Requesting Help (Rewritten)
Requesting Help
The scroll buzzed as she was getting back aboard the airship.
Rainbow ignored it until the doors to The Bus had closed behind her. She didn’t have to even get the device out to know that it wasn’t anybody she knew trying to reach her; she’d customised her ringtones — although obviously, she had to put them all on vibrate when she was out in the field — so that if any of her friends had been trying to get hold of her, it would have been playing a unique piece of music for each of them; if they’d been trying to get her as part of a group call, it would have been playing ‘Better Than Ever’; if the military had been trying to reach her in an emergency, a klaxon would have started to sound by now; and a call from Penny or Ciel would have been heralded by recordings of their voices.
Although it could be Blake on the other end of the line; Rainbow hadn’t set anything up for her yet.
But it was more likely that it was just someone she didn’t know trying to get hold of her.
Rainbow yawned as the scroll kept buzzing. She had spent the last night with Scootaloo, Applejack, Apple Bloom, Rarity, and Sweetie Belle doing the Annual Big Sister/Little Sister Camping Trip, because if they didn’t take this opportunity, they were going to miss a year — unless anyone fancied a camping trip in winter — and while it had been a ton of fun, nobody went camping to get a lot of sleep.
Don’t get her wrong, it had been great sitting out there in the woods, just chilling out with her honorary little sister and her friends, toasting marshmallows and eating hotdogs and telling stories … but it did leave her yawning now as she prepared to fly back to Atlas.
Rainbow got out her scroll. As she’d expected, it was an unknown number. She answered it anyway, tapping the green ‘accept call’ icon on the off-chance that it might be important.
If it was someone trying to sell her something, she could always hang up.
“Hey, Dash; long time no see.”
Rainbow’s eyes widened as she looked at the face that appeared on the screen before her: close-cropped white hair and golden eyes set in a sharp, angular face. “Gilda?”
“Surprised to see me, Dashie?” Gilda asked from out of the screen of Rainbow’s scroll. “I guess so, seeing as how you didn’t tell any of your human friends about me. I have to say: that hurt. I told everybody about you.”
“How did you get this number?” Rainbow demanded.
“I got it off your friend Fluttershy when she was…” Gilda hesitated.
“When you were holding her prisoner?” Rainbow suggested in a low growl.
“Don’t say it like that; it’s not like I hurt her,” Gilda replied. “Didn’t she tell you that I looked out for her and Applejack when they were down in Mountain Glenn?”
Fluttershy had mentioned that, as it happened, but that didn’t mean that Rainbow was particularly eager to give Gilda a lot of credit; after all, she’d only needed to protect Fluttershy and Applejack because the White Fang were holding them prisoner.
“You could have just let them go,” she muttered.
“We did,” Gilda reminded her.
“Fluttershy, maybe, but not Applejack,” Rainbow countered. “And from what Fluttershy said, that was more Adam’s doing than yours.”
“You think that I could release a high-value prisoner without Adam’s say so?” Gilda replied. “Come on, Dash, I’m a soldier, just like you, and just like you, I have a chain of command to follow. I did my best, and they were both safe in the end — they are both okay, aren’t they? I mean, I saw Applejack getting on that train with you, but—”
“Applejack is fine,” Rainbow told her. “And so is Fluttershy.”
“Then what are you complaining to me about?”
Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Did you just call me to take credit for not being a complete jackass? Or to complain that I don’t talk about you enough? Or are you just upset that I never call you any more?”
“If I was mad about that, I’d have a right to be,” Gilda muttered. She paused for a moment. “But no, actually, I called you because … because I need your help.”
Rainbow couldn’t suppress the scoff, nor keep the incredulity out of her voice. “You want me to help you? After you … you’re in the White Fang, and you want me to do you a favour?”
“It isn’t for me,” Gilda said. “Listen, I know that we’re on the opposite sides … and maybe you don’t even like me anymore, I don’t know, but just hear me out, okay? For old times’ sake.”
Rainbow scowled as she walked into the cockpit and sat down in the pilot’s chair. I guess I don’t have to say yes once I’ve heard her out. “What is it?”
“I know that you’re back in Atlas—”
“How do you know that?” Rainbow demanded.
“Because I know you,” Gilda said. “Talking to Fluttershy made it clear that you haven’t changed since we were kids. You went through some stuff down in Mountain Glenn, but now that the semester is over, you went home to Atlas where you could hang out with your friends before the Vytal Festival and make yourself feel better.”
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to spend time with my friends,” Rainbow said defensively.
“I didn’t say there was,” Gilda said. “I’m glad that you’re in Atlas; you wouldn’t be any good to me in Vale.”
“Why not? What’s this about, G?” Rainbow demanded.
“People are disappearing in Low Town,” Gilda said. “No, before you ask, I’m not in Atlas, but unlike you, I kept in touch with a few people back in Low Town, and they called me because they couldn’t think of who else to turn to. People are disappearing; they’re being taken in the night.”
“'Taken'?” Rainbow frowned. “Taken by who?”
“Nobody knows,” Gilda said. “Nobody sees it happening.”
“Then how do they know these people are being taken?” Rainbow asked. “Maybe they’re just—”
“Running?” Gilda suggested. “Running where, Dashie? It’s a frozen tundra out there; don’t tell me you’ve been up in the clouds so long that you’ve forgotten what the ground is like.”
Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Come on, you’re being ridiculous; we both know that you wouldn’t even have to leave Low Town to disappear; maybe they’re just … maybe they’re not happy with their parents or their wives or whatever, so they’re hiding out with friends or something.”
“Come on, Rainbow Dash, if it was that simple, people wouldn’t be calling me for help,” Gilda said. “And besides, it isn’t just people with reason to disappear; it’s people who were happy, who had good lives, or as good lives as you can get down in Low Town.”
“Other people thought they had good lives.”
“The local White Fang tried to do something about the disappearances,” Gilda said. “They organised a neighbourhood watch, lookouts on the streets, but the lookouts disappeared too; now does that sound like unhappy people running away from home?”
No, no it honestly didn’t. None of what Gilda had said was proof of foul play, but that last part came very close. “So you come to me,” Rainbow said. “Is this your way of trying to get me killed?”
Gilda rubbed her eyes, as though Rainbow wasn’t the only one who hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep last night. “I’m gonna level with you, Rainbow: the White Fang in Atlas is … not the strongest. All the good fighters leave for places where it’s more of a fair fight. All that’s left are recruiters and punk kids and a few old-timers. It’s enough to scare off dealers or small time crooks, but if something bad is going down … it isn’t enough.”
That made sense. Even if the White Fang brought all of its strength to Atlas, there was no way that they could win a fight against the Atlesian military in its own home and the heart of its strength; that being the case, it made sense that all the tough guys left Atlas to go places where they might actually win an engagement.
“Has anybody called the police?” Rainbow asked.
Gilda rolled her eyes. “When were the police last interested in helping out the faunus?”
“That’s not fair.”
“You say it isn’t fair, I say it’s the truth, and the fact is that, even if the cops really wanted to help, nobody wants to talk to them,” Gilda said. “You remember what it was like: All Cops Are—”
“Yeah, yeah, I remember,” Rainbow muttered. “So even if I talked to the cops, nobody would talk to them, is that it?”
“Nobody’s sure the cops aren’t the ones behind the disappearances,” Gilda said. She sighed. “Dash, you’re the only person I know who can take care of herself and… and who won’t ask me to give up intel in exchange for getting off your butt to do something about this.”
“How do you know I won’t?”
Gilda hesitated. “I guess I’m just hoping you won’t,” she said. “These used to be your people too, Dash. You may hang out with a bunch of fancy humans now, but you’re still one of us. This is your chance to give something back. To prove that you’re still one of the good guys.”
“I am one of the good guys!” Rainbow said indignantly. But there was no point in debating this with Gilda, especially not when people’s lives were at stake.
Like Gilda had said, these had been her people once.
Like Blake had told her, they were still her people.
“Is there anything else?” she asked.
“Not that I know of,” Gilda replied.
“Okay,” Rainbow said. “I’ll go down there myself and see what I can do.”
“You mean you’ll help?”
“People are getting kidnapped; of course I’ll help,” Rainbow said sharply.
Gilda nodded. A grin spread across her face. “Good to see the old Rainbow Dash is still in there.”
“Will you get off that high horse and stop talking to me like I’m some kind of … forget it,” Dash said. She made to end the call, but something stopped her, held her thumb in place. “Hey, Gilda, can I ask you something?”
“What about?”
Rainbow hesitated, wondering how embarrassing this would be to ask. “Do your parents know that you’re in the White Fang?”
Gilda’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you care?”
“Because I wrote to my parents—”
“Really?” Gilda asked. “You wrote to your parents?”
“Shut up,” Rainbow snapped. “The point is that I told them you were in management, and I’m going to look pretty stupid if my folks have already found out from your folks what you really do.”
Gilda paused for a moment. “'Management,' huh?” she said, smiling as she mimed adjusting a non-existent collar and tie with one hand. “That … that’s pretty cool, Rainbow Dash, thanks.”
“So that’s a no, then?”
“I told my parents I work construction in Vale,” Gilda said. “I’ll have to tell them that I got a big promotion the next time I write. How come?”
“How come you got a promotion?” Rainbow asked. “I don’t know; it’s your fake career, you figure it out.”
“How come you didn’t tell your parents the truth?” Gilda demanded.
“Why would I?” asked Rainbow. “I’ll kill you if I have to, but there’s no reason I have to embarrass you first.”
Gilda chuckled. “I appreciate that, Dash, and I appreciate you looking into this stuff in Low Town even more.”
“I’m not doing it for you,” Rainbow told her.
“You keep telling yourself that,” Gilda said. “Good hunting.” She hung up.
Rainbow stared at the blank screen for a moment before she folded up her scroll.
Well, I guess I know what I’m doing today.
I wonder how Blake’s feeling?
Rainbow probably shouldn’t approach Blake with this; she’d come to Atlas for a rest, after all, not a busman’s holiday. Fluttershy would undoubtedly have words when Rainbow showed up at her house, asking to take Blake out on a sort-of mission. But Rainbow could use the help, and it wasn’t as though there were any better choices; Ciel was in Mantle, and the arguments against disturbing Blake applied to her and to Applejack as well — they’d all been through a lot, and they all deserved a break; Rainbow really didn’t want to drag Applejack away from her family after she’d only just returned to them. Penny would jump at the chance if Rainbow asked, but if Doctor Polendina found out, then he’d kill Rainbow’s career — or just kill Rainbow, depending on how he was feeling — and, to be honest, Low Town wasn’t exactly the kind of place for a nice girl like Penny.
Not to mention that all of the above had the disadvantage of being human — or looking human, in Penny’s case — while a faunus, especially a faunus of Blake’s background, would be a lot more help in finding out what was going on beneath the shadow of Atlas.
She doesn’t have to fight. She can just help me ask questions, talk to people, and I’ll break any heads we have to when we find out who’s responsible.
She doesn’t even have to come if she doesn’t want to.
But she’ll absolutely want to. With her sense of justice, she’d want to pitch in even if she was bleeding from a half-dozen bullet holes.
Rainbow put her scroll away and started her pre-flight checks.
“Sir,” Winter’s voice came in loud and clear over the comms. “We have Rainbow Dash on the line; she’s requesting to speak with you.”
Glad of the break, Ironwood minimised the report he’d been looking at — Captain Ebi was an exceptional huntsman, but he went through airships at a rate that was approaching ridiculous — and said, “Put her through to my office, Schnee; thank you.”
“Aye aye, sir,” Winter replied.
Ironwood was a little surprised when Rainbow’s face didn’t appear on the screen, projected up from his desk. However, he still heard her voice as clearly as if she were in the room with him.
“Hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time, sir.”
“Not at all, Dash; it’s good to hear your voice,” Ironwood said. “How are things up there?”
Dash was quiet for a moment. “It’s … been a bit of a mixed bag, I’m afraid, sir. I’m not sure Ciel’s doing too good.”
Ironwood frowned. He had always thought Soleil was the least likely member of Team RSPT to allow anything to get to her. “Cause?”
“Family trouble, sir; I’m not sure it’s my place to say more,” Dash replied. “Not to mention, we had a run in with the Happy Huntresses.”
“Was anyone hurt?” Ironwood said.
“No, sir,” Dash said. “Well, the guy they shot was more than hurt, but he wasn’t one of us, and he had it coming.”
Ironwood’s eyes narrowed, for all that he knew Dash couldn’t see it. “Do you want to tell me what you were doing at the scene of a murder committed by the Happy Huntresses, Dash?”
“We were trying to apprehend a murderer, sir — not the Happy Huntresses, the guy they shot — but it, well, it’s fair to say things didn’t quite work out.”
“I think you owe me a report on this, Dash,” Ironwood said.
“Yes, sir.”
“Anything else?”
“Penny’s back on her feet if you want some better news, sir,” Dash said, her tone brightening. “I’ve got something to talk to you about regarding Penny, but I’d rather discuss it in person.”
“Speaking of which, is there a reason I can’t see your face right now?”
“I’m flying, sir,” Dash answered. “Just had a weekend pass in Canterlot.”
“I see. How’s Scootaloo?”
“Very well, sir; thank you for asking.”
“Don’t mention it,” Ironwood said. “And Belladonna?”
“Settling in nicely, sir; I think we’ve got her hooked,” Dash declared. “Not that she’s a fish. Or that I’m scamming her. I just meant—”
“I know what you meant, Dash, and that’s good news,” Ironwood replied. “Atlas can use all the good men it can get, and huntresses like Belladonna are hard to come by. Now, did you call me just to catch up, or is there something I should know?”
“I’d like your permission to investigate some disappearances in Low Town, sir,” Dash said. “Faunus have been going missing, and I’d like to look into it.”
Ironwood frowned. “I haven’t heard anything about that.”
“Probably because it’s happening in Low Town, sir.”
“Then how did you hear about it, Dash?”
Dash hesitated. “Anonymous tip, sir?”
“Dash.”
“I’d really rather not say, sir,” Dash said. “But I trust the source.”
“And I trust you, Dash,” Ironwood murmured. “But if this is happening, why hasn’t it come to notice through any official channels; why hasn’t it been reported?”
“Because I’m sad to say that nobody trusts the authorities down there, sir,” Dash said. “Even if the police tried to investigate, people wouldn’t talk to them.”
“But they’ll talk to you,” Ironwood said. “Because you used to live there?”
“If they talk to me, sir, it won’t be because I used to live there,” Dash replied. “But I’m hoping they’ll look past that and talk to me because I’m a faunus. And I know the area, or at least I used to, which is more than anyone else who could look into this could say. And I was asked to handle this personally, and I gave my word that I would; I can’t just hand this off to someone else, especially when that someone might be busy, or not care, or have other things to pay attention to.” Dash paused. “And … may I speak freely, sir?”
“Go ahead, Dash.”
“If you trust me to fight Salem, I don’t see why you can’t trust me to investigate some disappearances,” Dash said.
Ironwood let out a small chuckle. “How can I argue with that? Okay, Dash, you can take the lead on this; anyone gives you any trouble, tell them to contact me. However, if your investigation turns up anything, I expect you to pass it back up to me before you act on your intel, understood?”
“Understood, sir.”
“And I hope you’re not thinking of taking this on by yourself,” Ironwood added.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir,” Rainbow said. “I’m on my way to get my backup right now.”
Weiss stood in her room with Myrtenaster drawn.
She had pushed the four-poster bed aside, and the dressing table and the little bench that sat in front of the bed, creating an open space on the pristine floor with its reflective blue tiles where she could practice her blade work.
She would not conjure glyphs, not right now. It might come later, but for now, she would only practice with the blade, practicing her stances.
She stood nearly against the wall, her rapier raised in a high guard, her free hand held out before her, pointing at a target she could see only in her mind’s eye.
She stepped forward, lunging with Myrtenaster, the tip of her blade gleaming in the light that streamed in from the window.
Weiss turned, spinning on her toe with the elegance and grace of a ballerina, slashing swiftly before raising her blade in another guard, her sword arm raised across her neck, Myrtenaster held at eye-level.
She lunged again, spun again, and was about to turn to face another imaginary opponent coming in on her flank when she saw that her door had been opened.
Whitley stood in the doorway, lounging against the door frame.
“Whitley!” Weiss squawked in surprise as she came to a stop. “What are you doing in here?”
“The door wasn’t locked,” Whitley observed.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t have some expectation of privacy!” Weiss declared.
Whitley raised one eyebrow. “Were you doing something that required privacy?”
Weiss lowered Myrtenaster. “I’m not sure what Father would say about me practicing inside the house.”
“If you think that Father will respect your privacy, then you’ve been away for too long,” Whitley observed. “And you do need to learn to lock the door.” He paused for a moment. “But your secret’s safe with me.”
Weiss took a deep breath. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “Was there something that you wanted?”
“Klein would like to see you downstairs, in the kitchen,” Whitley said.
Weiss frowned. “Klein would like to see me?”
“Yes. Isn’t that what I just said?”
“Since when do you deliver messages for Klein?”
Whitley rolled his eyes. “Just come down to the kitchen, won’t you? It might be important.”
“'Might be'?”
“Will you just come and see for yourself?” Whitley asked. “It will be easier than me trying to explain … well, I’m not sure that I could explain. I promise, you’ll be able to get back to flicking your sword around very soon. Probably.”
Weiss hesitated, but she was … somewhat intrigued by what had brought about this turn of events. It wasn’t usual for Whitley to run errands for the butler — the butler was supposed to serve them, not the other way around — and it wasn’t usual for Klein to summon her down to the kitchen either. She might visit him there, from time to time, but if Klein desperately wanted to talk to her, then there was no reason he couldn’t have come to find her in her room.
What was it that was down there, that Whitley couldn’t explain?
The only way to sate her curiosity was to actually go down to the kitchen to find out, so Weiss put Myrtenaster back in its wooden case with the glass lid and walked towards the door.
Whitley led the way, although Weiss could have found the way well enough without his assistance.
The Schnee Manor was spacious, absurdly so, with corridors that had been built for people on average ten to twelve feet tall — or so it seemed from the scale of the building — while the halls seemed made for people even larger still. Weiss was … not the tallest of girls, and Whitley was more or less of a height with her, so they were both dwarfed by the grand scale of the house in which they lived. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all a cool, almost icy blue, which gave the house a cold and almost sterile air. There was very little in way of decoration on the walls, no family portraits, no old masters, no paintings expensively acquired from the great artists of the day; only some giant suits of armour — nearing twenty feet in height, she thought, far too large for any living man to wear — standing on either side of the grand staircase, and a sculpture of a king taijitu, carved out of white marble, sitting in the centre of the hall.
It was a large house, and a quiet one too; in all this entire mansion, in all these hundreds of rooms, in this place that was as large as a small town, only Weiss, Whitley, her parents, and Klein lived — there were some other staff who worked occasionally, but none of them dwelt here, and there were certainly not enough of them to fill out this house.
This enormous space was largely empty, and being empty, it was largely silent; the footsteps of Weiss and Whitley echoed in the vast corridors, reverberating back at them in the absence of all other sounds.
Weiss remembered Laberna telling her that this house had rung with laughter and good cheer in her grandfather’s day … but that was a long time ago now, and just as long passed. Silence ruled here now.
The House of Schnee resembled more a tomb than the home of a living family.
But then, we never were much of a family, were we?
Below stairs, things felt slightly warmer, not least because the décor was different; white, such as tiled the kitchen walls, was not necessarily warmer than royal blue, but it felt warmer, although perhaps that was nothing more than Weiss’ imagination supplying things that were not strictly there, but which felt true.
It was warmer below stairs, not least for Klein’s presence.
Klein was in the kitchen as Weiss and Whitley entered, and so too, sitting at the white table which sat in the centre of the kitchen, was a young girl, a faunus with reddish-brown hair and raccoon ears, dressed in ragged homespun clothes, eating a cookie.
Eating it messily, with crumbs accumulating on both sides of her mouth.
Eating it ravenously, cramming it into her mouth as though she were afraid it would be snatched away from her at any moment.
She swallowed the last of the cookie and then grabbed the cup of some hot drink — it was steaming, but Weiss couldn’t make out what was inside — and swallowed a great draught of it.
“Careful,” Klein admonished her, although the reproach was undercut by the amusement in his voice. “We don’t want you to choke now, do we?”
The little girl put down the cup, and was about to grab for another cookie — a plate of them sat on the table — when she saw Weiss, and Whitley behind her.
She gasped. “M-Miss Winter?”
“No,” Weiss said. “I’m her younger sister, Weiss.”
“As I told you, child, Miss Winter doesn’t live here any more,” Klein said.
“Do you know how to reach her?” the little girl asked.
“We do,” Weiss allowed. “But she’s in Vale at the moment.”
“But I hope that Miss Weiss may be able to help you,” Klein added, turning away from the girl to look at Weiss.
Weiss raised one curious eyebrow.
“This young lady,” Klein said, “has come a very long way at great difficulty to be here, Miss Weiss. I would take it as a personal favour to me if you would hear her out.”
Weiss was silent for a moment, looking down at the girl in front of her. The way that she ate, the speed with which she ate … this was someone poor and hungry. The way she dressed, and unfortunately her race, they combined to make her stick out as someone who did not belong in the Schnee Manor.
But then, considering the state of the Schnee Manor, that might be something of a compliment.
She smiled; even if it was rather a public smile that didn’t reach her eyes, she hoped it would put the girl at ease. “Hello,” she said. “I’m Weiss Schnee. You wanted to see my sister, Winter?”
The girl nodded silently.
“I’m sorry that isn’t possible,” Weiss said. “But if you’d like to tell me your business, perhaps there is something that I or Klein or my brother can do to help instead.”
“I hate to say it, but I think you’re the only one who can likely do anything in this situation,” Whitley murmured.
Weiss ignored that, even as she wondered at it. To the girl, she said, “Would you like to tell me why you’re here?”
The girl hesitated for a moment, before words began to pour out of her in a great flood. “My older sister’s missing,” she said. “She disappeared the night before last, the same way that all the people are disappearing lately. Nobody knows where she is, nobody knows where any of them are, and the police aren’t interested, but my grandma said that Miss Winter would be able to help us. She said Miss Winter was a good person, who’d listen to me. Are you sure that she isn’t here?”
“Your grandmother,” Weiss murmured. “What’s her name?”
“Uh, Laberna Seacole.”
Weiss leaned back in her seat. Of course that’s who it is. Laberna Seacole had been their nanny when Weiss was a girl; with Mother and Father both busy with the work of the company and their position in Atlas society, the task of raising the children had often fallen on Klein and Laberna. She’d been dismissed when Weiss was nine — when Whitley was six years old, Father had decided that the children were too old to need a nanny to look after them — but Weiss still had many pleasant memories of the old woman: her patience, her encouragement, her wisdom.
In more recent years, she had found herself wondering — as she sometimes found herself wondering about Klein — how much of the affection she had received from Laberna had been because the old woman had been paid to bestow it upon her. There was no way to find out for sure, and to be honest, Weiss had come to the conclusion that it didn’t really matter: even if Laberna had only said what Weiss wanted to hear, it didn’t change the fact that she had given Weiss what she needed, when she needed it. Even if she’d just been doing her job, that didn’t change the fact that she had been a great help to Weiss in some rather troubled times.
And now her granddaughter was missing, and she was asking them for help. Well, technically, she was asking Winter for help, but Winter wasn’t here, and she wasn’t exactly able to leave her post in Vale and return to Atlas.
Now she understood what Whitley meant when he said that she was the only one who could do anything about this. It wasn’t as if her brother, untrained, bereft of the Schnee semblance, without even his aura unlocked, was going to be able to investigate disappearances in … whatever poor part of Atlas this girl had come from.
And Klein … Klein was a first rate butler, but he was not a warrior.
No, there was only Weiss.
The possibility that this was all some kind of elaborate trap did not escape Weiss’ mind; after all, she had no way of knowing that this girl really was the granddaughter of her old nanny, or that the old woman really had sent for her. This might have been a way to lure her out to grab her, although that would require them to know that she was here and Winter wasn’t. It was a possibility but somehow … somehow, she didn’t think it was a likely one.
From the way that he was looking at her, his eyes shining with hope, it seemed that Klein didn’t think it a likely possibility either. He had been close with Laberna, Weiss remembered; the two of them had understood each other, shared similar burdens, shared — she hoped — an affection for their Schnee charges.
He, it seemed, believed the girl, even if only because he wished to.
“It’s rather an absurd story to invent if it were not the truth, don’t you think?” Whitley said softly.
“It is true!” the Seacole girl insisted.
“I believe you,” Whitley assured her. “As I just said to my sister.”
He had a point, to be sure. What were the odds that some faunus girl, wholly unconnected with Laberna Seacole, would know that she had been employed by the Schnees, and would make their way to Schnee Manor, sneak inside and spin a yarn about needing assistance without it being true? What were the odds that any faunus girl unconnected with Laberna Seacole would expect any assistance from a Schnee? It was not as though their name was in good odour with the faunus at the moment.
It had to be true, because it was too improbable to be anything else.
“If you’d told me,” Weiss said, “I would have brought Myrtenaster down with me.” She looked down at herself, dressed in a gown of royal blue that reached all the way down to the floor. “Although perhaps I should change into something more suitable,” she added dryly.
To the Seacole girl, Weiss said, “I’m sorry that my sister Winter isn’t here at the moment, but I am a huntress of Beacon Academy, and I am going to assist you in my sister’s stead.”
It was the only thing she could do for Laberna Seacole.
Alright, it wasn’t the only thing she could do; she could — perhaps — have waved the Schnee name like a banner and forced the police to take notice of this disappearance. But she didn’t want to. She wanted to get out of this house, she wanted to do something useful and helpful, she wanted to be a huntress. She wanted to be a huntress, and there were people in need of her assistance, so why should she not — how could she not — leave the house and provide the help that they required and had requested of her?
“Klein,” she said, “will you keep our guest comfortable until I’m ready to leave?”
Klein smiled. “Of course, Miss Schnee.”
Weiss smiled back and turned around to see Whitley standing behind her with a bit of a smirk on his face.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“It’s funny,” Whitley said. “You’re undoubtedly being incredibly foolish, and yet, at the same time, I find I rather admire you for it. Try not to die, won’t you?”
It occurred to her that Whitley’s words to her upon arriving at the house might not have been as hostile as they had seemed; that he might, in a very poorly worded way, have been trying to express concern for her.
“I’ll do my best,” she said in reply.
“I don’t suppose there’s anyone who could go with you?” Whitley asked. “Someone suitable for this sort of thing, some durable barbarian who can, what’s the phrase, 'watch your back'?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know any durable barbarians,” Weiss said. “But as for company, I think I know just the person.”
She walked out of the kitchen — Whitley made way for her — and as she walked up the stairs towards the ground floor, Weiss got out her scroll.
It took only a moment for her to find the number that she was looking for, and only a moment more for him to answer.
“Hey Weiss, what’s up?”
“Flash, good morning,” Weiss said. “I’m afraid … this might sound sudden, but are you free at the moment? There’s something that I need your help with.”
“The First Councillor of Vale, Aspen Emerald, and the Mistralian Ambassador to Vale jointly announced that Vale and Mistral had agreed the purchase of two Mistralian battleships. However, sources in the Atlesian military cast down on the air-worthiness of the two ships and whether they could be made ready for service in more than a matter of months.”
“Turn that off, won’t you dear?” Mrs. Breeze said, looking up from watering one of her houseplants.
Mr. Breeze got up from his armchair and walked across the living room towards the radio. He paused, one hand hovering over the off-switch, before he turned to Blake. “Unless you’re listening to it, Blake?”
Blake shook her head. “No,” she assured him. “It’s fine.” She might have been content to listen to it further, but she was a guest in their home and had no desire to throw her weight around.
Mr. Breeze smiled at her and switched off the radio.
“It’s nothing but grim news at the moment, it seems,” Mrs. Breeze said. She was a middle-aged woman, a little taller than her daughter but more or less of a height with Blake herself, with maroon hair worn in a wide bun that emerged out past either side of her head. Square green spectacles surrounded her cerise eyes, and she wore a summer dress of daffodil yellow with a daisy print and a pearl necklace clasped tight around her throat. “Ever since that terrible business in Vale.”
“I don’t know,” Fluttershy said, from where she sat on the sofa next to Blake, her legs tucked up underneath her, cradling a fussy white bunny rabbit in her hands, seeming oblivious to all its attempts to escape her grasp. “I thought the news about the Vytal Festival was pretty good. Or at least, it could have been a lot worse.”
“I suppose,” Mrs. Breeze acknowledged. “Although the fact that they had to assure everyone that the festival would go ahead and be safe … well, it’s hardly ideal, is it?”
“That sort of thing used to be a given, after all,” Mr. Breeze added. He was taller than his wife, or indeed Blake, and seemed to cultivate a resemblance to Jacques Schnee, with his white hair and his thin, pencil moustache; it had honestly been a little disconcerting when Blake had seen him first, but thankfully, his dress made it easy to remember that he was not, in fact, Jacques Schnee.
She doubted Jacques Schnee wore ill-fitting jumpers that seemed to be on the cusp of shedding on the floor.
“True,” Blake admitted. “But I’m sure General Ironwood will keep everything under control.”
“Mmm,” Mister Breeze said, with less enthusiasm than Blake had expected.
Mrs. Breeze shook her head as she moved on to another of the many plants that filled the living room. “I just feel like Remnant is going backwards; Vale is buying new weapons, and Mistral is going to re-arm? Is everywhere going to become just like Atlas?”
“'Just like Atlas'?” Blake repeated. “Forgive me, but you make that sound like a bad thing.”
“Mom and Dad are Vytalists,” Fluttershy murmured. “They believe that Atlas should have disarmed after the Great War, like every other kingdom.”
Blake blinked. She kept her voice soft as she said, “That’s a thing?”
“That was the intent of the Vytal Treaty,” Mr. Breeze declared. “That every country would step down their militaries and disarm. Instead, Atlas has allowed every other kingdom to disarm while increasing its own military power. And then we wonder why people don’t trust us.”
Blake frowned. The argument made logical sense, she supposed, but she wasn’t so convinced that it made practical sense. “But … the threat of the grimm—”
“Is why the huntsman academies were founded,” Mr. Breeze pointed out. “We’re not naïve, and being sheltered safe in Atlas hasn’t made us blind; we just believe that if every other kingdom can manage, why can’t Atlas?”
“Every other kingdom manages because they can call on the assistance of Atlas, perhaps,” Blake said softly. “I have to say, this isn’t an attitude that I expected to find in Atlas, especially not from the parents of one of Rainbow’s friends.”
“I don’t entirely agree,” Fluttershy admitted, while the bunny squirmed and wriggled under her hand. Fluttershy continued to stroke and pet it regardless. “I think … well, I don’t know if I could express it myself, but Rainbow makes a good point about why Atlas does what it does.”
“And we would never suggest that Rainbow or the others have anything but the best intentions,” Mrs. Breeze added. “Or you for that matter.”
“Your courage must be tremendous, however wrongheaded the system you’re a part of,” Mr. Breeze said.
“I … see,” Blake murmured. Rather than argue their attitudes — she was, after all, a guest in their home — she asked, “Are there many of you? Vytalists?”
“Not too many,” Mr. Breeze admitted. “Not none, but not many. It’s not a club, you understand; we don’t all get together on weekends,” he chuckled, “But we do tend to vote for Vytalist candidates. Not that they win. It’s not a terribly popular attitude around here.”
“Not that it causes us any trouble,” Mrs. Breeze hastened to add.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Blake replied.
While she was not inherently opposed to persecuting people for their views — some views, after all, were vile and deserved to be stamped out of society by any means necessary — she didn’t believe that the Vytalism of Fluttershy’s parents fell into category. One kooky idea didn’t change the fact that they had been, throughout Fluttershy’s stay so far, perfectly nice people.
“Anyway,” Mr. Breeze said. “Who wants lunch? Fluttershy? Blake?”
There was a knock on the door.
“I’ll get it,” Mr. Breeze said as he left the living room and walked into the hall. Blake couldn’t see him, and didn’t try to see him there; rather, she looked at the bunny in Fluttershy’s arms, which was presently giving her the evil eye.
Or at least, that’s what it seemed like; it probably wasn’t actually that, because it was a rabbit at the end of the day, but it certainly seemed to be glaring at her as though she had caused grave personal offence.
Blake heard the front door open.
“Oh, hello, Rainbow Dash,” Mr. Breeze said.
“Good morning, sir,” Rainbow said. “Sorry to drop by unannounced like this, but can I come in? I need to talk to Blake.”
“Of course,” Mister Breeze said. “Come right in.”
Blake looked around as Rainbow walked into the living room. It didn’t escape her notice that Rainbow was armed.
“Rainbow? Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Morning, ma’am,” Rainbow said. “Hey Fluttershy.”
“Morning, Rainbow Dash,” Mrs. Breeze said. “How was Canterlot?”
Rainbow grinned. “The same as always; I had a great time with Scootaloo and the girls, thanks for asking.” At last, she looked at Blake. “Hey, Blake.”
“Hey,” Blake replied. “Is everything okay?”
Rainbow squirmed a little bit. “I … ma’am, can I talk to Blake in private for a second? I’m sorry, but—”
“It’s fine, dear; I needed some more water anyway,” Mrs. Breeze said, as she got up and carried her watering can out into the kitchen.
Fluttershy, on the other hand, did not get up.
“What’s going on, Rainbow?” she asked softly.
Rainbow kept her eyes on Blake. “I need your help with something,” she said.
“Rainbow Dash,” Fluttershy said, her voice sharp with reproach. “You know that Blake is here to rest, not to fight.”
“How do you even know that this has anything to do with fighting?” Rainbow asked.
“Because you wouldn’t be asking for Blake’s help specifically if it weren’t,” Fluttershy pointed out.
Rainbow hesitated for a moment. “Okay, you’ve got me there; it may have something to do with some action,” she admitted. “But this is all your fault anyway, because you gave Gilda my number.”
“I am sitting right here, you know,” Blake pointed out. “There’s no need to talk over me like I’m a child.”
Rainbow winced. “Sorry.”
“Gilda called you?” Fluttershy said. She smiled. “Oh, I’m so glad. Did you two manage to work things out?”
“Not really?” Rainbow said uncertainly. “I mean we don’t hate each other, but I wouldn’t call us friends. Anyway, the point is that she didn’t call to make up; she called to ask for my help. Faunus are disappearing down in Low Town — that’s underneath Atlas in the crater — and it sounds as though it could be abduction. Some friends of Gilda asked her to do something about it, and since she’s in Vale, she asked me to do something about it.”
“How does Gilda know that you’re not in Vale?” asked Blake.
“Because I’m really predictable, apparently,” Rainbow muttered. “The point is that I said I’d look into it and…” She sighed. “I know that you’re not here to fight, and I know that I shouldn’t be asking you, and if you say no that’s fine, but … there’s no one who it would be okay for me to ask. Applejack and Ciel are here for a break as well, and they aren’t even here in Atlas, and anyway, this is faunus business so … I’d appreciate your help with this.”
A slight smile crossed Blake’s face. “How long have you known me, and you really think that I need a sales pitch when there are people in need?”
“No, I didn’t,” Rainbow admitted. “But I didn’t want you to think that I was taking you for granted.”
“Blake,” Fluttershy murmured. “Are you sure about this?”
Blake got to her feet. “It isn’t why I came to Atlas,” she admitted. “But if there are faunus in trouble, faunus who need help and protection, then I can’t just stand by and do nothing.” She paused for a moment. “Do you think … might it have anything to do with—?”
“Adam’s face?” Rainbow finished for her. “It crossed my mind, but this sounds like something new. If the SDC had been abducting faunus from under Low Town for years now, I would have heard something about it. But I grew up there, and I never knew anything like this when I was a kid. But I guess we’ll find out when we get down there.”
“Right,” Blake agreed. “So, when do we leave?”
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Sunset's decision continues to be a very interesting wrinkle in the story and a very strong example of character motivations. Especially with Sunset being willing to address the question honestly, we see a hidden side of her.
You know, this is an odd time to bring this up, but you know how the two Brothers Grim in the flashback had deer antlers and ram horns? Does that mean that the gods of Remnant were faunus? Because if that were the case, then that would actually be a pretty good analogy to the "chosen" people of god(s) being constantly oppressed and tested, kinda similar to how historically, Jews have been oppressed despite them being considered the people of God.
And wouldn't that also be a twist? To learn that the ones that humanity have deemed "inferior" to them actually turn out to be made more in the likeness of their deities than even themselves.
And so the investigation begins. The scene with Blake and Sunset was very well done, and I'm happy to hear that Ruby's up. I don't know how successful Weiss and Flash will be compared to Dash, Blake, and Sun, but they have different resources they can pull from, so it'll be interesting to see what happens. Who knows, maybe some of the canon Team RWBY dynamic will come out with Weiss and Blake working together.
It's funny. Once I knew this favorite story of mine was going to have a major arc based on Grimm Eclipse, I figured I should probably buy the game and get familiar with the plot and setting.
So I did. Been playing it all week and it's been a lot of fun! Ruby's incredible area-of-attack and Weiss' insane levels of sheer DPS make them my favorites to play as so far! Moving on Pyrrha and Nora next!
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Teaming up Weiss and Blake (however briefly) is pretty much the point of this particular exercise
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I've almost finished a Pyrrha playthrough, currently on the penultimate level.
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One of the important dynamics of Team RWBY was Weiss learning to see the sympathy and plight of Blake's people, and Blake coming to have a Schnee as a friend. A great deal of that old dynamic will be found in this arc; with Weiss working to help many, many faunus and see what they've been put through in both Low Town and by Dr. Merlot, and Blake coming to trust Weiss as she works harder than any other human and in spite of her family name to fix this.
I can't wait!
I like how Sunset stays true to who she really is, not trying to “fit in” or something like that. Yes, she acted selfishly and chose her friends above all of Vale and she would make such a decision again and again, because that is just who she is. Sunset has no hero- nor martyr complex, like some of her friends, not fond of ideas like chasing some higher goal which is worth sacrificing one’s own life for, or dying for strangers she never met for that matter. She admits openly that she sabotaged the train herself to make sure they, her first real friends in life, would stay alive, even though she is risking that the very people she wants to protect may shun her for such a choice. Blake already admitted that she wouldn’t have stopped the train, but she is still buried in guilt and self-loathing, so she doesn’t think that she can judge another person anyway.
She told Blake the truth and it ended well enough, now it remains to be seen how the others will react. Well, Yang sure won’t mind that Sunset saved her little sister, so she will have at least one supporter.
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I agree that there's some nobility in Sunset sticking to her guns on making that decision. The part I'm not sure was so wise was admitting to it on a video call that's more than likely tapped, either by Atlas, Ozpin, or potentially even Cinder.
I can't think of a better group of people politically to help out in this crisis, especially for faunus human relations. Rainbow Dash a faunus who is a well standing member of the Atlesian military, Blake Belladonna a well respected former 2nd in command of the white fang and Weiss Schnee heiress to the Schnee dust company
I can't help but imagine how each of Sunset's friends would respond to knowing about Sunset destroying the train controls.
Ruby would hug her, and then just say "nope!" every time Sunset tries to say how she's sorry.
Jaune would be confused, then shrug and tell her that he trusts her judgement.
Pyrrha would be stunned, then she'd start crying. When Sunset would ask her why, Pyrrha would tell her, "I'd have stopped the train. I'd have sacrificed all our lives to protect Vale. I'd have sacrificed Ruby, and Jaune, and Blake, and you. If it'd been up to me, we'd all be dead. So... thank you. Thank you for making that choice for me."
Princess Twilight would tell her that she did the same thing when that choice was hers to make. (Lord Tirek, anyone?)
My imagination gets vivid sometimes.
If James Ironwood knew, he'd shake his head, then tell her that no seventeen year old should have been forced to make such a decision, but that regardless, he wouldn't be angry at her. "Maybe it was the wrong call to make, but you saved your team, and we saved the city. I won't judge you for it."
Ozpin would be really happy that all his chess pieces are still intact, and tell her that Sunset should always protect her team. He's really a big picture sort of guy, so losing the Invincible Girl, the Silver Eyed Warrior and an Equestrian Unicorn all at once would be WAY worse for his plans than Vale getting invaded.
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I'm not so sure about this one. There's a line in the Red Like Roses manga which Ruby calls back to a couple of times when she's about to die by deathstalker: 'the peace that endured for fifteen years was paid for with blood that was red like roses' and I think it shows that Ruby is willing to die and make sacrifices to preserve peace and protect the world, and she accepts that as something that a huntress has to be prepared to do (following the example of her mother, who did exactly that).
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And we shouldn’t forget that Ruby already admitted that she wants to be like a fabled hero, even if it means to sacrifice oneself. Same for Pyrrha. She is the kind of woman who was ready to face her very possible end in canon, even though she knew how powerful Cinder was. In RWBY she ignored Jaune’s plea not to go alone, instead she shoved him into a locker and sent him away. It was the moment Pyrrha was certain that she wouldn’t survive. Nobody had her back until it was too late, against somebody who killed Headmaster Ozpin himself, and she decided to go on her last solo mission, still. Pyrrha was ready to toss her life away from the start. Same when she decided to become their next Fall Maiden, fully aware that it most likely meant to sacrifice her desired dreams, as long as she could play her part for the “greater good”.
Sunset is like an anchor in this fic, always trying to keep them all in check before they are getting too eager for their own well-being. Selfish reasons or not.
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I've never read the manga plus its been a while since volumes 1-5 I've seen volume 6 so that's still in my mind.
So I gotta ask is something is this she knows has to do someday, or is she she ready and willing to do it if it happened
I see ruby sacrificing herself yeah but what about sacrificing others.
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This is the bit in the initiation where she's been pinned to the ground by the nevermore and the deathstalker is about to finish her off before Weiss saves her; in that moment she accepts her impending death with equinimity.
Question: When Blake crosses into the magical world of Equestria (which I am super HYPED about!), will she be going on her own by following Sunset's directions or will Sunset be heading up to Atlas to go with her?
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I see your point. and you're right. mostly. I'd just like to add one tiny little qualifier to that statement; noone sane. noone healthy. noone whole. yes, noone who still hopes. But hopelessness is no excuse for giving up. If you think it's hopeless to keep going, well, you might be right. You might be wrong, too. That's why I haven't left the party yet; I don't see anything good coming out of it, but I want to be wrong.
Even those who have lost hope still have it, if that makes any sense. we just hope to be wrong. We're so pessimistic and misanthropic that we can't see any way things could go right, but we want to be wrong, oh so desperately.
And you're right, I don't want to be alone in that way. I want to be alone in the way where I know there's people who want to help, but they also know when I'm about to snap, and are thus able to fuck off without me doing something we'd all regret later.
Unfortunately, I've got the soul-crushing kind, where people refuse to leave well enough alone, and I get punished for snapping, something i can only control in how it manifests.
Question; would it surprise anyone to hear that I've lost touch with the majority of my positive emotions?
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Trust me I know what you are talking about.
And living in 'Polish City of Suicide' doesn't help especialy when I heve different opinion then most people around me , every friend I've ever had betrayed me and my longest romantic relationship lasted 4 DAYS
Hmm. A continent conveniently devoid of any life that you don't need to be mind-bogglingly dead. Hey Luna, mind dropping a hunk of that moon over here?
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Ah, it would seem that we did address why she doesn't just telekinesis someone into a pretzel.
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Don't you mean Transfigureate?
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No, I mean telekineticly wrenching every joint on a person's body out of socket and then tying their body into a knot.
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I don't know where you're at in the latest chapter, but I have to add here that it's one thing to sacrifice yourself and another to sacrifice someone else. Ruby may be at peace with her own death should it happen, but, if she thinks about, I can't see her being too mad at Sunset for not being willing to sacrifice the team. It's two different things.
"Ok google. Define Canadians' INT-R in one line"
P.S.: I'm Canadian lolz
I know this only minutely fits the description of Principal Cinch, but I still can't picture anyone but her. And her voice fits the character so well too!
Here we go!
One of the things I love about this rewrite is how Weiss has received much more attention for her character’s depth and development. She had a great role in this investigation before, and I’m looking forward to what else there will be! Not to mention how the newly introduced perceptions in both Blake and Rainbow Dash will react to what they’ll be going through here.
Also, Sun isn’t present this time (which I’m surprisingly relieved about).
EDIT: I also wonder if anything regarding the SDC branding will be brought up between Blake, Rainbow Dash, and now Weiss. After all, RD called Councilwoman Cadence about it months ago, and at the time she was utterly confident that would fix it. Because Atlas was Atlas.
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The branding was mentioned again in the chapter 'The Atlas That Can Be', where Cadance explained that her investigation keeps running into dead ends on account of people dying or committing suicide.
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I remember. And I also recall how a few arguments and issues come to a head as Blake argues with Weiss in this arc, getting the Schnee daughter's side of the story (and at the same time, this arc forces the Schnee Heiress to reflect as well). Even Rainbow Dash might take this as an opportunity ask/confront her about why the SDC still gets to do this and get away with it, to the point she even fears for Cadence's life.
And Weiss is more than aware of how capable and amoral her father is, having even requested his influence over the media machine to magically wash away the accusations and rumors of her team being made of racists. Here, her character arc has the opportunity to develop further as well as show them that she is not like her father. How else can they later become dear friends?
EDIT: I just double-checked "The Atlas That Can Be" for extra details. Cadence even asked Rainbow Dash for help in looking for leads.