SAPR

by Scipio Smith

Take It Up To the Top (New)

Take It Up to the Top

“Yes!” Leaf yelled. “Yes, we’ve got another shot!”

Veil leaned away from her on the couch a little bit. “First of all, who is this ‘we,’ and second of all, what do ‘we’ have another shot at?”

“We the faunus, obviously,” Leaf said. “We’ve got another shot at taking her down a peg.” She shrugged. “Or just taking her down, really.”

“Oh, right,” Veil said evenly.

“Come on, I’m allowed to not like her,” Leaf said. “I’m allowed, and nobody can tell me different.”

“It’s her family’s company, but it isn’t her company,” Veil pointed out. “It wasn’t even her old man.”

“The S they were going to burn into my flesh doesn’t stand for snowflake,” Leaf pointed out. “And besides … just look at her. She … don’t you find her annoying?”

“No,” Veil said. “No, I don’t.”

“Well, I do,” Leaf muttered as she got out a cigarette.

“Hey!” Veil said.

“I’m not going to smoke it,” Leaf said defensively. “I just … when I don’t have one, I struggle to work out what to do with my hands, that’s all.” She started twiddling the cigarette between her fingers, spinning it around as she hunched forward to get a better look at the TV.

“Okay,” Veil murmured. She raised her voice a bit as she went on, “You know she’s a friend of Rainbow Dash and Blake.”

Hunched forward the way she was, Leaf had to turn her head and look over her shoulder to get a glimpse of Veil. “Who?”

“The rightful king of Mantle, Weiss Schnee, who else?”

Leaf frowned, or almost scowled really. “You’re kidding me.”

Veil shook her head. “They’ve been seen together. Some people are saying that the whole thing with the camps was staged to make the SDC look bad.”

“I was there, it was absolutely not staged, and anyway, how does that follow from Blake and Rainbow being friends with Weiss Schnee? I mean, if they were faking making the SDC look bad—”

“Yeah, it doesn’t make much sense,” Veil agreed. “I think the idea is that Blake and Rainbow were faking it, and now that the fake is over, they’re such bad actors that they’re letting the mask slip and everyone can see they’re really all good friends with the people they were supposed to be busting, but I don’t buy that; it’s a big reach. And then you get some people — who I think are far too close to being White Fang sympathisers, but anyway — who say it proves that your friends aren’t really looking out for faunus at all; they’re cosying up to human power. I don’t buy that either.”

“So what do you think?”

“I think it means that Weiss Schnee isn’t responsible for what her family company does, or did, and that your friends are smart enough to know that, and … and they know her well enough to like her as a person. At least a little.”

Leaf didn’t say anything for a second. She turned away from Veil for a little bit, so that she was again looking more at the TV than she was at her roommate.

Was that right, what she’d said about Weiss Schnee? Was it right that Blake and Rainbow were friends with her?

Was it right that they were friends with her because they knew that she didn’t have anything to do with any of the stuff that the SDC had been doing?

Was Leaf being too hard on her?

Maybe. Maybe I should ask them.

No, I don’t want to distract Rainbow before the big fight, and … Blake’s probably busy too. Somehow. Organising a big festival like this probably takes a lot of work for everyone.

Or maybe they have final exams. That happens at the end of a school year, doesn’t it?

I’ll talk to them when they get back to Atlas. I’ll ask them about this being seen with Weiss Schnee and what it’s all about.

It’ll be nicer in person, we can go … to somewhere other than a Snowburger. Like that cake place they said their friend works at.

I’ll ask them in person.

Until then…

“I’d still rather she lost,” Leaf said. “I mean, Neon’s pretty cool, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” Veil said. “She’s rad. Hey, since you know celebrities, do you think they could introduce us to her?”

“To Neon?”

“Yeah,” said Veil. “I mean, they’re all at the same academy, so they must know each other.”

“Probably, but I don’t know if I want to … you know.”

Veil sighed. “Yeah, that’s fair enough, I guess.”

“So, after all that, you hope that Weiss Schnee loses too?” Leaf asked for clarification. “After making out like I shouldn’t want that.”

“I want her to lose because I really like the girl she’s up against,” Veil said. “You want her to lose because of her family name. We are not the same.”

---

“Weiss put herself through to the finals,” Mallard said. “And she’s the first one up to fight, up against some Atlas girl.”

“There aren’t that many Atlas girls,” Martinez said. “So which is it? Rainbow Dash, Ciel Soleil, Neon Katt—”

“Yeah, her,” Mallard said. “Neon Katt.”

Martinez glanced over at where Mallard had his scroll out. He wasn’t watching the livestream of the match, but he did have the VNN live feed open feeding him continuous updates from the sports correspondent at the Colosseum.

The latest update was the one about Weiss, complete with headshots of her and her opponent.

“Put that away,” she told him. “We’re supposed to be working here.”

“I wasn’t gonna watch the match, boss,” Mallard protested. “I just wanted to check up, see how she was doing.”

“Okay, but all the same, we have a job to do,” Martinez said. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I wish her luck, but we can’t take our eyes off the ball here. If this power plant gets hit, if it goes down, that’s like … that’s a blackout across half the city.”

“Thirty-five percent,” Mallard murmured.

“Whatever, it’s a lot,” Martinez said. This was the biggest power plant in Vale, after all. “So we need to stay focussed and not get distracted.”

All the same, go get her, Weiss.

You got this.

---

Blake groaned and put her head in her hands for a second.

“Blake, honey?” Mom asked, putting her hand upon Blake’s shoulder. “Are you feeling okay?”

Blake raised her head again, brushing her long hair off her shoulders where it had fallen down. She was back in Councillor Cadance’s box again today, with her Atlas friends and their little sisters, along with Cadance and Shining Armor, of course. Blake had seen Ciel on the way up, but the latter wasn’t with them now; she was outside.

“I’m not feeling sick, Mom,” Blake explained. “Although that draw did make my stomach flip a little bit; it’s … another faunus? Weiss is going up against another faunus, this … is this some kind of sick joke? Is someone rigging the draw so that Weiss gets the worst possible match-ups?”

“No!” Twilight cried. “In order to rig the draws, you’d need to hack into the CCT, which … hasn’t happened.”

Not for want of trying, Blake thought, and wondered if Cinder had at some point planned to rig the tournament matches. She wasn’t sure why Cinder would want to do that, and there was no evidence that she had — it wasn’t as though there weren’t plenty of other, more dangerous things she could have done after planting a virus in the CCT — but since Twilight had made the connection, that was what her mind wandered too.

Not that it mattered. As Twilight had implicitly reminded her, the virus that Cinder had sought to implant in the CCT was gone. It was possible that there were other viruses, but not likely.

And, as she herself had just thought, why use it to rig the tournament match-ups when you could do so much more once you were inside the network?

If you could hack the CCT, wouldn’t you have better things to do than annoy Weiss by making her fight faunus after faunus?

This was just bad luck for Weiss.

Absolutely terrible luck.

“Why is that bad?” Scootaloo asked. “So, her opponent is a faunus, but—”

“Because of what happened in the last match!” Sweetie Belle declared. “Don’t you remember the way they all booed her? That’s 'cause she beat a couple of faunus, and … because of … that other thing I don’t quite get.”

“Ain’t much to get,” Applejack said. “Miss Schnee down there’s just gettin’ the blame for somethin’ that ain’t her fault.”

“And now it will happen again,” Blake moaned.

“Perhaps,” Rarity murmured. “Perhaps, if Miss Schnee triumphs now, the mood of the crowd will start to turn. At some point, surely they have to start admiring her skill and tenacity.”

“Do they?” Blake asked. “That would be great, but I’m not so sure.”

“I’m afraid it may be all she has to hope for,” Mom said. “After all, there isn’t anyone, not even me, who can order the crowd to change their mind.”

“It’s best if you don’t make a public spectacle of yourself here,” Cadance said. “Especially—”

“I know, I know, security and my safety, I understand,” Mom said. “But it might change a few minds.”

“Weiss wouldn’t want you to put yourself at risk for her sake,” Blake said. “She’s pretty tough. Tough enough to handle a hostile crowd.”

“Tough enough to handle her opponent?” asked Mom.

“I’d say so, yes,” Blake said. “Neon’s fast, but Weiss has a lot of versatility.”

“But she needs a little bit of a wind-up, from what Ah’ve seen,” Applejack commented. “If Neon can get on her fast enough, she might find herself in some real trouble.”

“Conjuring her glyphs doesn’t take Weiss long,” Blake replied. “Barely any time at all.”

“Neon don’t need hardly no time at all,” Applejack muttered.

Rarity folded her arms. “Why you and Rainbow Dash have any time at all for that sharp-tongued little minx, I have no idea. I’d like to see her get taken down a peg or two.”

“You know her?” asked Mom.

“We’ve met, unfortunately,” Rarity muttered.

“Come on, Rarity; she wasn’t that bad!” Pinkie said.

“That is very easy for you to say, Pinkie Pie, you’re not the one she called prissy and stuck-up.”

“Weeeeeeell, you did tell her off for eating with her hands,” Pinkie pointed out.

Rarity drew in a deep intake of breath. “Knives and forks were invented for a reason,” she said, in a voice that was at the same time soft and sharp.”

“She had a very … forceful sense of humour,” Fluttershy whispered.

“Neon can be a bit of an acquired taste,” Twilight said tactfully. “Like … marmite.”

Mom frowned. “Like what?”

“You haven’t had marmite?” Twilight asked. “You have to try some—”

“No, she really doesn’t,” Pinkie said. “We don’t want to make Blake’s mom hate Atlas!”

“Neon is a brave huntress, and you know she’ll have your back if you get in trouble,” Applejack said. “It’s just that, outside of trouble, she can … sometimes like to cause trouble. But she’s pretty good at what she does. Maybe better’n Miss Schnee down there.”

“Really?” Kali murmured. “I suppose we’ll find out very soon, won’t we?”

---

Weiss considered herself to be self-possessed and in control. She had been brought up to be the master of her emotions, not to engage in showy outward demonstrations of the same. She was calm, she was collected, she did not make an exhibition of herself — except when her father wished to make an exhibition of her.

But, all the same, if there had been a wall in front of her at this very moment, Weiss would have been sorely tempted to ram her head against it repeatedly.

Another faunus? Another faunus!? Another faunus who would no doubt despise her for her family name, who would sneer at her and snarl at her and who would, when defeated as Weiss meant to defeat her, make Weiss look like even more of a bully than she already did through no fault of her own and incur even more distaste from those watching!

It possibly made her seem a little prejudiced to complain so about having a faunus opponent, but, really, that had nothing to do with it.

She just thought that she might get an easier ride beating a human. Like Yang, Yang wouldn't have aroused much in the way of crowd sympathy, and she would, with no disrespect intended, been an easy fight to boot.

Yang probably would have seen disrespect where none was intended if she had heard Weiss' thought, but it was simply a matter of Yang's approach being … limited, compared to all that Weiss could do with her hereditary semblance.

The same thing no doubt applied to Neon Katt, but Weiss' victory over Yang would not have been interpreted through the prism of race the way it would be here.

Another faunus. What had she done to deserve this?

"Will all other finalists please clear the field?" Professor Port asked, his voice echoing across the arena, rising above the mingled boos and jeers that had greeted the announcement of Weiss as one of the two combatants.

Most of the finalists turned away and began to troop out of the arena, back into the tunnel the way they had all come on just a moment before. Pyrrha lingered a second, looking at Weiss.

"Good luck," she said, a slight smile upon her face.

Weiss gave a bow of the head. "Thank you, Pyrrha."

Pyrrha turned away and followed after the others, the sash on her waist swaying a little with her long, striding steps.

Rainbow Dash had also remained, looking from Weiss to Neon, then back at Weiss.

She gave Weiss a thumbs-up and then joined Pyrrha making her way off the battlefield.

Neon threw out her arms, gasping in apparent exasperation as Rainbow left. She turned to follow Rainbow, before turning back to face Weiss.

"Will you look at that?" she demanded. "Will you look at that, we're from the same school, we're supposed to be comrades, but she blows me off like she doesn't know me so that she can suck up to you? What price solidarity, huh? What price loyalty?"

Weiss rolled her eyes. "Perhaps I've just got a more charming personality than you?"

Neon recoiled as though she had been stung. "Ouch! Maybe it should have been you I pretended to kidnap for the White Fang.”

"I'd rather you had," Weiss growled. "I was worried sick about Flash — and you've just reminded me that I never got the chance to thank you."

There was a rumbling sound from deep beneath their feet, up from the bowels of the Amity Colosseum, as the entire arena floor, everything surrounding the central hexagon on which they stood, retracted inwards, sliding beneath the stands like … Weiss found that she struggled to say what it was like, because it was really like nothing that she had ever seen before. Below them was a flat surface of slate grey, the same colour as the hexagon on which they stood, marked with the symbols of the four academies: the wreathed twin axes of Beacon, the spear and gear of Atlas, the winged lantern of Haven, the three swords of Shade.

It was a surface to which they descended as the hexagon on which they stood was lowered towards it. It did not touch the surface beneath, but they were lower down now than they had been in any previous match in the tournament.

“Do you mean that you’re actually going to thank me for the way that I totally kept your boyfriend alive—”

“He’s not—” Weiss started, but Neon rode roughshod over her.

“During a difficult situation—”

“That you caused!”

“Or is that a euphemism for you trying to kick my ass?”

“Of course I’m going to try and…” Weiss cleared her throat. “That. We are in a tournament, after all.”

“Really, and here I thought we were going on a date,” Neon said, fluttering her eyelids at Weiss while a particularly feline smirk crossed her mouth.

Weiss rolled her eyes again.

“Keep doing that, and they’ll roll right out of your head,” Neon pointed out.

“Then perhaps you should stop giving me cause,” Weiss muttered.

Neon sniggered and started stretching. “You’ll be glad to know, Miss Schnee, that I am not here for all the faunus.” She pointed at Weiss. “I’m only here for you, you little snow bunny.”

Weiss frowned. “'Snow bunny'?”

“Yeah!” Neon cried, as though it was self-explanatory. “They’re white and cute and really tiny, just like you.”

“Rea—?” Weiss sputtered indignantly. “I am not that short!”

“Oh, sure you’re not,” Neon replied mockingly. “What are you without those heels on, four foot flat?”

Weiss’ eyes narrowed. “Five feet.”

“Ooh, my mistake; you’re a regular giant, aren’tcha?” Neon asked.

“Meanwhile you are—”

“Impertinent?” Neon suggested. “Insolent.”

“Uncouth, for certain,” Weiss said. “Verging upon rude.”

Neon put one hand on her hip. “And you’re a little princess, coasting by on Daddy’s money and Grandpa’s name.”

“Three!” Professor Port declared.

Weiss put one hand on the hilt of Myrtenaster. “I am not coasting by on anything!”

Neon’s grin got wider; she leaned forwards, hunching her back a little. “Then show me what you’ve got, snow bunny.”

“Two!” Professor Port boomed out.

Weiss bared her teeth in a growl that verged upon unseemly, if it wasn’t already. “I will.”

“One!” Professor Port yelled out, his voice echoing around the Colosseum. “Fight!”

Weiss began to draw her rapier—

Neon closed the distance between them, a rainbow trail streaking behind her as she skated across the surface of the hexagon, still grinning away, and punched Weiss in the face.

Weiss’ face snapped sideways, her side ponytail flapping around to slap Neon in the face, the cheers of the crowd ringing in Weiss’ ears as she staggered back a step, hand slipping from Myrtenaster slightly.

Neon followed up with a punch to the gut; Weiss doubled over, a gasp of pain escaping her just in time for her mouth to be open as she caught another blow to the jaw, twisting her mouth in a rictus caught lovingly on camera and broadcast live across Remnant.

Weiss tried to retreat, staggering sideways, but Neon didn’t let up, didn’t give her one second to breathe, still less to conjure up a glyph. She grabbed Weiss by the head and forced her face down into Neon’s padded knee as it rose to meet her.

Pain flared through Weiss’ aura as she lunged forward, fumbling blindly with both hands, grabbing at the fabric that she felt with her fingertips, wrapping one another the bare skin that she could feel in front of her.

Neon’s fists fell upon her back like hammers as Neon slid backwards, dragging Weiss along the ground like a toy, but although Weiss could feel her aura dropping, it wasn’t as disconcerting for her as Neon’s initial onslaught.

She had the space to think.

More importantly, she had the space to conjure.

Using her semblance didn’t require a lot of thought nowadays — the days when she had had to really concentrate were behind her now — but any kind of thought was difficult when you were getting pummelled in the face. But now, now, she was only getting pounded on the back, which was hurting her aura but wasn’t taking all her attention in the same way.

Weiss clung onto Neon as she conjured up the black glyph beneath her feet, only letting go as the glyph launched her upwards, flying past Neon up into the air overhead. Her attempt to kick Neon in the face as she went past didn’t land, unfortunately; she didn’t have much hand-to-hand training, but she did have the gymnastics training to spin gracefully in the air, ponytail whirling around her head like a dancer’s ribbon, to land upon the second black glyph that she conjured, angled downwards like a spotlight, sticking her in place looking down upon the battlefield.

And upon her opponent, who launched herself up into the air in turn with a mighty kick that sent herself rocketing upwards.

But she’s slower in the air than she is on the ground.

Weiss drew Myrtenaster in one hand, and she thrust the other out in Neon’s direction as though she were bidding her to stop.

In actual fact, she was conjuring up a third black glyph right in Neon’s path, a glyph into which the Atlesian student slammed fist first followed by the rest of her body, before bouncing off it to slam back down onto the grey surface of the hexagon.

“Weiss Schnee scores her first hit!” Professor Port cried. “Can she keep it up?”

Watch me, Professor, Weiss thought.

Watch me, all of you.

Hate me if you wish, but don’t deny my talent.

With a flick of a button, the chamber in Myrtenaster cycled around until the light blue hard-light dust was chambered and ready.

Still standing half upside down upon her glyph, her ponytail drooping downwards, hair tickling one side of her face, Weiss swept her needle-like blade backwards in a high guard, poised to lunge from over her shoulder at any foe who came in range.

Although any foe was probably more worried about the array of gleaming white glyphs that began to appear behind Weiss: five, at first, then nine, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, a line of glyphs as solid as an old-fashioned army formed for battle, arranged like honeycombs as they spread outwards on either side of Weiss like shining wings.

Wings that could shoot more than feathers.

And all of them pointed downwards towards the arena surface and Neon Katt.

Weiss swept Myrtenaster around, gesturing imperiously downwards as laser beams began to leap from her glyphs, falling like a hard rain, blown by fierce winds sweeping down out of the farthest north, upon her opponent. The sheer number of laser beams were blinding to her; Weiss could see little but the streaks of light blue, coming so rapidly that they were almost a blur to her, as much a blur as the streak of rainbow light that started to engulf the battlefield as Neon desperately tried to stay one step ahead of the descending firestorm.

This was draining to Weiss’ aura; Weiss only needed to raise her head a little bit to see it on the screen, dropping down into the yellow as a consequence of her semblance use and of Neon’s earlier attacks on her, but it was only if her aura got into the red that she needed to worry, and if she won the battle, then it would be worth it.

As much to the point, Neon’s aura was dropping too, despite her running; Weiss was hitting her as she covered the field in fire, and with Neon’s speed, she might have risked more than she stood to gain by descending straight back down into the fray.

I could match, or even surpass, her semblance with a time dilation glyph, but once the effect wore off, I’d be at an even greater disadvantage than before, if only momentarily.

And why take the risk, when I can hammer her from above the fray like this?

Neon’s aura had been in a considerably healthier state than Weiss’ own when she had begun her barrage, but as the laser fire swept past her on both sides, Weiss took comfort — and no small amount of satisfaction — from the fact that Neon’s aura was dropping to the point where they were almost even, due to a combination of Weiss’ bombardment and Neon’s own use of her semblance to try and avoid it. Between the two of them, thanks to the visual effects of Neon’s semblance and the light show that Weiss was creating with hers, it was difficult to see what was going on down there; everything was just a blur of refracted light.

So much of a blur that she didn’t see the pair of nunchucks, glowing with the hazy yellow of lightning dust, flung out of the blur of light — and it didn’t help that they were coming in from the left, where her vision, and especially her peripheral vision, had been a little weak ever since her father’s ‘test’ against the arma gigas — towards her. Weiss tried to conjure up another glyph to stop it in its tracks, but she was too late. The spinning nunchucks slammed into her, one hitting her in the shoulder, the other in the side of the head, and both of them unleashing a wave of lightning that rippled up and down her entire body, crackling and snapping as it devoured her aura.

Weiss’ hands trembled; she barely retained her grip on Myrtenaster; wordless gibberish dribbled out of her mouth as her whole body shook like a mountainside before an avalanche. Perhaps the impact would have knocked her off her perch in any case, but she wouldn’t know, because all her glyphs dissolved around her, including the one on which she was standing.

Weiss dropped, head first, like a rock towards the ground.

She didn’t have a lot of time; with her still-twitching thumb, Weiss cycled from hard-light dust to ice, pointing her sword downwards — the point of the blade shook just a little — and firing multiple blasts downwards at the ground until it was not a flat, grey, surface beneath her but a miniature lake of ice, spiky and rippling and uneven, spreading outwards from the epicentre like waves, or like the unfolding petals of a flower.

Weiss had just enough time to conjure up a black glyph to break her fall before she landed heavily on the ice — and a good thing, too; she didn’t have unlimited aura to go around making lots of hard landings.

She had just about regained her feet, the ice crunching beneath her wedge heels, when Neon charged in at her, more like a bull than a cat, a rainbow trailing out behind her — until she reached the ice. Neon’s roller skates, which served her very well on the flat surface of the central hexagon, were a hindrance on the uneven, slippery icy surface, with icicles erupting outwards and an undulating wavelike pattern. She couldn’t move, or at least not swiftly; she was forced to hobble, leaning back and waddling on the heels of her skates like some sort of scantily-clad penguin, arms out for a degree of extra balance.

And Weiss sprang into the attack.

She levelled Myrtenaster at her opponent, using the last of the ice dust in the canister for a blast that struck Neon on the leg, encasing it in ice, fusing it with the ice that already covered the arena surface. Then Weiss conjured a line of silver-white glyphs between her and Neon, gliding gracefully over them, sword levelled straight at her.

Neon twisted and squirmed, showing amazing flexibility despite the fact that one of her legs was frozen to the ground, and as Weiss glided past her, she reached out and grabbed Weiss by the wrist, trying to twist Myrtenaster out of her hand.

Weiss didn’t let go, but Neon was able to use her grip on her arm to toss Weiss aside. Weiss conjured another black glyph, balancing on it for a moment before launching herself back at Neon, flying past her instead of straight at her this time, slashing at her flank as she passed by.

Weiss landed upon her ice field, skidding a little as she whirled around to face Neon once more. She didn’t use glyphs this time; she kept her feet upon the ice as she thrust her slender blade out at Neon once, twice, three times; again and again, Myrtenaster flickered forth, the light shining upon the metal, and again and again, Neon contorted her body, leaning this way or that, tugging against the ice that held her bound, bending in this or that way to let the point pass by her. Weiss always drew it back before Neon could make another effort to wrench the sword out of Weiss’ hands, just as she always stood sufficiently far back to stay out of reach of Neon’s punches.

But it was clear that she wasn’t going to win this with the blade.

And the ice that was holding Neon’s leg in place was starting to crack.

The cylinder of Myrtenaster rotated again, to red fire dust this time.

The ice that restrained shattered into shards as Neon wrenched her leg free.

Weiss fired before she could move, hitting Neon square in the chest and blasting her backwards — into a cage of black glyphs, six in all, which Weiss conjured on all sides of her, containing her in mid-air with no room to move.

Weiss could have sworn that she heard someone cheer at that.

Or perhaps, as she let a sigh escape from between her lips and dabbed at her brow with one hand, she had simply imagined it.

She glanced at her aura level up on the board. She was not amply supplied with it, being in the yellow, but considering that she had just immobilised her opponent, that shouldn’t be too much of an issue.

She just needed to decide what she was going to do with Neon now. Contained was not defeated, after all, and there was no clock for her to wait out. Well, she supposed that, at some point, Professor Port and Doctor Oobleck might call time on a match that was going nowhere, but that might be a while coming, and it would be better if she could think of a way to progress from caging Neon to either ringing her out or else bringing her aura down below the limit.

“You don’t know what to do next, do you?” Neon asked, contorting her body that Weiss could see at least some of her face. She was smiling for some reason.

“It will come to me,” Weiss said airily.

“Maybe,” Neon said.

“I would certainly rather be in my position than yours right now,” Weiss declared.

“I don’t know, these things, what do you call these?”

“Glyphs.”

“Whatever they are, they’re surprisingly comfy,” Neon said. “Nicer than the Beacon mattresses. Firm, you know, they don’t feel like they’re about to swallow you up.” She yawned. “Maybe I’ll just lie back and go to sleep; I haven’t been sleeping too well. I’ve been angry at somebody, and it’s been keeping me up with thoughts of resentment.”

“I don’t know whether to believe a word that comes out of your mouth,” Weiss muttered.

Neon cackled. “Well, you know what they say?”

Weiss frowned a little. “What do they say?”

“A lot of things, and most of it isn’t true,” Neon replied. She paused for a second. “That semblance of yours is pretty sweet.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s hereditary, isn’t it?” Neon asked.

Weiss licked her lips; she had a feeling of what might be coming next, but nevertheless, she could not help but say, “Yes, it is.”

“So you really are literally coasting on your family’s accomplishments,” Neon said. “You’ve got nothing to call your own, not even your semblance.”

“This is my semblance!” Weiss snapped, taking a step forward, and then another, and another, leaving the field of ice behind as she advanced upon the caged Neon. “Yes, it was passed down to me from my grandfather, but it is still mine, a reflection of my soul, my soul and my determination to…” She stopped. “I don’t know why I’m even bothering to reply to you.”

“Because you’ve got nothing better to do?” Neon asked. “Unless you have plans?”

“I—”

“You know, I don’t think I will lie around here all day,” Neon said idly. “I’ve got better places to be.”

“You do realise you're stuck in there, right?”

“Am I, Miss Schnee?” Neon asked. “Am I?”

“Yes,” Weiss said flatly.

Neon shrugged. “We’ll see,” she said as she crossed her arms across her chest and began to breathe in and out very slowly. “We will see.”

Her breathing slowed even more, her chest rising and falling beneath her arms with a rhythm that was as gentle as the waves on the calmest of calm days.

Weiss’s eyes narrowed. What was she doing? What did she hope to accomplish by this?

She couldn’t feel her glyphs, they weren’t connected to her in that way, what she did with them didn’t affect her, they were creations of her aura, but they were not a part of her. Maybe, if they had been, Weiss would have felt something. Instead, she had no idea what Neon was doing until a blinding burst of rainbow light erupted out of her in all directions. Neon’s aura dropped deep into the yellow as she expended it on a massive outward burst that shattered Weiss’ glyphs.

In a single bound, Neon was free, and Weiss was in front of her.

Weiss started to retreat, but Neon was faster; Neon was on Weiss like a cat on a snow rabbit, fist drawn back to strike Weiss on the jaw so hard that she was lifted off the ground and sent flying through the air.

For a moment, Weiss could think of nothing but the blow, could do nothing but pinwheel through the air, tumbling over and over, nothing but fly beyond the edge of the hexagon and begin to drop towards the floor beneath.

The floor that would eliminate her if she touched it.

No! Not like this! I need to redeem my name with valour, just like Pyrrha said!

Weiss flung out her free hand, conjuring a black glyph on which she landed, on which, she had to admit, she flopped onto her back, like a training mat.

The crowd gasped, and then a ragged cheer rippled unevenly through the arena.

Are they cheering because they think I lost or because I didn’t?

Weiss climbed to her feet, careful not to fall off her glyph. She conjured a few more, as few as she dared given the state of her aura, a stairway of swirling black glyphs turning lazily round and round beneath her feet as she stepped lightly from one to the other, disappearing behind her as she climbed back, not onto the central hexagon, but level with it, a few feet away from the ledge, where she could see Neon standing with her back to Weiss, arms raised triumphantly, basking in the adoration of the crowd.

Weiss cleared her throat. “A little premature, don’t you think?”

Neon twirled around, her tail wrapping around her waist. “Huh? But you—”

“That’s right, folks,” Professor Port said, “even if a contestant is ejected from the battlefield, they are only eliminated by ring out if they touch the ground beyond. This match isn’t over yet!”

“Yes,” Weiss said, “that.”

Neon stared at her for a second. One blue eye twitched as her face twisted into a scowl. “That … that is—”

“Now you know how I feel,” Weiss remarked. She swept her sword up in a salute-like gesture as she cycled from fire dust to lightning. Overlaid on top of the glyph on which she stood, she began to conjure a second glyph, a yellow glyph, with the hands and fingers of a clock.

A time dilation glyph.

I’ve only got enough aura for one more attack, so I’d better make it count, Weiss thought.

The hands of the clock turned slower, and slower … and slower … until they stopped.

Weiss moved faster than Neon now; to the outside world, she would have seemed a blur as she cycled back from lightning dust to fire dust.

Weiss launched herself through the air, soaring on a line of white glyphs across the gap separating her from the battlefield, across the stage itself and finally slamming into Neon Katt shoulder first, firing all the fire dust in the cylinder at her as she went, all so fast that Neon could not dodge, could not respond, could not do anything at all as it became her turn to be launched backwards and off the field.

And she did not have a glyph to catch her.

“Neon Katt has been eliminated by ring out!” Professor Port boomed. “Weiss Schnee of Beacon wins the match and will progress onward!”

For a moment, the crowd was quiet, quiescent. As the hexagon dropped down — to pick up Neon, Weiss supposed — she kept her head up, waiting for the jeering to begin.

Instead, somebody cheered.

It was only one person, at first, or at least, it sounded like it, but then, it was more than that, other voices taking up the call. Yes, there were still some people booing her — alright, there were still quite a few people booing her — but there were people cheering her as well, and that, though it might be a low bar, was one that, in the circumstances, she was happy to clear.

The hexagon landed. Neon was lying on her back, arms and legs spread out in a star shape. The sight of her, and the fact that at least some in the crowd were cheering on her victory, set a smile playing upon Weiss’ face as she made her way over to her defeated opponent.

Neon groaned. “I take it back; I don’t have any plans after all.” She smiled up at Weiss. “That semblance is something else, you know that?”

“It has been remarked upon,” Weiss replied stiffly.

Neon grinned as she sat up. “But you know what? You’re something else as well.” She leapt to her feet. “Although you could stand to learn some hand-to-hand combat.”

Weiss hesitated for a moment. “I’ll bear that in mind,” she said softly.

The two fell silent for a moment, listening to the mingled boos and cheers that greeted Weiss’ victory.

“You know, I think we can do a lot better than this with some effort,” Neon said.

“What are you—?” Weiss words were cut off by a shriek of surprise as Neon grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her up into the air like a dancer with her partner, balancing Weiss over her head as she twirled her way back onto the platform which, with them both on it, began to rise.

“Weiss Schnee, everybody, give it up!” Neon yelled.

“What are you doing?” Weiss shrieked. “Put me down this—”

“Come on, let me hear you make some real noise!” Neon shouted. “Weiss Schnee!”

This was so unseemly. This was utterly and completely undignified.

This actually felt kind of nice, being lifted up, literally elevated like this, listening to the cheers of a crowd that was not wholly against her.

Cheers that she flattered herself were even starting to get a little louder.

Yes, this … this felt rather nice indeed.

Comments

[Stet709]

“I want her to lose because I really like the girl she’s up against,” Veil said. “You want her to lose because of her family name. We are not the same.”

Kudos for using that meme

And kudos to Weiss for finally getting the recognition and praise she deserves

[Mastermind4892]

Excellent work, Weiss. You earned this victory!

And outstanding good sportsmanship at the end there, Neon. That makes you a far better person than the last group Weiss fought, no matter how much they (or Sienna) resent you for it.

[AngelicTitan]

Ahhhh Neon, I love you! Neon gaining respect for Weiss by fighting her then making the audience cheer her on by her actions was very sweet and elevated my opinion of her tenfold.
Regardless, the fight was awesome, and the way that Weiss’ was portrayed was perfect. I loved how Weiss rouse from near defeat to surprise everyone with her win, and the fact that she may have a better reputation after this makes it a perfect start to the 1v1 rounds!

[Sovks]

haha Neon being Neon, I love her!

Nice seeing Weiss finally having a nice time. And wow, this fight was really fun, didn't expect that first punch, also Weiss needs learn how to control her temper, it might cost her in a fight.

Anyway, nice chapter!

[PoluBrony]

Weeeeiiissss, my giiiiiirl
Neon, let me give you a hug! (Even though your ways of erring up your opponents in a fight still annoy me)

[Thisguyhere]

Good on Neon for that sportsmanship. I'm glad she got more development this time around.
Though now I hope it hasn't all been just so it to hits that much harder should she meet the same fate as the original story...

[Luviere]

I love that Neon's real talent is that she is extremely good at annoying opponents. She can fight, but her taunts are something else.