Fandom Distorted Mirror [IC]

[Gus Gungus]

"What? Expected a different reaction to insulting my life's calling?"

Not to mention the thing she crafted her entire identity around, the vocation that helped her finally break away from the oppressive smog keeping her tethered to that despicable mansion that had ruined her youth.

They were all bearing witness to what the alternative was like firsthand. She didn't say anything else, face locked back in a rigid glower as she waited in silence for the mission to begin.​

 

[MyrtenRose]

"What? Expected a different reaction to insulting my life's calling?"

Not to mention the thing she crafted her entire identity around, the vocation that helped her finally break away from the oppressive smog keeping her tethered to that despicable mansion that had ruined her youth.

They were all bearing witness to what the alternative was like firsthand. She didn't say anything else, face locked back in a rigid glower as she waited in silence for the mission to begin.​

She held up both hands placatingly. “In my defense, I didn’t intend any insult to your life calling.” At least not at this time. Though she fell silent herself after that, both to give time for the suddenly tense situation to settle as well as wait for this scouting expedition to start, her eyes moving from Winter to look over at the younger pair of Ruby and Nora.

Hmm. Volts, on a scouting run? That didn’t seem quite a solid choice, the girl wasn’t exactly subtle...but Robyn kept that thought to herself.​

 

[Gus Gungus]

She held up both hands placatingly. “In my defense, I didn’t intend any insult to your life calling.” At least not at this time. Though she fell silent herself after that, both to give time for the suddenly tense situation to settle as well as wait for this scouting expedition to start, her eyes moving from Winter to look over at the younger pair of Ruby and Nora.

Hmm. Volts, on a scouting run? That didn’t seem quite a solid choice, the girl wasn’t exactly subtle...but Robyn kept that thought to herself.

"Then choose your words more carefully," was all she bit back with before falling silent. For real this time.​

 

[MyrtenRose]

"Then choose your words more carefully," was all she bit back with before falling silent. For real this time.​

“If you insist, Frosty. Should we hug it out?” She couldn’t help but snark as she side-eyed Winter.​

 

[Gus Gungus]

“If you insist, Frosty. Should we hug it out?” She couldn’t help but snark as she side-eyed Winter.

"Do you ever shut up?"​

 

[MyrtenRose]

"Do you ever shut up?"​

“I’ll take that as a no.” She remarked, every bit as sarcastic as what she had just said seconds before. “You know you could lighten up a little. It wouldn’t kill you. Promise. And only when I choose to.” Robyn answered sincerely, and judging by the several steps she took to put some more distance between them, it seemed now was such a chosen time. Far be it from her to continue intruding on Winter’s brooding.
​

 

[Indolent]

Someone is in dire need of hugs... only if the best hugger this side of reality was there.

 

[MidwayLives]

"Face got fucked up real bad. Burned. This sucker helps me breathe."

Grey didn't give an apology or anything like that. He doubted a person like this wanted any pity. Least of all when they seemed to be pretty candid about the whole thing. It did make his reasoning for his outfit feel a bit more comical though.
​

"You?"

"It's..."

Hm, come to think of it not too many people had asked him why he wore this. He tended to assume that people thought he just wore this in his day to day job. Which he DIDN'T.

Not on Mondays anyway.

"I wear it to hide who I am. I'm standing alongside figures of such renown like Ironwood and..." He gestured over to Winter.

"I just felt as though a mousy reporter wouldn't have stood out as much. I'd have felt like I'd be seen as just a kid trying to play with the big boys. So I invented the costume. Lets me step away from being 'Grey' for a second and into just a member of the Resistance, willing to do what I need to."

​

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

Apparently, those had been literal terms. The Weiss who answered the door cut quite a different figure to the one who made all the public appearances and speeches and grand assurances; her hair actually was down, and in her simple nightgown + slipper presentation looked almost frail in contrast to the elegant and height enhancing attires she donned for her work. Apparently while in the sanctity of her own home she was more willing to depend on her natural confidence and regality to assert herself, an authority that shined through her diminutive stature even despite her immediately being thrown by the tiny four-legged ball of fur that sprang past her efforts to block him with her foot and ran yowling off into the evening, for no other reason than to be chaotic. "ZWEI!"

Well, one of her security team would coral him eventually. She huffed, rolling her eyes as she refocused her attention on her two guests. Ector himself got little more than a cursory nod, but his less familiar assistant drew a longer, more dissecting stare as the councilwoman looked her up and down with a wordlessly piercing skepticism, taking careful note of any ways her professional demeanor might have shifted under the weight of it (if at all).

"...Colonel Ector. I don't believe I've had the pleasure of knowing your associate."

Her tone was scrutinizing, incisive as she waited for the proper introductions to be made. She raised the glass in her hand discerningly to her lips, downing the last of the clear, fragrant liquid within. Her wine stock had obviously taken something of a hit a few nights ago, but she'd been able to find a few bottles of her mother's gin lying around to fall back on.

Frankly, she never much saw the appeal. It tasted like flowers and depression.

Apparently satisfied enough by whatever answer she received to accept the unexpected intrusion for now, she stepped to one side and beckoned them both in with a tilt of her head.

"We'll proceed to my study. You're both more than welcome to a glass of something there, if you'd like."

"Councilwoman Schnee. This is my adjutant, Liza Krane," The colonel opened, turning with a gesture of the right hand towards Liza, his tone at ease in contrast to the severe, fleeting atmosphere that formed momentarily, "She is my long-time bodyguard and an extension of my office. I deemed it appropriate that she be introduced as she has talents you might deem useful, should you need them." His phrasing was delicate but the tone underpinning these words spoke more than the officer let on, speaking to a cherished friendship between the two, born of unflinching loyalty and respect.

There was a minute shift in his expression, a subtle appreciation of Miss Schnee allowing the intrusion, before Ector proffered another nod and entered through the door way in a stride, stepping forth into the wide foyer of mute white and blues that received them. He had no intention of taking the lead from Miss Schnee, simply content to be removed and allow her to do so and it was with an easy shake of the head he declined her offer.

In almost any other situation, Weiss' potent, dissecting stare wouldn't have gotten anything but stoic professionalism out of Liza. Regardless of how intimidated or not she may have been, she'd have some serious failings as a body guard if she cracked or even sweat under the threat of a gun to her head, let alone a politician's glare. Yet when Zwei came tearing through like hurricane, Weiss caught it; most even slightly less observant wouldn't have. There was the smallest upward twitch of her lips, and though firm and deferential in tone there was an undercurrent to her words as she spoke after the colonel, a quick salute as she stared directly ahead rather than meeting Weiss' eyes.

"It's an honor, madam councilwoman. One of those talents includes canine obedience training, should you ever require it."

There was a minute shift in his expression, a subtle appreciation of Miss Schnee allowing the intrusion, before Ector proffered another nod and entered through the door way in a stride, stepping forth into the wide foyer of mute white and blues that received them. He had no intention of taking the lead from Miss Schnee, simply content to be removed and allow her to do so and it was with an easy shake of the head he declined her offer.

"No, thank you Councilwoman." His demeanor was brimming with patience, belying the burgeoning curiosity he noted and nurtured the past few days. Whatever Liza's reply was now or then, the Colonel would have affixed a smile as they were led to the study. At her bidding, he would take his seat within the one room that seemed to stick out in stark contrast to the architecture of every other within the manor. Its floors were a dark wood instead of marbled tiles, the edges of the room rimmed with bookshelves replete naturally with texts of all manner. Even the furniture was of a similar inclination, their colors a solid black, with a glass coffee table set between the two, both atop a light-blue rug spanning the room. The councilwoman certainly had made note of the Colonel's notice and fleeting interest in this differentation, though he dared not to converse on it with pressing matters presumably being brought to bear.

"I must decline as well." Liza replied calmly. While her eyes roved the halls as they made their way to the study, there wasn't any judgement in them; a mere check of sightlines and security systems already in place. She took her position behind the colonel as he sat, arms crossed behind her back as she stood at ease and waited patiently for the meat of the conversation they'd come here to have.

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

Cinder briefly glanced at all the others in the group after that voice called out to them so suddenly. A mystery voice coming from somebody she hadn't noticed in the darkness, pfft no way that had been enough to make her jump up in surprise! No way, nuh-uh, definitely hadn't done that. She just made sure all the rest knew that just as certainly as she herself did, that glare that briefly shot to all them making it clear they absolutely had not seen the young Cinder jump up a good four or five inches after hearing that...and after that was done, the fall maiden was swift to step up in front of all the rest as she cleared her throat to answer the trench coated person with the hat.

"We thought we could help them and they could help us?" She offered the stranger, hoping this wasn't a ploy of some kind.​

The first site had been an underground, dilapidated transportation hub or it had been before it was set aflame by the military in a bid to curtail the resistance's access to vehicles. The second was no different from the third except it was a grosser affair, the plumbings destroyed to the extent of ensuring an overbearing dampness that spoke to the growth of mold with electrical shorts evident at junctions throughout that stood apart from the scorches that increasingly spoke to the army's propensity for immolating the undesirable. It was overall a depressing series of drudgery that was honestly better at home nowhere else but Mantle. It did, somehow, manage to add to the glumness that came naturally to one Emerald Sustrai who had no qualms emoting them. Gretchen would have fallen victim to the malaise that exuded from nearly everything were it not for her brother's immutable optimism that clashed with his intense reticence.

"I think I would literally die of depression if i lived here, how could anyone... these people deserve better and the resistance are trying to give them that." She'd say for the fifth time as they all entered the dust shop's premises. Yet another burnt out hole that looked to be nothing different from the past two except for the scarecrow figure propped against the backwall that Emerald immediately picked up, electing to say nothing but wait for their action. When the electronic voice vibrated out, Gretchen absolutely jumped side by side Cinder, with Brosel elevated a neat four inches off Gretchen's shoulder in the upward motion, landing with a soft flumph with a puzzled expression to his weasel face.

░I░ ░t░o░t░a░l░l░y░ ░s░a░w░ ░t░h░e░m░ ░b░u░t░ ░w░h░a░t░e░v░e░r░

Hazel, for his part, took a defensive step towards the figure, almost interposing himself between them and his companions, a furrowed frown speaking volumes. His mouth was about to open, his tone being diametrically opposed to his presentation in a bid for diplomacy before Emerald cut him off.

"Because we're Girl Scouts and we take selling cookies very seriously, we can't let the girls in Troop 8 beat us; we're here with an incredible deal, we'll sell you pallets to feed your friends at cost." Without missing a beat, Emerald thumbed over to Hazel, "He's not with us. So whattya say, wanna help our troop win best selling for the year?"



Emerald was quick to drop all pretenses however, "We need an in to Atlas and the resistance probably could use a bolstering of its ranks. Something of a quid pro quo scenario here, considering our semblances and a Maiden." Her words flowed as matter of fact, hinting at her knowledge that the entities within their ranks were more than likely aware of this motley band and their capabilities.

"For instance, this one could probably communicate with the rats and give you all the info you need on ground."

"... Hey... I don't take advantage of my friends like that... much..."

The figure may have been taking a moment to process their words, or it may have been sizing them up in preparation to strike them down; it was impossible to tell in their stillness. it was only after their response came that they finally moved.

"...I knew it!"

That movement was them bouncing on their toes with a complete and utter failure to contain their excitement.

"Oh, this fantastic! I've been-"

The bouncing stopped as suddenly as it came, the stillness overtaking them once again like a frozen curse.

"...Right! I'm sorry, I just got excited." the figure said to them(?), before they tilted their their head up ever so slightly, and a green glow suddenly pierced the darkness from behind their collar. when they finally spoke again, there was a trepidation that pierced even their modulated tone

"Neopolitan; Known associate of Roman Torchwick, Salem, and Cinder Fall of Remnant 1, and of Ozpin's forces in Remant 2. Body mass, facial structure, and chest size indicate that you are too old to be the Neopolitan native to Remnant 2. Are you all aware of this? And this Emerald as well-"

Whatever the tool they were using to make these concerningly accurate measurements swept over the green haired thief "-Also does not match previous body records for Emerald Sustrai of Remnant 2. Your presence in Remnant 2 was an unknown until now. Fascinating, but dangerous. Both of you are known criminals who actively work with Salem. Please, could you all explain this discrepency? Otherwise, I may be forced to respond with lethal force."

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

Mercury didn't seem like he had any more a solid picture of what was going on, very slowly and deliberately taking Lupin off his shoulder by the scruff of his neck and glaring into his soul with an intense look that instilled the type of feeling only a born assassin in extremely close proximity who was trying to figure out if you were responsible for one of the only important things in his life or not keeling over randomly could instill.

"Did you just fucking kill her?"




​

"...Uh..."

It only took one look to know that the question had the exact effect Mercury was going for; Lupin the fifteenth, fifty fourth of his name, hadn't gotten where he was in life by being a courageous man.

"...Yes. I can do that. You should let me go now."

Unfortunately he also didn't get where he was in life by being a particularly clever man.

"..."

"..."

So they were crime lords now. Yeah, sure. Whatever. Cool. They could roll with this.

Mistaken identity struck Emerald as a little weird, considering she always thought she was pretty distinct looking, but it wasn't dwelling too heavily on either of their minds as they shared a look that communicated so much with so little before moving like clockwork towards the bar, leaving Neo's corpse by the door and plopping Lupin into the third barstool in her place as they each took their own.

"Yeah, damn right I'm back. Back and yet I don't see you pouring me or any of my three friends a drink to celebrate yet. Why is that?"

"Yeah, why is that?"

"Yeah, answer him. Why is that? By the way, this guy's your new boss too. He's the son of Marcus Black." Emerald thumbed over to him, raising a hand to shield her lips in hushed tones like he was the talk of the town.

"It's supposed to be a secret."

"He tells everyone he meets now."

"No I don't."

"A'course, ma'am"

The reply was succinct and deferential, and she was already pouring a drink for Emerald by the time she sat down, somehow nailing exactly what she wanted in the first pour. She also poured a drink for the handcuffed Lupin's stool, who proceeded to give the woman an odd, bemused frown before he hesitantly began to reach for it, only to wheeze out in surprise as a whole ass Neo suddenly appeared in his lap with a thump and snatched it up instead. It was a remarkably colorful drink, all blues and pinks swirling together, and Neo seemed as absolutely fascinated by it as she wasn't by how the handcuffs were clearly digging into their quarry's legs from how he was wincing as his head snapped back and forth between the Neo on top of him and the corpse on the floor behind them, seemingly the only one not in on the joke.

It was also the first time she'd held an alcoholic drink in her hand; she wasn't so prudish as to have a problem with others drinking it, but before Haven she hadn't ever saw the appeal.

Which was probably why she guzzled it all in one go with an unfortunate ease for a newbie from how sweet the drink was, earning an odd look from the bartender before she cleared her throat, and there was an even deeper note of anxiety to her words than when she'd spoke to Emerald.

"Glad t'see you as well Miss Neo. New looks suits you, if I may be so bold Ma'am. Makes y'look younger."

Neo cocked her head to the side with a confused frown before her eyes flickered over to an abandoned basket of pretzel bites that she nimbly hooked with her umbrella's handle to pull over to them, deciding better than to try and do any guesswork and leaving the talking to the other too as she instead shot the woman a grateful thank you of a smile and popped the first one into her mouth.

It earned them a sigh of relief, and the bartender began remaking Neo's drink because this was apparently how today was going to go. "...So. We uh... we weren't sure what happened, as you know, so... me n' the boys n' gals tried to keep things runnin as best we could, made a decent amount n' all, but we ran into a problem couple days ago. Someone who wants a meetin with miss Malachite herself, and who ain't too keen on takin no for an answer. Honest up and down glad you're back misses, and its a pleasure Mr. Black, but I reckon that they'll be back tomorrow and they won't be too keen if we tell em' no again, and we're not too keen on them not bein too keen since its the uh..." She cleared her throat again.

"...The shadowfang, and all...."

 

[Indolent]

The figure may have been taking a moment to process their words, or it may have been sizing them up in preparation to strike them down; it was impossible to tell in their stillness. it was only after their response came that they finally moved.

"...I knew it!"

That movement was them bouncing on their toes with a complete and utter failure to contain their excitement.

"Oh, this fantastic! I've been-"

The bouncing stopped as suddenly as it came, the stillness overtaking them once again like a frozen curse.

"...Right! I'm sorry, I just got excited." the figure said to them(?), before they tilted their their head up ever so slightly, and a green glow suddenly pierced the darkness from behind their collar. when they finally spoke again, there was a trepidation that pierced even their modulated tone

The slant to her brows, the lopsided frown, the tilt of the head, and her left hand clasped her right elbow as the the forearm extended outward with the fingers splayed horizontally. All an exquisite illustration of apprehension from Emerald as she watched this weirdo react completely different from what she expected of a mysterious contact ostensibly working with the resistance.

"You're doing a terrible job of setting us at ease."

"Neopolitan; Known associate of Roman Torchwick, Salem, and Cinder Fall of Remnant 1, and of Ozpin's forces in Remant 2. Body mass, facial structure, and chest size indicate that you are too old to be the Neopolitan native to Remnant 2. Are you all aware of this? And this Emerald as well-"

She couldn't help but snort. The specificity in those words were unexpected, though the temporary betrayal of her stoicism dissipated as she digested the strange phrasing there. Remnant 1, 2? And the knowledge of whom was whom...

Who was this individual?

Whatever the tool they were using to make these concerningly accurate measurements swept over the green haired thief "-Also does not match previous body records for Emerald Sustrai of Remnant 2. Your presence in Remnant 2 was an unknown until now. Fascinating, but dangerous. Both of you are known criminals who actively work with Salem. Please, could you all explain this discrepency? Otherwise, I may be forced to respond with lethal force."

Emerald instinctively sidestepped, in a bid to avoid the green glare with no success as the stranger continued on, indirectly unveiling more of what she hadn't told the others, a detail specifically omitted that reduced the severity of her relationship to Cinder. If any one was keen for details as these, it was out now.

"Are you kidding me? I have to explain myself again for the second time? No, that's not how this is going to work. Who are you and how do you know these things?" Emerald spat her reply towards the figure, her scathing words tinged with heavy frustration towards this turn of events. Her demeanor was the opposite of disarmed, the telltale signs of the thief working through the fight or flight checklist in her mind as her hands instinctively flocked towards the holsters resting against her back, her posture decreasing in height as she entered a stance precipitously.

"Waaaaaaait." Gretchen interjected, her own tone shaky on the very concept of mustering finality to the singular world. "She's not a bad guy. Well, okay, by her own words, she is but she really wants to get home and has been working with us. She's even given us some crucial info." Gretchen very much elicited a scrutinizing glare from the thief, her crimson eyes insinuating terrible things coming her way for this transgression of speaking on her behalf. Hazel would have meandered closer to his sister who, without realizing it, had interposed herself further than he did. There was a fleeting gawp of realization on her face before she bit it back, shaking her head in a bid to refocus as she swerved out the way to diminish any indication of hostility on her part, on their part.

"Neo's working with Emerald, that's the general gist. It's almost like--"

"Shut. Up." Emerald snarled, quelling the next word to come out of Gretchen with the sharp reproach. A grunt of annoyance, beyond that even, was all she offered for the next minute, her crimson eyes flicking from Gretchen to the stranger for now in consideration. A decision made corporealized in her doffing the stance, reaching her full height once again with both hands extended to the side. "Neo is working with me towards the same goal. I can't speak to her motives and I won't. I honestly don't care what happens here on Remnant 2 or whatever... it's a matter of getting home."

She leveled a stare back onto the twins and Cinder briefly, before sighing and returning her focus, anxiously awaiting the overall outcome of what was slowly becoming a fiasco in her mind.

 

[Gus Gungus]

"Councilwoman Schnee. This is my adjutant, Liza Krane," The colonel opened, turning with a gesture of the right hand towards Liza, his tone at ease in contrast to the severe, fleeting atmosphere that formed momentarily, "She is my long-time bodyguard and an extension of my office. I deemed it appropriate that she be introduced as she has talents you might deem useful, should you need them." His phrasing was delicate but the tone underpinning these words spoke more than the officer let on, speaking to a cherished friendship between the two, born of unflinching loyalty and respect.

In almost any other situation, Weiss' potent, dissecting stare wouldn't have gotten anything but stoic professionalism out of Liza. Regardless of how intimidated or not she may have been, she'd have some serious failings as a body guard if she cracked or even sweat under the threat of a gun to her head, let alone a politician's glare. Yet when Zwei came tearing through like hurricane, Weiss caught it; most even slightly less observant wouldn't have. There was the smallest upward twitch of her lips, and though firm and deferential in tone there was an undercurrent to her words as she spoke after the colonel, a quick salute as she stared directly ahead rather than meeting Weiss' eyes.

"It's an honor, madam councilwoman. One of those talents includes canine obedience training, should you ever require it."

Weiss's frozen veneer of an expression never cracked throughout the colonel's formal introduction of his bodyguard, though her offer and its associated insinuations drew what had to at least be a leading contender for the most noncommittal raise of the eyebrow either one of them had ever seen as she allowed them to step through the threshold and started leading them over to the impeccable marble stairwell dominating the main foyer.

"Oh? That would be something. Perhaps in return I could offer some instructional assistance on how a bodyguard to such an important military official might go about unlocking her semblance at this stage in her career."

There was no real tone to the reply, nothing to outright indicate the councilwoman was copping any sort of attitude for the implication that her most beloved pet was anything less than fully in control of his own actions. Nor was there anything in the words to infer how Weiss might have known about that particular aspect of Liza's life, whether she had ever truly been unaware as to her identity or if proper introductions were simply a crucial part of the way she formed working relationships with people. Something about the way she said it had a bit of a chill creep down their shoulders either way, though that may simply have been the ambience and synesthesia effect of the manor's color pallet as she fell into a confident step beside the official in her strides for the study that had once been her father's.

During their otherwise quiet walk, Weiss allowed her attention to rove over towards the colonel's choice of attire, and he found a melodically enthusiastic note to her words not unlike that employed by many of those aforementioned socialites and politicians who tried to curry favor with him over the years as her fingertips brushed softly and appreciatively against his arm, even as the councilwoman moved to link it. "You always did strike me as sharply dressed, colonel. I can admire a man who isn't beholden to any of the current trends. I suppose in certain respects you could say it's why I asked you here; But I'll save further elaboration until we're all fully settled."

However the coy, almost downright flirtatious tone and physical contact were parsed by both the officer and his bodyguard were carefully noted and filed away for future reference, and Weiss broke off contact only when they stopped before a varnished wooden door installed under an engraving of her family's crest. She allowed the two of them to get settled however they liked, an exceedingly faint roll of the eyes given for Liza's dutiful insistence on standing, but she didn't object; Nor did she appear to have any compunctions about drinking alone, judging by how generously she refilled her glass from the bottle of top-shelf liquor set out neatly on the table as she settled into her own chair across from the colonel with one leg elegantly crossed over the other.

"So," she began, breathing out softly following an initial sip of the glass, ever the classy drinker for as much as the vice appeared irresistible to her. "I wanted to follow up on our meeting from the other day. I've studied some of your reports and checked in with some mutual associates, and given the times we find ourselves in I'm quite happy to entrust you to take charge of my personal security measures for the foreseeable. Should the offer still stand, that is."

It was hardly an enormous logical leap to assume she was becoming a target in the eyes of multiple dangerous factions, even discounting the conversation she'd had earlier today; it would've been foolhardy to depend on her own personal strength and privately hired security to see her through threats on the scale of organized rebels, the Shadow Fang, and the one she'd just declared war on that quite frankly overshadowed them all. A threat she was going to need an organized, powerful, and trustworthy ally by her side to begin implementing all the procedures she'd put in place for just such an eventuality. General Carnelian and the fleet had already been recalled, briefed fully on a situation he'd been told to stand prepared for from the very first day their arrangement began, and despite his nature she had full faith in him to carry out his duty.

But she had other reasons for seeking out a man of a different nature altogether, and watched the colonel carefully as she awaited his reply before continuing with any of them, eyes faintly squinted and one fingertip lightly tracing semicircles around the rim of her glass.​

 

[MyrtenRose]

The figure may have been taking a moment to process their words, or it may have been sizing them up in preparation to strike them down; it was impossible to tell in their stillness. it was only after their response came that they finally moved.

"...I knew it!"

That movement was them bouncing on their toes with a complete and utter failure to contain their excitement.

"Oh, this fantastic! I've been-"

The bouncing stopped as suddenly as it came, the stillness overtaking them once again like a frozen curse.

"...Right! I'm sorry, I just got excited." the figure said to them(?), before they tilted their their head up ever so slightly, and a green glow suddenly pierced the darkness from behind their collar. when they finally spoke again, there was a trepidation that pierced even their modulated tone

"Neopolitan; Known associate of Roman Torchwick, Salem, and Cinder Fall of Remnant 1, and of Ozpin's forces in Remnant 2. Body mass, facial structure, and chest size indicate that you are too old to be the Neopolitan native to Remnant 2. Are you all aware of this? And this Emerald as well-"

Whatever the tool they were using to make these concerningly accurate measurements swept over the green haired thief "-Also does not match previous body records for Emerald Sustrai of Remnant 2. Your presence in Remnant 2 was an unknown until now. Fascinating, but dangerous. Both of you are known criminals who actively work with Salem. Please, could you all explain this discrepency? Otherwise, I may be forced to respond with lethal force."

"...Wa...wait. How do you know about the two different worlds?" Cinder blinked in surprise. How could the Atlesian resistance known about... "Oh!" Cinder suddenly blurted out. "Did they actually make it here? Ruby and Qrow and the others??" She asked in barely contained gleeful relief. How else to explain this surprising bit of knowledge being known? And if they had, that was...honestly, it was a good sign. A welcome bit of news. Especially after the beating she had suffered back in Argus. Her knee still ached with every step, a painful reminder of just how close she had come to death at the hands of that angry faunus woman.​

"Who are you and how do you know these things?" Emerald spat her reply towards the figure, her scathing words tinged with heavy frustration towards this turn of events.

Her next question would have echoed Emerald's there, a desire to know who they were speaking to...but it didn't come out before Emerald's had.
​

A decision made corporealized in her doffing the stance, reaching her full height once again with both hands extended to the side. "Neo is working with me towards the same goal. I can't speak to her motives and I won't. I honestly don't care what happens here on Remnant 2 or whatever... it's a matter of getting home."

"..." That cold declaration of uncaring ripped at least some of the good feelings inside her at the moment, but...she supposed it was fair that Emerald didn't want to get too entangled into the problems of a world not her own...but even so, that still seemed so...harsh. Cinder tore her gaze away from Emerald after that, in favor of looking back to the stranger. She just patiently waited for any answer, the teenager holding her breath and praying that it was so, that Ruby and the rest had gotten here safely. Seeing another friendly familiar face would be just...great.​

 

[Gus Gungus]

"It's..."

Hm, come to think of it not too many people had asked him why he wore this. He tended to assume that people thought he just wore this in his day to day job. Which he DIDN'T.

Not on Mondays anyway.

"I wear it to hide who I am. I'm standing alongside figures of such renown like Ironwood and..." He gestured over to Winter.

"I just felt as though a mousy reporter wouldn't have stood out as much. I'd have felt like I'd be seen as just a kid trying to play with the big boys. So I invented the costume. Lets me step away from being 'Grey' for a second and into just a member of the Resistance, willing to do what I need to."

"Fuck you talkin' bout, son?"

There was no scorn, mockery or derision spiking the reply, despite its extremely blunt nature and wording. The prosthetic eye goggles the resistance figurehead wore simply blinked once in genuine, nonplussed befuddlement, and a finger went out to give Grey a proud, emboldening poke in the chest around the heart area.

"We all got reasons for lookin' how we look, dressin' the way we dress. Far be it from me to question yours. But that 'mousy reporter' you just ran down's standin' here right now, fighting a losin' fight in the bitter cold for not a single godforsaken reason other than it's the right dang thing to do. Wear whatcha like, how ya like, but I won't have a single bad word spoken 'bout no 'mousy reporter' layin' down his life for a struggle he knows full well he might never see the end of. Feller like that, well, there ain't a man or woman here who'd dare claim they don't respect 'im. Ain't that the truth of it?"

The surprisingly wholesome cowboy turned, giving one of the disenfranchised White Fang members behind him a rousing nudge in the ribs.

"I hate humans, but yeah."

"Y'hear that?! He hates humans an' he STILL respects ya!"​

 

[MidwayLives]

Tyrian's usual methods of threatening and intimdiating weren't baring much fruit.

It was frustrating the hell out of him.

Tyrian was confident in his abilities. Only one person he'd encountered had left him shaken to his core. The general of Atlas's forces had done away with Tyrian and his former allies/friends as if they were novices. Just a rowdy bunch of kids who still had a lot to learn about the world at large. Worse than that, he'd made Tyrian feel small. He couldn't hide behind his overzealous appetite to fight when facing down a man like that. He could only stand there in fear petrified to his core. This new enemy was on the opposite end of the spectrum. They'd had a chance to fight both Trifa and himself and instead they walked away from him.

Who did this bastard think he was??? Tyrian was there ready to fight! Talon or not, it'd felt like a figurative slap in the face. As if he'd been 'spared' by Fox's seeming disinterest in finishing him off right then and there. Like the scorpion was beneath their notice, a b-plot to the main reason they were stomping around here. The latter of which Tyrian was out here trying to deduce. Anybody who got too close to Tyrian got a snarl and a push away with the blunt side of his stinger. Fox could have been hiding within anybody in this damn city. They could have been watching Tyrian wandering around getting upset and probably having a laugh at his expense.

Just as he was about to scream to the heavens above in frustration, he'd remembered a place that Trifa had frequented since their search for Ichabod's Killer had begun. Said the place helped calm her nerves. Tyrian didn't see much of the point of going there. Best odds were he ended up getting wasted and punching somebody out or somebody made a pass at Trifa and he'd beat them into the ground. Then Trifa would drag him out of there and pay for whatever damages may have transpired in the midst of the brawl. It was something of a longshot he supposed, if Fox was anywhere, they were likely inside another puppet. Looking like they did and strolling around was bound to get somebody's attention.

Standing outside the bar's doors, Tyrian hyped himself up for whatever may have ended up going down in there. If he had to beat up the right people to get a lead in the right direction? Well, then whatever chaos ended up happening would be worth it! If Fox was in there and had their cover blown and took somebody as a hostage...

Tyrian looked at his weapons and then back at the door. A silent judgement passed in his head.

"Alright...Here we go!"

He kicked the doors open and stomped in, his tail uncoiling.

"Alright! Who here knows about the-"
​

"...Uh..."

It only took one look to know that the question had the exact effect Mercury was going for; Lupin the fifteenth, fifty fourth of his name, hadn't gotten where he was in life by being a courageous man.

"...Yes. I can do that. You should let me go now."

Unfortunately he also didn't get where he was in life by being a particularly clever man.

Tyrian didn't recognize this man.
​

The reply was succinct and deferential, and she was already pouring a drink for Emerald by the time she sat down, somehow nailing exactly what she wanted in the first pour. She also poured a drink for the handcuffed Lupin's stool, who proceeded to give the woman an odd, bemused frown before he hesitantly began to reach for it, only to wheeze out in surprise as a whole ass Neo suddenly appeared in his lap with a thump and snatched it up instead. It was a remarkably colorful drink, all blues and pinks swirling together, and Neo seemed as absolutely fascinated by it as she wasn't by how the handcuffs were clearly digging into their quarry's legs from how he was wincing as his head snapped back and forth between the Neo on top of him and the corpse on the floor behind them, seemingly the only one not in on the joke.

It was also the first time she'd held an alcoholic drink in her hand; she wasn't so prudish as to have a problem with others drinking it, but before Haven she hadn't ever saw the appeal.

Which was probably why she guzzled it all in one go with an unfortunate ease for a newbie from how sweet the drink was, earning an odd look from the bartender before she cleared her throat, and there was an even deeper note of anxiety to her words than when she'd spoke to Emerald.

No...it couldn't have been...

Pulling the hood on his jacket down, Tyrian bounded over to where Neo sat. Getting uncomfortably close as he quirked his head to the side inquisitively.

"That's....Really Neo. Huh."

He turned his head and glanced over at Mercury and Emerald, the gusto he'd built up to initially storm this place starting to dissipate.

"What...What are you guys doing here?"
​

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

The slant to her brows, the lopsided frown, the tilt of the head, and her left hand clasped her right elbow as the the forearm extended outward with the fingers splayed horizontally. All an exquisite illustration of apprehension from Emerald as she watched this weirdo react completely different from what she expected of a mysterious contact ostensibly working with the resistance.

"You're doing a terrible job of setting us at ease."



She couldn't help but snort. The specificity in those words were unexpected, though the temporary betrayal of her stoicism dissipated as she digested the strange phrasing there. Remnant 1, 2? And the knowledge of whom was whom...

Who was this individual?



Emerald instinctively sidestepped, in a bid to avoid the green glare with no success as the stranger continued on, indirectly unveiling more of what she hadn't told the others, a detail specifically omitted that reduced the severity of her relationship to Cinder. If any one was keen for details as these, it was out now.

"Are you kidding me? I have to explain myself again for the second time? No, that's not how this is going to work. Who are you and how do you know these things?" Emerald spat her reply towards the figure, her scathing words tinged with heavy frustration towards this turn of events. Her demeanor was the opposite of disarmed, the telltale signs of the thief working through the fight or flight checklist in her mind as her hands instinctively flocked towards the holsters resting against her back, her posture decreasing in height as she entered a stance precipitously.

"Waaaaaaait." Gretchen interjected, her own tone shaky on the very concept of mustering finality to the singular world. "She's not a bad guy. Well, okay, by her own words, she is but she really wants to get home and has been working with us. She's even given us some crucial info." Gretchen very much elicited a scrutinizing glare from the thief, her crimson eyes insinuating terrible things coming her way for this transgression of speaking on her behalf. Hazel would have meandered closer to his sister who, without realizing it, had interposed herself further than he did. There was a fleeting gawp of realization on her face before she bit it back, shaking her head in a bid to refocus as she swerved out the way to diminish any indication of hostility on her part, on their part.

"Neo's working with Emerald, that's the general gist. It's almost like--"

"Shut. Up." Emerald snarled, quelling the next word to come out of Gretchen with the sharp reproach. A grunt of annoyance, beyond that even, was all she offered for the next minute, her crimson eyes flicking from Gretchen to the stranger for now in consideration. A decision made corporealized in her doffing the stance, reaching her full height once again with both hands extended to the side. "Neo is working with me towards the same goal. I can't speak to her motives and I won't. I honestly don't care what happens here on Remnant 2 or whatever... it's a matter of getting home."

She leveled a stare back onto the twins and Cinder briefly, before sighing and returning her focus, anxiously awaiting the overall outcome of what was slowly becoming a fiasco in her mind.

"...Wa...wait. How do you know about the two different worlds?" Cinder blinked in surprise. How could the Atlesian resistance known about... "Oh!" Cinder suddenly blurted out. "Did they actually make it here? Ruby and Qrow and the others??" She asked in barely contained gleeful relief. How else to explain this surprising bit of knowledge being known? And if they had, that was...honestly, it was a good sign. A welcome bit of news. Especially after the beating she had suffered back in Argus. Her knee still ached with every step, a painful reminder of just how close she had come to death at the hands of that angry faunus woman.



Her next question would have echoed Emerald's there, a desire to know who they were speaking to...but it didn't come out before Emerald's had.



"..." That cold declaration of uncaring ripped at least some of the good feelings inside her at the moment, but...she supposed it was fair that Emerald didn't want to get too entangled into the problems of a world not her own...but even so, that still seemed so...harsh. Cinder tore her gaze away from Emerald after that, in favor of looking back to the stranger. She just patiently waited for any answer, the teenager holding her breath and praying that it was so, that Ruby and the rest had gotten here safely. Seeing another friendly familiar face would be just...great.​

"I see."

The figure's tone was far more guarded than it had been just a few moments ago, what they'd learned in the last minute apparently having a deep affect on their understanding of the situation. The silence that came after those two words stretched on far longer than was any degree of comfortable, and they began to get the gnawing feeling they weren't the only ones this person was talking to.

"I think..." They finally broke the silence, the words carefully spaced as they organized their thoughts. "...I think that there are things that you've done that have hurt people deeply. People that I care about, and... and myself." they murmured, a strange stutter over the sentence "It makes it very difficult to take you at your word, Miss Sustrai. I do not think you are a very good person, and I am unsure if you are the sort who would ever want to be. But... General ironwood believes that you are telling the truth about wanting to get home, and would like to meet with you all, away from resistance headquarters. But please, behave yourself Miss Sustrai. I will be watching you and miss Neopolitan very closely."

They grabbed the hat with both of their hands and pulled it off their head, gripping tight in front of them as they did their best to give Emerald an intimidating glare.

"And I do not think your tricks will do to me what they did to miss Nikos."

For everyone in the room except Neopolitan, it was like seeing a ghost. Long, bouncy orange curls poured out of the hat, and frecked cheeks framed dazzlingly bright green eyes that seemed to shine in the dark. The look on the girl's face was a tense frown that was warring between nervous and determined, and despite how kind her face naturally was, there was a dangerous tension in the air as she stared Emerald down.

"...but more importantly..."

All of a sudden her feet started to glow. A split second later she attacked with the force of the heavens.

Absolutely demolishing Cinder with a hug.

"IT IS SO GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN, SIXTY PERCENT OF MY DEAREST REMNANT TWO FRIENDS!"

 

[MidwayLives]

"Neopolitan; Known associate of Roman Torchwick, Salem, and Cinder Fall of Remnant 1, and of Ozpin's forces in Remant 2. Body mass, facial structure, and chest size indicate that you are too old to be the Neopolitan native to Remnant 2. Are you all aware of this? And this Emerald as well-"

Neo rolled her eyes once more as this stranger seemed to go through a whole song and dance. Not that the diminutive assassin gave a damn. They could either get on with it and take them to meet the rest of their resistance goons or shove off. So long as they kept the ball rolling.

But as the stranger commented on her chest, Neo opened her mouth to silently blurt out some kind of cuss.

...Then as she thought on it, it wasn't really an insult or anything. This guy(?)wasn't insinuating she was a stripper or dissing her outfit.

Alright, she'd let that one slide.
​

"Shut. Up." Emerald snarled, quelling the next word to come out of Gretchen with the sharp reproach. A grunt of annoyance, beyond that even, was all she offered for the next minute, her crimson eyes flicking from Gretchen to the stranger for now in consideration. A decision made corporealized in her doffing the stance, reaching her full height once again with both hands extended to the side. "Neo is working with me towards the same goal. I can't speak to her motives and I won't. I honestly don't care what happens here on Remnant 2 or whatever... it's a matter of getting home."

Emerlad had been the only person Neo had to hang with for the past month or so.

Given how ostracized she seemed to be in this world otherwise, that was something of a relief. Emerald didn't see Neo as just a goon with a useful semblance. They were partners and as sentimental as it sounded, Neo was gonna stick through this so they could both get what they wanted.
​

For everyone in the room except Neopolitan, it was like seeing a ghost. Long, bounce curls poured out of the hat, and frecked cheeks framed dazzlingly bright green eyes that seemed to shine in the dark. The look on the girl's face was a tense frown that was warring between nervous and determined, and despite how kind her face naturally was, there was a dangerous tension in the air as she stared Emerald down.

Oh!

Yeah, it was her!

Neo knew who she was!

....Yeah.​

 

[MyrtenRose]

They grabbed the hat with both of their hands and pulled it off their head, gripping tight in front of them as they did their best to give Emerald an intimidating glare.

"And I do not think your tricks will do to me what they did to miss Nikos."

For everyone in the room except Neopolitan, it was like seeing a ghost. Long, bounce curls poured out of the hat, and frecked cheeks framed dazzlingly bright green eyes that seemed to shine in the dark. The look on the girl's face was a tense frown that was warring between nervous and determined, and despite how kind her face naturally was, there was a dangerous tension in the air as she stared Emerald down.

"...but more importantly..."

All of a sudden her feet started to glow. A split second later she attacked with the force of the heavens.

Absolutely demolishing Cinder with a hug.

"IT IS SO GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN, SIXTY PERCENT OF MY DEAREST REMNANT TWO FRIENDS!"

To say she was stunned into silence by the reveal of who exactly it was they were talking to, that could quite possibly be the greatest understatement in the history of ever. On any Remnant. The talk about Emerald, her nature as a cruel and not so good person, it was concerning. Especially the part about apparently hurting Penny deeply??? That was definitely a question for later, but right now...all of that? They hardly registered beyond saving them for later. Because right here, in front of her...it was somebody she had genuinely never expected to see again. Yeah, Penny was a robot, but that didn't make her any less real. She had a heart and a soul, Cinder never doubted that for even a second. It was that fact which made her doubt she would ever see Penny alive and whole again.

Even if Penny did get rebuilt, the chances of her being the same seemed so low, given how unique and honestly how special Penny was. The fall maiden still fondly remembered the day Penny had saved her from that van and the conversation that followed. She'd feared that once she witnessed Penny torn apart, that the unique essence of who Penny was would be forever lost. That a rebuilt version would just be someone else with the same face. The idea saddened her greatly, and she tried to not think about it very much in the times since. She'd mourned her friend, and had come to accept that the adorable robot was someone that had been ripped out of her life for good.

But yet...here she was.

It was overwhelming, but in a good way. As Penny came in, Cinder was still so stunned by the reappearance that there was no attempt to even move a single inch out of the way as she got ABSOLUTELY SMOTHER-CRUSHED by the hug coming in at mach speeds. It didn't bother her in the slightest. Something she made clear as she laid there on the ground wrapped up in the embrace and returned it wholeheartedly, finally knocked out of her stupor. Both arms wrapped around so tightly, like she never wanted to let go if she could help it. The return hug was just as warm as it was tight, and there were even a few sniffles as she did so. Ones born more of intense joy than any sadness, though. "Penny, I..."

"...Yeah. It is so great to see you." That brief statement wasn't enough to convey all the emotion she wanted to, but she honestly didn't know if she'd be able to do that even if she had days to do so. Which they didn't have. There wasn't that much time to waste, so she settled on those few words and hoped the hug managed to say enough. Seeing one of her good friends again, back from the dead...it honestly was a shot in the arm that sparked a great deal of the feeling of hope back into the teenager. Something that had been in short supply after so much of the recent crap that happened to her, and to the rest of WTCH and MTEN.

"How have you been?"​

 

[MidwayLives]

"Fuck you talkin' bout, son?"

"...Sir??"
​

There was no scorn, mockery or derision spiking the reply, despite its extremely blunt nature and wording. The prosthetic eye goggles the resistance figurehead wore simply blinked once in genuine, nonplussed befuddlement, and a finger went out to give Grey a proud, emboldening poke in the chest around the heart area.

"We all got reasons for lookin' how we look, dressin' the way we dress. Far be it from me to question yours. But that 'mousy reporter' you just ran down's standin' here right now, fighting a losin' fight in the bitter cold for not a single godforsaken reason other than it's the right dang thing to do. Wear whatcha like, how ya like, but I won't have a single bad word spoken 'bout no 'mousy reporter' layin' down his life for a struggle he knows full well he might never see the end of. Feller like that, well, there ain't a man or woman here who'd dare claim they don't respect 'im. Ain't that the truth of it?"

'I...I never thought of it like that..."

'Emotions. Welling up. What a nice person they are...'

"Thank you..."
​

The surprisingly wholesome cowboy turned, giving one of the disenfranchised White Fang members behind him a rousing nudge in the ribs.

"I hate humans, but yeah."

"Y'hear that?! He hates humans an' he STILL respects ya!"

Although he couldn't explain it now, the White Fang's show of support was appreciated deeply.

Just another secret Grey had to keep to himself for now...

"I'm glad we talked, Cobalt. You're an interesting fellow. You're right, I do want to play my part. This is my home and there's only so much I can do behind a desk. I'd gladly put my life on the line if it meant leading the way for a better tomorrow for everyone else."

Grey held his closed hand outwards

The signal for a fist bump was there.

Grey just needed Cobalt to follow through and cement their new found friendship.​

 

[Indolent]

Weiss's frozen veneer of an expression never cracked throughout the colonel's formal introduction of his bodyguard, though her offer and its associated insinuations drew what had to at least be a leading contender for the most noncommittal raise of the eyebrow either one of them had ever seen as she allowed them to step through the threshold and started leading them over to the impeccable marble stairwell dominating the main foyer.

"Oh? That would be something. Perhaps in return I could offer some instructional assistance on how a bodyguard to such an important military official might go about unlocking her semblance at this stage in her career."

There was no real tone to the reply, nothing to outright indicate the councilwoman was copping any sort of attitude for the implication that her most beloved pet was anything less than fully in control of his own actions. Nor was there anything in the words to infer how Weiss might have known about that particular aspect of Liza's life, whether she had ever truly been unaware as to her identity or if proper introductions were simply a crucial part of the way she formed working relationships with people. Something about the way she said it had a bit of a chill creep down their shoulders either way, though that may simply have been the ambience and synesthesia effect of the manor's color pallet as she fell into a confident step beside the official in her strides for the study that had once been her father's.

There was no reason for the Colonel to interject on Liza's behalf, nor was there any desire to, as he understood innately that there wasn't an iota of slight in the councilwoman's words. No, Ector knew quite well that the esteemed Lady Schnee was more than adequately informed as to whom she were speaking to at the moment. It was why, beyond the natural course of a ginger turn of the head with an expectant glance for the incoming reply from Liza, that he was eminently content in letting his adjutant speak for herself, letting their historied dossiers absolve any notion that Liza Krane was ineffectual in her role as a bodyguard to a ranking officer within the upper echelons of the military. The subtext of the monotone script leveraged in their documentations spoke to her excelling in spite of her lack of semblance, suggesting a drive of some kind that very few couldn't envision of let alone begin to achieve a fraction of.

Not that Weiss Schnee was entertaining such a notion after all, to even so much consider the very idea was downright disrespectful and minimizing in the Colonel's mind.

Whatever Liza's reply was, the Colonel held his expression with a minuscule shift to it, the tiniest hint barely perceptible of pride for his subordinate.

During their otherwise quiet walk, Weiss allowed her attention to rove over towards the colonel's choice of attire, and he found a melodically enthusiastic note to her words not unlike that employed by many of those aforementioned socialites and politicians who tried to curry favor with him over the years as her fingertips brushed softly and appreciatively against his arm, even as the councilwoman moved to link it. "You always did strike me as sharply dressed, colonel. I can admire a man who isn't beholden to any of the current trends. I suppose in certain respects you could say it's why I asked you here; But I'll save further elaboration until we're all fully settled."

However the coy, almost downright flirtatious tone and physical contact were parsed by both the officer and his bodyguard were carefully noted and filed away for future reference, and Weiss broke off contact only when they stopped before a varnished wooden door installed under an engraving of her family's crest.

She might have noted Colonel Ector having to stifle the burgeoning demeanor he projected outwardly for those aforementioned particulars, something of an automatic response in all honestly, as he keenly remembered who he was speaking to. Instead of the persona that was a flux of acerbic and allure which made for an intriguing anomaly among his peers at those luxurious galas and other events, it was the more relaxed yet still professional Llewellyn Ector that responded to the councilwoman.



His mouth drew up from the stoic thin line it typically was, an upturned corner conveying a subtle appreciation for her words regarding his selected attire for the meeting. Ector had always favored the classics when it came to outfits, oft times electing for the officer's uniform he personally had tailored for himself but there were moments where he forwent it for the iconic suit and tie, complete with the overcoat. Moments like the aforementioned gatherings and more importantly, now. As it were, he wore a well-kept black suit that was appreciably dated of at least three years, with the accompanying overcoat he simply unbuttoned when they were allowed inside. His intention was to convey to the Councilwoman that while he took his duties gravely with the utmost care, he wasn't a entity rigidly living and breathing the military life in its entirety though it was certainly a core element to the identity of Colonel Llewellyn Ector. In other words, Ector aimed to convey he was more than just his rank and role, however she would take that. After a fashion, he suspected, it was very much along the same line of reasoning Weiss had for donning her nightgown and slippers with her hair down for their meeting.

The gesture of the fingertips brushing against the sleeves of his suit did not go amiss, his eyes briefly flickering to his sleeve and consequently the appendage the fingertips belonged to. They slowly roved back towards eye contact, their ascent slow and purposeful. At their apex, he affixed the heiress with still the same expression as above though with a change. His eyes lidded with the other corner of his mouth uplifted now, completing the emergence of a rarity from the Colonel himself. A smile. Whether it was a carefully cultivated response to the gesture born from his years in mingling with the few that approached him in similar fashion or it was genuine was a difficult certainty to extricate, though his relaxed demeanor spoke to one more likely than the other.

"Thank you, Councilwoman Schnee. I am pleased that my choice of attire for the evening is receptive. I find myself in good company and I mean to convey such."

She allowed the two of them to get settled however they liked, an exceedingly faint roll of the eyes given for Liza's dutiful insistence on standing, but she didn't object; Nor did she appear to have any compunctions about drinking alone, judging by how generously she refilled her glass from the bottle of top-shelf liquor set out neatly on the table as she settled into her own chair across from the colonel with one leg elegantly crossed over the other.

"So," she began, breathing out softly following an initial sip of the glass, ever the classy drinker for as much as the vice appeared irresistible to her. "I wanted to follow up on our meeting from the other day. I've studied some of your reports and checked in with some mutual associates, and given the times we find ourselves in I'm quite happy to entrust you to take charge of my personal security measures for the foreseeable. Should the offer still stand, that is."

It was hardly an enormous logical leap to assume she was becoming a target in the eyes of multiple dangerous factions, even discounting the conversation she'd had earlier today; it would've been foolhardy to depend on her own personal strength and privately hired security to see her through threats on the scale of organized rebels, the Shadow Fang, and the one she'd just declared war on that quite frankly overshadowed them all. A threat she was going to need an organized, powerful, and trustworthy ally by her side to begin implementing all the procedures she'd put in place for just such an eventuality. General Carnelian and the fleet had already been recalled, briefed fully on a situation he'd been told to stand prepared for from the very first day their arrangement began, and despite his nature she had full faith in him to carry out his duty.

But she had other reasons for seeking out a man of a different nature altogether, and watched the colonel carefully as she awaited his reply before continuing with any of them, eyes faintly squinted and one fingertip lightly tracing semicircles around the rim of her glass.

Seated across the Weiss, his overlaying hands rested atop his lap, Llewellyn squarely kept the councilwoman well within his line of sight. While he was never one for the drink, he did have his qualms when it came to alcohol as the subject matter. Fortunately, he could allay any concerns about the insidious effects of alcohols overtaking Weiss Schnee. As he understood it, from what little inferences he could make, it was a means of reprieve from the starkly dense busy schedule the woman conducted on a day to day basis. So while his understanding stemmed from the neat rationalization that fell into place, it was also tempered by the sheer fact it was not his place whatsoever. The only time it might ever be was if that particular vice interfered with her responsibilities and even then, he had an inkling she'd not let it come to pass first and foremost.

So with that non-issue aside, he was more than pleased they proceeded to discuss business.

"It still stands, Councilwoman Schnee," The colonel proffered a firm yet reassuring nod, "Though it will necessitate military presence within the confines of your home. It is regrettable that it has to be the case but I will ensure that myself nor Liza and our staff will not interfere in the day to day of your life. Plus, of course, we will be readily available if you need us."

The first meeting they convened days past revolved around the seditionist attack, a cursory investigation a natural part of his duties within the military. It was a concerning matter in every respect, heightened by the simple fact it was the General Carnelian himself that issued the order to ensure her safety at all costs. Though Ector had a personal disagreement on the General's meaning of the term, he accepted his new charge and brought the matter to her attention then atop his inquiries into the situation that befell her home. It hardly required an imaginative mind to understand that a figure of great clout like Weiss Schnee was to be an individual with far more enemies than allies. Especially when she had influence over the greatest economy and military in the world, something that irked far more than her fair share for a menagerie of reasons. So it was with the Shadow Fang and the history of the faunus under humanity, their treatment. So it was with the rise of dissenting voices within their sister city, culminating in a movement that sought to remove her from the role of protector the good people elected her to. It was a growing situated that felt that if it worsened any more, it could easily mire the progress Ector had envisioned for Atlas and Mantle, and beyond.

"I have been keeping myself abreast of the situation on both fronts and shall exercise my authority in excising the dangers to your life if an opportunity presents itself. However, your safety will be paramount. After all, should anything befall you, I cannot imagine fully the ramifications that would follow from that, those foreseeable and otherwise. It would be a loss we could never recover from."

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

Weiss's frozen veneer of an expression never cracked throughout the colonel's formal introduction of his bodyguard, though her offer and its associated insinuations drew what had to at least be a leading contender for the most noncommittal raise of the eyebrow either one of them had ever seen as she allowed them to step through the threshold and started leading them over to the impeccable marble stairwell dominating the main foyer.

"Oh? That would be something. Perhaps in return I could offer some instructional assistance on how a bodyguard to such an important military official might go about unlocking her semblance at this stage in her career."

"I don't think I could afford a tutor of your caliber, madam councilwoman." Liza replied calmly, no umbrage or embarrassment slipping into her tone as she dropped the salute and stepped in line with Ector as Schnee led them inside.

During their otherwise quiet walk, Weiss allowed her attention to rove over towards the colonel's choice of attire, and he found a melodically enthusiastic note to her words not unlike that employed by many of those aforementioned socialites and politicians who tried to curry favor with him over the years as her fingertips brushed softly and appreciatively against his arm, even as the councilwoman moved to link it. "You always did strike me as sharply dressed, colonel. I can admire a man who isn't beholden to any of the current trends. I suppose in certain respects you could say it's why I asked you here; But I'll save further elaboration until we're all fully settled."

However the coy, almost downright flirtatious tone and physical contact were parsed by both the officer and his bodyguard were carefully noted and filed away for future reference, and Weiss broke off contact only when they stopped before a varnished wooden door installed under an engraving of her family's crest. She allowed the two of them to get settled however they liked, an exceedingly faint roll of the eyes given for Liza's dutiful insistence on standing, but she didn't object; Nor did she appear to have any compunctions about drinking alone, judging by how generously she refilled her glass from the bottle of top-shelf liquor set out neatly on the table as she settled into her own chair across from the colonel with one leg elegantly crossed over the other.

His mouth drew up from the stoic thin line it typically was, an upturned corner conveying a subtle appreciation for her words regarding his selected attire for the meeting. Ector had always favored the classics when it came to outfits, oft times electing for the officer's uniform he personally had tailored for himself but there were moments where he forwent it for the iconic suit and tie, complete with the overcoat. Moments like the aforementioned gatherings and more importantly, now. As it were, he wore a well-kept black suit that was appreciably dated of at least three years, with the accompanying overcoat he simply unbuttoned when they were allowed inside. His intention was to convey to the Councilwoman that while he took his duties gravely with the utmost care, he wasn't entirely a entity rigidly living and breathing the military life in its entirety though it was certainly a core element to the identity of Colonel Llewellyn Ector. In other words, Ector aimed to convey he was more than just his rank and role, however she would take that. After a fashion, he suspected, it was very much along the same line of reasoning Weiss had for donning her nightgown and slippers with her hair down for their meeting.

The gesture of the fingertips brushing against the sleeves of his suit did not go amiss, his eyes briefly flickering to his sleeve and consequently the appendage the fingertips belonged to. They slowly roved back towards eye contact, their ascent slow and purposeful. At their apex, he affixed the heiress with still the same expression as above though with a change. His eyes lidded with the other corner of his mouth uplifted now, completing the emergence of a rarity from the Colonel himself. A smile. Whether it was a carefully cultivated response to the gesture born from his years in mingling with the few that approached him in similar fashion or it was genuine was a difficult certainty to extricate, though his relaxed demeanor spoke to one more likely than the other.

"Thank you, Councilwoman Schnee. I am pleased that my choice of attire for the evening is receptive. I find myself in good company and I mean to convey such."

Liza, as she had the rest of the visit, maintained a stoic professionalism as her colonel and Atlas' highest authority used this incredibly important meeting to play flirting footsie. Nothing in that demeanor changed as the pair took their seat, Liza seemingly content to stay at ease for the rest of the conversation until called upon.

 

[Gus Gungus]

"I have been keeping myself abreast of the situation on both fronts and shall exercise my authority in excising the dangers to your life if an opportunity presents itself. However, your safety will be paramount. After all, should anything befall you, I cannot imagine fully the ramifications that would follow from that, those foreseeable and otherwise. It would be a loss we could never recover from."

Weiss nodded, listening attentively to every word but not quite looking up from her glass just yet. Every interaction to this point had been gauged, every subtle push and pull she exerted over the conversation a notation carefully taken down by the councilwoman's shrewd mind, whatever conclusions she drew her own to keep close to her chest. She really did like the suit though. "I'm a powerful woman, colonel. And I do mean multiple definitions of the word. I'm sure you gathered as much for yourself from the footage of the seditionists' efforts to capture me. That doesn't make me a soldier, and it doesn't mean I'm unwilling to defer to the judgment of someone who's made a career out of the military life and its litany of intricacies. Which extends to any officer you'd hold in high enough esteem to bring to this meeting," she added, eyes flicking up to hold Liza in a brief gaze that lacked the icy scrutiny of the ones she'd weathered at the door.

She paused, more to give the conversation the appropriate room to breathe than out of any uncertainty as to what she was going to say next. Her words, though humble, were simultaneously assured in her own ability to sit at the head of the kingdom's united front, provided she had the backing of dependable allies; frankly, the woman radiated authority and confidence by the bucketload, and not a single drop of it registered as misplaced. She was someone capable, someone who knew what she was doing even in the bleakest of times, and it wasn't difficult to see why so many had willingly put their faith in her.

"I'd like to be clear before we continue, however; I don't defer to simply any soldier who believes Atlas's military power renders its other branches of government impotent. Had that been the case, James Ironwood would've successfully detained me and led this kingdom to ruin by now. I represent the people, duly elected to see them through the coming storm and facilitate the promise of a better life waiting on the other side, and as far as I'm concerned? That authority supersedes any within the armed hierarchy." Her eyes, having returned to watching her finger trace circles around the circumference of the glass, shot back up to regard him with cold steel no less commanding or filled with resolve than any Ector had ever encountered in his own profession. "I practically had to beat Ironwood upside the head with that ideal while he held his station. Now that he's gone, I've had to be no less adamant about it with General Carnelian. Men who believe in the rule of power are easily lured to temptation by it, no matter how nobly they intended to wield that power at the start. But I didn't ask for this meeting because I intend to beat you over the head with any such dogma, colonel. If we're being honest, I didn't even send for you so we could discuss my security matters. No; you're here because I happen to know you already agree with every word I just said. Am I wrong?"

She cocked her head, an almost playfully knowing smile on her face as she arched an eyebrow as if to dare him to tell her she was. A lesser level of intelligence and perception than the one occupied by Weiss Schnee could've seen a man like Colonel Ector for what he was, no less deftly than she had seen Carnelian and Ironwood. Only this was different.

It had been evident even as far back as the galas and events she'd subjected herself to all those years ago, even with Weiss's own ambitions only in their burgeoning stages. The way he put in facetime with the relevant figures of influence without ever truly allowing himself to be won over by them; how he indulged those of higher station and lesser character without ever truly heeding their banalities. Even then, a girl no more twenty at the most, she'd been able to see it. He'd been a man playing a part. Someone shaking hands with these people only to wipe it on something once their backs were turned. He was a man who wanted change.

Not so terribly unlike somebody else who had been in those rooms.

It wasn't anything she could make use of back then, but she had certainly made a note of it. She went so far as to keep an eye on his career progression even while her own soared to unimaginable heights, a steadfast, dependable crawl through the ranks earned through diligence and competency that was nevertheless beginning to be marred and slowed by the ones above Ector who weren't too partial to this younger officer and his various notions. It was inevitable as it was sad, really. Men like him had come along before, promising young leaders who saw the world for what it was and strove tirelessly to make it better, and they always rose to a certain level in the command chain then rose no further, held down by those above who understood the threat they posed to a way of life that benefited them. And only them.

Men like her father. He wasn't military, no, but how many officers had he shaken hands with following substantial donations or the funding of new military ventures? How else would someone like Jacques Schnee have become acquainted with a man like Borous Carnelian? The wealthy and the leaders; in a city like Atlas, the two words were practically synonymous. These were the men who planted their feet and stood in the way of progress, because progress didn't suit them. Stagnation did. They were the people who thrived from the status quo, because the status quo gave them power, and so the status quo would remain. Ozpin was the original world-ender, but these were the ones born into modern society, born from the weakness that could take hold of the human spirit. They were the snake eating its own tail.

Weiss Schnee may have been drawn into the conflict between Ozpin and Salem and its world-shattering ramifications, but a simple need to prioritize that particular layer of her grand plan of late did not make it the original one. The one that started all this. The bottom layer that started everything was no different than she'd said: the intent to create a better world, the utopia they were owed. But political machinations could only get one so far. The systems in place had their limitations. Only one with the drive and uncompromising willingness to do whatever it took could make such a world a reality, and there was only one way such a world would ever come to fruition.

By burning the old one down.

To do that, as much as the lies and machinations laid the groundwork and allowed her to secure power and influence she simply never would've been allowed to obtain otherwise, there came a point where the weight of them all would catch up to a Weiss Schnee who acted alone. Recent events had driven that point home more emphatically than ever, spurring the councilwoman to trust her own instincts and take a leap of faith. It wasn't something she was very accustomed to putting in others, outside of herself.

It was entirely possible recent events had swayed her opinion on that too. She took a heavy, world-weary breath, and hoped she was correct in those assessments as she polished off another sip of her drink.

"...This meeting is going to end up being something of a rollercoaster, Colonel. Before proceeding, I ask that you open your mind and keep it open." Her tones were smooth, breezy and polite in her eagerness to cut through propriety and get to the heart of the matter. As messy as it truly was going to be to relate everything. Some matters would be kept hidden, acts and ruses she was confident a man as decent as the colonel who didn't share in her detachment from emotional thinking could tolerate; but finally, vindicatingly, Weiss Schnee was going to bare the true core of her motivations to someone.

It was almost a bit exciting. She just hoped she hadn't overestimated the colonel's commitment to their shared ideals.

She diplomatically curled a hand as she commenced. "We're not so terribly dissimilar, you and I. I know, I know, feel free to scoff at that if you like. But it's true. We're both well aware what the rules of our respective games are. We've learned to play them, and play them well. We've both seen how cruel the world can really be, and for the past several years we've dedicated ourselves to improving the system that allows for it to be so. But progress stalls, and the ones who benefit from the current system ensure any actual improvements fall within their acceptable parameters. Very little actually changes; the ones the system doesn't cater to? The likes of the downtrodden, the faunus, Mantle? Their suffering only worsens, and goes unanswered. The world continues to be cruel. And people like you and I start to become... jaded. Discouraged. Downright cynical, even. We start to realize one simple, disappointing truth."

The sigh that served as a bridge from those words to her next came from deep within her lungs, so bitter and contemptuous it was almost a hiss. It'd be a terrible shame if she'd misjudged this man and he tried to arrest her in the next few minutes, but she still held confidence that her judgment of his character wasn't inaccurate. She saw too much of herself in him to believe that.

"The system is broken. It can't be fixed. Not through the conventional methods, anyway. There are too many people with too much power who won't allow for it. And you know how I know, Colonel? Would you like to hear why I'm so sure? Because I'm one of those people the current system caters to. I have lunches and dinners with the types of reprobates I'm talking about almost weekly. One of those people spawned me. Everywhere I go, everywhere I turn, I'm bombarded by their stench, the stench of greed, of apathy, of corruption. And I'll tell you this much; they are not going to relinquish their control without a fight. They don't care about the suffering, they don't care that the world is cruel. Because what's happening right now, the way things are? It works for them."

She had to admit, it felt good to finally say all this out loud to somebody. Zwei didn't make for the most compelling audience, and she was admittedly eager to hear the thoughts of someone she thought might understand. Or hoped.

No. She knew he would. Because everything she was saying, all the things she'd set out to achieve, however amoral some of the things she'd done in the interest of gaining the power necessary to achieve them were?

There wasn't a single word of it that didn't make sense.

"Please don't presume what I'm about to say to be arrogance, because I assure you it isn't so: I see myself as the solution to this problem. I have the drive, I have the resources, I have the intelligence, and most importantly? I have the perspective. There's never been someone like me on the side of the downtrodden before. I've spent years devising new systems, new mechanics, new protocols, all of which I'd be happy to share with you, and when I achieve my goals every single one of them is going to work. And what's more? They're sustainable. It's real democracy. It's a republic without the greed, without prejudice, without the trappings of emotional thinking committed by men who lack the discipline to even begin controlling their emotions; Instead, they're ruled by them. I know exactly what I need to do, and I know exactly how to do it. And all I need are allies. Military allies."

Somehow, the tempered steel resolve in her words had only risen in potency the longer she went on. Her hands both nursed the glass they were holding as she took another deep breath, gaze falling to regard the clear liquid swirling within.

"Right now, that means General Carnelian. But he's a temporary measure, and he will not have a place in the system I intend to establish. I assume neither of us harbor any delusions about who he is and what he's done. He's a rabid dog, a fossil, and quite frankly one who deserves to die out in the old world long before he ever gets a chance to live in the new one. And if I'm being honest? I don't think he expects anything less." Seeing into that man's soul hadn't been difficult. He was bored. He'd lived too long. His best days, the ones he could truly say he enjoyed, were all behind him, and now all that was left was finding the one capable of carrying out his passage to the void. The man truly did embody that old parable of the snake who consumed itself.

"But he is strong. There's no one in all of Remnant with more accumulated time on a battlefield. And make no mistake, the time of war is upon us. Even as we speak, an enemy the likes of which the kingdom has never seen before gathers his forces and prepares to strike. But we'll get to him in a minute. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

She raised the glass to her lips and finished it, gathering her thoughts with an inscrutable expression as her eyes drew in the colonel's each and every reaction to her words, every flicker of emotion and twitch to his expression.

It was important for settling one crucial question before she went any further, after all. Her expression was almost droll as she delivered her follow-up.

"I assume that after everything you've just heard you're either interested or you're going to have your bodyguard arrest me. So before I use up any more of my breath, I should very much like to know which you're going with."​

 

[MyrtenRose]

They took advantage of a dust storage facility no longer in use, a fairly simple structure with open spaces along its length tented above by rusted metal. In disrepair and sorely out of date that the corporation it belonged to didn't think much of its upkeep, it was frequently utilized by a mix of the criminal and the native out of necessity and enterprising purposes. It was just so that through the leveraging of their fleeting clout under Lil Miss Malachite's guise they were able to secure the terminal for the foreseeable future, though there was never the intention of overstaying their welcome here.

"Hrm." This had been almost ludicrously easy. Numerous people had witnessed the ship cruise over the city, concern or idle curiosity drawing their attention towards it for the brief time it had been overhead. It certainly wasn't following the normal routine of the usual Atlesian airship, and a lesser few among the many people that saw it wondered what it could mean. Some of the more worrisome in the crowds wondered if an infestation of grimm had cropped up elsewhere in Mantle, and that was where the ship was heading. To unleash its armaments on the monsters, deploy AK-200s or a squad of soldiers air dropped onto the beasts to neutralize them. It wasn't. More than a handful of people had seen where the aircraft had put down, and a couple of the more helpful ones had even called in and reported where the ship could be found, its strangeness of chosen landing site giving them cause for concern.

Nobody would put down there...not without a reason to be hiding. That led her to standing here, on the edge of a building overlooking the decrepit facility as a crew of service workers moved about to impound the vehicle. Albeit one that, by now, no longer appeared to be an Atlesian airship at all.

No, it was one that was decidedly of the Mistralian flavor, though a heavily customized(and frankly hideous looking) one. Now it made sense. The people aboard the ship had simply used the façade of being an Atlas military craft to navigate safely past the fleet. However they maintained the disguise, that was of little concern. The how of it all was irrelevant for the time being, and something that could easily be learned once the interlopers were found and apprehended, to see if that information could prove beneficial. No, the thing that mattered most at this point in time, was the why. Whoever had been piloting and riding on that ship, they had to have their reasons for doing so. Several Mantle citizens with the good sense to cooperate, to describe the strange motley crew that had emerged from within, though none of the citizens could fully state where the group was heading. None of their day-to-day routines left them free to stalk behind the new trespassers as they traversed the city streets.

"Jennings?"

"Ma'am."

"Give me the rundown on this place. What is it being used for? Clearly not for its original intended purpose." There was just a hint of disgust in her voice in the inefficiency of Mantle. Any broken down building like this, if it had been up in the city above, would have been torn down and replaced long ago. Atlas had no room for the superfluous or ruined. A new building would have been standing in its place before long, efficient and clean. But Mantle...they just let themselves go. How wasteful. Cities weren't that much different from machines, she found. A collection of things that came together, a metric ton of little individual pieces(or buildings and people, in this particular case) that worked together to achieve results far beyond the mere sum of its parts.

And any machine that had parts of itself rotting away like this, they would have been deemed useless and discarded...or at the very least, fixed. Either the people of Mantle didn't care, or they were too busy complaining to the people living above to do anything about it themselves. Or were begging for Atlas to come down and fix all their problems. Part of her was irritated by all that, but it was a small part, swallowed up by the larger parts filled with compassion.

"Scanning databases..." The droid was silent for barely a second, its computerized and greatly improved mind shifting through the databases at speeds Gwen herself could never match. "Reports indicate that the site is now used more by the criminal element, taking advantage of its abandoned nature for use in their more discreet practices."

"Is that so?" Her mouth moved downwards into a displeased frown. "Put in a order for demolition, ASAP. Tear the whole thing down, and in its place...." She considered for a moment. "Perhaps an orphanage, or a homeless shelter, or something like that. A facility that is far more helpful to the people here." Her eyes wrenched away from looking at the building any longer, eyeing a couple of the cameras in the distance.

"Done."

"Good. Thank you Jennings." She let out in a grateful display of affection for her ever-loyal machine companion. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she peered at the camera, and even at this significant range, her semblance was adept as ever. She psychically interfaced with the simple surveillance device, gathered its accumulated recordings and sent them rushing through the connection to the armored TACPAD on her wrist. From there it was child's play to look through the visual recordings, each one holographically projected into the air above her wrist. Eventually she found what she was looking for, a glimpse of the group as described as they went by. She had a direction to start with, at the very least.

There was a small smile emerging on her face. "Grab hold, Jennings. Make sure it's a tight hold, as always."

The AK-130 did so, its glowing faceplate likewise showcasing a bit of appreciation. "I do like this part."

"Me too, buddy. Me too." The soldier stepped off the edge of the building, gravity leading her down to plummet into the ground. Except she didn't. Instead she, and the robot whose mechanical arms were wrapped around her, were propelled through the air thanks to her jet boots. A largely custom design of the technopath's own. She soared through the sky in the direction of that camera. One of them had caught sight of these intruders, and Mantle, well. It was a city with a thousand eyes. Traffic cameras, general surveillance devices, even floating drones that went about recording specific things, they were all over the place. She simply had to follow the trail. She just hoped the hunt would be a worthwhile one.​

 

[Gus Gungus]

'I...I never thought of it like that..."

'Emotions. Welling up. What a nice person they are...'

"Thank you..."

The ranger offered an obliging flick of their hat.

"Goddamn if you really ain't one creepy sumbitch though, an' I got a face under here prone to givin' the kid folk nightmares."

Their own knuckle was nevertheless proffered in turn, emitting a faint pneumatic hiss as their gauntlet touched off the journalist's gloves in a true meeting of the two biggest weirdos in the entire resistance. And that was including Nora Valkyrie.

Their head flicked to one side suddenly, alert and attentive as Grey detected the faint chatter of something coming through their mask's built-in communicator. They gave Grey a hearty slap on the collar and turned to address the others gathered, Winter's attention snapping up from however deep inside her own head she was over by the wall as she stared at the resistance figure with a tightly dutiful frown.

"Additional intel from the head honcho, ladies 'n other folk! This just went from bein' a scout run to watchdog duty. Everyone with a lick o' ridin' experience, saddle up; those without, double up. Madame Schnee, per usual if'n you would be so inclined as to be our eyes from the sky. Mister Grey, you may as well ride with me up on the Stranger here. Rest o' you boys know what to do."

They gave deferential nods to those they addressed specifically, before swinging themselves up onto the chestnut brown stallion already primed and ready to go next to them and offering their fellow masked insurgent a hand.

Someday she was going to stop pretending that accent made any kind of sense. Winter's eyes narrowed slightly with concentration, and through the elaborate glyph forming next to her (a sight liable to give even the most hardened among the organization PTSD episodes following recent events) stepped the spectral recollection of a Manticore, Grimm known throughout Solitas and well noted for their flight speed and mobility. The first one she ever killed waited for her to climb up with loyal patience, the sight of a trained Grimm one that still unnerved some among the organization who hadn't quite relinquished their vested mistrust of the Schnee name as the former White Fang murmured amongst themselves bitterly while they mounted up in their own right. Winter remained unaffected by it, exercising the exact same behavior any levelheaded Schnee had ever employed towards the various extremist factions out for their blood: ignoring them.​