remarked, when that staring felt too much. "...Is there something else I can help you with, or...?"

"Sorry! Sorry, I just..." Ruby bit her lip, eyes briefly shooting off to the side as she considered. She supposed it was well past time that they actually talked some, that she tried to reach out and understand this wildly different Cinder better. "What's your story?"

"My story?"

"Yeah, you know, like...how you ended up at Beacon? Here? That sort of stuff?"

"Oh." Cinder looked uncertain for a few seconds. Uncertain about whether or not to actually share with Ruby, who still just felt like an otherworldly stranger...but she reached a decision soon enough. She didn't see the harm in trying to be more friendly! "Well I grew up in a small village in Mistral. Mom and D--" Cinder caught herself, blinking several times before she continued. It was difficult, calling them that. "Ciara and Bruno Fall, they were--"

"...Wait. Bruno?" This time the pause came from Ruby Rose's interruption.

"...Yes?"

"..."

"...I don't get it."

"Sorry again, it's just...the Cinder I've fought against, it just...seems funny to think about somebody like that coming from a guy named Bruno is all."

"...Riiiiiiight, well, I can tell you this. He's not a funny man. Can I go on?"

"YES PLEASE DO THANK YOU."

"Okay. So like I was saying, the two of them...they were my parents. Pretty important to the village, too, which...was probably why they got away with...as much as they did." Saying that much brought her mood down some, though she immediately tried to counter that by taking some more bites from the comfort food. "Let's just say I didn't have a fun childhood. Anyways, Beacon...I was sort of a special case. I only got taken there because I got the power. Because I was the Fall Maiden. I got the power about a month before I turned 15, and...it was shortly after my birthday that they found me. After I..." Brief flashes of a home burning to ash and dust filled her head before she managed to clear it away. "...lost my temper." She put it as vaguely as she could.

"She offered help, and a new home, and I couldn't accept any faster than I did. They told me that the previous maiden, Amber, had been slain. That the power had gone to me at random because her final thoughts had been of a dude. But...I believed...no, still do believe that it wasn't random. Someone with the last name of Fall, becoming the Fall Maiden? It just seems like destiny to me. But anyways, that's how a 15 year old girl with no formal training, only years of hunting experience and battling the occasional minor grimm, ended up at one of the premier combat schools in the world. That's how I ended up on Team WTCH, and I found friends. People who actually cared, that..." Cinder sighed, her mind thinking about Tyrian, who she didn't have a single clue about where he was now...and Mercury, Emerald and Neo, who were in that same boat with the scorpion faunus. She had zero idea where they were, what they were doing...she could only hope they were doing okay. And, inevitably, thoughts of Roman surfaced. She sighed a second time before shaking her head. "You know pretty much all the rest. How we got to here and now."

"..." It still was strange, all this, but listening to that? It was hard to not empathize with Cinder. She could see some of Weiss in this younger maiden, and some of herself, and some of Blake and...it was honestly so so weird, even now. "Thanks for sharing." Ruby replied, 110% sincere in that.

"Yeah. So...what about you?" Cinder questioned, leveling her fork to point Ruby's way. "What's your story?"

Ruby blinked, temporarily taken aback by that before she answered. "It's...a long one."

"I have time."

"Heh." Ruby smiled. "Fair enough." The silver eyed warrior took another bite of cake before she began to speak further, to share the tale of her life up to this point. Or, at least, the important SparkNotes bits. Cinder sat up a little straighter as she listened.​

 

[MidwayLives]

While Char and Blanche made their move on Mercury and friends, Tyrian and Blanco had been moving throughout Mistral in an attempt to try and track down any information on the murderer that'd assaulted the faunus and kidnapped his friend. Needless to say progress wasn't going as fast as Tyrian would have liked. More so with the stares he got thrown his way as they walked. He couldn't blame them for looking at him like that. Given all the fights he'd been in, it was a wonder he wasn't covered in scars from head to toe. His tail remained wrapped around his waist as he walked along with the gangster who'd saved him from dying a lonely death in the warehouse where he'd fought Jack.

What was Trifa going through? What had that monster done to her? The very thought of a creep like that putting his hands on her...It made his blood boil. He hadn't been there for Ichabod when he needed it and the old man paid the ultimate price. He didn't care how many times he was stabbed or he was punched. He'd keep getting up no matter what. Now that Jack had made it clear he knew of Mercury and the others as well, there was even more at stake. Those three weren't defenseless by any means but that semblance was something else. It'd been by sheer luck that Tyrian had barely managed to cut off a piece of his mask.

"Tyrian."

His thoughts disturbed, Tyrian nearly stumbled into Blanco's back as the gangster called out his name. "Oh! Uh, w-what's up, Blanco?"

"You've been quiet since my team rescued you from that warehouse. Are you sure that you're good to keep going? From the state I found you in, the man we're after doesn't seem like one to take lightly." Tyrian let a low growl out at Blanco's statement. Sure, there was still a part of him that regretted being dragged out of that mess after failing as badly as he did. But he didn't accept Blanco's help so he could be patronized to. "I'll be fine. I...I just got a lot on my mind."

Blanco paused before nodding his head, seemingly content with that answer.

"I understand. If you need anything, don't hesitate to bring it up. I've heard of your escapades since you got here, Tyrian. But far be it from me to judge you for them. The life of a gangster has it's own ups and downs. Not unlike that of a huntsman.." Blanco looked over his shoulder with a soft smile. "Sometimes obstacles come up that seem insurmountable, you wrack your brain thinking how you'll overcome them. After a while the doubt of what to do starts to eat away at you but...You can't let that happen." Motioning for Tyrian to stop, Blanco made his way over to a fruit vendor's stand. Given all the trouble that'd been plaguing Mistral as of late, business had been terribly slow but due to Blanco and the rest of the Community Team's efforts, any attempts at petty theft or intimidation had been halted and the instigators being met with the Ashes's take on what constituted as justice. The shopkeep was an older woman with her white hair done up in a bun. Adjusting her glasses, she smiled as she Blanco approach.

"Why if it isn't my knight in shining armor!~ How are you doing today, Blanco?"

"Hahaha, please madam, I'm no knight. To call me such would be a disservice to those who put their actual lives on the line for their kingdom. My team and I only do what we can to make your lives easier. We're no knights or heroes. But, madam there's someone I'd like you to meet." Gesturing for Tyrian to come closer, the faunus reluctantly agreed. Noticing the multitude of scars and wounds lining Tyrian's chest and even his forehead, the shopkeep gasped in horror. "Oh my! Are you okay young man??" Tyrian held up his hand and waved off the lady's concerns. "It's nothing, miss. Really, I'm fine."

Would have been doing better knowing bastards like the ones in the Shadow Fang were six feet under.

"Madam, this boy is Tyrian Callows and I've asked for his help in a matter I'm currently looking into. I'd humbly ask that he be shown the same respect that you or anyone else may show myself or any of my other comrades." The woman's face lit up at the revelation. "Why if you're a friend of Blanco's then you're a friend of mine, Mister Callows! I don't know what case you've taken on Blanco but your team is always welcome to my fruit, free of charge!" Blanco smiled and after giving Tyrian an encouraging pat on the back, he gestured to the fruit out on display. "Go on, Tyrian."

"..."

Tyrian quietly reached out and grabbed an apple. "Thank you...um....Miss."

"Oh think nothing of it! I hope the two of you have a wonderful day!"

Goodbyes were given and the duo continued on their way.

"Do you know why we stopped back there, Tyrian?"

*crunch*

"....Because we were hungry...?"

Blanco stifled a small chuckle.

"As good an answer as any I suppose but no. The woman running that stand used to be married. Their business had started as something of a venture born out of love; something they'd always have between the two of them. Things went smoothly for years and I'd known both of them since I was a boy. Things were peaceful and as a young naive boy I'd hoped they would have stayed that way. Alas, life is hardly anything but a cruel mistress at the best of times. Before I'd joined the Ashes, members of the gang's Narcotics Team attempted to peddle their wares on that same street where the stand still sits to this very day. The husband attempted to plead with them. It'd send the wrong message to the impressionable youth to see such depravity close to humble businesses. Their response was to silence him and so they did. His body was found days later and the community mourned but no one grieved harder than his beloved."

Tyrian stopped mid-bite of his apple.

"Paying for the funeral was expensive in it of itself. It would have bankrupted anyone else but the woman had savings just incase something happened to either of them. She put him to rest and continued the business they'd started together in his memory. I swore that as long as I drew breath no more tragedy would befall this woman no matter what. When I joined the Ashes and eventually became head of the Community Team, I made it a mandate that every small business like that woman's was to be protected and anyone who targeted them would pay dearly." Turning and placing both hands on Tyrian's shoulders, Blanco's eyes met that of the faunus.

"What I'm trying to say is that life will often place obstacles in your way but there's always a way to overcome them. No matter how powerful this putrid thief of life may be, we'll put an end to him. I promise you that, Tyrian."

Tyrian took another bite of his apple and nodded his head.

"Good. Then let us keep going."

"Actually, there's somewhere I wanted to stop first..."

"Oh?"

"...It's a bar but I know the people running it..."

~~~



While Blanco and Tyrian continued their search, Aurora was undergoing his own mission given to him by The Boss.

Now that Blanco had gotten himself involved in things, the conclusion was simple.

He needed to die.

That was the long and short of it.

If he, a member of the Ashes were to find out that Jack was connected to The Boss, it'd screw everything up!

But for better or worse, Blanco had established himself well in Mistral's community. If he were to suddenly go missing or wind up dead it'd cause all kinds of trouble. If he had to be taken out, Aurora would have preferred if it was done a touch more discretely but whether it was shipping body parts to Hitman Team or keeping prisoners hidden within his mansion, the Boss was a man with a unique approach to things. Blanco would die and his corpse would be strung up for all to see. A message that those who stuck their nose where it didn't belong. To do it personally was beneath him. Better to dole out such a task to those dogs who made up the Hitman Team. When a dog misbehaves you rub it's nose in the mess it made for itself. You did this until the dog realized who was in charge. They moved when Aurora gave them the word from uptop and seemed cowed enough but this would be the decision that made it clear or not on whether or not they were truly 100% loyal to him.

Having left their apartment to grab some drinks, Violet and Vanille walked down the street with some civilians giving the two ladies a wide berth. When dealing with anyone other than folks from Blanco's Community Team, most people tended to either do whatever business they had with the Ashes and scrammed. Others wanted nothing to do with them if they could avoid it. Least of all Violet who'd established herself as something of a terror around town due to constantly starting fights and leaving places absolutely wrecked by the time she was done. Tonight was just the two girls deciding they needed to get out of the apartment for a bit. Scroll communications were still down and were presumably going to be for some time moving forward but they'd kept Abyss in the loop on where they'd be headed.

"Haven't even heard anything from those two idiots. You think they went and got themselves killed? That little puss Char? I could totally see it. Blanche...?" The guy was a leach but he at least knew his way around a battlefield when it counted. "...Eh, they'd have to be some tough kids." The faunus walking beside her merely shrugged her shoulders seeming ambivalent to the matter altogether.

"See that kind of 'who gives a shit' attitude is exactly why I love coming out with you out of everyone else on the team. You don't let stuff get to you. Now, how's about we go find some shitty bar to go fuck up??" But it seemed Violet's words had fallen on deaf ears as Vanille had turned away from her fellow assassin and was gazing at the crowd. "Eh? Someone out there catch your eye? Is it either of the two chucklefucks?"

Vanille shook her head.

She saw exactly who she'd sniffed out.

...But for one reason or another she couldn't say who.

Making his way to the Hitman Team's apartment that the Boss had rented out for them to use, Aurora stuffed his map away in his back pocket. "Geez, I really need to start thinking of better disguises. I've used this one at least two times in the past few days..." He muttered aloud to himself before tromping up the steps until he reached the room. Opening the door and shutting it behind him, Aurora reached for his cap and hung it on the hook on the back of the door. After knocking the coats that were already hanging on there to the floor. "Oops! Sorry!"

"...Abyss? Are you here?"

He'd told the team he didn't want to micro manage but had they all left as a unit? Seemed like a bit much given what he'd asked them to deal with but maybe they believed Black's son to be just that good. If he killed them then that boded well too! Kill two birds with one stone as the saying goes. Before he could settle in on the couch, he heard Abyss's voice coming from behind him. "Any particular reason why you've come back so soon, Aurora? Besides making yourself at home?" The teenager jumped up from where he'd been sitting and frantically waved his hands. Abyss had been in one of the other rooms and he'd been too stupid to check! "Aaaah! Hahaha...Oh, well, hey Abyss!"

Abyss was a beautiful woman. Of that there was no doubt. Little too old for someone as young as Aurora though.

"Hey. Char and Blanche went to scope out and get a feel for the kid's abilities. Vanile and Violet went out for a couple of drinks. So, again, what's your business here?" She asked with one gloved hand positioned close to her right thigh, any holster being obscured by the length of her jacket. Flustered by Abyss's sudden appearance, Aurora cleared his throat and tried to gather his bearings. "W-Well, The Boss sent me with another mission for the team but he only wanted you to hear it."

"...Just me? My team was important enough to be made aware that Black had a son but this is apparently too much?" Abyss waved her hand. "I don't discuss business without my comrades getting their two cents in. You're more than welcome to stay til they come back." She offered but Aurora shook his head. "Sorry Abyss but I can't do that. The Boss made it crystal clear that only you are supposed to be aware of this task. Can't you see the amount of trust he's putting in you because of that? Do you really wanna disobey him by refusing to hear what he wants of you?"

"...Do you want a repeat of what happened all those months ago?"

An eerie silence poured over the room.

Neither side said anything or moved.

After what felt like an eternity of silence, Abyss broke it.

"....It's just you that came here, correct? Nobody else?"

"Huh? That's right, you know I report directly to the Boss...."

"What is you need to tell me?"

Aurora cleared his throat once more and spoke. Putting it as simply as he could.

Abyss blinked.

"....You want me to kill Blanco? Do you realize what kind of trouble that'd bring down on my men and me? The Community Team wouldn't stop until we were nothing but corpses in the wind. The civilians wouldn't stand for it either. If this goes wrong you're turning my team into public enemy number one." Abyss stated her tone as communicable and professional as always. Even from where he stood inches away from her however, Aurora could tell that the atmosphere in the mood had changed. The realization that killing Blanco would turn the Hitman Team into even more of a pariah than they were currently didn't sit well with her at all. Not when she'd begged so hard to keep the Boss from having the Elite Guard kill them all outright for their first and only transgression against the gang after years of loyal service.

"It'll just be on you to make sure it doesn't go wrong that's all." Aurora said as if the solution were plain as day. Kill Blanco in such a way that you'd attract the least amount of suspicion! Wasn't that what their team was good at? Truth be told the whole idea didn't sit well with Blanco either but he couldn't second-guess the Boss infront of a former traitor. He'd never forgive his poor sweet Aurora! As for Abyss herself, there were a lot of things she could tolerate. The antics between Violet and Blanche/Char. She'd tell them to stop and they would. She'd even accepted full responsibility for what had happened after the Boss's guard caught wind of the PIs they'd hired to snoop around for information on the Boss. It was the most demeaning thing she'd ever had to do in her entire life. Groveling and begging were things meant for someone weaker than her, a hapless beggar pleading for coin on the street. She wasn't that and now she was being asked to keep secrets from her team whom she'd just sent out to test the son of Marcus Black? A secret which could lead to the death of everyone involved including her.

Decision making wasn't easy when you were in charge. Somethings just came naturally to some people though.

*Thwack*

Aurora was knocked to the floor after a straight cross to the face. Before he could stand up, Abyss was on him. Slamming the sole of her boot against his chest, she pinned him so he was sitting up against the wall with blood running down from his nostrils. "A-AAAH!! W-Why are you doing this, Abyss?! What the hell's gotten into you?! You know how important I am to the-" Another blow to the head only intensified Aurora's cries. This was the second time where he'd been punched and now kicked in the face! Opening up her jacket, Abyss drew one of her weapons from it and aimed it downwards.

"I know you're important. That's exactly why I'm doing this. I won't lie to you, Aurora. The Boss has me and my entire team frightened like chickens aware of the wolf stalking outside our home. Eventually the wolf will grow tired of waiting and pounce. The first time he did, we got body parts shipped to us through the mail piece by piece. Now you come to me baring his message that'll doom my entire team and he's expecting me to keep it a secret? From the men and women who've fought alongside me for years? No matter which way the wind blows this'll destroy our reputation even more than it's been eviscerated already. None of the other teams will ever trust us again and the Community Team will be baying for blood. We'll be forced on the run and I doubt the Boss will be willing to see both teams destroy themselves. He'll have to picka side and given recent experiences..." She pressed her foot down harder. "You'll forgive me if I'm skeptical that he has the Hitman Team's best interests at heart."

The fact that his nose was bleeding and he was staring down the barrel of a gun combined to absolutely terrify Aurora. He didn't know what to do! Abyss didn't possess a semblance but she'd been able to become the leader of the Hitman Team despite that! She wasn't anyone to be underestimated! Oh where was the Boss when he needed him the most?! Sniffling and sobbing wasn't going to get him out of here. "Stop the crying, kid. It's unbecoming of a gangster." Pressing the barrel right against Aurora's forehead, Abyss continued. "If killing Blanco is really what the Boss wants then we'll do it but you go back and tell him this. I want our payraise increased, not a dime off. I also want protection for everyone under my employ."

Her words may as well have been gibberish as Aurora clutched at the side of his head. Why of all times did he have to get such a monstrous headache-

"Aurora!"

That voice...It couldn't have been...Glancing away from Abyss, Aurora looked over to one of the jackets that'd fallen to the ground. Who would have thought someone hid a scroll away in there, let alone a working one?! He could hear the Boss's voice!

"It seems the dog still has some bite. Just as I expected. Do not shed any tears for them, my sweet Aurora. The woman standing before you is no threat to either of us. Did you forget that you share my semblance? Use it..." The voice went silent and Aurora's eyes widened and his face scrunched up.

"Back the fuck up you stupid BITCH! You're pushing your luck, you know that?! The only thing you're getting is a ass beating!!" Aurora screeched as a gust of wind threw Abyss back and over the couch. Rising to his feet and wiping away at the blood dripping from his nose, the teen swung his left hand to the side and a trail of wind pushed the couch over revealing Abyss standing behind it, her stoic expression broken into one of utter shock. All the time they'd been dealing with Aurora none of them had expected to have had a semblance. The kid whined at the smallest inconvenience and begged for mercy when others like Violet or Char teased him. Yet with just a wave of his hand, he'd hurled the Hitman Team's leader across the room and straight into the wall.

Standing over her, Aurora swung his hand upwards in a scooping motion and Abyss was smashed against the wall once more. The force of the wind was so strong that she couldn't even leverage or point her gun. Wrapping a hand around Abyss's neck, Aurora reared back with his other hand to punch her just as she'd done to him. "YOU GET IT NOW?! YOU'RE!NOT! GONNA!PUSH ME! AROUND!!!" Eventually after the sixth or so punch, Abyss's gun fell from her hand and blood was running down her nose just as his was.



The semblance...the power of it...the raw anger.

Everything had taken her by surprise. She'd thought she could have simply intimidated the boy. Seemed easy enough given past experiences and interactions with him. But the one keeping her pinned against the wall may have looked like Aurora but something felt off. The way he spoke, the way he carried himself, even the look in his eyes. They weren't the bright youthful gaze of a young boy. They looked more fitting for one who'd seen years of bloodshed and misery. The grip around her throat grew tighter as Aurora spoke.

"Do you....get it now...? You do what you're told. Just like everyone else...."

*THUD*

"say it."

*THUD*

"say it!"

"...I understand."

The wind finally died down and Aurora let Abyss slide down onto her rear as he moved to grab his hat. Watching him move, Abyss noticed yet another shift in demeanor as the cap sat atop the boy's head. It was as if a switch had been flicked. He'd gone back to being the frightened right hand to the Boss. Watching him move until he left her alone in the apartment, she sat there against the wall dumbfounded.

...What was going to happen?

Meanwhile, when Aurora had gotten outside...

"A...aaaahhh! my nose won't stop bleeding!!!"​

 

[MidwayLives]

*thonk*

"Ow!"

Where was she pulling all these bottles from?!

"What?? I'm the one apologizing and you throw a bottle at me?! You're a real piece of work, toots!"

As he was tackled to the ground, he let Vernal punch away at him. Without so much as a care in the world if his expression was anything to go by.

"Hehehe...Hahahah!"

Blow after blow came down upon him and Vernal could see herself getting older and older with each punch. Raising his arms up to block the next incoming barrage of punches, Blanche's aura shimmered around him and he panted due to the strain it was putting on him to keep Beyond the Years going and get pummeled at the same time. "Some people just don't learn, huh? I told you..." The mist flowed around Vernal's person causing her aura to shimmer as it continued aging her just as he'd said it would. "Beyond the Years works even better in close quarters!" Placing both hands on Vernal's hips, he sought to push her off him to the side. Throughout all that punching, his latest cigarette had been left okay.

"Gotta admit...You almost did a number on me there...Was about to have to choose between keeping the mist going or dealing with you.."

He moved to give Vernal a sharp kick to the side of the head. "I just can't wrap my head around why you're sticking your nose in other people's business. The hell you get out of bashing bottles over my head?" Truth be told in between getting punched over and over like that and the range he was forcing his semblance to spread to, he was hoping to keep Vernal distracted enough until she got old enough(early-mid 40s)for him to get rid of without too much trouble. So the talking continued.

'Startin to run low out here. The hell's taking you so long, Char? Haven't even heard anybody screaming yet...'

~~~​

Neo's eyes widened as the man informed her he was literally an assassin, and she clutched her parasol close to her chest with both hands as she quickly shook her head and pointed at her mouth. She took a shaky step backwards as she did so, almost immediately bumping into the wall behind her in the process

Oh.

Char took a step forward but didn't raise Riot Breaker to strike at Neo or anything like that. Instead he reached out and merely patted Neo atop the head.

"Can't talk, huh? S'okay. Got someone in my crew who can't talk. Well, I say can't...She just chooses not to." He admitted with a shrug referring to Vanille. "Sorry if my storming in woke you up or anything, kid. Not a whole lot of avenues to be stealthy for a guy who looks like I do." Stepping back from Neo once the headpat had been accomplished, he turned his head down the hall. "Not here to kill anybody so don't get yourself all worked up, alright? Calm down a bit."

He turned away from Neo.

"If you don't know where I can find Black's kid then you better go on and get. If it turns out you were lying to me..." Riot Breaker's humming seemed to grow more intense. "...Well, you won't like it. Anyway, see ya around kid. Try not to die or whatever it's a shitshow these days." With that he kept on walking.

'Mh. Maybe I should have decked her. Pink hair reminded me too much of Aurora.'
​

 

[Indolent]

ᴮᴱᵂᴬᴿᴱ ᵀᴴᴱ ˢᴵᴺ ᴼᶠ ᴾᴿᴵᴰᴱ
ᴸᴱˢᵀ ʸᴼᵁᴿ ᴮᴼᴺᴱˢ ᴿᴼᵁᴺᴰ ᴼᵁᵀ ᵀᴴᴱ Qᵁᴬᴿᵀᴱᵀ

Gretchen's own words burned starker than the flames her own contact with the spirit yielded, but some faint spiderweb cracks streaked away from the point their hands touched that had it jerk its head in their direction curiously before she yanked her inside as well.

The atmosphere of it all was palpably creepy and that said something when it came to the implacable Rainart, visibly becoming unnerved inch by inch. Tiny dingy room, commanded to draw blood and say these strange words. Weirder yet were the fortune told to her and it was what drew an uncharacteristic gloom over the teenager in an instant, almost a steadfast presence that permeated her being that it was almost enough to suppress any outward reaction to the demonic visage that snatched her into the mirror. Almost enough. She did manage a scream after all.

The stark, seemingly subterranean architecture of the facility she ended up within for all its simplicity did far more than enough to assuage her underlying fears of having been dragged to some approximation of Hell on Remnant. Still, though, when the adrenaline had subsided, the words of the fortune were emblazoned across her mind's eye.

She instantly understood the meaning of it, realizing it was something of a warning, a direct indictment of her reaction to the situation following Beacon. After all, she had been one of two survivors of her team. Or rather, the only one now. Seemed like the other had passed without her ever knowing, eliciting a whole another subset of emotions commingling in a flux with the prior. It was easy to stifle the pangs of loss when she'd already grieved essentially the death of her team but it served only to soften the blow. He had been a friend after all and it stung not having been there for them beforehand.

More pertinently, the fortune's contents... the accusation of her pride or falling victim to the sin of pride. It was a stifling misery she had been in in the beginning, grieving and almost given to despair. It was an ordeal, a low, she promised to never return to. Ever again, if possible. And so Gretchen keenly took to the inverse of it all, inundating herself with all the exuberance and enthusiasm she could muster. It was partially what prompted her older brother's commentary of never seeing her like that. A lot of it surely stemmed from an attempt to avert relapsing, as most people would strive to by all rights. Or was it perhaps she clung to a facet of herself that seemed the most positive and dramatized it, exacerbating its quality comparatively, sacrificing others. After all, she had been consistently given towards bravado ever since she'd found Hazel again at Haven.

It was before long that she realized she was overthinking it and was content to assign the summary assumptions that there was probably truth to it and it served best as a warning than a prophesied outcome. Which was when she realized she wasn't alone, noting the many participants for the tournament before her eyes flickered to the counter visible to all newcomers. The association connected in an instant in her mind's eye and she was shocked that there was this many people, most of whom were likely the unsavory sorts mom and dad told you to keep an eye out for and to avoid.

Not that it changed her outward demeanor all that much, beyond being somewhat more guarded as she was effectively isolated even in the presence of friends; Ace of Spades had been a more accommodating atmosphere comparatively.

Then it dawned on her.

"... I LEFT BROSEL BACK AT THE BAR, HE'S STILL THERE."

Never mind, her composure shattered completely as she lost herself to a brief bout of hysteria born out of concern for the stoat's well-being.

ᶜᴼᵁᴺᵀ ʸᴼᵁᴿ ᴬᴸᴸᴵᴱˢ
ᴼᴿ ᵀᴴᴱ ᵀᵂᴼ ᴮᴱᶜᴼᴹᴱ ᴼᴺᴱ

They weren't quite the largest of the bunch, but Hazel's candles burned a stark and impressive hue in their own right in the moments before she yanked him through no less effortlessly than she had any of the women.

Hazel took all of this far better than his sister, an eternal beacon of stoicism that ultimately did not flinch even in the face of that mirror-born demon that gazed upon him and snatched him within into its bowels seemingly.

Well, no. That was a complete lie.

Spoiler

He screamed like a banshee at the sight of it.

But everything else went swimmingly all things considered, an inconsolable grunt being all that Hazel said of the experience as he found himself side by side his panicking sibling. A swift placement of the hand on the shoulder was enough to wrest her from her worries, bidding her to return to some semblance of composure and when the two glanced at one another, both understood that they'd undergone bizarre circumstances.

It was especially poignant for the elder brother considering the implications of the fortune delivered unto him. Those words could only have meant one thing. Two allies... whom they were, that much was self evident in his mind. Cinder and Gretchen. The two who, for a brief time, had been together before finding the others once more. From the time Team WTCH had been disbanded all the way to collecting Cinder from Argus and to Atlas...

The fact of the matter is, Hazel Rainart was deeply concerned. Two becoming one insinuated the obvious and the one with the greatest risk was the person gazing back at him. The little sibling he'd always cared for his entire life and fretted over to no end, as much as he barely ever revealed to those around him. His demeanor was rigid then, something that was not atypical of him yet there was an inkling to it that it felt... different.

Gretchen didn't ask, assuming the worst, though the concern was clear in her face.

Suddenly, the room's ambient music and all the whirring of automatons as they moved around came to a sudden, distinct halt. It was difficult for even the most dulled of senses to miss an entire bar's background noise fading, and the last of the conversations died out only a few seconds later as everyone in the room waited to see where this was going. Those who had already taken the plunge into the semblance pits once before and lived looked more assured than the others, less apprehensive about what was about to happen, and when a single, mechanical chime sounded some of them even bared their teeth in grins of enthusiastic malice. Some of them had been waiting days, even weeks.

That sound meant it was almost time.

From every droid both in the bar and across the entire span of the bunker the flickering image of a hologram was projected, conjuring an intangible avatar of a lone figure in a chair as the newcomers were given a look at their mysterious benefactor for the first time. Jabberwocky was neither large nor imposing, their legs curled beneath them like they were about to watch Netflix and a baggy tracksuit disguising their gender, but the most unsettling thing about them was easily the helmet they wore.

The entire thing was a screen, almost disorienting to look at as various images and messages flashed, blinked and rolled across the sleek black surface at intervals that were never more than a second. Many were innocuous enough; harmless song lyrics like MIRROR MIRROR, commonly spoken proverbs, even the odd meme or two that went well over most of the room's head. The most commonly recurring logo was that same grinning cat face, the right eye glowing as its eyes swiveled from left to right slyly.

"Hello, hello. The necessary participant quotient has now been reached. The eleventh Semblance Pit will commence at sunset tomorrow. I thank you all for your commitment, and applaud the strength and potency of each and every spirit gathered here. Congratulations; if you're listening, it means your aura and semblance were gauged, catalogued, and deemed acceptable for entry. These tools are, of course, directly reflective of the soul that manifests them. Be proud. Finding your way here means you were destined to achieve great things."

That was around the images flickering across the helmet started to take a turn for the disturbing.

"But make no mistake. Nothing is predetermined, not all souls are created equal, and many of you will not live to see your noble purposes achieved. For those unfortunates, let there be no regrets. You will have your fates rewritten, your destiny becoming to die a glorious death on the field of battle among peers and equals. It's a harsh, unforgiving world we live in. What more can a fighter ask for?"

Peppered in with the more innocuous images flashing through were now pictures of violence, death, and general chaos. Still-frames from past tournaments, the savage consequences of failing to heed Grimm environmental modifiers or aftereffects of a particularly destructive semblance on a particularly depleted aura.

"With that in mind, the preliminary round will be as follows. Sixty-four of you are currently listening to this broadcast across all thirty of this facility's levels, but only sixteen fighters will be proceeding to the elimination tournament proper. At sunset tomorrow, each and every one of the androids you see will be set to recognize all living entities as hostile, while a particularly swift and vicious strain of Grimm will be released into the facility from the arrivals center. Additionally, an extremely old, extremely hostile specimen of a different nature is currently imprisoned on the bunker's lowest level, marked 'Containment'. It's so aggressive it attacks its own kind; quite unlike the usual snarling beasts you're all no doubt used to cutting down in the dozens. Regardless of any one warrior's prowess, I can assure you anything it comes into contact with will almost certainly meet their end. This entity will be unleashed upon the bunker as well."

The depictions of violence and carnage were starting to supplant the more innocent ones as the helmet's dominant visual, the occasional red eyes and fangs eerily placed against the material's darkened shine.

"The first condition for successfully achieving victory is simple: Survive the night. The second is slightly more complex. Each of you will be provided with a keycard; Come sunrise, the facility's top floor will unseal, and there will you find your exit. The first sixteen competitors to reach this floor bearing three keycards will be able to unlock the door and escape. These sixteen will form the actual tournament's bracket; the order in which they reach the door will determine the seeding. Keycards can be attained by taking them from other competitors, or their remains. Clear enough? Oh, and one final caveat. For my own amusement, more than anything. A stroke of genius I credit to my old academy's bizarre initiation rites."

It occurred to those listening that this was the first time the speaker's tone had experienced any kind of an uptick or shift in emotion at all; seemingly a fond lilt of nostalgic whimsy.

"All competitors will be required to isolate themselves prior to the event's initialization. Upon commencement, the first fighter you make eye contact with will become your partner for its duration. Your keycards will become inert to one another, and separation for a period greater than a half hour will result in both your immediate disqualifications. Now, you have less than 24 hours. I suggest you use them to sleep, enjoy yourselves and prepare. Your destinies have been rewritten. The only certainty is this: you're all one sleep from a bloodbath."

The holograms all flickered off, and the competitors were left to digest the message as the bunker's every droid went back to their normal routine like it had been no more than a particularly ominous sneeze.​

"Well, that's not at all concerning~!" Came the sardonic chip from Gretchen, her posture very much defying the nature of her words as she drew herself into a tight cross of the arms that was inherently defensive, errant eyes skeptically studying the weirdos all around her. That guy that was more or less a clown with a serial killer smile or something and the brigade of wetwork slash bdsm aficionados, and that one strange unit waddling about burdened by streamlined armor evoking the visage of a tank with way, way too many duffel bags. "So..."

"So."

"Try to find each other?"

"Yes."

"Sounds like a plan!"

"Or Nora. Or the others."

"Yeah!!!-- wait is that the fricking Red Masqu--"

"And the Dragon."

"Jeez, why I'd let you talk me into this, huh?"

"Gretchen..."

"I know, I'm just kidding. Look... let's try and do as they say, relax and all. Odds are... we aren't getting partnered for this one, big brother. And just as well, they'd need the handicap."

The loitering conversation was as awkward for those around as it was for the siblings, Hazel hanging in an askance slant as he internally struggled with the difficulty of leaving her be. After all... it was something that never came easily. It was with a reluctant nod of the head that he assented to the idea, being the first to disengage and wander through out into the open to survey the facilities they had to offer.

Which left Gretchen alone, a stark realization which crept on her without fail, her lower lip chewed in thought before she arrived at a decision.

"Here we go..."

She followed suit, though purposefully elected for the other avenues.

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

~~~

Oh.

Char took a step forward but didn't raise Riot Breaker to strike at Neo or anything like that. Instead he reached out and merely patted Neo atop the head.

"Can't talk, huh? S'okay. Got someone in my crew who can't talk. Well, I say can't...She just chooses not to." He admitted with a shrug referring to Vanille. "Sorry if my storming in woke you up or anything, kid. Not a whole lot of avenues to be stealthy for a guy who looks like I do." Stepping back from Neo once the headpat had been accomplished, he turned his head down the hall. "Not here to kill anybody so don't get yourself all worked up, alright? Calm down a bit."

He turned away from Neo.

"If you don't know where I can find Black's kid then you better go on and get. If it turns out you were lying to me..." Riot Breaker's humming seemed to grow more intense. "...Well, you won't like it. Anyway, see ya around kid. Try not to die or whatever it's a shitshow these days." With that he kept on walking.

'Mh. Maybe I should have decked her. Pink hair reminded me too much of Aurora.'
​

Neo pressed even farther against the wall as Char stepped closer and squeezed her eyes shut and turned away from what she seemed to think was an inevitable oncoming hit, her whole body shivering as... nothing happened. She cracked one eye open as he spoke, and once it was apparent that she wasn't about to get battered around or run through, her shoulders sagged as she let out a deep, shaky breath and gave him a wan smile as he turned to leave. Apparently, just because he was an assassin didnt' mean he was a complete monster, willing to show mercy or keep innocents out of the line of fire.

She'd absolutely keep that in mind while she was kicking his ass.

midway through his last sentence, his steps were interrupted as Neo slid between his legs from behind with a deathly silent shift, using her size to her advantage as she situated the parasol so that one end was pressed against the front of one of Char's legs and the other side against the back of the other leg before she twisted it with all her might at the same time that she stood up, intent on sending him sprawling through the air in time for her to complete a full rotation and plant a foot square into his side and send him tumbling down the hallway. She planted her feet afterwards in a dancer's pirouette and patiently waited for him to get his bearings, a light smile on her face and with Hush resting across her shoulders.

She didn't really know who the Bound Ashes were outside of that brief conversation earlier, or why they'd send a freaking hitman team after Mercury, but none of that matter now that they were here;

If someone wanted to take another friend from her, they were going to bleed for it.

 

[Gus Gungus]

"WHAT A JOKE!"



The roar that boomed across the bar did so at the expense of all other conversation, a crack of thunder that filled the ears of those still present no matter where they were and bounced around the metal walls of the bunker, its echoes reaching all the way out to where the likes of Yang and the Rainharts were making their way off to other sections. The voice's originator commanded just as much attention as the bellow itself, slamming an empty flagon down on the bar (one of several) and pushing his stool back with a screech born from his immense weight. He was huge. A fur-trimmed cloak made from the finest pelt hung from shoulders just shy of Hazel's in width and the Ace of Spades bouncer's in muscle definition, supported by arms as thick as a Beringel's and tied together by a face like a grizzly bear's. Only hairier.



He turned, throwing his arms out wide in challenging fashion and daring any in the room to meet his eyes. His slightly dusky complexion identified him as hailing from Remnant's warmer regions, and the eager grin he wore had an undeniable authority and confidence that elevated the display beyond the mere raving of a drunken lout.

"THE BANDIT KING OF VACUO DIDN'T MARCH HIS MEN ACROSS THE DUNES FOR THE SAKE OF A GRIMM HUNT AND SOME SCRAP COLLECTING! HE DIDN'T DO IT TO WIN THE SECRETS OF SOME OVERPRIVILEGED HEIRESS! NO, HE CAME TO THIS FROZEN HELLHOLE LOOKING FOR A GOOD FIGHT! AND WHAT AM I MET WITH INSTEAD?!"

His head jerked towards Nora.

"WHELPS!"

To Grey.

"WEAKLINGS!"

And finally, to Winter.

"MORE OVERPRIVILEGED HEIRESSES!"

The elder Schnee bristled, more than prepared to snap back at this oaf that she wasn't heiress to anything, that he'd do well to watch his tongue if he liked the thought of keeping it. But she'd been fuming so much over Yang's absurd gesture to her that the entire tirade had caught her a bit off-guard, and the moment the first consonant left her mouth the man just opened his and used his far larger lungs to shout her down. Fuming intensified.

"I LOOK AROUND ME AND SEE A FIELD OF NOBODIES! WHERE'S THE GRIT? WHERE ARE THE REAL CONTENDERS?! NOT A SINGLE ONE OF YOU HAS WHAT IT TAKES TO TAKE ME ON!"

"Shaddaaaaaaaaaaap!" Qrow finally snapped from where he was still slumped at the end of the bar, completely unaware of both how many people pertinent to him were now in the room and the fact that he'd completely missed the crucial layout of the entire tournament in his haze of consciousness.

The hulking bandit whirled, all too happy to let the little man serve as the first example of exactly what he was talking about. He blinked, however, upon registering an unexpected presence only a stool or two away, one he was certain hadn't been there when he started talking.





"So hurtful. You didn't even mention me..."

The clown was more garishly dressed than anyone else in the room by a country mile, probably not far off what someone might picture if asked to imagine the polar opposite of the macho bandit. He had one leg flamboyantly crossed over his other, a single finger to his lower lip and heart earrings jangling as he pouted like a scolded child.

The bandit's grin deepened in amusement. "And now a clown. Least you're upfront about being a farce."

"Oh, I don't know. You do look delicious,~♡ but downplaying the others' abilities is such a boring thing to do... I might have to bump you down to eighty-six points for that. That makes you about even with the cowboy," he clucked with a sip of his milk, eyes flitting over briefly to wherever Cobalt was in the room. They reacted appropriately.

The bandit appeared to genuinely like the confidence he saw, but still set his features in a deeply amused sneer. "Hmph. You sound sure. And tell me, where do you rate yourself on this little scorecard of yours?"



The clown's eyes gleamed with a darker shade of mischief.

"♡ Why, I'm a hundred of course. ♡"

---

Yang had frozen mid-step as the announcement went down, her eyes locked onto the nearest screen with a quiet frown. Ironwood had been clear from the start that this was a dangerous job, and even after hearing all this, she was pretty confident she wasn't going down in the coming days.

But damn was this gonna get bloody real quick. Sure, everyone had ostensibly signed up for this, but it was more than a little absurd just how many bodies were gonna be piled up over a freaking video file. An important one? sure, that's why they were all here in the first place. But she couldn't help but wonder if everyone here knew exactly what they were getting into when they signed up for this. It kinda disgusted her to be honest. She couldn't imagine that the lady who's private life they were all gunning for the rights to was probably disgusted by it too.

She huffed and started to shake it off, realized that at some point in that melancholy turn of thoughts her eyes were starting to shift on her and stopped trying to shake it off to instead stew on how stupid this all was, and gave winter the hand sign for 'call me' with a wink as she walked by her ramblings about some island tart who definitely couldnt' be Yang : |

Yang's suite was awesome. The end.

Or in more descriptive terms, it was almost Weiss levels of fancy. The platinum level was the largest in the bunker, and in truth it bore more resemblance to an entire apartment than a room; admittedly one lacking in any kind of personal flair, but it made up for that by having every amenity one could need for a private room and more than a few nobody possibly could. Gladiatorial statues, fountains, a queen-sized bed and a whole ass hot tub built into the floor were just some of what was on offer, and the list went on. A terminal hooked up to the flatscreen had numerous records and footage of prior tournaments, with individual competitors sorted by name.

There were only two indicators in the entire place of prior inhabitancy. One was a dartboard hanging on the wall across from her bed, which had a picture of this world's Ruby pinned to it and riddled by numerous darts with a focus around the eyes. The other was a solitary box tucked away under the bed in a corner, and unless she had any particular use for cuffs, blindfolds, or an extremely yellow ball gag (among other things) it was probably best not to touch any of its contents or think about them ever.

The loitering conversation was as awkward for those around as it was for the siblings, Hazel hanging in an askance slant as he internally struggled with the difficulty of leaving her be. After all... it was something that never came easily. It was with a reluctant nod of the head that he assented to the idea, being the first to disengage and wander through out into the open to survey the facilities they had to offer.

Which left Gretchen alone, a stark realization which crept on her without fail, her lower lip chewed in thought before she arrived at a decision.

"Here we go..."

She followed suit, though purposefully elected for the other avenues.

The bunker was such a vast labyrinth of floors and samey corridors that it was easy to get turned around, but thankfully every one of the androids at work keeping it maintained were prepared to project a holographic map if prompted. Splitting off by one's self could also lead to the sense of isolation setting in fast, with most of the competitors tending to converge in particular areas or spend time in their room rather than wander.

Isolation wasn't quite the word for what Gretchen felt though. As she meandered, the occasional soft step that echoed from around a bend or the next hall over spoke to a different feeling, one equally as eerie if not more so: that of being followed.

As for Hazel, when his own explorations eventually led him to the bunker's training wing he found it predominantly empty, though there were so many different rooms it was hard to tell for sure. One noteworthy exception was to be found in a room bearing resemblance to a dojo, where sliding open the door revealed lights almost completely dimmed and a lone figure quietly meditating within. It wasn't quite as serene a sight as it should've been: when his eyes had adjusted to the gloom, the only visage on the figure to be seen spoke to a ferociousness that belied his tranquil calm. Both eyes on the lupine helmet he wore flared open, burning vivid red in the darkness to stare holes through the boy, and what faint glow they offered revealed hands that were clasped together against the musclebound figure's chest.



As if in prayer.​

 

[MyrtenRose]

*thonk*

"Ow!"

Where was she pulling all these bottles from?!

"What?? I'm the one apologizing and you throw a bottle at me?! You're a real piece of work, toots!"

"Oh, you have no idea, blondie. Should just count yourself lucky you're not fighting the me of two months ago." ​

As he was tackled to the ground, he let Vernal punch away at him. Without so much as a care in the world if his expression was anything to go by.

"Hehehe...Hahahah!"

Blow after blow came down upon him and Vernal could see herself getting older and older with each punch. Raising his arms up to block the next incoming barrage of punches, Blanche's aura shimmered around him and he panted due to the strain it was putting on him to keep Beyond the Years going and get pummeled at the same time. "Some people just don't learn, huh? I told you..." The mist flowed around Vernal's person causing her aura to shimmer as it continued aging her just as he'd said it would. "Beyond the Years works even better in close quarters!" Placing both hands on Vernal's hips, he sought to push her off him to the side. Throughout all that punching, his latest cigarette had been left okay.

It truly felt so good to have a punching bag to pummel, for so many reasons. Every time her fists made contact, her smile got just a little bit wider. It faded when she got pushed off him though, giving the guy some breathing room. Her head shot up immediately to put the guy back into view--​

"Gotta admit...You almost did a number on me there...Was about to have to choose between keeping the mist going or dealing with you.."

He moved to give Vernal a sharp kick to the side of the head.

There was a pained grunt as the force of that kick sent her rolling across the ground for a few feet, but that motion ended with her managing to backflip into a standing position once again. "Hmph." She rubbed at the spot where he'd kicked her head, sounding and looking both impressed yet irritated at the same time. She really expected he'd have been done by now. Guess I'll just have to hurry this along.​

"I just can't wrap my head around why you're sticking your nose in other people's business. The hell you get out of bashing bottles over my head?" Truth be told in between getting punched over and over like that and the range he was forcing his semblance to spread to, he was hoping to keep Vernal distracted enough until she got old enough(early-mid 40s)for him to get rid of without too much trouble. So the talking continued.

"Stress relief." She hissed out with a voice heavy with that irritation. Her eyes darkened again, but this time it was different. She went back to using her semblance, but instead of doing it for a lengthy blindness, she went to use it in a burst this time so that it did not put too much of a strain on her aura. To leave as much of it as possible to help slow the effect of that guy's own semblance. The short time of blindness Blanche got stricken with, followed by him seeing just fine...it gave Vernal the appearance that she had just teleported, given how she was suddenly in a different position than she had been when he last saw her. He didn't have much time to appreciate that fact though, since by the time his sight returned, her fist was already on its way towards smashing his nose.

The moment it hit, or it was dodged in an impressive display of reflex, either way his vision darkened again and when it lit back up a second or two later, Vernal was no longer in sight. The only warning he got of the incoming elbow strike coming for the back of his head intended to slam him down facefirst into the ground was his aura alerting him of danger.​

 

[MyrtenRose]

"THE BANDIT KING OF VACUO DIDN'T MARCH HIS MEN ACROSS THE DUNES FOR THE SAKE OF A GRIMM HUNT AND SOME SCRAP COLLECTING! HE DIDN'T DO IT TO WIN THE SECRETS OF SOME OVERPRIVILEGED HEIRESS! NO, HE CAME TO THIS FROZEN HELLHOLE LOOKING FOR A GOOD FIGHT! AND WHAT AM I MET WITH INSTEAD?!"

His head jerked towards Nora.

"WHELPS!"

"EXCUSE ME?!" Nora yelled back. "Listen here, you giant blowhard! I might be small but I promise you, if I see you in the fights to come? The only thing you'll win...IS GETTING BURIED IN A GIANT CRATER. You better believe it--"

"Shut the fuck up."

Tock repeated the same sentiment as Qrow, though she sounded far less drunk and way more like she would actually shut Valkyrie up by whatever means necessary if the hammer wielding girl didn't comply. But Nora did, mouth sliding closed as her eyes narrowed in a glare, staying firmly locked on following that faunus's walk, annoyance evident in those turquoise eyes throughout every step the croc took on her way towards the big braggart. She stopped right in front of him, and although she had to look up to even meet the guy's eyes, she didn't even seem the least bit worried or frightened or any of that. She temporarily broke off glaring at his face to give the guy an almost lazy once-over. When she raised her head back up to stare into his eyes once again, she seemed even more unconcerned, if that was even possible. Her hands moved to rest on her hips, her mouth slightly raising up in a faint smirk.

"The Bandit King of Vacuo, huh?" She snickered derisively. "I'm not impressed. Not even a little. Far as I can tell, you're even more of a clown than him." She jerked her head at the guy literally dressed up in clown makeup. "He's just more 'onest about it." Her yellow eyes shifted to direct a side-eyed stare over at the clown himself. "You louts can run yer mouths about seeing a field of nobodies in 'ere or rating yourselves the top score on some arbitrary scorecard all ya like. It don't matter. Until ya fight, those are just empty words. We'll see if ya can back up yer words. I wouldn't bet on it though." ​

 

[Gus Gungus]

"The Bandit King of Vacuo, huh?" She snickered derisively. "I'm not impressed. Not even a little. Far as I can tell, you're even more of a clown than him." She jerked her head at the guy literally dressed up in clown makeup. "He's just more 'onest about it." Her yellow eyes shifted to direct a side-eyed stare over at the clown himself. "You louts can run yer mouths about seeing a field of nobodies in 'ere or rating yourselves the top score on some arbitrary scorecard all ya like. It don't matter. Until ya fight, those are just empty words. We'll see if ya can back up yer words. I wouldn't bet on it though."

The jester's reaction was as strange as everything else about him. He offered Tock a pleasant smile, uncrossed and recrossed his legs the other way with unnatural grace, and shut his eyes, notably lacking in concern himself. "They're for me, so I wouldn't worry about it. Eighty-eight points."

The bandit, on the other hand, threw his head back and shook the room with a thunderous laugh, not to be usurped in the lack of deference department. "HA! Well, here's SOMETHING at least! Tell you what, girlie. If you don't turn out to be a weakling or a whelp, then as your reward I'll wear those scales of yours as a pelt once you're dead. Now did you come over here to make somethin' of it, or are you gonna actually pay attention to that clock you're lugging around? It says it's time to sit back down."

He folded his titanic arms, baring his teeth in a goading rictus that made it abundantly clear how much he wanted her to take option B.​

 

[MyrtenRose]

The jester's reaction was as strange as everything else about him. He offered Tock a pleasant smile, uncrossed and recrossed his legs the other way with unnatural grace, and shut his eyes, notably lacking in concern himself. "They're for me, so I wouldn't worry about it. Eighty-eight points."

"Whatever."​

The bandit, on the other hand, threw his head back and shook the room with a thunderous laugh, not to be usurped in the lack of deference department. "HA! Well, here's SOMETHING at least! Tell you what, girlie. If you don't turn out to be a weakling or a whelp, then as your reward I'll wear those scales of yours as a pelt once you're dead. Now did you come over here to make somethin' of it, or are you gonna actually pay attention to that clock you're lugging around? It says it's time to sit back down."

He folded his titanic arms, baring his teeth in a goading rictus that made it abundantly clear how much he wanted her to take option B.

"Oh yeah, good luck with that, pal." She snorted and rolled her eyes at the idea of her scales being some moron's pelt. "And if you're asking if I'm about to start a fight 'ere and now, then the answer's no. It ain't the time for kicking some blowhard's ass quite yet. I'm just saying, from what I see and 'ear with you bragging up a storm? Big man, little dick." ​

 

[Gus Gungus]

"Oh yeah, good luck with that, pal." She snorted and rolled her eyes at the idea of her scales being some moron's pelt. "And if you're asking if I'm about to start a fight 'ere and now, then the answer's no. It ain't the time for kicking some blowhard's ass quite yet. I'm just saying, from what I see and 'ear with you bragging up a storm? Big man, little dick."

Without a word, pause, or even the slightest modicum of shame, he whipped it out and showed her.

It wasn't.



"Eighty-nine points...!"​