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"Well it's good to see you're staying out of trouble, Arthur."

He didn't know whether to be offended when he was promptly ignored by them, the group of Beacon students vanishing as mysteriously as they appeared.

"Shut up, James" Was Arthur's only response before the ignoring commenced

Mercury didn't have much of an outward reaction when Watts made his implicit meaning clear. Inwardly was another story, and his grip tightened on the steering wheel as he gunned it down Mistral's winding roads, most of which happened to be adjacent to steep drops, in a stupid car with way too many people in it. It was absolutely terrifying.

His lack of response to Watts was not one shared by Emerald. The other team's leader felt her eyes tunneling into him with disdain from across the entirety of the backseat, and a particularly distinctive oak tree they passed by on their way down from the mountain held a much more distinctive sight for Watts and Watts alone in the form of himself, hanging from a noose off the tallest branch with Xes scratched out where his eyes should've been.

Whatever comical levels of annoyance Watts felt at being treated like a particularly easy to win claw game toy faded into grim silence at Emerald's unspoken message. It wasn't as if it was undeserved. This was his plan putting their teammate in danger, even if he considered Neo a friend himself. and the delivery...

----Earlier-----

Watts knew that man; it was why he shoved the rest of mten back around the corner when they rounded it and saw Carnelian through Tock's window. Carnelian was a name in the history books in both Atlas and Beacon, and more importantly, it was a name splattered across the military files Watts had dug through in his time in Atlas like a Tarantino blood spill. They'd just had a sobering lesson in their limits, in his mind; if the veteran hunters couldn't handle him, he doubted they could, and the best they could do was hope to play spoiler while they were still outside the range of his semblance. The plan was to stay out of range, let the fight go as it would, and only jump in if absolutely necessary.

Unfortunately...

fter a display like that? He most certainly was still present. He had shifted further back into the shadows that became him so well by the time the spellbinding light finally dimmed, artificial eye dilating as it eagerly captured every moment even when forced to screw shut his organic one lest it go blind.

"In that case, what if I told you that I'm going to eviscerate this scorpion fellow right now if you don't hand the relic over without a fuss?"

...It was absolutely going to be necessary. Watts swore under his breath as his brain worked a mile a minute to try and figure out a way to stop this from happening. The enemy getting the relic was horrible, Tyrian dying was unthinkable, and if they just tried to fight him like he'd watched all the adults try to do before getting clowned on like a bunch of toddlers, then both were going to happen. No, they needed to do something more indirect, more...

His eyes snapped over to Neo, and narrowed with the birth of a plan. He whirled on the other two.

"Emerald, Mercury; We need a car, or an airship, now. Meet us four blocks south, as fast as you can." As soon as they did, he turned to Neo.

"Neo, I need you to... neo."

The young girl, even in the midst of all of this going so very wrong, barely paid him any mind. She was slumped with her back against the building, her arms crossed over her knees as she stared off into space.

"Neo, I understand that you're hurting, but this is important."

"..."

"Listen!" He grabbed her by both shoulders and forced her to face him with a growl, startling her eyes into a bit of confused life that she had no desire to be experiencing as Watts whispered harshly to her. "Torchwick is gone, and if you just sit here and do nothing then my teammate is going to join him! He will die, it will be my fault, and it will be yours! Get your shit together for five minutes or put another death on your conscience; your choice!"

If the shocked hurt on her face moved him at all, it didn't show past his steady glare, and eventually she shoved his hands off her shoulders and turned away with glistening eyes.

But she did nod.

------Now-------

He'd never been particularly skilled at softening his words. In the moment, when it was act or watch his friend die, there wasn't any regret on his mind at how he handled her. It, and making her the one in Carnelian's crosshairs, was purely tactics; Even without her semblance, she was the most nimble one at their disposal, and as long as she wasn't focused on attacking Carnelian, there was a good chance his semblance wouldn't see through the ruse. Instead of a direct disobeyment of his demands, a third party would interfere, forcing him to choose between the fight and the relic, and such split focus would only be an advantage towards the veterans. It was sound, logical, and had the highest chance of success.

It also was leaving him with a nasty pit of dread in his stomach that had nothing to do with Mercury's driving. He gave more specific navigation as they neared the city's edge, and finally pointed a finger down a street that left it entirely with a snap.

"That one. Keep speed."

As the hot rod tore down the streets, at a higher level of the stratified city a blur suddenly appeared. Blake Belladonna jumped off the rooftops ahead of them in a swan dive, her masked amber eyes locked on the car with an inscrutable expression and weapons in hand before she flipped, stuck her sword up, and suddenly shattered to reveal Neo in the same pose as she snapped open her parasol with one hand as she cradle the relic in the other, bringing her descent to a jolting slow that left her floating well within Hazel's grasp as they passed.

Wherever the giant deigned to stow her she slumped with the relic cradled in both arms as she gave an exhausted huff. Copying Blake's shadow clones, doing the shadow fang assassin from memory in the first place, and maintaining the illusion of Watts' wound had pushed her semblance to the absolute limit, and her aura meter would've been cause for a fight stop in the vytal festival even though she hadn't been touched. Even outside of that, though, her gaze was dull and resentful as she stared out the window, no joy or relief at a job well done on her face.

"...Thank you, Neo" Watts muttered quietly as he glanced down at his scroll. "Keep south. Carnelian seems to be keen on getting back to Atlas, and-"

He blanched as his scroll rang, and he double checked that it was going through the local network he set up rather than the wider remains of the CCT before he deigned to answer.

"Raven." He stated calmly. "Be wary of what you say. I assume you're not currently fighting the geriatric tornado if you're calling, but he may still be listening in."
 
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Well, as far as she knew, the relic was gone. She had no idea what had become of her otherself or even her friends.

She'd been kicked in the face and thrown through a window and clocked square in the mouth.

Picking herself up and brushing herself off, Neo sighed.

Her first try at being a 'protector' and she'd done miserably.

"gr....!"

She swung her fist outwards against the side of a nearby building. Her aura flared around her hand and she ignored the pain seeping through that hand now. Ever since she'd ended up in this world it was one fiasco after another. How could she ever have been so foolish as to think that a Neopolitan would ever get to be happy no matter which world they called home? It seemed that she was destined to watch the only person she'd ever loved die over and over despite her best efforts. Then when she tried making amends in the only way she knew how, she ended up fighting somebody who completely no-selled her semblance rendering her almost entirely useless to the proceedings. Grabbing a handful of her hair, she tugged on it and hissed.

She was a total idiot!

It didn't matter which side she'd fought on! She was no good for either one! Being forced to aid team evil back at Haven had earned her nothing but an admonishment and to watch both another version of herself go through watching another version of Roman die. When she tried lending a hand to the side her other was on, she'd only ended up making an ass of herself. It was frustrating, it was upsetting, it was...

Neo stopped pacing around and looked up at the sky. Would it have been easier if she spoke to them? To try and explain that she didn't care to be their enemy anymore? That all she wanted was to see Roman's murderer's head on a pike??? If she only could?!

...Heh, it probably would have.

Balling her hands up and throwing her head back, Neo opened her mouth and

"Fu..."

The thief at this moment very much preferred the sweet release of death following the indelible suffering she experienced, bringing the question to mind as to whether someone was truly saved, from the horrendous abuse or its debilitating aftereffects? In any case, Emerald did slump down to her haunches, resting against the mountain side with a faraway look to her eyes, mouth erratically open and shut, before tumbling to her left. The lingering dust-cordite odor wafted from the muzzle of the revolver adjacent to her stomach, its chambers entirely expended, with the other in sickle form splayed across her right flank and outer thigh, her hands gripping firmly for purchase on a semblance of safety and peace. Her chest heaved out as she wordlessly sobbed, the tears streaking perpendicularly from red eyes that refused to blink.

Wh-where are you, Mercury? Cinder...? I... I...


Whatever escaped past her lips screamed to the sky above, Neo's face was a mess of tears and running makeup.

Damn it, she'd just gotten it to look how she wanted before this whole mess broke out.

Where the hell would she go from there?

She wasn't an idiot and that's why she'd kept her distance from the others for the most part. After the incident at Haven, they likely weren't going to believe she wanted to be onboard. Or at least they wouldn't unless maybe they heard her reasoning and even then, she imagined some of them would still want to fight her. Trying to take on Ozpin's forces by herself would only be an exercise in how to achieve suicide.

...Though with how things were going...

Neo sniffled and wiped the mascara away.

Neo glanced over at where Emerald had been left and her frown only intensified. They hadn't exactly been chums back home and even here, Neo gave more eye rolls and snorts than any actual respect or friendship. Then again, that kind of relationship didn't seem fitting for either of the two women so maybe it was better that way.

Even so, Neo had been completely useless in trying to stop Carneilan from beating on Emerald. Notch it up as another failure of the so called 'Protector.'

"..."

Neo made her way over and hesitantly reached over to try and place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

It wasn't much but Neo didn't exactly have much practice with comforting people. Nobody every bothered to give her the same kindness.

But if she could do this one thing, maybe, just maybe, this could be her one success for the day.​
 


"BULLSHIT!"

It was the most furious, disgusted, infinitely disappointed explosion of anger Raven had ever felt directed towards her and her lifestyle by her kin. For the longest time he'd tried to come to terms with Raven's ways, or at least understand how someone could actually live like this and feel any kind of inner peace or acceptance towards her choices. The only way Qrow could figure it was that she didn't. Deep down, past all the gruffness and posturing facades, Qrow knew full well that a strand embedded in the very core of his sister's being burned with absolute loathing for herself, in a way he of all people could ironically probably relate to more than anyone else in either of their twisted up lives. And yet, they never even had a conversation about it; most likely because Raven refused to acknowledge its existence. For as wildly different and ethically opposed as they had become, Qrow never hated his sister. He never wanted to lose that connection. There was still that unbreakable sibling bond there, the thing that still let Raven open portals to him even after all this time.

But she picked the wrong time for this, and he was done with all that. He was done with her crap, he was done trying to get it, and he was done letting her saunter away from every situation with a stuffy attitude and air of superiority over those less-thans who committed the unforgivable sin of actually giving a damn about something. He stomped forward with plain aggression, and the bandit chieftain found her collar snatched and yanked forward so they were eye-to-eye without much regard for her comfort, then proceeded to more or less just ream her entire existence.

"Your daughter doesn't matter? If Yang dies on some alien crapsack world 'cause you never worked out a healthy way to get over dad's parenting style it doesn't MATTER?! WHAT MATTERS TO YOU, SIS?!?! AND DON'T SAY THE RELICS, DON'T SAY SURVIVAL, 'CAUSE I KNOW FOR DAMN SURE YOU DON'T HAVE ANYTHING WORTH SURVIVING FOR BACK HOME, NOT ONE THING THAT MAKES YOU FEEL EVEN A TINY SHRED OF HAPPINESS! GO AHEAD! NAME ONE! NAME A SINGLE THING YOU CONSIDER IMPORTANT TO YOU THAT ISN'T JUST SOME BACKWOODS RHETORIC WE GOT SHOVELED DOWN OUR THROATS BY A BUNCHA MANGY SURVIVALISTS WHEN WE WERE KIDS! ARE YOU SERIOUSLY TELLING ME THAT'S ALL YOU ARE? WHAT THE HELL IS THE POINT OF YOU, RAVEN!? WHY COULDN'T YOU JUST BE WORTH A DAMN?!"

For all the deadly power she possessed, for all the lethal skill she had honed over the years, for every bit she thought herself the toughest and strongest of the tribe and did what she could so that all the rest knew it to be true...it had been enough to keep a group of hardened thieves and killers and drunken rabble in line. But it wasn’t enough to keep her from widening her eyes in shock, to prevent her from looking like a deer caught in the headlights of some extra large 16-wheeler...that was also an armored military tank. That was how it felt to have that righteous blazing anger from Qrow projected onto her.

Despite how powerful and how cunning and how tough she thought she was, despite the things that she had done and said for years now, as willing as she was to go to places others wouldn’t, all done in the name of survival...none of it helped. Every bit of her resolve shattered from the crushing blows those words inflicted.

She felt like a child again.

She didn’t even offer any token resistance to the way Qrow was clutching her by the collar. The yank forward had pulled her in and even somewhat off her feet, the bottom of her heels not even reaching the ground anymore...and even so she didn’t push back. The only physical response was her eyes staring deep into his, crimson meeting crimson. It was hard to gauge the look in her eyes. It seemed like there were a million emotions swimming in those wide eyes.

But no words.

Not for the longest time. A wait of absolute silence that lasted so long it might well have been called an eternity. But it did come, eventually. An answer to every single one of his questions and demands to know what exactly she had left in her life that was worth anything, that wasn’t something she’d learned as a child growing up the way she had.

WHAT MATTERS TO YOU, SIS?!?!

“...I...I...”

ARE YOU SERIOUSLY TELLING ME THAT'S ALL YOU ARE?

“...d-don’t...”

WHAT THE HELL IS THE POINT OF YOU, RAVEN!?

“...know...”
WHY COULDN'T YOU JUST BE WORTH A DAMN?!"

“I DON’T KNOW!!!”

Some part of her finally moved to pull herself out of his grasp, upon which she collapsed onto her knees. There was the sound of wretched miserable sobbing when that truth was forced out of her, an act so pathetic that a part of her judged herself cruelly for it, even if the rest of her didn’t care in that moment. Tears fell onto the ground below as she looked down towards it, hands splayed out atop it.

“I don’t know.” She choked out a third and final time. She had run from Tai, abandoned Qrow, left Summer to her fate, given up Yang, let Vernal die in her place......no reason she could try to give to any of that felt good enough anymore. What was the point in trying to survive if it cost her everything?

Not even the one last thing she could have tried to hold on to, the name Raven Branwen and all the weight it held...that wasn’t something she could claim as only hers anymore! Not with the other Raven running around. Someone everyone seemed to view as better anyway.

She...truly had nothing. She couldn’t even run away from this despondent situation. The only possible places she could portal to were to the man right before her...and...somewhere she just couldn’t go.​
 
Yang kept her silence apart from a shrug at Weiss' outburst, content to drift fully into a sullen quiet as she dragged herself after Weiss' strides. Thank god for short legs. Her head was on a swivel as she walked, paying no mind to the stares she was getting outside of a smirk and a wink at one guard who stared just a little too long. Maybe she'd never get a chance to do anything with it, but if Weiss intended to keep her here, doing her best to learn the layout was gonna have to be step one. Step one of what exactly she wasn't sure yet, but it was definitely step one of something.

When they reached the bay and Weiss had her quiet conversation with the doc, the fact that Yang didn't make out what it was wasn't for a lack of trying as she leaned in closer, only to glance way with an innocent look at the ceiling when Weiss and the attendant turned their focus onto her. She waved the attendant off as they tried to help her, and gingerly lifted herself onto the bed with one arm in only the way someone who was used to the lack of appendage could, if not with the usual lazy grace.

she let her head thump against the pillow and took a deep breath as she closed her eyes, enjoying this one moment of comfort in favor of wallowing in the pain as Weiss' words washed over her. She cracked one eye open to look at the heiress with a quiet, contemplative frown, a feeling of judgement in the gaze that was wholly out of place given the situation.

After a few seconds she closed it again and let her her drift back down onto the pillow.

"You're apparently gonna kill me if I try to treat you like a decent person or appeal to basic morals, so I won't." She drawled "But you haven't done anything too horrible to me yet, so... I dunno, kind of hoping you're willing to at least consider some advice?" She looked up at the ceiling with a frown.

"...Ozpin wants, no, needs all four relics. That includes the one keeping that city underneath us in the air. It doesn't seem like you're lying, that you really do want to keep Atlas in the sky and not the reason there's a crater where mantle used to be. Maybe you already knew that, but I gotta assume you either don't, or your underestimating what he can do."

She forced her head back up and affixed Weiss with a firm glare.

"Don't."

She was painfully aware that giving advice like this was drifting pretty close to the whole sermonizing or philosophizing that Weiss said she'd get a good old fashion stabbing for, and that she was in, very genuinely, the worst position one could possibly be in to try and tell someone dangerous they were doing something wrong, but this might be her last chance to talk to this Weiss before she got put under and, she didn't know Weiss put a bomb in her or something and waited for Raven to yeet her back through a portal to all her squishy family members. Ruby's speeches to Watts' must've inspired her

"World's biggest incel or not, whatever you think he's capable of bringing to bear if you force his hand, you're lowballing it. The only reason he's playing this shadow game with Salem is because all four kingdoms together could keep him in check. Atlas might be the biggest, but you've still spent the last week burning all those bridges. You're either gonna need to reverse that track quick, give him what he wants, or face it down yourselves. And trust me-" She finished as she laid her head back

"-That's not a fight even the most dangerous military in the world is winning by themselves."

She huffed out a breath and had the audacity to give a halfhearted smirk as she flapped her remaining hand

"And that's all I got, unless you got specific questions you wanna toss. Go ahead and do whatever... freaky science surgery you're planning on doing here."

She wasn't an idiot. If Weiss really just wanted to let Yang heal, she would've tossed her in a cell and kept the aura dampening off till Yang was short three broken ribs and about a thousand bruises compared to now. She didn't know what this was, and she was definitely scared witless not happy that it was happening, but there was pretty much heck all she could do about it, so like hell did she plan to show it.



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"You're scared."

It wasn't a question. Generally if Yang didn't want to show someone she was scared (on those rare occasions the stars aligned and circumstances actually brought about such an occurrence), it didn't happen. She was too tough, too feisty, too much of a genuine badass in the face of even the worst odds to let her more compromising emotions show, especially to her enemies.

So it said all that needed to be said about this Weiss's powers of observation, about the sheer analytic brilliance contained behind the glacial blue eyes that had been narrowing millimeter by millimeter ever since Yang started talking, that she cut right through every front and barrier the huntress had to speak those two words aloud with deadpan conviction, spiked by a knowing, patronizing tone that left little room for argument. Something about the way this Weiss's eyes lingered on a person felt exposing. As though her true semblance was the gift of simple, elevated clarity, an affinity for staring right through all the layers of clothing, skin, and the facades people liked to wear to strip bare the core of a person's motives underneath it. The human mind wasn't so terribly complex. Typically you could draw a simple, straight line between people's actions and whatever spark of emotion drove them to undertake them, and once you made that connection... humans became easy. Predictable. Child's play, really.

Being held in a gaze so keenly understanding of exactly where you were coming from could be reassuring, in a strange way. Validating. It had done wonders for her rapid climb up the corporate ladder.

It could also make you feel like you were naked, strapped down to a lab table and scheduled for dissection. Yang had to decide for herself where it was on that spectrum she fell as Weiss made her way around to take a seat on the bed, gracefully alighting close enough to start fiddling with the huntress's blankets so they were distributed a bit more neatly.

"Commendable job trying to hide it, but I know a terrified little girl feigning a stiff upper lip when I see one. Believe me, I know."

There was something almost maternal about the way she plucked a few locks of Yang's hair from her shoulder, finally offering the blonde a reprieve from the incising, soul-reaching stare as she curled the locks around thumb and forefinger. No mind was paid to the faculty as they milled around making preparations for the anaesthesia, one taking Yang's arm and going about the process of inserting the needle.

"It's why you don't get it. It's why you can't, and why I don't expect you to. You lack the discipline to understand that this is the way forward; you just don't have the perspective. How could you? You're still listening to everything this tells you." She gave her a light prod in the chest, fingertip picking out where the heart was, and exhaled in wry, earnest amusement. "Thanks for the advice. In return I'd like to offer you some of my own, and if you take so much as a word of it on board this whole 'life' thing is going to start seeming far more sensible. It's not something they teach you in huntress school. Ready?"

Her smirk was relaxed, coy, and strangely benevolent, considering the content of her next words.

"The world is cruel. I'm sorry, play optimist all you like, but it's true. People do awful things to one another in the name of getting ahead, and history has shown it time and time again. The data's all there. These four kingdoms you have so much faith in? Built on a foundation of exploitation and blood. The men and women who founded them? No different to Ozpin. He's just less subtle about being a monster."

She stood up, letting Yang's hair and the hand playing with it drop as she made her way over to the bedside window, glare cold, distant, and fixated on the city the ship was orbiting; along with the reflection staring back at her.

"And now here we stand. The world is on the brink of disaster, and the blame falls squarely on the failure of those in power. Their inability to form a unified front, one capable of defending against an enemy of Ozpin's magnitude. Your Salems, your Ironwoods. Their insistence on running this conflict from the shadows practically handed Ozpin the keys to victory. Why, you ask?"

Yang probably didn't, but Weiss was definitely going to tell her anyway.

"Because they just can't keep their petty, little, emotions out of it. Salem's guilt. Ironwood's paranoia. Lionheart's cowardice. These are the people we're meant to entrust our futures to? I suppose it's not entirely their fault; they simply aren't up to the task. But they should never have taken the responsibility on their shoulders to begin with. You know what they are? Relics. Bygone artifacts from another time, exercising total control over a society that can't flourish under their leadership anymore. They can't save the world."


Even by Yang's lofty standards, the level of sheer committed resolve in the next words were like something forged in the heat of a sun, yet tempered by a deep, icy smugness, a frigid self belief that could've converted that sun to an icy ball in mere moments. She glanced back over, radiating an overwhelming air of satisfaction in herself as she smiled charitably, giving a primping flick of her ponytail.

"I can."

The sharp, pinching sting of the needle going in somehow only added to the emphatic quality to those words, the physicians preparing the tube though no sedative flowed through it yet. Weiss's eyes had shifted to the horizon, the scope of her ambition going far beyond just Atlas.

"It's what my entire life has been preparing me for. You might think I'm underestimating Ozpin, but I see him for exactly what he is. Another angry man with a lot of reach who thinks he has me under his thumb. Frankly, your lack of faith in my ability to deal with him is a little insulting. If the Weiss Schnee you knew bore even a passing resemblance to me, then is it really so hard to believe this threat is one I was born to face? That it might be my destiny?" The cigarette she produced from her pocket was lit with an icy blue flame projected from her fingertip, Weiss ignoring if not outright oblivious to the glares of the medical staff as she leaned her shoulder against the wall with aplomb. "He may well be mankind's most dangerous enemy, but he's nothing new to me in far more ways than I care to describe. He's simply the top rung in a ladder of enemies I've been ascending ever since I was a girl—One I'm not finished climbing yet. As I said, our alliance has been beneficial, and right now he's still a toy. A resource I'm using to consolidate power and relieve the board of some unnecessary pieces. But there comes a time when all toys must be discarded."

She exhaled a cloud of smoke as her eyes flashed luminescent blue, and it was unclear whether it was a trick of the light or not.

"Or, they break. What emerges from the ashes of that conflict is a new paradigm. One where every corner of every kingdom is presided over by someone with enough mastery over themselves to be worthy of the responsibility. Someone uninhibited by the burden of feelings, a heart made of stone and a mind sharp enough to determine what's right and fair for everybody. A leader completely devoid of petty concepts like anger, hate, and prejudice. Something new. You know what that sounds like to me?"


She chuckled, already halfway done with the cigarette, burning through it at a rate only people who had learned to live with the highest possible levels of stress the human body was capable of sustaining could relate to.

"The beginning of a less cruel world. So here's the advice. When you wake up, think about everything I just told you. Think about the cycle of self-destruction and negligence humanity's been putting itself through for centuries, how it stands on the precipice of being wiped out by Grimm yet again. And if you really don't know how to get home, think about carving out a nice, quiet life for yourself somewhere and staying out of the affairs of a world that doesn't belong to you. Because this world?"


As Yang felt the anaesthesia start to flow and consciousness rapidly start draining away, the eyes that beheld her were rife with that same, incisive coldness, and the words that heralded her descent into blackness sounded further and further away even with the low note of warning they carried.

"This world is mine."
 
"Raven." He stated calmly. "Be wary of what you say. I assume you're not currently fighting the geriatric tornado if you're calling, but he may still be listening in."

“Explain.” She seemed to acknowledge his words in full, keeping it absolutely brief, the very definition of bare minimum.​
 
For all the deadly power she possessed, for all the lethal skill she had honed over the years, for every bit she thought herself the toughest and strongest of the tribe and did what she could so that all the rest knew it to be true...it had been enough to keep a group of hardened thieves and killers and drunken rabble in line. But it wasn’t enough to keep her from widening her eyes in shock, to prevent her from looking like a deer caught in the headlights of some extra large 16-wheeler...that was also an armored military tank. That was how it felt to have that righteous blazing anger from Qrow projected onto her.

Despite how powerful and how cunning and how tough she thought she was, despite the things that she had done and said for years now, as willing as she was to go to places others wouldn’t, all done in the name of survival...none of it helped. Every bit of her resolve shattered from the crushing blows those words inflicted.

She felt like a child again.

She didn’t even offer any token resistance to the way Qrow was clutching her by the collar. The yank forward had pulled her in and even somewhat off her feet, the bottom of her heels not even reaching the ground anymore...and even so she didn’t push back. The only physical response was her eyes staring deep into his, crimson meeting crimson. It was hard to gauge the look in her eyes. It seemed like there were a million emotions swimming in those wide eyes.

But no words.

Not for the longest time. A wait of absolute silence that lasted so long it might well have been called an eternity. But it did come, eventually. An answer to every single one of his questions and demands to know what exactly she had left in her life that was worth anything, that wasn’t something she’d learned as a child growing up the way she had.



“...I...I...”



“...d-don’t...”



“...know...”




“I DON’T KNOW!!!”

Some part of her finally moved to pull herself out of his grasp, upon which she collapsed onto her knees. There was the sound of wretched miserable sobbing when that truth was forced out of her, an act so pathetic that a part of her judged herself cruelly for it, even if the rest of her didn’t care in that moment. Tears fell onto the ground below as she looked down towards it, hands splayed out atop it.

“I don’t know.” She choked out a third and final time. She had run from Tai, abandoned Qrow, left Summer to her fate, given up Yang, let Vernal die in her place......no reason she could try to give to any of that felt good enough anymore. What was the point in trying to survive if it cost her everything?

Not even the one last thing she could have tried to hold on to, the name Raven Branwen and all the weight it held...that wasn’t something she could claim as only hers anymore! Not with the other Raven running around. Someone everyone seemed to view as better anyway.

She...truly had nothing. She couldn’t even run away from this despondent situation. The only possible places she could portal to were to the man right before her...and...somewhere she just couldn’t go.

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Oh.

That was... He supposed a part of him forgot that side of his sister even existed. That there was still a person under there, despite it all. That Raven Branwen hadn't gone away or become corrupted or possessed, she'd just... changed. Or maybe become more like who she was always meant to be. He just... he couldn't wrap his head around it. Couldn't come to terms with it, or say the fact that his sister was a murdering bandit who turned her back on her own family didn't make him sick to his stomach. So much resentment had built up from that feeling over the years, a hostility and frustration that had only manifested in taunts and sarcastic criticisms every time they crossed paths over the years until Haven marked a turning point.

And now... this. It was just so jarring, seeing her show up after all the time he'd spent with a kinder, more deserving version of her, one with a fraction of the power but a hundred times the courage, easy. It was nice, but he knew it had a time limit, and at some point he'd be flung back into the messy, warped Branwen dynamic he'd spent his entire life feeling guilty and ashamed about. He just didn't expect that day to be so soon. Seeing her throw her callous disregard for Yang in his face again, even though it was exactly the response he was expecting down to every last word, had pushed him over the line. Why couldn't she be better? Why couldn't she be someone he was proud of, like the other Raven? Why'd she have to run away from everything and everyone who ever gave a crap about her?

His sister was crying. No matter how much he might've felt a few tears were warranted after all the suffering and pain she'd caused over the years, it was still a sight that went against his every protective urge and instinct. It took a few moments of hesitance, but with a slow, unsure awkwardness to his movements he crouched down and put a hand on her shoulder.

"...I... I'm sorry, Raven. I know. Believe me... I do."

And he did. What was so great about his life, after all? How much of what he just roared at her could be applied just as accurately to him? Yeah, he could at least say he had principles, that he at least thought he was doing the right thing. But... everything he did for Ozpin had been in defense of one big lie. Where were all his friends? Where were all the people who cared about him so much? For years all he had was booze and a cause he didn't even know the whole truth of, the sheer futility of it. What was it he had that gave him any kind of a right to judge?

The answer, of course, was obvious.
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He closed his eyes. "...You ever get a feeling like the two of us are cursed? I don't know if it's me, or Oz's magic, or maybe just some... hereditary thing. But I'm not sure we can ever be happy. Either of us. Something... something in the old Branwen bloodline is just... busted. The one thing, the only thing that keeps me going these days is my family. Knowing they're safe."

He opened them again, and averted them to avoid whatever scorn, mockery or derision Raven's might've met them with after this next part. He just had to say it.

"That's always gonna include you."

He stood up, unsure of what else there was to do or say. He slipped his hands inside his pockets and walked over to the roof edge, but prior to hopping off something seemed to occur to him. He glanced over his shoulder.

"...Just tell me she's okay. You have a way of knowing, right? It's how you bailed her out before. Tell me she's not in immediate trouble, or... or pain."

Another portal rescue was off the table anyway. The first attempt let Weiss and her mad dog wreak absolute carnage on them, and that was just a result of the maiden casting an extremely wide net to see what she caught. Now that she was expecting them to try, now that she'd seen the portals for herself instead of surmising what they could and couldn't do from some file... There was no telling what kind of hell they'd be walking into if they tried again. With this Raven, they might even have ended up hand-delivering Ozpin another maiden.​
 




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"You're scared."

It wasn't a question. Generally if Yang didn't want to show someone she was scared (on those rare occasions the stars aligned and circumstances actually brought about such an occurrence), it didn't happen. She was too tough, too feisty, too much of a genuine badass in the face of even the worst odds to let her more compromising emotions show, especially to her enemies.

So it said all that needed to be said about this Weiss's powers of observation, about the sheer analytic brilliance contained behind the glacial blue eyes that had been narrowing millimeter by millimeter ever since Yang started talking, that she cut right through every front and barrier the huntress had to speak those two words aloud with deadpan conviction, spiked by a knowing, patronizing tone that left little room for argument. Something about the way this Weiss's eyes lingered on a person felt exposing. As though her true semblance was the gift of simple, elevated clarity, an affinity for staring right through all the layers of clothing, skin, and the facades people liked to wear to strip bare the core of a person's motives underneath it. The human mind wasn't so terribly complex. Typically you could draw a simple, straight line between people's actions and whatever spark of emotion drove them to undertake them, and once you made that connection... humans became easy. Predictable. Child's play, really.

Being held in a gaze so keenly understanding of exactly where you were coming from could be reassuring, in a strange way. Validating. It had done wonders for her rapid climb up the corporate ladder.

It could also make you feel like you were naked, strapped down to a lab table and scheduled for dissection. Yang had to decide for herself where it was on that spectrum she fell as Weiss made her way around to take a seat on the bed, gracefully alighting close enough to start fiddling with the huntress's blankets so they were distributed a bit more neatly.

"Commendable job trying to hide it, but I know a terrified little girl feigning a stiff upper lip when I see one. Believe me, I know."

There was something almost maternal about the way she plucked a few locks of Yang's hair from her shoulder, finally offering the blonde a reprieve from the incising, soul-reaching stare as she curled the locks around thumb and forefinger. No mind was paid to the faculty as they milled around making preparations for the anaesthesia, one taking Yang's arm and going about the process of inserting the needle.

"It's why you don't get it. It's why you can't, and why I don't expect you to. You lack the discipline to understand that this is the way forward; you just don't have the perspective. How could you? You're still listening to everything this tells you." She gave her a light prod in the chest, fingertip picking out where the heart was, and exhaled in wry, earnest amusement. "Thanks for the advice. In return I'd like to offer you some of my own, and if you take so much as a word of it on board this whole 'life' thing is going to start seeming far more sensible. It's not something they teach you in huntress school. Ready?"

Her smirk was relaxed, coy, and strangely benevolent, considering the content of her next words.

"The world is cruel. I'm sorry, play optimist all you like, but it's true. People do awful things to one another in the name of getting ahead, and history has shown it time and time again. The data's all there. These four kingdoms you have so much faith in? Built on a foundation of exploitation and blood. The men and women who founded them? No different to Ozpin. He's just less subtle about being a monster."

She stood up, letting Yang's hair and the hand playing with it drop as she made her way over to the bedside window, glare cold, distant, and fixated on the city the ship was orbiting; along with the reflection staring back at her.

"And now here we stand. The world is on the brink of disaster, and the blame falls squarely on the failure of those in power. Their inability to form a unified front, one capable of defending against an enemy of Ozpin's magnitude. Your Salems, your Ironwoods. Their insistence on running this conflict from the shadows practically handed Ozpin the keys to victory. Why, you ask?"

Yang probably didn't, but Weiss was definitely going to tell her anyway.

"Because they just can't keep their petty, little, emotions out of it. Salem's guilt. Ironwood's paranoia. Lionheart's cowardice. These are the people we're meant to entrust our futures to? I suppose it's not entirely their fault; they simply aren't up to the task. But they should never have taken the responsibility on their shoulders to begin with. You know what they are? Relics. Bygone artifacts from another time, exercising total control over a society that can't flourish under their leadership anymore. They can't save the world."

Even by Yang's lofty standards, the level of sheer committed resolve in the next words were like something forged in the heat of a sun, yet tempered by a deep, icy smugness, a frigid self belief that could've converted that sun to an icy ball in mere moments. She glanced back over, radiating an overwhelming air of satisfaction in herself as she smiled charitably, giving a primping flick of her ponytail.

"I can."

The sharp, pinching sting of the needle going in somehow only added to the emphatic quality to those words, the physicians preparing the tube though no sedative flowed through it yet. Weiss's eyes had shifted to the horizon, the scope of her ambition going far beyond just Atlas.

"It's what my entire life has been preparing me for. You might think I'm underestimating Ozpin, but I see him for exactly what he is. Another angry man with a lot of reach who thinks he has me under his thumb. Frankly, your lack of faith in my ability to deal with him is a little insulting. If the Weiss Schnee you knew bore even a passing resemblance to me, then is it really so hard to believe this threat is one I was born to face? That it might be my destiny?" The cigarette she produced from her pocket was lit with an icy blue flame projected from her fingertip, Weiss ignoring if not outright oblivious to the glares of the medical staff as she leaned her shoulder against the wall with aplomb. "He may well be mankind's most dangerous enemy, but he's nothing new to me in far more ways than I care to describe. He's simply the top rung in a ladder of enemies I've been ascending ever since I was a girl—One I'm not finished climbing yet. As I said, our alliance has been beneficial, and right now he's still a toy. A resource I'm using to consolidate power and relieve the board of some unnecessary pieces. But there comes a time when all toys must be discarded."

She exhaled a cloud of smoke as her eyes flashed luminescent blue, and it was unclear whether it was a trick of the light or not.

"Or, they break. What emerges from the ashes of that conflict is a new paradigm. One where every corner of every kingdom is presided over by someone with enough mastery over themselves to be worthy of the responsibility. Someone uninhibited by the burden of feelings, a heart made of stone and a mind sharp enough to determine what's right and fair for everybody. A leader completely devoid of petty concepts like anger, hate, and prejudice. Something new. You know what that sounds like to me?"

She chuckled, already halfway done with the cigarette, burning through it at a rate only people who had learned to live with the highest possible levels of stress the human body was capable of sustaining could relate to.

"The beginning of a less cruel world. So here's the advice. When you wake up, think about everything I just told you. Think about the cycle of self-destruction and negligence humanity's been putting itself through for centuries, how it stands on the precipice of being wiped out by Grimm yet again. And if you really don't know how to get home, think about carving out a nice, quiet life for yourself somewhere and staying out of the affairs of a world that doesn't belong to you. Because this world?"

As Yang felt the anaesthesia start to flow and consciousness rapidly start draining away, the eyes that beheld her were rife with that same, incisive coldness, and the words that heralded her descent into blackness sounded further and further away even with the low note of warning they carried.

"This world is mine."

Yang had a lot of feelings about all of that, and in the clarity that only surgery level anesthetics could provide she realized the perfect response as her brain slowly turned off of its own accord.

"Yer'so silly weissy.....zzz"
 

“Explain.” She seemed to acknowledge his words in full, keeping it absolutely brief, the very definition of bare minimum.​
"We have it. You were about to not have it." He said concisely himself. He felt marginally more sure that no one could hear him on this call given the roar of the engine along with the setup he'd created, but when murder grandpa was on the prowl it paid to be extra cautious, clearly.

"So we acted. If Carnelian really does intend to go back to Atlas, then the safest place for it to be is not en route there. We'll continue on with what we were supposed to do in the first place, and you can go about your own task. Simple enough?"
 
His sister was crying. No matter how much he might've felt a few tears were warranted after all the suffering and pain she'd caused over the years, it was still a sight that went against his every protective urge and instinct. It took a few moments of hesitance, but with a slow, unsure awkwardness to his movements he crouched down and put a hand on her shoulder.

"...I... I'm sorry, Raven. I know. Believe me... I do."

She didn’t say anything back to him when he told her that, didn’t even lift her head an inch to look his way. But the amount of tears that hit the ground did lessen, the sounds of the depressed sobbing getting noticeably quieter...it was clear she was listening. It was about the only thing she could bring herself to do at that particular moment.​

He closed his eyes. "...You ever get a feeling like the two of us are cursed? I don't know if it's me, or Oz's magic, or maybe just some... hereditary thing. But I'm not sure we can ever be happy. Either of us. Something... something in the old Branwen bloodline is just... busted. The one thing, the only thing that keeps me going these days is my family. Knowing they're safe."

If her mood hadn’t already been shot to pieces, absolutely broken by the harsh words that clawed out a truth she desperately wanted to deny, to bury so deep nobody could ever have gotten...if not for that, those words would have definitely cast a gloomy shadow over her. Being destined to never have real, lasting joy. To have it encoded in your soul that happiness was something forever out of reach, no matter how hard you pushed for it. That was the embodiment of depressing, right there.​

He opened them again, and averted them to avoid whatever scorn, mockery or derision Raven's might've met them with after this next part. He just had to say it.

"That's always gonna include you."

“........It shouldn’t.” Contrary to what he might have expected, when she raised her head to look his way? Though he couldn’t see it with his gaze averted, there was no hint of any scorn or mockery or anything like that.

Only pain.

For a few seconds she struggled, unsure if she could continue or even if she should...but it wasn’t like he could see her in any worse, more pathetic light than she already was in. Raven swallowed that uncertainty and continued on. “I...I don’t know where you popped up in this world, this strange damn place...but I...” It was her turn to look away. “It was Tai’s place. On Patch. Except...it wasn’t. Not really. Not anymore. It was just a broken mess, a shattered gray ruin, lost and abandoned with grimm poking about. I only realized it when...”

Her hand moved to withdraw something and she flung it over onto the ground in his direction. It was a picture. The picture. A once united group, a team in every sense of the word. A dream of something that could never be again.

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“I don’t know what the other me that you and Yang are...” She couldn’t bring herself to finish that sentence. “I don’t know what she might have told you. I don’t know what happened in this alien world. But me?”

She pointed a finger at the picture. “I destroyed that.” It was absolutely agonizing to admit it, something she never in a million years would have even considered doing if she didn’t feel as broken as she did right now. “Family? I shouldn’t be counted among that number, Qrow. You know that as much as I do.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t even tell you about waking up in that ruin until this moment. I could have, easily, back at that faunus’s home. But I didn’t. I kept it from you.”

"...Just tell me she's safe. You have a way of knowing, right? It's how you bailed her out before. Tell me she's not in immediate trouble, or... or pain."

Another portal rescue was off the table anyway. The first attempt let Weiss and her mad dog wreak absolute carnage on them, and that was just a result of the maiden casting an extremely wide net to see what she caught. Now that she was expecting them to try, now that she'd seen the portals for herself instead of surmising what they could and couldn't do from some file... There was no telling what kind of hell they'd be walking into if they tried again. With this Raven, they might even have ended up hand-delivering Ozpin another maiden.

She took the excuse to turn away wholeheartedly, head angling over to peer into the distant horizon as if she could physically see something he could not.

“They’re...putting her under. Anesthesia.”

With that she lowered her head again to wait for the sounds of wings flapping or a thud as he dropped from the building to signify that he was leaving.​
 
"We have it. You were about to not have it." He said concisely himself. He felt marginally more sure that no one could hear him on this call given the roar of the engine along with the setup he'd created, but when murder grandpa was on the prowl it paid to be extra cautious, clearly.

"So we acted. If Carnelian really does intend to go back to Atlas, then the safest place for it to be is not en route there. We'll continue on with what we were supposed to do in the first place, and you can go about your own task. Simple enough?"

“...Well done.” Raven replied. That was simple enough for her. They had accomplished what she and the others could not have. Perhaps she had been wrong when she believed they needed an adult, a professional, to watch over them. It made sense too, didn’t want to risk Carnelian or any other foes having a chance at snatching it away. “Just be careful.”
 
“........It shouldn’t.” Contrary to what he might have expected, when she raised her head to look his way? Though he couldn’t see it with his gaze averted, there was no hint of any scorn or mockery or anything like that.

Only pain.

For a few seconds she struggled, unsure if she could continue or even if she should...but it wasn’t like he could see her in any worse, more pathetic light than she already was in. Raven swallowed that uncertainty and continued on. “I...I don’t know where you popped up in this world, this strange damn place...but I...” It was her turn to look away. “It was Tai’s place. On Patch. Except...it wasn’t. Not really. Not anymore. It was just a broken mess, a shattered gray ruin, lost and abandoned with grimm poking about. I only realized it when...”

Her hand moved to withdraw something and she flung it over onto the ground in his direction. It was a picture. The picture. A once united group, a team in every sense of the word. A dream of something that could never be again.

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There was a melancholy too visceral for words tugging on Qrow's expression when he turned his head to regard the picture, a wistful, soul-weary longing for days past that flickered away almost as soon as it appeared. He turned his back again, unable to look at it any longer, shoulders hunched and body wracked with a deep-rooted emotional pain.

"...That picture makes us look like such assholes..."

Summer and Tai were fine, but Raven looked like someone's goth girlfriend and as for him... what was with that pose? He looked like something out of the character creator in an RPG. Despite everything, the admission came with a dark, throaty chuckle, some core part of Qrow perhaps instinctively trying to lift his twin's spirits even now as he scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

"It's weird that you ended up there... rest of us came to at the battle for Beacon."

That seemed almost targeted, like there was actually some kind of rhythm or plan to all this. Now there was a reassuring thought.

“I don’t know what the other me that you and Yang are...” She couldn’t bring herself to finish that sentence. “I don’t know what she might have told you. I don’t know what happened in this alien world. But me?”

She pointed a finger at the picture. “I destroyed that.” It was absolutely agonizing to admit it, something she never in a million years would have even considered doing if she didn’t feel as broken as she did right now. “Family? I shouldn’t be counted among that number, Qrow. You know that as much as I do.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t even tell you about waking up in that ruin until this moment. I could have, easily, back at that faunus’s home. But I didn’t. I kept it from you.”

"...It was a lot more than just that." He eventually grunted, like it pained him to do so. The last thing he wanted to do was start justifying any of Raven's actions over the years. He didn't even really know why he was bothering trying to make her feel better, why he was still talking to her at all. But...

"There was more happening there than what you did. Plenty of blame to be passed around and more than a few bad decisions. You might've been the most selfish about it, but me, Tai... let's just say we both let people down."

No mention went towards the last remaining member. He just didn't feel like it was the time to talk about her right now.

"Look, you don't have to convince me that you're pretty much the worst sister to ever live. I wasn't always the best brother either, or uncle, or friend. We all made our choices. Don't expect me to say the L-word any time soon, but you'll always matter to me, even if it ain't mutual. I don't get a say in that. Neither do you. I know you still care, Raven. Somewhere deep down, in a part of you you must've forgot about. Long as that stands, I think... I know you can be better some day. I see it in the you who's fighting the fight here. You're not that different."

He shook his head, leaving it there. This conversation was getting too surreal, and his head was already swimming from about a million other things.

She took the excuse to turn away wholeheartedly, head angling over to peer into the distant horizon as if she could physically see something he could not.

“They’re...putting her under. Anesthesia.”

With that she lowered her head again to wait for the sounds of wings flapping or a thud as he dropped from the building to signify that he was leaving.

"..."

It didn't come, though a frustrated hiss at the revelation and subsequent brooding period most definitely did. What the hell were they doing to her?

"So where will you go? It's stupid to just split off. I really am admitting I was wrong about that. We all have people depending on us to get back to, even if yours are just a bunch of killers and thieves."
 
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a deep-rooted emotional pain.

"...That picture makes us look like such assholes..."

Summer and Tai were fine, but Raven looked like someone's goth girlfriend and as for him... what was with that pose? He looked like something out of the character creator in an RPG. Despite everything, the admission came with a dark, throaty chuckle, some core part of Qrow perhaps instinctively trying to lift his twin's spirits even now as he scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

“That’s who we are though. You and me...even on a backwards world, we’re the assholes that survive. Summer and Tai can end up on the chopping block but not us. All we do is trade out who’s who, as far as I saw.” She let out a bitter sounding noise that was close to a laugh but not quite. Her still being the huntress trying to do some good and him being the one who went back to the bandits, it still seemed a laughable idea even though she’d seen it personally during the battle up at Haven.​

"It's weird that you ended up there... rest of us came to at the battle for Beacon."

That seemed almost targeted, like there was actually some kind of rhythm or plan to all this. Now there was a reassuring thought.

“I suppose it was.” She really couldn’t say with certainty. She still didn’t know what had brought them here in the first place, only what it took to send them back.​

"...It was a lot more than just that." He eventually grunted, like it pained him to do so. The last thing he wanted to do was start justifying any of Raven's actions over the years. He didn't even really know why he was bothering trying to make her feel better, why he was still talking to her at all. But...

"There was more happening there than what you did. Plenty of blame to be passed around and more than a few bad decisions. You might've been the most selfish about it, but me, Tai... let's just say we both let people down."

“Stop.” She shook her head. “You don’t have to say or do anything to try and improve my spirits. Don’t even deny that’s what you’re trying.” She sighed. “I’m not asking you to.”

"Look, you don't have to convince me that you're pretty much the worst sister to ever live. I wasn't always the best brother either, or uncle, or friend. We all made our choices. Don't expect me to say the L-word any time soon, but you'll always matter to me, even if it ain't mutual. I don't get a say in that. Neither do you. I know you still care, Raven. Somewhere deep down, in a part of you you must've forgot about. Long as that stands, I think... I know you can be better some day. I see it in the you who's fighting the fight here. You're not that different."

“...and people call you too cynical.” She shook her head again. It was Qrow’s mouth moving but it sounded like Summer’s words coming out. Or perhaps even her daughter’s. “You saw them as clearly as I did, brother. This other you, would you say there’s a long buried better nature to him somewhere in there?” She didn’t even give him much time to answer. “If you do think so, you should get your eyes checked. He’s not you...and that also means she isn’t me.” Raven stated with finality as she too left it there.​

"So where will you go? It's stupid to just split off. I really am admitting I was wrong about that. We all have people depending on us to get back to, even if yours are just a bunch of killers and thieves."

“I don’t know.” She repeated for the umpteenth time. “You don’t need two Ravens. Not now, not with the relic already retrieved. And you’re wrong on more than just that. I’m...not their leader any longer.” They respected strength above all else, but with the news they’d heard from Haven, the fact that Haven was still standing and more than that, that neither Raven or Vernal had returned, with or without a relic...they had come to the conclusion that the pair hadn’t been strong enough to win. That they both probably died. A notion that Raven had not been eager to rid them of. Better to be thought dead than go back with no relic and no Vernal. Looking that weak...

“I came to you to get us back not because anyone’s depending on me but because...home’s just home. We don’t belong on this world.” Even if she didn’t know what her place was on her own world anymore, she knew she belonged on that Remnant.​
 
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“I don’t know.” She repeated for the umpteenth time. “You don’t need two Ravens. Not now, not with the relic already retrieved. And you’re wrong on more than just that. I’m...not their leader any longer.” They respected strength above all else, but with the news they’d heard from Haven, the fact that Haven was still standing and more than that, that neither Raven or Vernal had returned, with or without a relic...they had come to the conclusion that the pair hadn’t been strong enough to win. That they both probably died. A notion that Raven had not been eager to rid them of. Better to be thought dead than go back with no relic and no Vernal. Looking that weak...

“I came to you to get us back not because anyone’s depending on me but because...home’s just home. We don’t belong on this world.”

"You don't have to tell me."
He returned with a bitter sigh, already annoyed by her contrariness. "What we still need is a Spring Maiden who's on our side. Bandit lady turned tail and ran. She took Fall with her. That plus Weiss being Winter leaves the scorecard at one-nothing in terms of ancient magical firepower, and that's assuming Vernal doesn't go crawling back to Ozpin on hands and knees with her prisoner, which she very well might. And don't act like you have the manpower to achieve anything on your own."

He kept his eyes focused on the rooftops over towards where Tock's place was, the rest of team Atlas presumably starting to reconvene there.

"So quit feeling sorry for yourself and c'mon. I have to go tell Ruby her sister was captured."
 

"You don't have to tell me." He returned with a bitter sigh, already annoyed by her contrariness. "What we still need is a Spring Maiden who's on our side. Bandit lady turned tail and ran. She took Fall with her. That plus Weiss being Winter leaves the scorecard at one-nothing in terms of ancient magical firepower, and that's assuming Vernal doesn't go crawling back to Ozpin on hands and knees with her prisoner, which she very well might. And don't act like you have the manpower to achieve anything on your own."

He kept his eyes focused on the rooftops over towards where Tock's place was, the rest of team Atlas presumably starting to reconvene there.

"So quit feeling sorry for yourself and c'mon. I have to go tell Ruby her sister was captured."

“.......................”

She didn’t say anything further after that...but she did get back to her feet and stand after a few moments. After everything she just said, everything she’d put on the table after he had demolished her stoic indifferent facade so completely...as hard as it felt to stand up again, it didn’t compare at all to any of that.​
 
“.......................”

She didn’t say anything further after that...but she did get back to her feet and stand after a few moments. After everything she just said, everything she’d put on the table after he had demolished her stoic indifferent facade so completely...as hard as it felt to stand up again, it didn’t compare at all to any of that.​

Yang became the Spring Maiden as Raven died from that slaughter
 
I’m still so lost, what the hell was ALL that? Who was that guy, how is that other Faunus still walking around after being cut to ribbons like too many times, what EVEN is going on anymore???? Ilia was still standing where she’d been when the wall had EXPLODED. Trying to talk to Eve had been much less confusing...she hoped the bull was doing alright. To the extent that she could be, anyway. Or at least better than the chameleon felt right now as she tried to make sense of everything.​
 


Tyrian stirred occasionally but otherwise it seemed like he'd be out the whole trip. After what his friends and him had just been through, could you really blame him?

Peaceful as his face at rest may have been however, the dreams he had were anything but.

Picture a black void with Tyrian standing in the center and a shining light radiating down on him from above. The voices were back and they weren't too happy with his performance. Against Valkyrie, against Qrow, against Carneilan. One disappointment after another. It was absolutely, utterly, disgraceful.

'How could you be so pathetic??' 'If Watts hadn't saved you, you'd be dead.' 'Maybe he should have slit your throat and spared yourself some time. You know you'd only do it yourself if he hadn't.' 'We don't know what happened to Valkyrie and Qrow was defeated, knocked out by hands other than yours. How does that make you feel?'

Tyrian stood in the center but not the budding huntsman. Rather the frightened child who seemed nervous to even take a human's hand let alone their kindness. His clothes were ragged and his hair an unkempt mess that masked away his eyes it was so long and unruly. His hands covered in calluses and cuts from a hard day's work in the mines. He whimpered as the voices berated him. He'd thought they had no right. They were just as scared as he'd been. They left him all alone until Watts came to get him.

"I...I am weak."

'Excess. Baggage.' 'What was it that red haired witch told you?' 'Ah, yes. You're little more thaan a puppydog looking desperately for it's owner. You plan on fighting her? Avenging Ichabod?' The voices all laughed in unison as Tyrian fell to his knees.

"What am I supposed to do?! *sob*"

'You're such a waste of a student.' 'To think he vested so much in you.' 'He'd be so disappointed in you...'

That last one hit harder than Tyrian could have ever expected. They were right again. How could he ever hope to challenge Ichabod's killer when he in his heart of hearts was still just the same scared little boy that Ichabod had 'rescued' from the mines. He could still remember the last time they talked....

~~~

"No! I don't want to stop coming here! So what!? I lost! Big deal, losing happens to-"

"Tyrian."


Ichabod rose from where he'd been sitting and pulled close the blinds to the window peeking into his office.

"What happened last night was a disaster. You should have won that fight. Easily."

"I-I know! I know....But he would-"

"-Would have had someone kill me. I know. I've known since yesterday. Beauregard is the one who hired him." Ichabod explained with his back still to Tyrian. The faunus looked absolutely terrible with a bandage over his left eye and some wrapped around his torso. "I offered to help your parents if they decided to make this public and sue your opponent. They refused and made me promise that you'd cease coming here and that I wouldn't abide any further contact with you. I agreed to these terms. It was the least I could do for all the harm being in my employ has caused you, my boy."

Tyrian didn't know what to think. His parents reaction was understandable, he'd gotten the talk from them after he woke up. His fighting days were over and once everything was healed up they'd have to work something out because Tyrian simply couldn't be trusted to stay in town. Too much potential for trouble and this and that. Tyrian didn't agree, he never agreed. Ichabod hadn't said it likely to spare Tyrian's feelings but he could only have imagined the things his parents called him.

'Monster' 'Beast' 'Bastard'

All things present day Tyrian could have applied to the good general.

"I asked them if I could see you one last time however. They were reluctant, very much so in fact, but they agreed. Despite their understandable feelings towards what you've been doing here and what goes on here in general, they said that you seemed 'fond' of me. It'd only hurt you if they dragged you away without a chance to say goodbye..."

Ichabod slowly turned to face Tyrian. The boy was already crying.

He placed a hand on the faunus's shoulder and knelt down.

"Tyrian, there's no need to cry."

"T-The hell are you t-talking about?! I'm-I'm never gonna see you agaaaaaaaiaaaaaah!" Tyrian hugged Ichabod sobbing into his chest.

"You'll see me again, Tyrian." The faunus immediately pulled back his head in confusion. "W-What do you mean?! You said-"

"Aye. Your parents made me promise and I'm going to keep it. That doesn't mean it's the end. You've made an old man very proud, Tyrian. You and Trifa were some of the finest people I've ever met." The mention of the faunus that Ichabod had cared for before Tyrian left something of a melancholic taste in both their mouths. Tyrian lost what had felt like his only real rival and Ichabod lost the closest thing he'd ever ha to a daughter. "Nobody comes into this life knowing how many days they've got. I....Not all of mine have been good days, Tyrian. Some days I'd like to simply forget. But it's just not that easy, never is."

Ruffling the crying boy's hair, Ichabod continued.

"I'm no longer a young man, Tyrian. My bed has been made for years and I'll continue to sleep in it, no matter what may come. But, if even if just for a small time, I'm glad you were in my life. As long as you hang onto the memories, Tyrian. I'll never be gone."

"M-Mr ichabooood..."

"Tyrian, can you make an old man a promise of your own?"

"O-Of course.." Tyrian exclaimed wiping at his eyes.

"Wherever your parents send you, be it Beacon or any other academy, you take those weapons we built and you do your best, okay? Make friends..." Ichabod smiled but even now Tyrian could feel the pain behind it. "Living life by yourself is never the way, my boy."

"I promise..."

Ichabod clapped Tyrian on the back and grinned.

"Now, there we go! No more being sad now, Tyrian! Come....I'll buy you something to eat before you go home."

"Hahaha! Alright!"

~~~

Pleasant as their last conversation may have been, it was the last good memory that Tyrian had of Ichabod. Everything after that only served to depress him. He was constantly turned away without even a shred of kindness that he'd been shown as a fighter. He could understand why: Ichabod was a man of his word and as much as it may have pained him to constantly send Tyrian away/threaten to call security on him, he simply couldn't break a promise.

Didn't make it hurt any less.

Beauregard's attempt on Ichabod's life was known about among the ring's shareholders and was quietly swept under the rug. Ichabod released whatever fighters he still had employed and watched over them from a distance, giving financial aid when it was needed. All behind closed doors of course. For their sake if nothing else. In public Ichabod put on the front of a tired but kindly older man who was beyond his prime. He'd leave everything up to the younger generation to run things while he stayed on as a moderating force when needed. The others disliked his 'affection' for the fighters and he couldn't have been more proud of it.

The other shareholders didn't know whom Ichabod had been before founding the ring.

Having served in the war under Carneilan, Ichabod had seen his fair share of combat and...things perhaps better left unsaid.

He was by no means a spring chicken. Those days had long since passed. His leg having never healed right from his beatdown in his teenage years didn't exactly help. But for a 40-something year old, he still got by. Just a bit slower than everyone else.

....The assassin that Beauregard had hired was going to find out why Ichabod had been trusted to do what he did in the service.

Tracking him down had been easy and with his son's help, Ichabod made sure it wouldn't be traced back to them or him. No need to make a public spectacle of it after all. Beauregard would know and that was enough. The place was somewhat secluded which also helped. His sons were asked to stay a fair distance away. In case things got bad, he didn't need their faces being seen. This was something that he needed to do for himself.

Strolling up to the door, Ichabod gently rapped his hand upon it and waited.

The sounds of multiple lock latches being unturned and twisted filled the otherwise dead air. The man hired to kill Ichabod was by no means inexperienced in that line of work. Still, from what he'd been told he had just expected it to be a quick and easy job. Blow the old guy's brains out, make it look like a suicide, and rake in the profits.

The man he saw as he opened his door wasn't a feeble old geezer.

It was something far worse.



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"You're the young man who was hired to kill me, yes?"

His mouth agape, the assassin nodded.

'Hm. I'm disappointed."

The cane was dropped and Ichabod lunged forward and gripped the hitman by the neck lifting him off his feet. Strolling inside the home with a bit of a limp, he pulled the door shut behind him. Activating his semblance, the room began to grow hotter and hotter, little by little. "What the hell-How did you-I thought-"

"Not as quick as I used to be, I'm afraid. Age has certainly taken it's toll upon me. My leg never quite healed right from a boyhood incident either. The cane is something more of a mental handicap, you see. It helps me feel weaker than I am. I don't like hurting people. That life is behind me now..." Ichabod's grip grew tighter. "...Until every now and again, little vermin like you poke your head out of the refuse and hurt those close to me."

The hitman's aura shimmered as the heat was starting to grow quite uncomfortable.

"Starting to sweat, that's natural. Your aura will protect you from the worst of it for now. It'll break over time though as most things tend to do. Then you'll start to grow dizzy, maybe even a little nauseous. Your skin will start to boil and burn and it'll feel as though every nerve ending is screaming, even pleading for mercy. Your organs will find themselves cooked within the very juices in which they sit."

Ichabod lowered his head and grinned.

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"You'll stay awake during all of it too. Oh, you may go into shock and pass out. But if there's one thing I can guarantee you it's that you'll suffer. Every. Single. Second."

"P-Please! I-I didn't lay a finger on the kid!! I swear!!! Beauregard didn't tell me that he meant so much to you! if I'd known then-"

"Now hold on a moment, young man. I never said you hurt him physically. You did something far worse. You crushed his dreams."

The aura was starting to give way and the interior of the house was feeling like a sauna.

"I never told anyone, least of all that blubbering fool Beauregard my past so you shouldn't feel too bad. You were just misinformed and in doing so, you left my boy a crying mess. Do what you will to me, I've enough skeletons in my closet to fill a graveyard. But destroying a child's ambitions...? It's unforgivable. "

*sizzle*


"AAAAA-AAAAH!!"

"This semblance of mine...I call it 'Overheat.' Quite useful during the war. Survivors will at the very least need immediate medical care, skin grafts at worse."

That...That was where he recognized this bastard from. He wasn't a faunus but you'd have to be an idiot to not at least heard the stories of a 'man who's touch was so hot he could melt the flesh right off your bones.' and so much worse.

"Back in those days, you see, they called me.... 'The Burning.' "

The hitman was too consumed by pain to speak.

"The boy had a name by the by. I doubt Beauregard told you it but I'm curious. Do you know it...?"

Nothing but screams."

"His name..."

Nothing but wails.

"was..."

Horrible croaks.

"Tyrian."

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The remainder of the process was horrific and Ichabod's sons wanted no part in seeing it play out. They'd dispose of what remained of the corpse but as they watched Ichabod hobble out of the house with cane in hand, they noted the single tear running down his face.

He hated using his semblance to hurt others. When it had already taken so much from the few who didn't deserve it.

~~~

Tyrian never learned of what Ichabod had done and Ichabod would have preferred it stayed that way. Memories were to be left as they were, why taint them with horrific images? If the faunus could try to live his best life and meet others who'd grow to care about him as he had, that was enough for him.

If only Tyrian saw himself as worthy enough to step up to the figurative plate to do what needed to be done.

Still sitting the void, the voices had gone silent. Leaving him again to wallow in his misery.

Then...a single solitary voice chimed in and it froze Tyrian down to the soul.

"Everyone sees dreams as an escape. But that's just a lie..."

Tyrian looked over his shoulder and stared at the mutilated bodies of his friends and the blood dripping from the sword of their killer.

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"There is no escape. Never was, never..."

He raised his sword and Tyrian tried to rise but the scared little slave would never fight his way out of this.

"Will be."

The sword came down.

In real life, Tyrian squirmed and gently clutched on tighter to Emerald as he whimpered.

"I...i let everyone down....he was too scary....too scary...' The faunus murmured deep within the grip of his dream turned....

Nightmare.

 
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Ironwood cleared his throat into a metallic fist as he looked over the ones gathered across the truly uninhabitable remains of Tock's apartment. The troupe bound for Atlas, their prospects uncertain but each unified by the shared knowledge that they truly had no option. For the sake of the kingdoms, the good of everyone... They had to carry on. They were men and women to whom the world owed a great debt. He considered himself honored to be counted among their company.

"So. Our destination is Argus. The relay tower there will allow me to contact Mantle; we can assess the situation there and see if Winter can arrange an airship for us."

He kept it brief, his claim to the rank that let him make lengthy rallying speeches forfeited.

"The Limited departs at dawn, a few hours from now. I suggest you all get some rest and keep your heads down in the meantime. We were lucky not to draw too much attention, since it seems the incident at Haven has the city's authorities scrambling."

His countenance was grim as he spoke the words. Leonardo, a turncoat... it was yet another distressing turn of events. He was almost at capacity for those.

---

Some time later.

"-In other news, the rogue paramilitary element of faunus rights organization the White Fang has released a statement today announcing its dissolution. Their spokesman, whose identity is unknown at this time, indicated their illegal raids against multiple dust mining corporations were the result of former leader and known criminal Eve Taurus becoming increasingly prone to fits of violence and hysteria. He went on to declare their attention to return to Menagerie, as reports of the group's presence at the destruction of Mistral's CCT tower continue to-"


The elderly man sitting behind the ticket counter muted the broadcast as his hand finally found the remote he'd been searching all across the desk for, prompting an amused arch of the eyebrow from his sole customer as he waited to be served. Mistral's airship station was quiet this time of evening, with the attack on the city driving most its residents to seek shelter in their homes in any case. Nobody wanted to be traveling at a time like this, when negative emotions were rife and the Grimm were swarming.

"Sorry about that, mister. Seems like every day the news gets more horrifying. Too bad all this talk of war and conspiracy didn't wait a few more years to kick up so we could've died in peace."

The man chuckled, fishing around in his wallet for the appropriate amount for his ticket fare as the cashier went on to add glumly.

"Reckon there won't be many folk headed north for a while. Atlas closin' its borders, maniacs up at the school and all that. Not sure I'd risk flying at a time like this myself."

"Well, it's no skin off my nose."

450


"I'm headed south."
 
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Wherever Ruby was in the room, before long she found Qrow's hand touching her shoulder and a clouded expression meeting her as he looked her in the eye.

"Hey. We gotta talk."
 


Yang had no way of knowing how much time had passed when she came to her senses. The fact that she awoke on an atrociously soft mattress feeling about as rested as she ever had in her life clued her in that it had probably been some time, daylight trickling in through the curtains on the far end of the room. Which, incidentally, was definitely not the same room she blacked out in. Or the same ship. Or even a ship at all. The room was nice, the bed the kind exorbitant enough to have curtains of its own, but it was distinctly lacking in much in the way of color or personality.

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It was also bigger than like, the entire upstairs of her house.

Her minor bumps and scrapes were fully healed, her stump taken care of with no corners cut on proper dressing practices. She wasn't restrained in any way, and absolutely nothing about the room denoted it as any kind of a prison cell in a conventional sense; with the significant exception of her aura being absent, which meant there was obviously a dampening field in effect somewhere.​
 
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Ironwood cleared his throat into a metallic fist as he looked over the ones gathered across the truly uninhabitable remains of Tock's apartment. The troupe bound for Atlas, their prospects uncertain but each unified by the shared knowledge that they truly had no option. For the sake of the kingdoms, the good of everyone... They had to carry on. They were men and women to whom the world owed a great debt. He considered himself honored to be counted among their company.

"So. Our destination is Argus. The relay tower there will allow me to contact Mantle; we can assess the situation there and see if Winter can arrange an airship for us."

He kept it brief, his claim to the rank that let him make lengthy rallying speeches forfeited.

"The Limited departs at dawn, a few hours from now. I suggest you all get some rest and keep your heads down in the meantime. We were lucky not to draw too much attention, since it seems the incident at Haven has the city's authorities scrambling."

His countenance was grim as he spoke the words. Leonardo, a turncoat... it was yet another distressing turn of events. He was almost at capacity for those.

“Sorry about the mess.” She couldn’t help but sarcastically comment from where she stood, arms crossed over her chest. “And that sounds all well and good and all...“ Tock added a second later In regards to their travel plans and contacting Mantle. “...but I got a couple other things I need to do first. If ya need me when you’re over there, just send this one.“ She clapped Ray on the shoulder. The Faunus turned around after that, starting to stride off and picking up the duffel bag and scroll she’d dropped way earlier and had retrieved before coming back to her obliterated residence.

One Raven looked relieved for the chance to rest at last. The other...it was impossible to tell, given the helmet she kept on, her eyes still more red than normal and absolutely not wanting anyone to notice.​

Wherever Ruby was in the room, before long she found Qrow's hand touching her shoulder and a clouded expression meeting her as he looked her in the eye.

"Hey. We gotta talk."

“....About?”

—————

Ilia had, perhaps just by being in the vicinity of the ruined place, been able to join the several people gathered around. She recognized Ruby, of course, and to a lesser extent Qrow as both had gone with Blake and the rest on the Argus train back home. She knew Ironwood by reputation, naturally. But the rest she didn’t know.

Ruby was the closest one to her in age, but she couldn’t exactly approach the young huntress considering she was being pulled away by Qrow. And the only other one she had somewhat of a connection with was the faunus, even if she was a stranger. So it was that as soon as the other faunus began to walk away, the chameleon moved to follow.

“...Can I help ya, kid?”

“I don’t know...there’s a lot going on that I don’t get, but...I want to help however I can. I figured that maybe, I could come with you?” She pleaded extra hard with her eyes, changing the colors within to add to the effect.

“............” She sighed. “Fine.” She reluctantly allowed.​
 
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“...Well done.” Raven replied. That was simple enough for her. They had accomplished what she and the others could not have. Perhaps she had been wrong when she believed they needed an adult, a professional, to watch over them. It made sense too, didn’t want to risk Carnelian or any other foes having a chance at snatching it away. “Just be careful.”
"I know. And we will. I wish you luck in At-"

The edge of the range was hit, and the call cut off. Watts glanced down at the screen and gave a shrug before he swapped it back to the navigation app.

"...If everyone in this car still wishes to help with Cinder's rescue, then we might as well get started in that direction."

*thud*


"Though I might suggest we get another vehicle. Perhaps one built to seat at least four instead of two and a half." He added with a dry frown as Tyrian inadvertently kicked him in the back of his head as he went through those dreams.
 


Yang had no way of knowing how much time had passed when she came to her senses. The fact that she awoke on an atrociously soft mattress feeling about as rested as she ever had in her life clued her in that it had probably been some time, daylight trickling in through the curtains on the far end of the room. Which, incidentally, was definitely not the same room she blacked out in. Or the same ship. Or even a ship at all. The room was nice, the bed the kind exorbitant enough to have curtains of its own, but it was distinctly lacking in much in the way of color or personality.

latest


It was also bigger than like, the entire upstairs of her house.

Her minor bumps and scrapes were fully healed, her stump taken care of with no corners cut on proper dressing practices. She wasn't restrained in any way, and absolutely nothing about the room denoted it as any kind of a prison cell in a conventional sense; with the significant exception of her aura being absent, which meant there was obviously a dampening field in effect somewhere.​


The first time Yang 'woke up', it could barely be called taht. In the vague rumblings of consciousness that led up to that state, the bed was acknowledged, and she just snuggled herself deeper under the covers, buried her face in the pillows, and absolutely languished in the comfort of her current situation, absolutely guiltless in that decision. She'd had a miserable week, and sometimes you had to enjoy what little things you were allowed. She drifted back to sleep a while after, and only a few hours after that did she finally drift back into consciousness and slowly sit up with a wide mouth yawn and a stretch that curled all the way down to her toes.

Once the sleep was rubbed out of her eyes, she did a self check, giving herself a visual and tactile once over to see if just what that trip into medical dreamland had all been about was obvious in any way. Nothing apparent, she let out a low hum of discontent and shed the (way, way too comfortable) pajamas she'd been unwillingly loaned in favor of her own duds, got up, and promptly tried the door.
 
The first time Yang 'woke up', it could barely be called taht. In the vague rumblings of consciousness that led up to that state, the bed was acknowledged, and she just snuggled herself deeper under the covers, buried her face in the pillows, and absolutely languished in the comfort of her current situation, absolutely guiltless in that decision. She'd had a miserable week, and sometimes you had to enjoy what little things you were allowed. She drifted back to sleep a while after, and only a few hours after that did she finally drift back into consciousness and slowly sit up with a wide mouth yawn and a stretch that curled all the way down to her toes.

Once the sleep was rubbed out of her eyes, she did a self check, giving herself a visual and tactile once over to see if just what that trip into medical dreamland had all been about was obvious in any way. Nothing apparent, she let out a low hum of discontent and shed the (way, way too comfortable) pajamas she'd been unwillingly loaned in favor of her own duds, got up, and promptly tried the door.

It may have come as a surprise to her when the handle turned and the door's polished veneer swung open, putting up no resistance whatsoever. The hallway she stepped out into shared in the prior room's cold atmosphere, lit by blue dust sconces and an opulent chandelier that hung from a ceiling that, like everything else here, seemed unbecoming of a prison. It was almost too spacious, though Yang didn't feel so much as a whisper of any kind of breeze or draft on her skin.

Nor did she see anyone. Immaculate arched windows looked out over a courtyard larger than some parks, fenced in by trees on either side and a long, looooong driveway leading to something that finally would've looked at home in a detention facility in form of a high security gate, doubling as a barracks and checkpoint. She could vaguely see guards stationed in the gardens, like ants such was the distance they patrolled at, but as she traversed the corridors she didn't see any signs of life inside the building itself. Between that, the pallet of pale blues, greys and whites, and a total lack of any kind of noise save for her shoes on the marble floor, it felt every bit like she'd died and woken up in purgatory.

Perhaps the most credible indicator of which was the fact that four corridors later she still couldn't feel her aura coming back.

If she did try other doors rather than prioritizing an exit, most were either locked or led to empty storage and utility rooms. The pattern was getting to be frustrating by the time she emerged onto the balcony of a multi-tiered room overlooking a white piano, adjacent via a series of archways to the longest hallway she'd seen so far. This one's walls were proliferated by a series of paintings of glaciers and tundras and the like; The one hanging at the corridor's center broke that trend, being the most well painted but deeply cursed family portrait Yang had ever seen. Unless she could think of any other particularly strong contenders off the top of her head.

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The door across from it was ajar, crack just wide enough to make out a study that broke from the rest of the house's arctic decor with its dark oak floor and walls. It was the only room among the house's numerous that looked genuinely comfortable, bookshelves fully stocked, and the room at large was decorated with numerous dust-based artifacts and ornaments that matched well with all the awards, deeds, and distinctions that hung from the walls. Their recipient sat at the desk towards the far end, Weiss framed by a portrait of her knight summon and scribbling something down on a ledger in cursive with chin resting daintily on her knuckle.

“....About?”

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"...It's about Yang..." He started off heavily, never one to be the most tactful or delicate about breaking bad news. He favored the quick and honest approach. Always had.

"She's okay, we're pretty sure." His eyes flickered guiltily towards his less agreeable of sisters. "But Weiss... has her."

Thinking about what kind of inhumane treatment that egomaniac might've had in store for her made him grit his teeth.​
 
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