Chapter 3: Change That Stays The Same

The shopping trip ended relatively well. Everyone got new clothes and necessities for their stay at the academy. Penny escorts them back before dark, right after several more stops to get them the winter gear they need, and reports back to Ironwood with the receipts. She assures him that everything needed was purchased and returns the card to him.

Ironwood: And how were they?

He asks nonchalantly. Penny recounts what happened vaguely, giving no real complaints but not upselling the experience either.

Penny: Everything went well, they know how things at the academy work and got everything they needed for now so I’d say it was a success.

She states, trying to sound as cheerful as she can about a situation she was very much on the outside of. Ironwood could sense some disappointment in her words but lets it be for now and dismisses to go home. When she arrives home for the night Penny follows her usual nightly routine, dinner with her dad, getting ready for bed, and having a call with Whitley before going to sleep.

Soon things settle down for a little.

With their provisions sorted the students of the group are given some special training by the Ace Ops and are sent on some preliminary missions while Qrow gets caught up on Atlas’s system for high-ranking huntsmen by Winter and Clover. This leaves Penny to focus on her daily tasks as the election for the new council member draws nearer sparking political uproar in both cities.

Soon posters for politicians vying for the position cluttered up windows, posted on lawns, and rallies being held by different groups at least once a week. It’s a real mess as the whole commotion causes heavy emotional shifts in the people, meaning more grimm charging toward the city more often. But that was small potatoes compared to the effect it has on the populous.

With tensions so high, rallies that don’t always end peacefully, people don’t always get proper permission to hang up their posters or permits to hold events in public spaces. Between cutting down grimm Penny is mediating altercations between citizens and making arrests when things get unruly. And given the political views of some of the candidates that are gaining traction things usually get unruly when she and any other law enforcement get involved.

With a shift in power becoming a possibility many potential candidates have predictably voiced a less-than-positive view of the military. Some make good points about feeling trapped in their own city while others just make sweeping statements about military overstepping. The more loud and vitriolic opinions cause the most chaos as they insight a great amount of division among the people. Many react with neutrality and nuance, others with staunch militarism, and some with complete disdain for authority. Being the poster child of the military in Mantle and most publicly loved Penny is commonly put in the position of reassuring the people during such conflicts.

With all the aggression in the air having a kind soft-voiced cute girl handling these altercations over a large fully armored man with a gun help prevent escalation. And given that said girl could easily lift a full-grown man with her finger, even if the situation did escalate there was little chance of too much damage being done.

Not that it made doing so any easier on Penny but she’d rather get made fun of for being a kid involving herself in adult matters by belligerent citizens than see one of her fellow soldiers get accused of excessive force when they detain them for spitting in theirs and others faces.

On what was supposed to be a quiet Wednesday morning Penny’s doing her best to resolve tensions again as during her usual patrol she’s forced to intervene as a commotion breaks out in a shopping area. It was Valora the baker standing outside her business shouting at a uniquely dressed young man wearing wide-brim glasses, a muted-colored sweater, and a patterned scarf. The oddly attired man was trying to post flyers in her windows, much to Valora’s chagrin. In turn, the older woman rips off every flyer he puts up and berates him for his misbehavior.

Valora: I said no! I don’t want that crap on my store, Hector!

Hector: But she’s for Mantle! Why wouldn’t you want to promote someone who’s in favor of our city?!

Valora: I run a bakery, not a damn arts college! I don’t need politics plastered over my pastries.

Hector: So you’re okay with Mantle being oppressed by the upper city?

Valora: Of course not! Don’t you dare put words in my mouth, you little bastard! Now get the hell out of here before I get my bat! And take those damn flyers with you!

They go back and forth, getting louder by the second as passersby watch and stare. While they’re distracted Penny walks over to them and stands Hector before engaging.

Penny: Excuse me.

Her voice grabs their attention, Hector wipes his head around to yell at whoever had interrupted his righteous intent only to go pale when he recognize that it’s the local heroine who’s got him.

Penny: I heard commotion coming from this direction, is there a problem here?

She asks formally, tone even but nowhere near as bubbly as her usual canter. Sensing trouble, Hector backs off immediately, raising his free hand in a defense position while clutching the stack of flyers in the other. With him out of her way, Velora lets out a deep sigh and strides toward Penny, relieved that help had finally arrived to take care of this pest.

Valora: Oh thank God! Little Missy, Can you get this brat off my stoop? He’s been scaring off my customers all day and plastering this trash in my windows!

She hands Penny the tattered remains of a flyer she ripped off of her shop window.

Valora: I keep telling him to get but he keeps coming back.

Penny: Really?

Penny looks down at the flyer and examines it, taking in the figure on the poster. She doesn’t recognize her face but her skin tone and hair are eerily familiar. Penny had never seen her face but she’s seen this woman before and looking over down on the ground at the few flyers that remained intact after their forced removal Penny’s eyes locked in on two words.

Penny: Robyn Hill!…..and The Happy Huntresses?

She kneels down and grabs one of the flyers, absorbing in the image of the person who’s caused so much chaos over the last few months. She snaps her head back and focuses her gaze on Hector, who flinches at the sight of her now intense stare.

Penny: Your name is Hector, right?

She asks, Hector replying with a timid nod.

Penny: Where did you get these flyers?

She inquires, raising one of the discarded flyers to his view. Shaken by her presence and fearful of what might happen if he gets caught lying to law enforcement Hector ops to be honest.

Hector: I-I go-got them from my civics professor! Sh-she’s super politically mindful and w-w-wanted us to be more aware of o-our social climate….I thought it was a good cause and-and she said we’d get extra credit for handing them all out and I need the grade to pass this semester! Pl-please my parents are gonna cut me off if fail or get in trouble again! Please, please just let me go, I promise I won’t do it again!

He stutters out, rapid speech of desperation and regret. It was obvious Hector hadn’t thought out the ramifications of his decisions until they were staring him dead in the face, his early bravado yielding as he begged for mercy. And mercy he is given as Penny nods, looks down at the stack of flyers then back at Hector.

Penny: Thank you, now please leave this area and do not return unless Valors permits you. Also, I’ll be taking your flyers.

She orders, Hector frantically nods in agreement and holds over the flyer before scarring away. With peace restored Valora thanks Penny with a fresh egg tart and tells her to say hi to Pietro for her as Penny gets back to her usual patrol. Though her mood is still soured by the presence of the flyers, her head steaming without rage that the same crook who’d stolen from and damaged factories manned mostly by Mantle citizens was now campaigning as their savior.

Penny: Giving equality back to the people? Yeah, right!

She scoffs internally, munching on the savory treat as she reads the short diatribe of promises the flyer promoted. It wasn’t hard to see why someone would be swayed by it, promises of peace, unity, and fairness during such turbulent times was like setting up fly traps with honey. But Penny knew the other side of things and for as much as looking at this thief’s face made her want to burn the papers to ash she had to hold onto them for now. Just until she can turn them over to Ironwood and finally putting a face to the nightmare.

So she does.

Going to his office and presenting her findings right before her lunch break. Ironwood takes a good long look at the flyer and then suddenly there’s a spark of recognition in his eyes. He checks the military’s database again, flittering it differently from the last attempt he made when the name Robyn Hill first popped up, and eventually ound a match.

Ironwood: She’s a former graduate of the Academy. She was a military huntress for two years then went independent after being ousted from her former team.

He explains, showing Penny the results of his search.

Ironwood: She’s been inactive for so long that the system didn’t flag her initially. As far as the military is concerned Robyn Hill is on permanent probation, not to be engaged with unless absolutely necessary.

He continues, his screen showing Robyn’s old academic record and most recent information. Penny quietly absorbs this new information and inquires further.

Penny: But why? What caused her to be essentially exiled from the kingdom’s huntsmen order?

She asks, wanting to know everything about the criminal she’d been tracking. Ironwood sighs and gets into the details of Robyn’s file and her past.

Ironwood: Robyn was never a great fit for the academy to begin with. Her semblance was non-combative but she was able to pass the physical exam and met the requirements to enroll. She had decent grades, good combat skills, and threat assessment but fell behind due to personality conflicts.

Penny: Personality conflicts?

Ironwood: Robyn was ousted from three teams during her training and dismissed from her military team by the other three members after a series of complaints. In most cases, she was the only one to be reassigned usually by unanimous vote of her teammates.

Ironwood states, Penny listens carefully before posing another question.

Penny: That's really unusual. What was she doing to get removed from so many teams?

She inquires, Ironwood again references the files looking through them until he finds Robyn’s detailed disciplinary records.

Ironwood: Well, seem like Robyn had a problem with authority. She requested to made leader on every team she joined but was rejected each time. She’d often tried to overrule or undermine her leaders during missions and eventually actively disobeyed orders once out in the field. She also had no respect for security clearance or protocol around sensitive information. If Robyn wanted to know something or thought she should know something she would make it known and everyone’s problem. It was an annoyance for the most part, didn’t affect her abilities as a huntress. Until the day she took it too far.

Penny furrows her brows as she reads the files while Ironwood regales the cliff notes of them. It’s astonishing just how much of a hassle a person can be before they get ousted for their actions. And from what’s she’s hearing Robyn’s was a long time coming, though how she managed to avoid dismissal for that long was a complete mystery to her. Ironwood sighs and scrolls further into the files, stopping on a specific incident. It was one of the last entries, one detailing the final nail in the coffin of Robyn Hill’s military huntsmen career.

Ironwood: During a routine road-clearing mission Robyn veered away from her team when a pack of Boarbastusk attacked. By the time she returned and joined the fight, the damage was done. Their team lead came back with a mangled leg and such acute damage to the contracting joints that the entire leg up to the hip had to be replaced with cybernetics to restore function…..all over some damn minx.

Penny:….Minx?

She asks, the word coming out like a swear. Ironwood pulls up a photo on the screen, it’s of a small white weasel-like creature sitting on a dead log in the snow.

Ironwood: The Solitas Minx, a rare subspecies only found on this continent and a low runner on the endangered species list after they were over-hunted during the rise of Atlas’s fur trade. Robyn was an animal rights activist and at the time there were rumors of a burrow being along that route. She wanted to scout the area to find and relocate the creatures before engaging but her team refused, so she went off on her own. But the rumors were just that, rumors. The den, the closet one was miles away, on the edge of a forest, completely unscathed by the skirmish, something Robyn was more than happy about.

Penny:…….Unbelievable.

Penny can feel herself shaking with rage, this woman had put her team in grave danger over nothing and it had cost someone else their leg. And now she was crusading for Mantle with promises of change and betterment, promises that seemed far too good to be true in Penny’s eyes.

Penny: If this is how she behaved then there’s no way she’s campaigning for a good cause now. Especially not with what she’s done recently! Still she puts herself in the public eye, acting like she’s some righteous crusader while actively under suspicion of stealing from the military! It doesn’t make any sense! The moment she’s caught she thought so why start pushing for a consil seat now?! What the hell is she thinking?!

She grips the edge of her skirt, flustered by how the situation had developed. It was just more bad news on top of an already bad situation and Penny couldn’t help but feel a little powerless in it. This woman had been trouble to the people around her for years and yet somehow she was still gaining a following with her frivolous promises right under everyone’s noses and Penny hadn’t been able to do a thing about it!

Seeing the tension building in her Ironwood reaches out a hand and pats Penny’s shoulder, the contact making her look up and lock eyes with him. He’s wearing that same comforting fatherly smile he always does when he’s about to praise one of his subordinates, the one Penny’s become familiar with throughout the investigation. He gently holds her gaze and shoulder as he turns his attention from the file to her.

Ironwood: Thank you for bringing this in, Penny. Having a face and profile to work with will make it easier to track her down.

He says, hand still resting gently on Penny’s shoulder.

Ironwood: Guess you’ll be keeping that employee of the month strike for a while longer, huh?

He jokes. Penny giggles a bit, amused by the notion of her current achievement being extended. When her mood brightening back up Ironwood pulls his hand back and decides to end the conversation on a high note.

Ironwood: Now I have some meetings to attend so you go take your lunch and I’ll keep you updated on the situation.

He states, Penny nodding in agreement. She leaves and heads to lunch, a newfound pep in her step, happy to have helped push the issue closer to a solution with her findings. She goes about the rest of her day and manages to clock off on time but gets stopped on her way home by an unfortunate sight.

It was Mr. Calves standing on a literal soapbox holding up a sign promoting himself as a candidate for the council while shouting into megaphone right outside the bar he was still banned from entering.

Calves: DOWN WITH THE MILITARY CABAL! DOWN WITH THE AUTHORITARIAN REGIME! NO MORE, IRON FIST! NO MORE, IRONWOOD!

He chants in obviously drunken rage, red-faced from the shouting and booze.

Penny takes a deep breath in and out before walking up behind him, grab both sides of the soapbox and picks it up with Calves still standing on it. He doesn’t realize that he’s even being moved up he pauses for a breath and seeing the building he was standing in front of getting further and further away.

Calves: Eh-Hey What The Hell!

He shouts, squirming as his body registers the lack of soiled ground beneath him. But before he can fall off Penny’s already sat him and his soapbox back on the ground a full block away from the bar. As he’s getting his bearings back Penny dusts her gloves and checks her clothes for any smears or stains from the dusty box. Once she’s cleaned up Penny looks up at Calves.

Penny: You’re not allowed to be here or lobby on private property without permission. Good night Mr. Calves.

She waves him goodbye, turns on her heel, and starts walking away. She could hear his usual annoyed grumble as she strides away.

Little did Penny know that would be the last time she’d see the drunkard ever again. Nor that he would be the one to make seemingly disconnected acts of violence come together as a full-on targeted spree.

The poor drunk soul drags himself and his possessions down a dark alley not noticing the tall figure cloaked in black and dressed in white stalking toward him. Nor does he hear the scratching of sharp metal against brick in quick melodic swipes. It’s under the dim light of a broken lamppost right next to one of his usual watering holes that Calves sees the shadow of a long segmented tail hanging behind him. And no sooner than he could turn his head did he feel its stinger pierce his larynx, his last gaze falling on maddeningly bright yellow eyes glowing in the moonlight. The sound of wicked laughter echoes over his fading heartbeat as the burning pain turns to deep cold then to black.

Elsewhere Penny gets a different sort of unfortunate news during her evening call with Whitley. The poor boy looked exhausted, nursing a cup of coffee while still at his desk despite the late hour.

Penny: You’re still working?

She asks, her lips forming a worried frown. Here she was sitting comfy in bed safe and snug in cozy pajamas while he was still toiling away like a corporate slave in his own home. Whitley notes this and straightens himself up to seem a little less dead inside.

It had been an exhausting day. With Jacques so focused on his campaign Whitley had all but taken over his role as head of the SDC and completely taken over managing the Schnee manor while also maintaining his studies. Being a far more competent person and much more aware of the goings-on around him Whitley was working round the clock to not only fill his father’s shoes but pick up the slack he’d been letting slide for years. Issues that the heartless bastard would easily blame on his own son, despite being the one to let them fester, if they worsened under his watch.

Whitley: I even had to take over his meeting with the general today.

He explains, taking a swig from his coffee cup to chase the drowsiness lest he pass out mid-conversation.

Whitley: They were brokering a deal over an abandoned dust mine, except I was the one handling all the details on our end!

He grumbles before taking another swig from his mug.

Whitley: Thankfully that deal’s getting settled tomorrow. Huntsmen will be clearing the mind after the handover and my father has insisted that he be there to witness the entire process in person! So he’ll be out of the house for a while, not that he’s here much as it is.

He bemoans, Penny leading a sympathetic ear through his rant.

They talk until bedtime, Penny insisting on staying on the line until Whitley finishes his work. The next morning Penny wakes up hoping that today would be an easy day for her and Whitley. But that hope is dashed before breakfast as she gets a call from General Ironwood, requesting her assistance on a mission out in the tundra that would take her from her duties for that day.

Ironwood: I thought we had everything covered but there was a hitch, we need you to clear a smaller section of the mine.

He explains. When given more details on the situation Penny puts two and two together and realizes this is the dust mine Whitley was talking about the night before. She would be clearing the mine of a golem grimm alongside Team RWBY and the Ace Ops while the general and Jacques Schnee oversaw the operation. This was going to be a tense mission, Ironwood working in the field with a man he could barely stand sitting across a desk from, Weiss would be in the presence of the person she ran away from and refused to rely on even in an extreme emergency and Penny herself would be coming face to face with the man she’d been longing to maim to the point of short-circuiting her humanity safeguards.

This could end so bad in so many ways and Penny really didn’t want more on her already overflowing mental plate. But still, she accepts the task.

This mission was vital in getting the Amity project together as its success meant they’d have a private stock of dust. Obtaining a dust mine would be a crucial move as it would cut out the middleman and hopefully lower the risk of theft via tighter security and the obscurity of its location.

Penny: At least I hope it does.

She thought at the door while getting out her thick cloak, winter hat, and snow boots, still ruminating on the situation even after the call ended. Even now as she’s getting ready to head out the door her mind is still racing with possible scenarios and very few end well for everyone. Interpersonally this would not be an easy mission but that was no reason to postpone the inevitable. Once she’s kitted up for her cold mission Penny waves goodbye to her dad and heads out for the academy. She goes to Ironwood and rides with him to the site as he briefs her on the specifics of this mission.

Ironwood: There are two golems, one in the main mine and one in a tighter chamber, and several small packs of Bewoulves spread through. The Ace Ops, Team RWBY, and Team ORNJ will handle most of the grim but I need you to take care of the smaller golem on your own.

Penny: Affirmative!

Ironwood: Good, now we can’t start until Jaques arrives so try to stay out of his field of view until it’s time, okay?

Penny: I’ll do my best!

Ironwood: Thank you.

He says a hint of unease in his tone, Penny notices this and questions him on it.

Penny: Is that all or is there something else you need to tell me?

She speculates, Ironwood sighing in response before pulling out a tablet.

Ironwood: There is one more thing. I was hoping to leave it for later but there really isn’t a good time for bad news.

He pulls up some files detailing the string of murders, Penny immediately recognizes Calves among the photos of victims. Ironwood doesn’t go too into detail, hiding the crime scene photos from her sight as he explains the crisis.

Ironwood: Someone has been butchering potential candidates and political pundits with a vocal stance against me.

Penny: Oh my god.

Penny gasps, shocked to hear of the gruesome news and horrified at the realization that she was one of the last people the latest victim saw before his demise.

Ironwood: I know. And when this hits the media they’ll probably lean into a narrative of it being targeted attacks meant to silence dissonance and anti-military sentiments but it’s the least of my concerns.

Penny: B-but why? It’s not true, you’d never kill someone for their opinion!

She almost shouts, unsettled that anyone would think her benefactor capable of something so needlessly cruel. Ironwood pats her shoulder reassuringly before explaining himself.

Ironwood: It’s fine, I’ve been smeared by media before, this is nothing new. Right now I’d rather focus on catching the culprit and preventing more casualties than set things straight with the public.

He states. Penny sighs but doesn’t dig further, she knows Ironwood was a man of results, not appearances. He’d rather take the scrutiny than waste time that could go to protect lives denying it. Still Penny couldn’t help but puff her cheeks in frustration at the issue.

Penny: Why does something bad always happen right after something good?! It’s this what they mean by two steps forward and three steps back?

She groans internally, quietly sulking to herself until they land at the mining site. As the other teams arrive shortly behind them Ironwood goes to brief them on the details. Meanwhile Penny surveys the area, her boots still holstered in their collapsed state as she looks around from a small border near the landing strip. Despite her predisposition to wandering off Penny tries to stay put, being this deep in the cold of tundra was draining her energy much faster than normal so staying still until go time was the best choice to keep her combat-ready without burning through her battery.

Soon enough Jacques's airship enters the view, landing at the spot closest to mine. Ironwood stands by to meet him as the ship touches down but when the door opens and Jacques emerges wearing a large polar bear skin coat and jacket.

But he’s not alone.

Behind him working diligently on a laptop and bundled tight in a winter coat is Whitley.

Penny feels her heat jump at the sight of him, shrinking back to try and hide herself from him. This was not the environment she wanted him to see her in, at work about to go all kill bot on some grimm. Not only did it risk reveling her true nature by virtue of her sheer overwhelmed battle prowess when compared to other huntsmen, especially with the kingdom's strongest assisting.

But this was also the most uncute light she could put herself ever!

Even if she managed to keep her secret under wraps Whitley would be privy to just how strong she really is once the job is done. In most of the books Penny read heroines were usually gentle and sweet and from what she gathered from watching people that’s what most boys liked in girls. And even though Whitley wasn’t just any boy Penny couldn’t help but worry how knowing of her full strength could change his view of her. Whitley always tried her so delicately, always soothing her with sweet words, and Penny couldn’t stand the thought of that ending if he found out how tough she really is!

Penny: Please don’t look over here, Please don’t look over here, Please don’t look over here!

She chants helplessly as they descend onto the site. Jacques already looks fervently annoyed, face twisted into a tight frown as he marches up the general.

Jacques: Of all the dirty tricks you’ve pulled over the years this has got to be the nastiest!

He accuses, glaring Ironwood down as he stomps onto the ice with Whitley cautious trailing behind.

Jacques: First you cauterize my business with this embargo then when the market’s down you swoop in and seize one of my mines! What an utter con! No better than a common thief stealing in broad daylight!

He spits, flinging specks of saliva on Ironwood’s cheek. Ironwood doesn’t even blink at Jacques's tirade, maintaining eye contact as he silently wipes his cheek with his gloved right hand before engaging with the irate businessman.

Ironwood: I wouldn’t call a mutual business transaction theft. We both made our terms known and I’ve already cleared the purchase with the rest of the council. You’ll get payment for your wares and relieved of this mine per our agreement.

Jacques: Why you obnoxious little—

Jacques pauses in his tirade as his eyes look onto a familiar figure, Weiss Schnee. Their eyes met, Jacques taking a step forward to get a better look from over Ironwood’s shoulder. Penny and Whitley’s gazes immediately follow Jacques’s line of sight and quickly register the dangerous turn this conversation is about to take.

Penny: No, no, no, no, no! Not her! Not now!

Penny screams internally as Jacques tries to push his way past Ironwood to get to Weiss.

Jacques: Is that—How dare you rope my missing daughter into your schemes! How long has she been back in the city?!

He snears, berating Ironwood for not informing him of his middle child’s return and accusing him of hiding her from him. Even from afar, Penny could see Weiss’s face start to twist with anger. She knows Weiss isn’t afraid to do battle with her father but she wouldn’t be the one dealing with the aftermath of igniting the man’s temper!

Penny: Just ignore him! Please, please don’t say anything! Don’t make this worse than it already is! Just walk away and let the General handle him so we can get this over with!

She silently prays, hoping against hope that Weiss will take the high road and walk away. She has no reason to engage with him right now, she’s surrounded by allies and witnesses who would back her if Jacques stepped out of line. The only people who’d be facing his wrath if she riled him up were the ones stuck with him in the home she no longer shared.

And knowing Jacques Whitley would be the one in the direct line of fire once they left and Penny didn't want to imagine what that monster might do to him over this!

But right now all she could do was pray that Weiss would keep her cold as Jacques continued to rant and rave.

Jacques: This is just outright disrespectful, keeping my child from me like this! Did Winter know about this? Or was it her idea to—

Weiss: It was my idea and my decision to come here.

Weiss states sternly as she marches toward her father. Penny hangs her head in disappointment as her hopes for a peaceful resolution die as Weiss continues on.

Weiss: Just like it was my decision to leave. Or have you forgotten all about that?

She quips, Jacques turning to face her as he fires back.

Jacques: If you think I’m one to forget anything girl then you’ve misjudged your father greatly.

Weiss: Believe me, I know exactly what kind of man you are.

Penny facepalms at Weiss’s dig as Jacques grows incensed, pointing a finger in his daughter’s face as he scowls at her remark.

Jacques: How dare you speak to me that way! I have half a mind to—

Ironwood: Half a mind to what, Jacques?

By the grace of the gods Ironwood intervenes, getting into between the two and shooting Jacques a pointed stare. The businessman, recognizes the corners he’s been back into, takes a deep breath, and dusts himself off before changing his approach.

Jacques: You know, your mother was absolutely devastated when you left. Didn’t leave her room for days, hardly ate, and barely slept. Poor thing but you know how she is when she gets upset.

He says, clearly trying to guilt Weiss for leaving with her mother’s reaction. Looking behind the all Penny could see Whitley grimacing, he couldn’t help but show visible disgust at his father’s tactics before hiding himself behind his laptop. Penny doesn’t pay much attention to the conversion from there, stealing glances at Whitley until things eventually die down. Soon Jacques had been sat down to the side as teams got ready to begin clearing the mines.

Once Winter arrived everyone is given maps of the area and instructions on proper procedure for this type of mission.

Winter: Scrolls on, communication is key when working underground and in tight spaces. Double-check your battery power and connect before you go in and be aware of your charge at all times in case of an emergency.

Everyone agrees with her terms and checks their scrolls as they disperse. As Penny checks her scroll she notices a recent u open text she must have missed during the briefing.

Whitley: [Good luck out there, darling. I’ll rooting for you from up here so come back safe for me.]

It reads, Penny immediately looks up and around until she spots Whitley sitting apart from his father working on a little fold-up chair and table while Jacques continues to one-sidedly bicker with Ironwood. Unsure if she should take the risk and text him back or just want to say thank you later Penny starts to fidget with uncertainty. She desperately wants to let him know she got his text and is grateful for the support but doesn't want to risk him getting caught out in the open like this. As Penny squirms her awkward movements catch Whitley’s attention as he looks up from his screen. When they realize they’ve spotted each other Whitley looks around to see if anyone’s looking. No one seems to be paying either of them any mind and his father was still preoccupied with arguing with Ironwood so he playfully waved to her from his seat. Penny sees it and immediately waves back with both hands before rushing off to catch up with the others, the sight her flushed face as she runs away makes Whitley chuckle under his breath.

Deep within the mind, there rests a 10-foot-tall golem scratching at walls to pick out dust to feed into its main body. As it’s spot a particularly thick clump to inspect it reaches out a segmented arm to grab it. But as its grip tights on the clump the arm itself goes lax as something cuts through the air at its forearm. Within a blink, the arm had been severed by a thin blade now lodged in the wall next to the lost limb. But as it does not stay put, yanking itself out of the wall and back to its spot among its sisters in a ring of blades floating behind a now battle-ready Penny Polendina, her boots humming as they roar to life in the cold camber and her eyes glowing deathly bright as she stared down her target.

Penny: Excuse me, but my boyfriend is outside waiting for me. It’s cold, his sister has decided to be a problem and rile up their father, and said father is currently bothering my commanding officer with unnecessary grievances.

She says while slowly walking towards the creature, already analyzing which weak spots she needs to hit to take it apart efficiently.

Penny: So please….die quickly so I can get back to them as soon as possible.

Chapter 2: The City Up High

Harriet: What in the actual fuck just happened?! Did he really just say that?!

Harriet shouts aloud as the call ends, confusion, and outrage overtaking her as the group continues their ride to the academy under new orders. Small sparks fly off her as her temper flares up, her face twisting into a sneer. The other Ace Ops seem indifferent to her outburst, except for Marrow who reaches out and hesitantly pats her shoulder.

Marrow: Calm down, Harriet. I’m sure there’s a really good reason why the General gave us those orders. Maybe there’s-

Harriet: Bullshit!

She shouts, causing Marrow to flinch and back off. She continues to fume, her left foot thumping against the floor building sparks with every tap.

Harriet: This makes no sense! Why would we need to put on the kid gloves for a bunch of brats that broke into the city?!

She shouts, foot thumping faster in disdain. The sparks grow bigger as the energy in her leg builds. Sensing an incoming disaster Elm and Vine share a quick glance then shoot one at Clover. Clover nods in the affirmative and Vine activates his semblance. His right arm glows and becomes pliable, reaching out he grabs Harriet by her waist.

Harriet: Huh? Wait! Don’t you dar—

She doesn’t get to protest any further as Vine pulls her out of her seat and into Elm’s lap, securing her legs with his oversized limb once she’s in place. With Harriet in her lap, Elm pulls her hopping mad teammate close to her chest as Harriet struggles against her.

Harriet: LET ME GO! GET OFF ME! AH—

The furious blond shouts, thrashing about to try and escape the hold she was in. But she stops when Elm places a hand behind her head and begins rubbing circles onto her nap.

Elm: Shhh, hush little bunny, hush now.

Elm sings, voice sweet, and motherly as she continues to stroke the back of Harriet’s neck. Elm presses her lips to Harriet’s forehead and hums a low lullaby. Almost instantly Harriet calms down, the sparks around her dissipate as she slowly stops moving. Her eyes begin to flutter closed and within the span of a minute, Harriet falls asleep on Elm. Vine pats the sleeping Harriet on the head before pulling back and returning his arm to its normal shape. With his dominant arm returned he reaches into his breast pocket to retrieve a small book. As calm returns to the vehicle Vine begins to read while Marrow lets out a quiet sigh of relief and Clover gives Elm and Vine a thumbs up for keeping things brief.

It's all oddly practiced, as if this was a common occurrence. And clearly it was, as no one seemed to be surprised at how the incident played out.

All except Penny, who had been watching them in silence. She truly had no idea what to expect from such elite huntsmen but this definitely was not it. Staring at them wide-eyed as they ride towards the academy she has no idea what to say in this situation, woefully unprepared to even articulate her thoughts on what just happened.

Elm spots her confused look and flashes her a warm smile while still cradling Harriet.

Elm: Sorry, we haven’t been getting much sleep this week and she gets cranky when she’s tired.

She whispers, like a mother explaining her unruly toddler's tantrum. Penny just nods in response and stays silent for the rest of the ride.

When they land, Penny is the first to depart while the Ace Ops stay to process Ruby and her comrades. She doesn’t want to leave them behind but she couldn’t ignore that they were still under arrest. And if she wanted to do anything about it or even understand what was really going on then she had to see Ironwood first. Heading to his office, she finds Winter waiting for her outside the doors, her expression stoic as ever. Penny does not meet her gaze, unsure if Winter was aware that her sister was back in the kingdom or how exactly she got into the city, as the two enter their commander’s office.

Once inside Penny is pleasantly surprised to see Ironwood’s desk clean for once and the general himself looking a little less tired than the last time she saw him. Rising from his desk as they enter Ironwood acknowledges his two most trusted officers.

Ironwood: Good evening Winter, Penny and thank you for coming on such short notice.

He greets them as calm and collected as usual.

Winter: Of course, General. I came as soon as I heard that the hijackers were being apprehended.

She remarks dryly. This causes Ironwood to crack a smirk and a chill to run up Penny’s spine.

Penny: Uh oh…Winter….she doesn’t know yet!

She thinks nervously as it dawns on her that the ever-strict Winter had no clue her beloved younger sister had just been arrested for said highjacking. Penny looks straight ahead at Ironwood, avoiding Winter’s visage as best she can. If she were to look Winter in the eye right now she might just have a panic attack.

She really did not want to be the one to deliver that news to the stern huntress.

Contrary to Penny’s nervousness Ironwood seemed rather amused by Winter’s obliviousness if not a little giddy. He stifles a chuckle before addressing her statement.

Ironwood: Well I appreciate your haste. I need you and Penny here tonight as we’ll be meeting with some new….. allies in the Salem situation.

That gives both Winter and Penny pause. They rarely said the Witch’s name out loud, it felt like a bad omen just to hear it. But when it was a serious matter, one pertaining to the safety of the kingdom and the world as a whole, she was spoken of.

Winter: ……Excuse me? What are you talking about?

Winter asks, a hint of anxiety creeping into her tone. Ironwood catches on to her worry and responds softly.

Ironwood: As you may recall I told you Ozpin left a few contingencies in place in case something were to happen. That certain people were tasked with recruiting others in preparation for the worse, just as I did with you two and the Ace Ops.

Winter: Yes, I know but what does that have to do with this?

Ironwood: One of those trusted few have arrived at our doorstep, and it’s time to welcome them in.

Winter: ….With all due respect General are you sure these people are the allies we’ve been waiting for? They sent no notice in advance and there has been no report of any high-ranking huntsmen entering the kingdom besides the Ace Ops so how can we–

A knock on the door interrupts them.

Clover: Clover Ebi, requesting entry.

The special officer states, Winter and Penny watch the door with anticipation as Ironwood deals with the intrusion.

Ironwood: State your reason.

Clover: I have an item from the highjacking arrest I think you need to see.

At that, Ironwood pauses then replies.

Ironwood: Come in.

With that Clover enters carrying a very distinct object, a lamp.

Or rather something that appeared to be a lamp.

The item was unlike anything that currently existed in this world.

The sleekness of the gold was so perfect no man could have molded it, and its gilded shine appeared beyond pristine as if untouched by man or time. The orb that should hold the flame was perfect in shape and texture like a polished jewel but like the gold it was far too immaculate to be made by flawed mortal hands.

This object was beyond Remnant, an otherworldly creation that predated the very civilization they stood on.

This was one of the four relics.

The Lamp Of Knowledge.

Clover carefully places the lamp on Ironwood’s desk, tension clear in his movements as he gently lowers the sacred object. Winter stares at the object in pure disbelief, Penny in wonder, as Ironwood picks up the item and inspects it for himself. Picking it up with a gloved robotic hand, James Ironwood holds up the lamp which holds all knowledge of the world and everything in existence. He gazes at it in the light.

In all honesty, James had never thought he’d be the one handling it. Not even in his wildest dreams or most terrifying nightmares could he have imagined being in the situation he is now. It’s more brilliant than he thought it would be but the very fact it was here made him even more anxious than he had been. Knowing what horrors must have occurred for it to be here and what was coming toward this kingdom to obtain it and the very artifact that keeps the city of Atlas afloat made what’s left of Ironwood’s mortal heart quiver in fright.

But now was not the time to show such weakness.

He gingerly places the lamp in the bottom drawer of his desk. When he raises his gaze up again Winter’s visibly shaken, her usual decorum lost in panic. She knew good and well what that lamp was and who was after it. That was enough to shake even the fiercest of soldiers but along with the question of who the highjackers were? It was all too much at once!

Winter: Alright, what is going on here?! Why is the relic of knowledge in Atlas? How is it in Atlas?! And what does this have to do with the highjacking?!

She questioned, tension ringing in every word. Ironwood takes a deep breath and calmly clarifies the situation.

Ironwood: Calm yourself, Winter. We don’t have all the details at the moment but we will once they come up and explain themselves.

He looks over to Clover expectingly. Knowing that look and being in charge of the group currently handling said people of interest Clover retorts to his unspoken question.

Clover: They should be on their way up now.

Ironwood: Good, thank you, Clover. Now go gather up your team and get some rest. You just got home and haven’t had a second to settle back in. Go get some sleep, a bath, and a hot meal.

Clover: Yes Sir.

He salutes his commanding officer, gives both Winter and Penny a courtesy nod, and departs to gather his team for some much-needed rest and recovery. Not long after Clover leaves armed guards from the security division enter with the suspects in cuffs. Winter’s jaw almost drops when she sees that the group is made up mostly of her younger sister’s school friends and that Weiss herself is among them. And she can feel her brow involuntarily twitch when she registers that Qrow Branwen, a man equal to her in rank in his home kingdom, was also with them.

Winter has to pinch the bridge of her nose and inhale deeply to silence the outraged scream building in her chest as she quickly puts two and two together. Once she’s gathered herself Winter walks over to them, looks across the group with a stern gaze, and stops in front of her sister before finally addressing the lot.

Winter: You have ten seconds to get out of those cuffs and explain yourselves.

She orders. The security officers stiffen at her demand and look to their higher command for direction. Ironwood nods in agreement with Winter’s decree and waves them off. They comply, releasing the electronic locks on the cuffs, and picking them up once they hit the floor before leaving just as quickly and quietly as they came.

Free of their restraints and rubbing their wrists Ruby and Co presently stand in front of the greatest military authority in the land after coming in under the most suspicious of circumstances.

Ruby: Well we….you see, we kinda had to, uh…….It wasn’t like we had a—uh…

Ruby tries to explain her side of the story but can’t even get the words out. None of them could. Frankly put, they had stepped in it big time and could face some pretty severe consequences for what they’ve done. But by some idiot’s luck, they are not immediately greeted with a harsh scolding or lecture as Ironwood rises from his desk. At a steady stride, he moves to stand in front of Qrow. The two colleagues stand face-to-face with each other for the first time in many months. Given the circumstances, Qrow is quick to try an acknowledge his part in this whole debacle, hoping to spare the kids some of the blame.

Qrow: Hey James, sorry for the, uh, unannounced visit. I know it was above board and honestly don’t blame ya if you’re-

He doesn’t get to finish as the strong-willed man wraps his arms around his middle and pulls him into a gentle embrace. Qrow raises his arms in surprise at the sudden hug but quickly settles into it, it wasn’t every day that James Ironwood showed such vulnerability, and given his track record Qrow knew he must have been worried sick about him since Beacon fell. The man looked almost a decade older than the last time he saw him and Qrow couldn’t leave his old friend hanging in that state. After all they’d been through a lot as part of Ozpin’s inner circle and with the ruckus he helped cause on their way in he more than owed him this much.

Qrow: Ha, still a big softie at heart.

He thought giving Ironwood a reassuring pat on the back before he releases him from his hold and looks out to the group.

Ironwood: Apologies for the rough welcome. But when report of a stolen airship came in along with news of the border mecha being heavily damaged we couldn’t afford to take any chance.

He explains.

Yang: As if we couldn’t tell.

Yang quips somewhat pointedly, Ironwood raises a brow to that and retorts plainly.

Ironwood: And yet here we are.

He jested, Yang clams up at his response and backs down. Seeing his niece fail to back her bark with her bite Qrow steps up to the plate.

Qrow: Again, real sorry about that. But we had some important intel we needed to get to you fast. It’s a life or death matter, couldn’t wait for bureaucracy to do it’s thing so we, uh….. improvised.

Ironwood: Ah, I see.

Ironwood doesn’t even raise an eyebrow at Qrow’s statement. Instead, he walks back to his desk. Standing behind the fixture he retrieves the lamp from the bottom drawer and holds it up for all to see.

Ironwood: If you referring to this then I’m already well aware.

He states, much to the shock of everyone but himself, Winter and Penny. Ruby is first to notice that the two ladies of power are unaffected by the sight of the mythical object. Looking between them she finds her voice again and speaks up.

Ruby: That’s…..why are you…why are they so…

Qrow immediately picks up on what Ruby has already noticed and can’t stay quiet.

Qrow: You…..you told them?

He asks point-blank, voice raised in disbelief. Ironwood maintains a calm demeanor and answers flatly.

Ironwood: Of course. You didn’t think you were the only one working on a plan after Beacon did you? With Ozpin gone and Salem active I needed my own team of people I could trust.

He looks to Penny then Winter a shimmer of pride and faith glimmering in his eyes.

Ironwood: So yes I told them. As well as the Ace Ops, the officers who arrested you earlier. I need my best and brightest by my side with this….hell looming over us. It’s why I’m so glad you’re here, with this.

He gestures to the lamp.

Ironwood: Until now I thought it was impossible to truly turn the tides on Salem. Qzpin kept her back, kept victory out of her claws but she kept coming back over and over again, each time more unstable, more brutal, and dangerous. And with him gone, we can no longer maintain that stalemate. We must destroy Salem.

Everyone tenses at the mention of eliminating Salem. It was quite literally talk of ending an ancient deity after generations of failed attempts and minimal survival. It seemed impossible but Ironwood knew there was no other way now that things had progressed this far.

Ruby:…..What about the Atlas relic?

She questions, cutting through the grim silence that had fallen on the room. Ironwood answers her question with a question.

Ironwood: You mean the Staff of Creation? It’s inside the vault, safe and sound.

Qrow: And the winter maiden?

He questions. Knowing why he’s most likely asked, Winter takes the lead and answers for Ironwood.

Winter: She’s secure and in stable condition.

Qrow nods, reassured by her statement. But Yang immediately perks up in curiosity at the mention of the winter maiden’s health.

Yang: Stable condition? What do you mean by-

Qrow: She’s not exactly a spring chicken.

He clarifies, shushing his niece’s concerns. Silence again takes over the room until Ironwood breaks it with a heavy sigh. Continuing on he gets to the topic of his own actions in response to his mentor’s death and his enemy’s victory over an allied kingdom.

Ironwood: I know how this all looks. I probably don’t seem the most trustworthy right now. With the embargo, closing borders, and withdrawing my troops. But I needed to ensure Salem couldn’t infiltrate Atlas and wanted my military here protecting my people. With the fall of Beacon, every major city and huntsmen academy is a target and I would rather be looked at as a tyrant than allow hellfire to rain down on the people I swore to protect.

He admits, the atmosphere growing somber. Penny felt especially dour, as she was there through the day by day and saw up close the stress and frustration everyone involved endured. She witnessed firsthand how volatile people from all parts of the kingdom had become. And how far Ironwood was willing to go to keep everything in check as best he could, even if it made him seem like the bad guy.

Said man carried on in his appeal to the group, tone soft and direct.

Ironwood: Just as you all were entrusted with the knowledge of Salem’s existence, I need you to trust me….I have a plan.

Looking down at his desk, Ironwood presses a button and black metal shutters cover the office windows, plunging the room into darkness. Once the room is secured the circle pattern in the floor’s masonry rises, forcing everyone standing on it to run off. Soon it reveals itself as a round table projector, everyone gathering around it as Ironwood further expounds his plan.

Ironwood: Ozpin believed the best way to fight Salem was in secret. Whether that was the correct choice or not I can’t say. But we’re no longer in a position where that method is possible. We need a new approach.

He states, Qrow pipes up and asks the obvious question.

Qrow: And what do you suggest?

He gets his answer when Ironwood presses a button and a projection of Amity Coliseum illuminates the room. Everyone in the room recognizes the structure, Penny almost jolting at the sight of it, but it’s Jaune who vocalizes it first.

Jaune: That’s…Amity Coliseum.

Oscar: Where the Vital Festival is held?

He asks piggybacking off Jaune’s statement. Ironwood replies to both boys’ queries simply before carrying on.

Ironwood: Indeed. When Beacon fell and every kingdom lost contact with one another I realized that our current system was outdated. Amity was built to bring nations together, and it will serve that purpose again.

He pushes another button and a new antenna like structure appears atop the holographic coliseum, drawing everyone’s attention upwards. Ironwood does not elaborate this time, instead he looks to his trusted huntresses to continue on the topic in his place. Being the more energetic of the two Penny goes first.

Penny: Isn’t it great! We’re not going to just replace Beacon Tower but build a new tower on top of Amity Coliseum that will reestablish global communications!

She says cheerfully, Winter picking up from where she left off immediately.

Winter: By launching the tower high into the atmosphere our scientists believe we can create a sort of…satellite. Out of reach of the grimm and capable of maintaining global communications even if we were to lose another tower.

She explains, the two painting a picture of stability and union by way of restored and reinforced international transmissions. It causes a sense of ease in the large party as their travel had been greatly impeded by the lack of open communications between kingdoms. But now that hurdle could vanish forever more and some of the normalcy that was lost in the attack could be regained.

Ruby: That is…great.

The silver-eyed girl commented, gaze firmly fixed on the hologram. Qrow however, looks at the projection warily then returns his focus to Ironwood, presenting him with a pointed observation.

Qrow: James, you don’t need the entire military for this.

He states. Ironwood blinks, averting Qrow’s gaze by redirecting his attention to the hologram before answering his colleague’s implied question.

Ironwood: I will for the next part……Where I finally tell the people about Salem.

For a second the room feels ice cold, as the warm excitement of reconnection between the nations is frozen over by the implications of revealing the world’s greatest evil as a living breathing entity.

Again silence breaks out but Qrow is quick to cut through it with a huff of disbelief.

Qrow: Ha, so that’s why….you need men on the ground for when shit hits the fan.

He remarks, shaking his head as the reality of what this would really look like dawns on him.

Qrow: Hearing this….panic among the people is the least you can expect.

He comments, to which Ironwood quickly responds.

Ironwood: Panic is inevitable, and so are the grimm that follow. But I believe we are ready. Once Atlas has come to grips with the fight ahead I’ll use Amity Tower to spread word through all of Remnant.

He confessed.

A frightened Weiss jumps into the conversation.

Weiss: But everything will fall apart! Grimm will be everywhere!

She proclaims, only to be rebuffed by a calm rebuttal from her own sister.

Winter: You’re right. But Atlas is willing and prepared to assist.

Ironwood follows up her point with a sobering sentiment.

Ironwood: Trying to hide the truth from the world would be a death sentence. Salem has made her intent clear, and ignoring it will just lead us all to slaughter.

With that, the shutters and projector are retracted and the room is bathed in the fractured moon’s light once again.

Still conflicted, Qrow makes one final comment.

Qrow: Oz spent his whole life…many lives…keeping this secret.

Ironwood closes his eyes in contemplation and replies frankly.

Ironwood: I know. But things have changed. And without him here to guide us all I can do is use my best judgment.

He admits, walking back to his desk. However, the silence that follows feels….off. It’s too quiet, as if there was something they still need to say. He stops in his tracks and looks back.

Ironwood: What is it?

He asks and for the first time truly notices Oscar. The boy is staring up at him with an odd amount of familiarity and….grief.

He looks so….apologetic.

As if he owed the older man some kind of explanation or apology for a great wrongdoing. Yet this was the first time Ironwood had ever met him.

Standing slouched and timid, one arm rubbing the other Oscar looks down before straightening up and speaking directly to the general.

Oscar: Actually…O-Oz isn’t… completely gone.

He mutters. Qrow steps forward, gesturing towards the boy as he clarifies his statement.

Qrow: Uh, Oscar here is…he’s the next Oz.

Ironwood’s jaw almost drops, eyes widening with shock and….hope. He strides towards them with a quickness.

Ironwood: I can’t believe it…I’m so glad you’re here!

He exclaims a hint of glee in his voice, unlike anything the group had heard before. He gets down on one knee to be at eye level with his now much shorter mentor. For a second a flash of gold blooms in Oscar’s irises as he reaches out to the general but it fades away just as quickly. Skittering back like a wounded dog turning tail in fright.

Oscar: N-not quite…..He’s kind of…..gone, at the moment.

Oscar mutters, hands raising up in discomfort.

In an instead Ironwood’s hope turns to confusion. He looks down, disappointed.

Ironwood: That’s not normal.

He comments, then looks up making eye contact with the boy in front of him.

Ironwood: How did he-

Ruby: We don’t know.

Ruby cuts him off turning everyone’s attention to her as she continues.

Ruby: We were….in a train crash and ever since, well….suddenly Oz wasn’t there anymore.

She explains. Oscar looks over at Ruby in shock, mouth agape as if wanting to contradict her but, instead he looks down and his lips close into a firm line. Words left unspoken still sitting on his tongue, barred by the story Ruby presented and an unseen force hushing his voice.

To this Ironwood lets out a disappointed sigh.

Ironwood: That’s the worst news yet.

He admits before rising to his feet and turning his gaze to Ruby.

Ironwood: Did you learn anything new about the relics before he-

Ruby: He told us the lamp answered three questions…but all the questions were already used up already.

She interrupts again, her story leaving a hint of skepticism in the air.

Ironwood: Right, right. Ozpin told us the same once upon a time.

He replies plainly while walking back to his desk.

Ironwood: At least we have you, Oscar. You’re safe here in Atlas…Maybe we can figure out a way to bring Oz back or at least recall some of the knowledge he had.

He remarks kindly.

Oscar: Thank you, Sir. I mean uh, General….u-uh Ironwood?

He stutters, unsure of how to address the man. Ironwood gives him a small smile before retorting.

Ironwood: It’s James but Ironwood will do.

He quips, earning a slight nervous chuckle from the boy, calming his nerves.

Looking back at his desk Ironwood picks up the lamp and walks over to Ruby, offering it to her.

Ruby: You’re giving it back to me?

She asks.

Ironwood: After what happened with the Ace Ops I don’t want you to think I’m keeping anything from you. Especially something as important as this.

He raises the lamp a little before lowering it to Ruby’s grasp.

Ironwood: For the time being I think it’s safest with the people who brought it here. Just don’t take it outside the city.

He jests, handing the relic off to the young girl who replies with a simple “thank you.”

Ironwood: We must work together in order to fight Salem and win. Now if you’re all on board?

He asks. Ruby looks down in introspection for a moment before turning her head up to meet his gaze and answering for the group.

Ruby: …. Tell us how we can help.

Her acceptance earns a soft smile from the mostly metal military man as he lays out their next steps.

Ironwood: Good, because getting the Amity Tower up won’t be easy. But first there’s some things we need to get in order.

He remarks. Ruby looks a him curiously as she pockets the lamp.

Ruby: Like what?

Ironwood smirks at her question and points out the obvious.

Ironwood: Your clothes and weapons aren’t exactly up to our standards. And you’ll need some brushing up on your training. Fighting in the tundra is much more dangerous than it looks, so you’ll need to relearn a few things for safety's sake.

He declares. Realization and embarrassment dawn on the group as they look down at themselves and realize none of them were exactly dressed well, especially after traveling for so long. From an outside point of view, it was extremely apparent that they were in desperate need of new clothes and some weapons reinforcements if they didn’t want the cold to freeze them solid.

Piggybacking off his point, Winter jumps back in.

Winter: Remember this is Atlas. While assisting the military we will provide you with the best equipment our scientists can devise.

She regales before passing the buck back to her commanding officer.

Ironwood: It’s getting late. I’ve already made sleeping arrangements for you at the dorms so let’s start with a tour of the academy and clothes shopping tomorrow.

He offers, the group murmuring with excitement. As they celebrate Ironwood turns to Penny, who’s remained close at his side throughout the whole exchange.

Ironwood: Penny?

Penny: Yes?

Ironwood: Would you mind coming in tomorrow and showing them around? You know the academy best and have a better grasp of the city’s streets than even I do so you’d make a perfect guide. I’ll supply you with everything you need, if you’re interested that is.

Penny’s eyes light up with an elated eagerness. After the night she’s had, heck the month she’s had, a day out showing off her workplace and home to friends was just what she needed.

Penny: Of course, I’d love to!

She exclaims joyously, Ironwood smiling again at her seemingly never-ending zeal.

Ironwood: Thank you. Now go home and get some rest, I’ll escort everyone to their rooms for the night-

Winter: Actually-

Winter interjects stepping in front of Ironwood and cutting him off.

Winter: -I’d like to show them to their quarters.

She states, striding forward and up to her sister.

Winter: There’s few things I still need explained and my quarters are close to the students so I might as well show them the way.

She pats her beloved little sister’s shoulder, looking down at her with a bone-chilling grin.

Winter: Besides, I haven’t seen my darling sister in ages. We have so much to catch up on and I simply can’t wait till morning.

She muses, her tone sickeningly sweet as she flashes a smile that does not reach her eyes. Weiss’s face goes ghostly pale, she looks over Winter’s shoulder and pleadingly at Ironwood. Unfortunately for her, the general just smiles and shrugs.

Ironwood: If you insist.

With that the impromptu meeting is wrapped up with the new allies being sent to the dorms, Winter giving her sister a strict lecture along the way, and Penny heading home for the night. She’s told to return late in the morning and is sent off to get some much-deserved rest. By the time she’s back home, Pietro has already gone to bed. However, he’s left a bag of takeout for her on the table with a note telling her to at least have a bite before she goes to bed. Realizing she hasn’t had so much as a drink of water since breakfast Penny has a few bites of cold fried rice before putting the rest away and heading up to her room. She brushes her teeth, showers, washes, and dries her hair then gets into her pajamas. As she whines down, plugging up herself and her scroll once she’s in bed, Penny texts Whitley good night.

She had been so preoccupied with literally everything that texting him back slipped her mind completely. Even now her head was still swirling with new information, so many things had happened in one night, and she had almost no time to digest even half of it. There was still so much she wanted to talk through, even if only to organize her thoughts. But it was late and she had to get some sleep so her mind could be rested and well for tomorrow’s activities.

However, not even thirty seconds after the text is sent Whitley calls her. The ringing and his contact suddenly appearing on her screen makes Penny jolt, causing her to lose her grip on her scroll. She fumbles to grab it out of the air before it crashes to the floor. Penny’s half fallen off the bed by the time she gets a good hold of the device again, letting out a sigh of relief and pulling herself back up before answering.

Whitley: Good evening, gorgeous. How has your day been?

He greets her, voice slightly deepened with drowsiness. The juxtaposition of the silence with his surly greeting immediately turns Penny into a blushing mess. Her guard drops through the floor as her face lights up, her bright red freckled cheeks resembling strawberries as she opens her mouth to reply.

Penny: Why do you have to say things like that all the time?!

She whines, pouting through her flustered state as she hears Whitley chuckling at her plea.

Whitley: I can’t help it, flustering you gives me life. Now tell me, how was your day? You had me worried sick with that text. I’ve been waiting up for hours just to hear from you.

He quips. Penny sighs and flops down on her side as she regales the day's events.

Penny: Sorry about that. There was a grimm stampede that took longer than expected to clear. Then there was the highjacking—

Penny’s jaw clamps close and her pupils blow up as she recalls some unfortunately relevant information.

Penny: Oh no…. no, no, no, no, no! He has no idea his sister helped steal a military airship and got arrested sneaking into Mantle! And since she’s going to be at the academy it won’t be long before people notice she’s returned to Atlas! And since Jacques Schnee deals directly with Ironwood—Ugh! There’s no way this won’t come up at some point and if he finds out what she did he’ll—AH!

Penny’s mind spirals into crisis mode, dizzied by all the consequences Weiss’s return could have on Whitley. She had left on a bad note twice, the situation in the manor getting worse both times as a result and now she had returned in one of the most reputation-damaging ways. Gods know what Jacques would do if and when he finds out. As her parent, this can and would reflect on him, especially since she could have easily been released back to his custody if she asked to be.

But she didn’t. And that would raise a lot of questions that Jacques would not like answering.

Penny really doesn't know what to do here. This is critical information that will affect a lot of people but it’s also attached to a lot of classified information that couldn’t be made public yet. As she tries to calculate what she should and shouldn’t tell him Penny goes quiet. After almost half a minute of silence, Whitley pipes up to get her attention.

Whitley: Uh Penny? Are you still there?

His voice brings her back to reality, she blinks as her eyes refocus on the room around her and the conversation she’s in.

Penny: Y-yeah! I’m here! Sorry about that I was just thinking…. a lot.

Whitley: Oh really?

He chirps, echoed by a chuckle.

Whitley: Must have been an eventful day if you’re still ruminating over it, even when you’re talking to me.

Penny: Yeah, there’s just……so many things I need to think about.

She sighs, propping her head up on her pillow. Whitley can almost hear the conflict buzzing around in her head and reassures her.

Whitley: Well, don’t keep it all to yourself. Tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head.

He says, eliciting a smile from the plucky redhead. His playful but caring tone soothing her heavy heart and in that moment she decided that it was only right to tell him what she could.

Penny:… Actually, there’s something I think you need to know. And it’s really….really not good so please, stay calm when I say this.

She asks. Whitley raises an eyebrow at the sudden shift in their chatter but agrees nonetheless.

Whitley: Go ahead.

Penny takes a deep breath and describes how she came across Ruby and her team while chasing down oddly behaving grimm. She recalls the situation up to them getting arrested in the street after abandoning the stolen vehicle. For a few seconds, Whitley doesn't respond or even breathe. Penny’s about to ask if he’s okay when he chimes back in.

Whitley:…..And you’re certain Weiss and her team were the ones who stole the airship?

He asks, less for clarification but confirmation as if he wasn’t sure this was actually happening right now. Penny hears the restrained tension in Whitley’s voice but can’t lie about a scenario she saw play out right in front of her.

Penny:….Yes. The officers who arrested them have footage from the video transmitter and the outer cameras. The system is coded to turn on when a ship isn’t given direct clearance when entering the city in case of highjacking or pilot distress. That and….they admitted to the crime after being questioned.

She admits, half according to the evidence from the arrest and the other from what she witnessed in Ironwood’s office. On the other end of the line, Whitley sighs deeply in contempt at the information that was just dropped on him.

Whitley:….I see.

He states while rubbing his temple.

Whitley: Excuse me for a moment.

He mutes the call, puts the scroll down by his pillow, grabs the one next to it, and screams into it!

Whitley: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! OF ALL THE WAYS SHE COULD HAVE—WHY IS SHE ALWAYS SO DAMN DESTRUCTIVE?! CAN’T SHE GO ONE DAY WITHOUT CAUSING TROUBLE?!

He thought, absolutely seething that his reckless older sister had somehow topped her bad behavior yet again! To commit such a crime and get arrested when she could have just come home or gone to Winter? The thought itself drives Whitley insane! He can’t understand it!

Why would she do this!

How could she!

Whitley needed to know.

He puts down the pillow, picks up his scroll, and unmutes the call.

Whitley: I’m back.

He states, stuffing down the frustration and anger still simmering in his chest to regain his composure.

Whitley: And I’d like to apologize on my sister’s behalf. I’m sorry for whatever trouble she caused you and any other members of the military with her behavior.

He says graciously, the tone of his voice making the line sound rehearsed. He verbally lowers his head in apology with such grace and humility, the act was practiced to perfection and that made Penny’s stomach turn.

Penny: You don’t need to apologize! Weiss is at fault for her own actions and can apologize for herself!

Whitley: As If that’ll happen. Still, as her brother, it’s only fair that I acknowledge the wrongdoings of my family member.

He insists before proceeding with the question he really wanted to ask.

Whitley: And if it’s not too much to ask I’d also like to know where she’s being held at the moment and if there’s bond.

He requested, knowing that both pieces of information would be crucial in handling the problem before it got out of hand. There was no doubt in Whitley’s mind that word of Weiss’s return and arrest would get around by nightfall at the latest. He was on a fixed timeline and needed to control the narrative as much as possible to minimize the backlash this type of scandal would have on the Schnee name. But his quiet plotting is stopped in its tracks by Penny’s reply.

Penny: She’s actually no longer under arrest and is currently staying at the Atlas Huntsmen Academy Dormitory.

Whitley blinks, bewildered by what he’s just heard. He knows the law well enough that he could tell that crimes as severe as highjacking and illegal entry to a capital city would net anyone at least a night in holding and the possibility of a strong sentence if found guilty. But somehow Weiss had escaped all of these outcomes and was instead given lodging by an institute run by the very military she had committed those same crimes against!

Whitley: I’m sorry but….how is that possible?

He asks, trying his best not to sound shocked. Penny understands his confusion and explains as best she can.

Penny: That’s classified information but for now none of the people involved will be detained for the incident due to special circumstances.

Whitley: I see, then what will happen to them?

Penny: All will be joining the Atlas Huntsman Academy for now. I’m actually giving them a tour of the academy and taking them clothes shopping tomorrow.

That statement shocks Whitley even more, forcing out a choked chuckle of disbelief.

Whitley:…..My, what personable treatment for a galley of thieves.

He quips, a tinge of irritation at his sister’s avoidance of punishment lacing his words. The resentment doesn’t go unnoticed by Penny who decides to address it.

Penny: I know this doesn’t seem fair but there is a good reason for the leniency.

Whitley: And let me guess, that reason is also classified?

He remarks, catching Penny in a bind.

Penny: …..Yes, it is. I’m sorry.

Whitley: It’s Fine, Penny I understand. You’re a government agent first and foremost, I know you can’t tell me everything all the time.

That sentence hits a nerve, it was far truer than Whitley knew, and made Penny's stomach churn with guilt. She swallows a breath to push down her emotional bile and continue the conversation.

Penny: Ye-yeah, thanks for understanding….So, how was your day?!

The conversation shifts to its normal lax mood and ends half an hour later. The two lovers say their good nights and Penny goes to sleep feeling a little more at ease but not wholly departed from the apprehension she’s accumulated.

Tomorrow was a new day, one full of excitement and great possibilities. She was going to take her best friend around the school and the cities she puts her heart and soul into protecting.

Surely that would be a happy occasion?

In the morning Penny gets up and has breakfast with her dad, filling him in on what happened after they parted ways the night before. She leaves a little later than usual and without her signature rocket boots. This was more of a field trip so carrying too much weaponry would be a burden. When she arrives at the academy a front desk worker offers her a tour guide kit. It’s nothing much just some maps of the academy, some bottles of water, a academy branded mini parade flag, and an academy branded visor with the words “Tour Guide” printed on it.

Attendant: Oh and the General wanted to have this too.

She hands Penny a thick envelope, which opens to find a list, a card, and short note. Penny accepts the envelope and the kit gratefully, tying her hair back into a ponytail and clipping her bow to it to make room for the visor before heading towards the dormitory to meet up with the group.

When she arrives everyone is waiting for her, all looking a bit haggard and half awake. Parallel to them was Winter, who in contrast appeared as well-rested and put together as she normally does.

Winter: I took the liberty of rounding them up for you.

She admits plainly, half the group groaning at the reminder of her brutal retrieval.

Penny: Thank you, Winter.

Winter: They missed their wake-up call and haven’t had breakfast so make sure to drop by the cafeteria before lunch ends.

She chirps before leaving the group to carry on without her. Left behind to take charge, Penny stands confidently in front of the party of newcomers and begins their excursion!

Penny: Salutations everyone and welcome to the Atlas Huntsmen Academy! I’ll be taking you on a tour of the facilities then we’ll go shopping for new weather-appropriate clothing for all of you. Bathroom breaks will be available throughout and we’ll stop for lunch at the cafeteria. This will be a long tour so please take a map and a bottle of water.

She offers. Everyone takes a map and a water bottle from the kits.

Penny: Thank you, now please follow me and stay close. Let the tour begin!

She cheers, raising up her little flag and marching forward into the halls with Team RWBY, JNR, Oscar, and Qrow trailing behind her. The cluster of huntsmen saunter from area to area, passing every corner of the vast campus while Penny explains the functions of the facilities. She puts her all into explaining how the much more high-tech school works and even goes out of her way to demonstrate some things to get the point across. She takes them to an empty classroom and draws and graphs on the e-chalkboard, shows them the hologram diagrams from the school’s grimm compendium, and even demos some of the features of the school’s advanced training rooms. There’s less fanfare for these technological marvels than she expected, just some nods of acknowledgment and a few “ohs” and “ahs” at some of the more impressive sights. The only one who seems to be fully paying attention to Penny’s musings is Oscar but it’s more a quiet observance rather than proper participation. The only thing that gets the group talking is Jaune Arc’s frequent bathroom breaks, starting less than ten minutes into the tour as he guzzled his water down not long after they started. They’re only halfway through the tour when the group stops for the third time, huddled by the men’s bathroom near the cafeteria as Jaune rushes off to relieve himself again.

Weiss: Really, again?

Yang: Come on man.

Blake: That can’t be healthy.

Ruby: We told him not to drink it all.

The all-girls team murmurs as the blonde boy dashes off to pee again. Penny stands by waiting with everyone else but can’t help but alienated. Despite her leading the charge no one was really engaging with her, not that she hadn’t been trying. Just a second before she had been showing them the main electronic bulletin board for this floor and as she was explaining what type of information usually appears on it an announcement highlighting her achievement as employee of the month flashed onto the screen, ID photo and all. Even though she was told she’d be holding the title for a while Penny couldn’t help the blush of embarrassment that blazed onto her cheeks. But this was a good segway to bring herself into the conversation so she puts on a confident smile and goes further into her description.

Penny: As you can see this board also displays the achievements of extraordinary local huntsmen. I myself was recently named—

But her talking point is instantly undercut by Jaune raising his hand to grab her attention while doing an obvious trying not to wet myself dance. And even once he’s disappeared into the bathroom Penny’s still not being included. Everyone was paired off from the start, Ruby with her team, Ren and Nora sticking to Jaune or each other, and Qrow minding Oscar. There was really no room for her to exist with them or break into whatever bubble they’d locked themselves in since they got here.

Penny: Maybe we should take a break for lunch. We’ve been walking for a while and they haven’t eaten today, so they’ve probably been hungry for a while now.

Penny muses, searching for any way to better the situation and get more involved with the group. As if on cue Nora starts to whine.

Nora: Ah! I’m starving! When’s our lunch break?!

She groans, obviously hangry from the long walk and lack of breakfast. Ren is trying to calm her down when Penny steps in.

Penny: We’ll be going to the cafeteria and having lunch as soon as Jaune returns from the restroom.

She states cheerfully, hoping to brighten the mood with the news. Instead, Nora starts shouting into the boy's bathroom for Jaune to come out while Ren holds her back from actually storming in to get him. Before long they’re queued up in the lunch line, trays in hand. There’s some whispers when they enter the room, the group of unfamiliar faces sans the two well-known figures causing a collective sense of curiosity. They continue to watch them as the group gets their food and Penny leads them to some open seats. Nora sits down with an absolutely enormous amount of food, nearly drawing a crowd as she chows down, while the rest eat a more reasonable portion nearby.

Penny doesn’t get much, just a salad and some water, but still eats with them to stay close and hopefully sparks some kind of conversation. Everyone is still interacting in their groups until Yang looks up mid-bite to see Penny eating and cocks her head.

Yang: Wait, you can eat?

She asks, genuinely confused by the sight. This draws the group’s attention to Penny and soon they all stare at her with interest as they register that yes the android is actually eating food. Knowing she can’t waste this chance Penny quickly swallows and clears her throat to answer.

Penny: Yes! My restoration allowed for the installation of a biofuel converter thus I can digest and enjoy food for energy.

She states cheerfully, happy to finally be noticed. But rather than interest, Yang replies with more confusion.

Yang: Huh….you get any other upgrades?

Penny: Yes many! All my senses have been refined and advanced, I have a sense of taste and smell now, and my sense of touch has also been vastly improved. I can sense many more things around me and can gauge them easily, like temperature and wind speed. My reflexes are also much tighter now that I can feel impacts and recoil better. No more bumping into people and flopping to the ground for me.

She jokes, invoking their first meeting with her to hopefully muster up some nostalgia to help carry the exchange forward. But this falls flat as Yang just shrugs and continues eating.

This one-sided exchange persists even after lunch and throughout the rest of the tour. Penny is little more than a guide leading them around the campus. They round up the tour at the academy’s entrance, Penny leaves the group to turn in her flag and visor while checking if transportation for their next activity has been arranged. Thankfully Ironwood had everything set up for their excursion in advance. Penny thanks the attendant and hurries back to the group to usher them outside. As they leave she explains what the next steps are going to be.

Penny: Okay, the general has authorized the purchase of necessary clothing for all of you. You may choose from whatever is available at any shop we go to out of a pre-approved list of huntsman-grade apparel stores and can make requests for alterations if needed. There’s also a requirement for combat-ready winter gear for missions in deeper parts of the tundra and personal hygiene products for everyone.

She explains, there’s a murmur of approval before Oscar raises his hand to ask a question.

Oscar: Uh, how are we paying for this?

He asks, Penny fishes out the envelope and pulls out a midnight black card from it.

Penny: The general has offered some of his personal savings to help outfit this group as guests of the kingdom. I’ll be overseeing the card and receipts so please come to me to make any purchases if you find something you like.

She quips, getting an oddly knowing smile and nod from Oscar.

Oscar: Huh, should have guessed.

He states, voice a tad bit more mature than Penny remembered it sounding the night before. But it seems she’s the only one to notice as they make their way to the large trucks waiting for them. Penny opens the door and holds it for everyone to get in. She talks to the driver about which shop on the list they should go to first and once everything is set she gets in and sits down. As the truck starts moving Penny takes another peek at the letter that was enclosed in the envelope. Along with instructions and the list of stores, there was a little message at the bottom for her.

Ps: Get yourself a nice outfit too, you earned it.

Signed, Uncle James.

It was a handwritten addition put at the very bottom and filled Penny’s heart with warmth. Despite everything going on and a lot going wrong, she could always count on her Uncle James to recognize her efforts even when she had a hard time recognizing them herself.

Soon the trucks pull out into the streets and the shopping trip begins. As they journey around for new apparel Penny gets an up-close look at her compatriots’ varying fashion preferences.

First none of them seem to be thinking of the varying weather patterns of Atlas or Mantle when picking out clothes. The amount of exposed skin between them gives Penny a bit of a shiver and she makes a mental note to remind everyone that they are required to get winter gear before they go back. Secondly, they all have very different aesthetics with differing readability. For instance, Yang seems to prefer a rougher cool girl style while Blake enjoys sleek body-hugging attire. Ruby was bombastic as ever with her garments, going with almost punk style mixed with some rustic touches. She even gets her hair done in a much more spiked and wild look that highlights the red tips of her hair but keeps her trademark cape untouched.

Then there was Weiss who showed little interest until they came across a more elegant and refined store frequented by more style-focused huntsmen like Ivori Lace. The store even has its own in-house stylist whom Weiss consults with while putting together her new look.

And the results are…….

Penny: Oh my god.

Penny bites her tongue to keep herself from questioning out loud what Weiss was thinking as she walks out of the changing room. She’s outfitted in this double-layered light blue and white gown that reaches to her knees with a thick corset-like wrap around her waist and near-knee-length boots. She also had on a short puffy puffy-sleeved dark blue jacket and black opera gloves with red gem decorations on both middle fingers.

It was loud, beautiful, and very regal but almost completely unfit for her fighting style! There was no way she could move well in that dress with her ballet-like fighting moves! The thing would cut her stride down so much that Penny doubted if Weiss could even jump in it much less leap or dodge. It was truly the most beautifully impractical choice of dress Penny had ever seen.

Weiss: Hmm, still needs a few touches.

She muses before walking right back into the changing room. Penny forces her jaw close so it won't drop at the absurdity of the situation in front of her. Seeing as it will be a while before she’ll be ready to check out Penny wonders off to look at things for herself. She had picked up a few pieces from some less pricey stores earlier on but with little to do beyond paying the bill Penny ops to kill some time by drifting off on her own to inspect the shop’s wares. Looking through the accessories Penny goes up and down the display to find something nice but reasonably priced.

Soon she spots a pair of gold earrings of a circle encasing a star with a smaller circle weaving around it and a small chain decorated with a pink ribbon and a section of dangling pink pearls hanging down from it. As she gazes at the set through the glass Penny locks eyes with a familiar pair of fuchsia eyes and jumps back!

Penny; Ah!

Octavia: Ah!

Octavia jumps back and almost falls to the floor but is saved by Esther catching her from behind. Penny rushes around to the other side of the counter to check on the two, helping Octavia back up to her feet. Once she’s got her bearings again, Octavia brightens up as she fully registers Penny’s presence.

Octavia: Penny! Oh my god, it’s so nice to see you!

She half shouts sweetly, giving the redhead a quick greeting hug before pulling her close for a chat. After spending much of the day being looked past Penny welcomes the conversation and greets Octavia warmly.

Penny: Hi Octavia! It’s nice to see you too. And you too Esther!

She chirps, eliciting a small smile from her shy greenette friend.

Octavia: What are you doing here?

Penny: Just some clothes shopping.

Octavia: What a coincidence, we’re just looking around for some new accessories. I was thinking about calling you to see if you were free to join us and here you are!

Penny: Oh, I thought your dad didn’t like you going out alone?

Octavia: Yes but I’m not! I have Esther-

She pulls the shy girl close into a side hug.

Octavia: -And Giorgio.

She points a few yards over to a very tall bald olive-skinned man dressed in a black suit and sunglasses, clearly her bodyguard. Penny gazes over at him and waves before turning back to the girls.

Penny: Wow, he’s big.

Octavia: Don’t worry, under all that muscle he’s nothing but a big sweetie.

Penny: I’d hope so.

Octavia: Anyway, what were you looking at?

Penny: Just a pair of earrings.

Octavia: The one’s with the gold star and ribbon, yeah?

They look back into the case as Penny points out the earrings, soon the three start conversing over the set. Octavia and Penny both love them while Esther prefers a simpler pair of wing-shaped diamond studs which leads Octavia to point out that those were part of a matching jewelry set that would look great with the blouse she got earlier. In the blink of an eye, they’re giving each other suggestions and calling a clerk to open the case so they can take a better look.

As she’s looking into the counter’s mini vanity mirror while holding up an earring to her head to see how it might look, Penny catches a glimpse of Ruby and her friends gathered around Weiss was still tweaking her outfit. She had been so caught up chatting with Octavia and Esther that she’d almost forgotten why she was there in the first place.

Chapter 1: Hello Again Old Friend

Of all the ways Penny had expected to spend her night, working overtime killing hoards of grimm that just didn’t seem to end was not one of them! It’s just wave after wave of them storming the breach! Even with the area cleared of civilians, huntsmen on the ground and Penny taking out as many as she can as fast as she can there just always seems to be more on the horizon.

Penny: They just keep coming! I don’t understand! The weather isn’t prime for this type of movement, and the public’s emotional state isn’t sufficiently negative enough to draw a few packs much less a huge stampede! So what’s drawing them here?!

She ponders, as she decapitates another set of beowolves. After much effort, Penny lands on a nearby rooftop when the last of the pack is eradicated. There’s more coming but they’re still a good distance away so she takes the moment to catch her breath. Scanning her systems Penny was still good on power and her aura was holding strong.

Penny: No damage thus far but I’ve been fighting for a while now. I’ll need to replenish my charge as soon as I get home or I’ll be running on my reserve tomorrow.

She looks out to the horizon, her advanced sight catching a smaller pack of grimm still heading toward the city from the mountains.

Penny: But at this rate, I might not get home until midnight.

She whines internally, weariness from the non-stop grimm slaying getting to her. And as if to add to her growing fatigue Penny feels a distinct emptiness in the pit of her stomach.

Penny: Right, I skipped lunch today.

She sighs, running her gloved hand over her abdomen.

Penny: I should call Dad, let him know I’ll be late, and to leave my dinner in the fridge.

She muses while taking out her scroll. Immediately Penny’s met with a wall of notifications on her home screen. From newest at the top and oldest at the bottom, it seems almost everyone in her contacts had called, messaged, or left a voicemail during the stampede. Starting from the bottom up there was a confirmation text and well wishes from Whitley, him reminding her to be safe out in the fray and not push herself too hard. Then there was an outraged voicemail from Ciel who was absolutely fuming after discovering the mecha she helped assemble and only just finished recently had been sc in a day. Above that were a series of missed calls, voicemails, and texts from Team FNKI, each member having tried to get through to her at some point in the night.

Neon: [Yo, Pen-Pop! You got to get down here! There’s like a gazillion grimm heading towards town right now!]

Flynt: [Ey yo, Penny! Things are getting pretty loud in Mantle, we got grimm coming in hot and fast. Could really use an assist.]

Ivori: [Hey Penny, It’s Ivori. Did you get the alert about the grimm situation? If you did, please get down here fast. The numbers aren’t looking too good and we could really use some help.]

Kobalt: [Dude! Get down here now! Shit is getting real! There are grimm coming in from the ice like crazy! We need backup!]

The texts from the music-loving team were all different flavors of urgent in tone but that quickly fizzled out after a certain time, most likely when Penny arrived on the scene. At the very top, there’s a notification of a missed call and a voicemail from her dad. With a little time left to spare Penny plays it on speaker mood.

Pietro: Hey Sweetpea! Daddy’s going out to help some people at the clinic. I might be back late so order yourself something to eat for dinner, love you!

His cheerful but soft voice states from the device’s speaker as the message plays. With a faint sigh, Penny locks the screen and pockets her scroll again. She knew what clinic he was talking about, it was a volunteer-run ward for people who could not afford repairs on their prosthetics or had outdated models that needed special care. Pietro had been at the front lines of cybernetics and knew all the tricks of the most common replacements by heart. He’d train the younger volunteers or if the tech was too delicate and niche, would come in himself to make repairs. His continued help was one of the many reasons he was so beloved in his community and why he would never leave the city despite his success as an inventor.

Penny: So we’re both on call tonight.

She thinks fondly, proud that her ever-caring father was just as tenacious when it came to helping people as she was. It was similarities like this that proved their relation despite the lack of blood between them.

Penny: Maybe I should go pick him up? We could go out for dinner on the way home.

She mused, getting up and stretching out as the next wave of grimm began to close in on the wall’s breach.

Break time was over, it’s back to work alongside the other huntsmen for her.

Penny dives back into the fray with a clear head and newfound zeal. The sooner this was over the sooner she could go have dinner with her dad.

Said lovable robotics genius was currently busy repairing an old client's eyes for what felt like the millionth time. After many decades Pietro was the only one who could readily restore the old huntress’s sight for various reasons. The most obvious being that as a spunky fearless spitfire, Maria had managed to mess up her eyes so many times that most of the other doctors blacklisted her for not treating their time with respect and her medical equipment like a toy. She would return to Mantle so often back in the day that most in the field knew her by first name. Or rather they recognize the tired sign of “Hello Maria,” from their receptionist every time she comes in. Pietro was literally the only person who still put up with her and that was out of kindness and a sense of duty. So when a call came in and he could hear her howling in the background Pietro came right over to handle it.

Dawning his thick brown work gloves, Pietro gets to work escorting Maria to an exam table and starts on the repairs. Doesn’t take more than a quick glance at the components for him to figure out the issue. The most obvious being normal wear and tear for this model of prosthetic eyes, older sets like hers were far past warranty and licensed to face issues more often than newer ones. But upon further inspection, there were clearly other issues causing errors in her vision.

Ones that only justify every other doctor’s reluctance to deal with her.

Pietro: You been roughhousing again, haven’t ya?

He asks matter-of-factly, looking over the inner workings of her eyes he could tell they’ve sustained damage that couldn’t be done by accident. Rather they had to be caused by direct actions that put the user in some kind of danger. This time it seems to be electrical damage from an overcharge, but not from a simple accident like misconnecting cables on a car battery. No this was more like taking a small bolt of lightning to the face and the eyes absorbing all of the energy. Something he didn’t put past her.

Honestly, Pietro was so used to Maria’s antics that it didn’t even occur to him to be mad at her for her reckless behavior. Or rather Pietro had seen this so many times that he was numb to it, if not downright desensitized. At some point, probably not long after Penny was born, a part of his brain just decided Maria’s foolishness was not worth the stress aches and stopped reacting. Years added to his life really.

Maria: What do you think?! Can’t an old huntress do her job without being preached at?!

She huffs, flailing her little arms and legs around which Pietro has to dodge. Pulling himself and his tools back until she settles down again then getting back to work. With nothing but empty air between them the old pals begin chatting.

Pietro: I’m not preaching at you and you’ve been retired for damn near twelve years now.

Maria: Ha! The reaper doesn’t know the meaning of retirement, she’s as permanent as death itself!

Pietro: Well, she better learn before the real reaper comes and takes her ass sooner rather than later.

He retorts, earning an annoyed huff from the aging ex-huntress.

Maria: You’re no fun.

Pietro: Youhave enough for the both of us and then some.

He jokes, this time earning a more annoyed grumble as Maria’s already minimal patience starts to run out.

Maria: Just fix me up already! I got places to be and those youngsters aren’t gonna sit around here waiting on me all night!

Pietro: Fine, fine, just need to make a few more tweaks here and replace this and that.

He chimes, diligently removing and replacing components then connecting them to the sensory system. It’s a task done with patient consideration and a delicate touch, an hour or two at most but without a master’s touch, one mistake could mean a full replacement.

Occasionally he glances up at the company she brought in with her. They had followed close behind Maria, never veering too far or out of sight while leaving him plenty of room to work. Which was fine, this wasn’t a particularly difficult procedure for him and didn’t require a completely sterile room.

Still, Pietro can tell something’s off.

They’re huntsmen, at least most of them, anyone could tell from a mile away just by how they carried themselves not to mention being armed to the teeth. Aside from the slightly grayed young gentleman they were all young, probably newly licensed or still in the academy. They had that air of immaturity, like little kids who know they did something wrong but don’t want to get caught. Which wasn’t odd for kids, especially in such a dangerous profession where even a small mistake could be fatal. No shame in being shaken after a hard day of monster killing.

What was odd is that Pietro didn’t recognize a single one of them, except the blonde girl.

Specifically her right arm.

It was the first thing he’d worked on aside from saving Penny from her comatose state after the fall of Beacon. It was a distraction, something that kept his mind busy so the worry of losing his daughter wouldn’t overtake him. He’d been given a profile to work with but his mind was so frazzled Pietro hadn’t paid much attention to any personal details.

Still, he knew that arm.

But what was she doing here? Her prosthetic was shipped off to Vale a while before the borders were closed.

So how and why was she here?

James would have told him if a huntsman patient was coming into the city. With how tight security was at the moment a custom prosthetic was an easy identifier and with what was coming they needed all the trustworthy manpower they could get. And they needed every soldier able-bodied, armed, and alert in case the worst happened sooner rather than later. So as one of the most adept with the technology, Pietro was the default head of the cybernetics section of the military’s medical department.

And yet he hadn’t heard a peep.

Apprehensive now, Pietro keeps working but makes sure his scroll is within reach. He wasn’t a fighter but had plenty on speed dial in case things got hairy. For now, he just treats his patient and keeps an SOS on standby just in case.

Back at the breach, the stampede is finally thinning out. The huge packs of grimm had been reduced to a few strays. For now, the hard part was over and things were calming back down.

Penny’s still hovering over the area, surveying from above while those down below catch their breath. It was far past dinner time, people were tired and hungry, and even the assisting drones, and auto turrets were running low on ammo after the nonstop firing at targets. Teams were packing up, either waiting for transport or figuring out where they were going to catch a late meal or alternative lodging for the evening. So weary from battle that the trek back home or to the academy dorms seemed like far too high a hurdle to leap over, especially on an empty stomach.

And when the last of the wave reaches the breach it’s Team FNKI that steps up to wrap up the conflict quickly, taking down the smaller pack with ease. When the bodies dissipate into nothing but ash on the ground everyone breathes a sigh of relief.

Kobalt: AND THAT’S QUITTING TIME!!!

The rowdy bluenette shouts, pumping an ash-coated fist in the air in triumph, elated at the defeat of the beasts and the end of his workday! His teammates seem to share his enthusiasm as they sheath their weapons and turn to leave for the night.

But the moment their backs are turned something rushes past.

Two beowulves, smaller than the average ones seen in packs scamper onto the streets and dash down the road faster than any of their kind had before. Everyone is stunned by the sudden appearance of the small grimm and their speed. Penny is the first to recover and quickly sets her sights on the fleeing pair.

Penny: I’ll catch the strays! Hold a line around the breach, they might not have been alone!

She commands before flying off after the fleeing grimm.

This is bad! Grimm rarely made it this far passed the wall! Penny made sure of that as best she could but there was no way she could have foreseen this! And they’re exhibiting very bizarre hunting behavior, racing past buildings and the few civilians on the street, charging forward without even a glance at anything around them. This was not normal, grimm always attacked the first emotional being in their range, yet these two ignored everything in their path. Like hunting dogs who’ve caught the scent of prey except they were avoiding anything that could be considered prey.

It made no sense and was the antithesis to everything Penny knew about grim nature. A dangerous unknown that could be disastrous but with them too close to populated areas to cut down safely Penny could only give chase until she found an opening.

Penny: Where are they going?

She questions, keeping her eyes trained on the beasts while keeping in firing range. The moment she gets the opportunity, Penny’s going to strike fast and land her hits. She can’t afford to miss her shot with all the abnormalities in behavior she’s seen today. She needed to stop this now before the night got any worse. In her haste, she doesn't hear her scroll go off with another notification.

“Stolen Aircraft Located! Special Officers In Route To Apprehend Highjacking Suspects.”

At the clinic, Pietro finally finishes up Maria’s repairs. Shining a penlight in her eyes from left to right, watching as the optics follow the glow and the shutter lids adjust to better focus on the light.

Pietro: Tracking seems good, good reaction time, lids are back in sync.

He turns off the light, pockets it and moves back to give Maria some room.

Pietro: Looks like everything’s back in order. We’re done here.

Maria: About time!

Maria shouts, sitting upright and throwing her cape back over her shoulders before hopping off of the medical bed. Landing on her feet she snatches her cane from its place leaning next to the bed and straightens herself up, ready to go after a long operation.

Pietro: Keep ‘em clean and stop manhandling ‘em them and you should be good for a year.

He advises, half joking and half serious. Just the normal advice a doctor gives his patient even if he knows she won’t listen.

Maria: Yeah, yeah, keep your suggestions to yourself, Dr. Killjoy. I got stuff to do and you’ve held me up long enough!

She declares before strolling off to the party of young huntsmen waiting for her. As the group gets ready to leave Pietro sneakily takes a few photos of them, trying his best to get clear shots of their faces without being noticed. He’s about to text the General but a sound shakes his focus away from his scroll and to the streets outside.

Pietro knew that sound.

He knows it should not be this far into the city.

And he could tell that the thumping of big ashen paws against pavement was only getting closer by the second.

The huntsmen hear it too and dash out of the clinic Maria trailing behind as fast she can while Pietro moves to the windows. It’s just as he feared, turning the corner at the edge of the street were two beowulf grimm heading toward the clinic!

The huntsmen unsheathe their weapons and ready themselves for a confrontation but before the grimm can even reach them the beasts are obliterated by two quick neon-green energy blasts!

Recognizing her signature heavy attack Pietro immediately looks to the sky and sees Penny with her swords drawn, the light from her eyes, brooch, and boots making her shine against the black of the night sky.

Pietro: That’s my baby!

He thought proudly, his moment of anxiety passing swiftly as Penny glided down to the ground.

Once she lands, Penny scouts the area to assess why exactly the grimm charged past everything to go in this specific direction. Looking around she notices some huntsmen standing in front of the clinic.

Penny: Maybe they saw-

Her thoughts stop immediately and Penny lets a loud gasp when her eyes focus in on their faces. The second she can perceive what she’s seeing Penny forces in one specific face and recognizes her immediately.

Around her natural height, dressed heavily in red and black with black-to-crimson red gradient hair, pale skin, and silver eyes! There was only one person in the world she knew who looked like that! And seeing her made Penny’s heart jump with excitement and joy! A bright smile illuminating her face as her eyes light up with glee!

She doesn’t even think twice, Penny reels back on her heels-

Penny: Sal-

-puts power to her feet, setting her boots jets to go off the second her feet are off the ground-

Penny:-u-

-then lunges forward with her arms wide open aiming right at her target!

Penny:-tations!

In a flash, Penny tackle hugs Ruby like she’s never hugged her before! Stopping just shy of knocking her off her feet, she pulls her in a tight embrace!

It’s been so long! Penny couldn’t believe she was actually here! Her best friend was really here! In her city! There was so much to catch up on! So much she needed to say and so much she wanted to know! After all this time Penny felt like she was her old self again, the rush of nostalgia bringing her back to simpler times.

She pulls back, wanting to get a good look at her best friend’s face again, and begin their joyous reunion!

But when she meets her gaze, Penny doesn’t see the same bright-eyed enthusiasm she knows Ruby for. Instead, she sees confusion, disbelief, and even apathy. Ruby’s gaze was so….cold. There was no sudden rush of realization or joy, just an almost bored confusion. That look sends a stabbing pain through Penny’s chest, and the smile on her face threatens to drop from the sting. But she persists, pushing the feeling down and carrying on.

This was a happy moment, right? Her best friend was here and they could finally catch up and hang out like she always wanted! No need to overthink her expressions like this! It’d be a waste to ruin the moment over something so small.

Penny: I’m so happy to see you! I’ve missed you so much!

She exclaims, pulling back to take one more look at her dear friend before letting go. She steps back a bit to put some space between them. Looking at all of them again, Penny recognizes all but two of them though she makes an educated guess that the short elderly woman with the prosthetic eyes was the reason they were in the area.

Penny: She must be the patient Dad needed to see.

She thought, glancing around at the group of mostly familiar faces. There were the remaining members of Team JNPR, Jaune Arc, Nora Valkyrie, and Lie Ren alongside an unfamiliar young boy who hardly looked like a hunter but had an odd atmosphere about him. She doesn’t look their way for long, the sight of them brings up too many unpleasant memories she didn’t have time to reflect on right now. Instead, she focuses her attention to Ruby’s team. The black cat faunus Blake Belladonna, Ruby’s older sister Yang Xiao Long, and lastly Weiss Schnee-

Penny: Oh right. She’s here too.

Penny feels an odd sense of tension in her chest as she registers Weiss’s presence. She didn’t really mind the girl before and had few interactions with her. But that was before she knew about the Schnee family’s circumstances, about Jacques’s cruelty and how her departure had amplified the already high-stress situation. Looking at her only reminds Penny of how despite Weiss’s ambition to be a huntress, someone who protected the weak from monsters, she had left her own younger brother at the mercy of one seemingly without a care.

She doesn’t want to think ill of her but she also can’t help the tinge of disgust that burns through her at the sight of the white-haired girl. It takes quite a bit of effort on Penny’s part not to outright glare at her.

Ruby: ….Uh, Penny?

Ruby’s voice snaps Penny’s focus back onto her, the confusion in her tone turning the building vitriol into concern.

Penny: Yes?

She says sweetly, eyes still alight with joy but calmer than before.

Ruby: Is it…..is it really….

Bewildered and dazed Ruby looks into Penny’s eyes as if searching for…..something. Proof that this was really happening and not some illusion of her confused mind. Seeing the doubt in her gaze Penny reaches back out and cups Ruby’s cheek with her hand. The feel of the leather and the heat of her palm through the gap in her gloves against Ruby’s skin seems to ground her. The confirmation from the silver-eyed girl’s senses is undeniable proof of Penny’s presence.

Penny: Yes, it’s me. I may look different but it’s still me. Not a copy, or fake, I’m the same girl you met in Vale.

She chimes sweetly, her tone so much more mature than Ruby remembered but so genuine is hard not to believe her. Still, her mind just can’t comprehend it.

Ruby: But how? There’s no way anyone could have survived that.

Penny: No human would have but as you know, I’m not a normal girl.

She remarks, calling back to a conversation they had so long ago. This flares a spark of recognition in Ruby but still, shades of doubt remain.

Ruby: But how are you-This is-you’re still-How are you even in one piece?

She asks, realization finally getting through but also giving way to panicked curiosity. Penny had a feeling this would happen, with how Ciel went straight into denial after seeing her again it was only logical that Ruby would react the same if not worse. But Penny was better prepared this time, she stays calm and tries to explain her recovery.

Penny: Well that’s all thanks to-

Pietro: That would be my doing!

Pietro interrupts, having sauntered outside while no one was looking. Penny lights back up with excitement again, this was perfect timing!

Penny: Dad!

She dashes over to his side, bending down to give him a quick hug before standing at his side.

Ruby: Dad?

Ruby asks quizzically, utterly perplexed at how an android could have a father. And she’s not alone in this, the rest of her companions also seem surprised at this sudden development. Noting the confusion on their faces, the father-daughter duo decide it’s time to make a formal introduction.

Penny: Oh right! You’ve never met! Everyone, this is my dad, Atlas’s leading robotics engineer and head of humanoid prosthetics, Dr. Pietro Polendina!

She announces proudly while gesturing to her dad.

Pietro: Thank ya, Sweetpea.

He acknowledges, matching Penny’s cheerful energy.

Pietro: It’s nice to meet you all, always happy to meet my sweet baby’s friends.

He chimes. The group still seems very confused and unsettled by the miraculous recovery of what they believed to be a deceased friend. Thus Ruby persists and continues her questioning.

Ruby: Uh, nice to me you Mr..or eh..Dr. Polendina. I’m Ruby and I, uh….Sorry but how did you manage to bring Penny back after she was.…you know?

Pietro: Well young lady the short answer to that is…she wasn’t.

Ruby:….What?!

Ruby’s jaw drops, surprise and bewilderment spreading through the party of huntsmen as Pietro continues.

Pietro: Her body may have suffered a lot of damage but her brain and soul chamber were still intact. Even with much of her frame in pieces, her mind and soul were still connected. She couldn’t move or wake up but Penny was still very…very much alive.

He states, voice turning somber the more he explains. Penny grips his shoulder softly, she knew he hated talking about this but would do so to spare her from reliving those nightmarish moments herself. It was the least he could do to protect his daughter after failing to do so when she needed him the most, or so he told himself.

Ruby:…No way.

Ruby looks down, horror creeping into her confused gaze as the implications of what Pietro just said set in. Seeing her further deflating mood Penny tries to turn the situation around by changing the subject.

Penny: I understand that this is a lot to process. It’s late, and I don’t know about you but I have had a very tiring evening and would like to get some rest. Dad and I haven’t had dinner yet so how about we all go have a nice meal to—

The sound of car tires striking to a halt cuts her off as Ruby and her friends are bathed in the blinding beams of headlights, a large military vehicle parked at the end of the street blocking it completely. The group throws their arms up to cover their faces, Maria skittering away back to the sidewalk as her newly repaired eyes twitch from the sudden overstimulation. As they try to shield themselves from the light, a figure exits the vehicle.

???: Got eyes on the suspects, get ready to engage.

A masculine voice says, there is a chime of “Yes Sir,” from the vehicle before four more figures emerge from the military trunk. Still unseen in the light one moves forward, Ruby and her friends get into a defensive stance, gripping their weapons, and moving closer together they ready themselves for a confrontation. But they don’t even get the chance to move as the figure barks out an order to them.

???: Stay!

A different male voice demands, it’s much more raspy and loud, the voice seeming to echo through all that fall under the figures line of sight. All at once Ruby and her friends froze in place, unable to move from the position they were standing in.

???: Sit!

The voice commands again, and the group drops their weapons and falls to the ground. They’re bodies going limp as they slowly slump onto the road. Once they’re down the heavy headlights go off and another figure zips forward, another following close behind. In a flash, the group is sat upright and handcuffed then large glowing limbs swipe up their weapons. With the blinding light gone, the figures become visual and Penny recognizes them immediately.

From their customized military uniforms and distinct abilities it was easy to tell who these people were.

These were the Ace Ops, the top huntsmen in the kingdom.

In terms of strength, they were on par with Winter, who worked them semi-regularly. Though they rarely stay in the kingdom nowadays, after the fall of global communication and Vale many places allied with Atlas suffered from huge emotional spikes. With tenses high and communication lost missions that once took only days now take nearly two weeks. They were scheduled to come back a while ago but only just got back to the border less than a few days ago. Penny was too caught up in her own problems to give the news much thought.

Until now.

As the two operatives, Harriet Bree and Vine Zeki, catch the terms for hidden weapons or contraband the other members come forward to assist. The first figure, a male husky faunus Marrow Amin, relaxes from his authoritative stance and slouches, rubbing his shoulder as if he just dropped a huge weight off him. Once his posture shifts the detained teens regain control of their bodies, earning Harriet an elbow to the face from Yang while trying to remove her prosthetic arm.

Harriet: Ah! Damn it Marrow! You said you could hold it!

She shouts, holding her nose with one hand and trying to keep the firefly blonde still with the other.

Marrow: Sorry! It’s hard to hold so this people at once.

He apologizes, tail dropping in dismay at his mistake. He apologizes, tail dropping in dismay at his mistake. Realizing they could move again, the group began to struggle against their restraints. Nora is the first to back to her feet but doesn’t get far as the Ace Ops' own hammer wielder Elm Ederne picks her up by her cuffs.

Ren: Nora!

Ren cries out as Elma pucks the girl off the ground and tosses her over her right shoulder.

Elm: Ah, ah, no running for you you little crook. Don’t want Harry on your tail again.

The massive woman chides, wagging a disapproving finger at the pink-clad redhead before noticing Nora’s partner in crime at her feet. He had managed to get up on his knees and was looking at her fiercely. Sensing his protectiveness over the girl Elm doesn’t even give Ren a chance to fight or talk, scooping him up before he can try to stop her.

Elm: Aw, aren’t you just a cutie!

She coos sweetly before tossing Ren over her other shoulder.

Elm: Look, guys! I got a crime couple over here!

She chimes before setting off back to the truck like an energetic puppy carrying a couple of huge sticks in its jaw.

The sight of her friend and her companions being detained snaps Penny out of her stunned state and she rushes over to intervene. Heading straight for their leader Clover Ebi as he’s about to have Ruby hauled away.

Penny: Excuse me!

She shouts, dashing in between Clover and Ruby. Clover almost flinches at Penny’s sudden appearance, surprised by her speedy movements. But he doesn’t let that phase him and stands on business.

Clover: Please step aside, this is an active arrest, any interference is punishable by law.

He stated frankly, voice even but firm.

Penny: I’m aware of that. May I ask why they are being arrested? And by such high-ranking officers? Surely top huntsmen wouldn’t be sent out for an ordinary infraction.

She asks pointedly, again surprising Clover with her awareness of the group’s rank. He looks her over and can tell she’s no ordinary person. She looks oddly familiar and has this air of strength around her unlike anything he’s ever felt before. But Clover knows better than to show his hand without sneaking a peak at his opponent’s cards, so he carries on with the by-the-books officer act.

Clover: That’s classified military information. Can’t tell you without proper clearance.

He says, less as a point of fact but rather a challenge. To this Penny pulls out her military ID, a one-of-a-kind version created for her as both a high-ranking officer and military asset. She hands it to him and after looking it over Clover finally recognizes her.

Clover: You’re….the super soldier. The artificial human, Penny Polendina, aren’t you?

Penny: Correct.

Clover:…..Wow.

He replies before handing back the ID, slightly awestruck to meet the marvel of technology herself. Though Penny doesn’t share that enthusiasm at the moment, her friends’ tense situation dulling her usually optimistic energy as the conversation proceeds.

Clover: It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard good things.

Penny: I would like to say the same and would if you weren’t arresting my friends.

Clover: Wait, you know these people?

He gestures to the group as they’re being rounded up.

Penny: Several of them I know personally and one is my best friend. Why are you arresting them?

Clover: Well to put it lightly……Illegal entry to the city, aircraft piracy, trespassing on military property, theft of military property, and suspicion of terrorism.

Penny’s jaw drops, mouth agape as Clover reads the list of charges to her.

Penny:……what?

She asks incredulously, absolutely stunned by what she’s just heard. Understanding her surprised reaction, Clover sighs then reaches out a hand and clasps her shoulder as he clarifies the situation her friends have gotten themselves in.

Clover: They stole an airship from a military hanger and flew it here without permission. Ironwood called us in because they’re also suspects in the border mecha incident. We managed to track them down after we found the ship through the security drones, so there’s no doubt.

He pulls out his scroll and shows her the footage from the drone. It’s not the best quality but she could still make out Ruby’s face and her companion's figures, them leaving the airship in a non-designated location in an apparent hurry.

Penny: Oh my goodness.

She mutters, unable to come to grips with what her friends have been accused of.

No not just accused. There was hard evidence that they had hijacked a military airship and broken into the city during a time of great panic!

But why?

What reason could they have had to do this? Sure, it’s not as easy to get into the kingdom as it used to be but committing multiple grade-A felonies should have never been an option!

And it’s not as if it could have been their first or last choice for entry.

Qrow is a high-ranking huntsman from an allied kingdom, he has enough authority to at least request assistance or even make an appointment with Ironwood to be cleared. Yang has a custom Atlas-made prosthetic that was issued recently enough to be in the system, she could have gotten a medical pass if she let them scan the serial number. And Weiss was a registered citizen of the kingdom from its most elite family, she could have easily requested entry to return home or even to her sister’s custody! All they had to do was wait to be vetted under any of those reasons and they’d be able to legally enter the city in a few days at the most!

Penny: How did this happen? Why did this happen?! Why in the world did they do this?!

She questions inwardly, absolutely bewildered at how the evening had turned from her slicing through a stampede of grimm to witnessing her best friend get arrested for crimes that carry up to a ten-year sentence.

Still, she couldn't just leave them like this, not without knowing what was really going on.

Penny: I…..May I come with them? It’s late, they have no council and need someone to plead their case.

She asks, uncertain but unable to leave the situation as it is. Clover cocks his head at the request, but sensing her determination and sympathizing with her circumstances he relents, wanting to see where this absurd situation goes.

Clover: Okay, but you’re riding up front with us.

He orders, gesturing towards the transport truck.

Penny: Thank you so much.

She replies politely before quickly running back to her dad to inform him of her departure.

Penny: I’m going up with them, have dinner without me. I’ll be home later, bye!

She proclaims quickly before turning tail toward the transport trunk. Having no time to reply Pietro just waves to her as she goes.

Good god, how is this the second time this year that he’s had to watch his daughter run off into the night to help someone she cared for? And this time was a whole lot worse than the last, Whitley was just sneaking out like an average teenager but this bunch was getting manhandled by the law for, from what he could catch from a distance, a whole list of charges.

Pietro: Just what is this world coming to?

He bemoans, shaking his head as he watches them depart for the upper city.

Maria: So, wanna grab something to eat?

She asks nonchalantly. As if the pint-sized former huntress hadn’t just avoided arrest and let her young travel companions get detained while she said nothing. Pietro just hand his head and facepalms, he could feel a migraine coming on.

As the group roll out and make way to Atlas, Penny reaches out to Ironwood to tell him the identity of the so-called “terrorists” he just had arrested. Turning the call on speaker Penny explains the situation from her point of view.

Ironwood: Are you sure it was them?

He asks, a hint of surprise lacing his usually uniform tone.

Penny: Yes. The Ace Ops have footage of them leaving the ship and going through the city on foot. I don’t know why they did this but they did.

She laments. There’s silence on the other end for a moment followed by a deep sigh.

Ironwood:……I see.

He states dryly, another long pause following as all six of the huntsmen listen on. They could practically hear their commander pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Ironwood: Penny, report to my office immediately upon landing.

He orders. Penny nods in agreement.

Penny: Yes sir.

Ironwood: Good. And Clover.

Clover: Yes sir?

Ironwood: Have them examined for injuries and their weapons checked before sending them my way.

He commands. Clover blinks, medical exams weren’t part of the usual procedure but then again wasn’t shaping up to be a normal arrest either. He flicks his clover pin before nodding along.

Clover: We’ll swing by the medical wing as soon as we land.

Ironwood: Oh and tell the dorm head to prepare three rooms, two team rooms, and one private.

Now that makes everyone raise an eyebrow. Suspects, especially ones facing such heavy charges, were held in holding cells not with the populous of the kingdom’s Huntsman Academy!

Curious now, Clover inquires further. Wondering what about this group could have spurned the logical and straightforward General Ironwood away from his usual way of handling things.

Clover: And may I ask why a group of highjackers need military lodging?

He half-jokes, not knowing that the general's reply would beat any punchline he could think of.

Ironwood: Because those “highjackers” are guests of the military who just made the worst entrance possible.

It’s been years since I’ve done this but since we’re going back to where it all started I feel like I have to.

Pokémon please,

PLEASE! Listen up and listen good!

Do not disappoint me again and give us the character customization we deserve! There literally no reason not to this time! No school setting, no old world setting, no time travel, we are in modern day Kalos on vacation.

We are taking a holiday in the fashion capital of the Pokémon world so the fashion needs to slay just as hard or even harder than it did before!

We got customizable eyes with lush lashes in all sorts shapes and sizes in Scarlet and Violet.

Do it again!

We are back in the region where Poke PR videos exist, where female trainers can have a full face of makeup.

Double up the colors and stuff eyeshadow and blush into the makeup kit where they always belonged!

LET US GO WILD! LET US BE FASHIONABLE AS PLACE WE’RE SPENDING THIS ADVENTURE IN!

I saw more than one boutique in that artwork and game footage but I need a reason to sink hours of my playtime into them! My Serena was my first time really expressing my taste in fashion freely. She was a champion and the style queen. I owed every single piece of clothing in every category, not a single charm was missing. Pokemon had the power to do that once and they can damn sure do it again!

Time to be the best and better than it ever was! Give us the beautiful vacation in the city of lights we trainers deserve.

(Seriously though, the eyeshadow and blush are a must, the trainers in-game are a little too old for the “it’s inappropriate for kids” argument)

A few miles away from the city of Mantle, near the icy roads of the tundra, an unseen airship lands in silence as the cities in the distance become abuzz with panic, unaware of the true danger lurking just beyond the perimeter. The vessel appears to be a standard military airship but as the doors open that appearance fades in a cloud of pink light, revealing a Mistral air vessel under the illusion. From inside the ship emerges four figures.

Dressed in all black, Cinder Fall emerges onto the snow. Her left side is heavily obscured by a thick eye patch and long cape masking the myriad of scars that now pollute her once exquisite face and frame. Under the cloak, an inhuman limb skitters delicately but impatiently, long bony fingers tapping against the soft flesh of her thigh. The once boastful woman of lethality now appeared just as drab and deathly as the season whom’s power she’s perverted.

The same could not be said of her cohort, the mass murderer known and wanted throughout all four kingdoms, Tyrian Callows. A lanky figure in black and white shrouded in a brown overcoat not suited for such harsh wind.

Not that he paid it any mind.

No, unlike the animal whose traits made him deadly, the scorpion faunus seemed unbothered by the low temperature and heavy winds of the tundra. Strutting out of the airship, hands behind his head, a ting of excitement shining in the eternally shifting hues of his irises and the sway of his new shiny robotic tail. Said prosthetic was a gift or rather enhancement made to replace the organic one he’d lost in combat.

Illegally sourced, designed, and built by the disgraced Atlas robotics researcher Arthur Watts. The man himself following not too far behind his fellow wanted criminal co-conspirators. Of the lot, he’s the most appropriately dressed which is fitting as he’s the most familiar with the area. This was where his career started, where he dreamed up his finest creations that were oh-so-cruelly shot down by General Ironwood himself.

Creations sleeved in favor of that bright-eyed dreamer Pietro’s pet project, bringing a tool of war to life.

Just the thought of that precious doll that joke of a robotics engineer called his daughter made Watts want to vomit. He spits at the ground, ridding his mouth of the taste of mediocrity the memory brought on. Cinder is quick to notice his discomfort and quips on his sour mood.

Cinder: What’s wrong? The sight of home not sitting well with you?

She jabs, knowing full well of Watts’s exile from his kingdom of origin. But Watts doesn’t give in to her childish taunts.

Watts: No, just a tickle in my throat. I've been away for too long, not used to the frigid air anymore.

He replies. Cinder shrugs with her right shoulder and rolls her eye.

Cinder: Well you better get re-situated soon, we have work to do, and I’m not wasting energy slaying whatever shady doctor you source to maintain your frail self.

She retorts. Again Watts is unbothered but this time he fires back.

Watts: Apologies but some of us have to make do with the cards our fragile mortal shells deal us. We’re not all so blessed as to have our weaknesses replaced through….. special means.

He remarks, earning a scowl from the corrupt Maiden. Watts knew damn well she hated her grimm arm but he wasn’t in range during her injury, at least not enough to get her back on her feet as quickly as Salem would have liked. So the queen of the grimm had taken matters into her own hands and now Cinder was stuck with this abomination strapped to her shoulder.

Meanwhile, the manic murder maniac Salem lent out on her privy got a nice shiny new tail. A perfect fit, much more durable than his natural one without any loss in mobility. It was even personalized with custom detailing such as pretty little lights that matched his eyes. His only loss was a lack of his natural venom while their much-needed maiden could no longer hide amongst the populace without covering up to the nth degree.

Cinder couldn’t bear the sight of the damn thing swaying so freely without feeling bitter from the unfairness of it all.

They trade silent glares as the final member of this questionable quartet exits the airship, the former miniature mafioso Neopolitan. Her long split pink and brown hair flutters in the wind, the light of her pink aura flickering dimmer by the second.

The ride over had been longer than expected, trailing behind those foolish children while keeping a safe distance had been difficult. Retaining the illusion in such a cruel climate for hours had been draining, more so since their window of opportunity was so sudden. They had left with little supplies and she had no time to rest. Though normally Neo could go much longer, this time she had bit off more than she could chew. She’d been running on fumes looking for Cinder, lost in the heat of vengeance as the fall maiden’s chaos was what got her beloved Roman killed. Though she hadn’t looked it Neo was practically destroying herself during her hunt. She had barely slept a wink or eaten well in so long that she couldn’t recall what it felt like to be at peace. Her temperament and appearance were the only things she maintained, and that was only for the sake of her end goal.

Alas, it was all in vain.

Her true target now lay in the silver-eyed girl and despite her grievances with Cinder and her lot Neo had no choice but to form an alliance. But who could have imagined her first task in this centrifuge would be doing the lion's share of stealth?

Neo tries not to let it show, strutting out onto the snow with the same cavalier confidence she usually does. Though her efforts are pointless, her aura can’t upload her lies. The flickering pink light, and the goosebumps forming on her skin as the cold leaked in and brushed against her bare shoulders, were telltale signs of her weakness.

Cinder looks over at her and then back at Watts and Tyrian before approaching.

Cinder: Wow, looks like the ride over was really rough on you. Need a minute to catch your breath?

She chimes mockingly, clearly picking at the current weakest link in the group for her own fun. The multi-colored mute had no interest in playing her game despite her usually playful persona. She’s too tired for this so waves Cinder off as she walks passed. The tattered maiden doesn’t take kindly to that and cuts her off, grabbing onto Neo with her claw. The rail-thin fingers twirl around her wrist in a vise grip.

Cinder: You know, I should really thank you for getting us here. We wouldn’t have made it this far without you.

She bellows. Neo knows what’s coming, she’d expected as much from the temperamental witch. So when Cinder forms an ashen dagger from her magic and thrusts forward to stab her Neo leaps up and kicks her, aiming for Cinder’s good eye. The force pushes Cinder’s head back and the jolt of pain makes her grimm arm release on reflex, giving Neo an opening to jump over her shoulders and backflip away. With some distance between them, Neo prepares herself for an attack, and Cinder wastes no time lunging at her.

As they come to blows Neo deflects every strike and slash that comes her way. Cinder was stronger much stronger, but Neo was fast, small, and agile. Though her dwindling aura made her more vulnerable to damage, Neo knew she could survive if she could outlast this little tantrum. Even with Cinder so close and barraging her with attacks Neo could make it if she exhausted the foul fall maiden enough to calm her down. But that expectation is thwarted when Cinder pulls back unexpectedly, forcing Neo to double back to regain her footing.

But her feet never touch the ground.

Instead, a sharp pain tears through her back. It burrows into her flesh, piercing her through a crack in her aura before lifting her up several feet in the air. Tyrian’s tail had stabbed her in the back while she was focused on Cinder. The cold metal tip digging into her skin and muscle was agonizing, the impact knocking the wind out of her causing an involuntary gag from the mute. If she could scream, Neo would be shouting bloody murder as Cinder smugly saunters towards her. She lets her hang there for a moment, almost admiring her handy work, before speaking up again.

Cinder: Again thanks for getting us out here but this is as far as you go.

She muses, voice dripping with a twisted sense of satisfaction.

If Neo could speak she’d be using what little strength she had left to call this cunt a thousand horrid things until she ran out of breath. in lieu of that, the petite prisoner gives her the bird instead, eyes burning with hate and lips biting back blood as she raises her finger high. Not showing even an ounce of weakness despite being so close to death's door. Tyrian giggles manically at the gesture whileWatts glances over and nods, respecting her pointless but poignant moxie. Contrastly Cinder snarls, annoyed by Neo’s unyielding will, she snaps at Tyrian to drop her and the crazed criminal does so giddily. Flinging her off his metal tail and onto the icy earth with a loud thump, blood draining from her now unplugged back wound.

The snow against her skin felt like chilled glass shards. Neo couldn’t feel her legs as her senses began to fade as the three left her to bleed out on the cold hard ground. The rush of blood in her ears and pounding heart drowning out their footsteps. They don’t look back as Neo struggles to keep what little of her aura she has left aglow to protect her body.

Was this truly how she was going to end?

After everything she’d done, all the work she’d put in, the pain she’d suffered just to get this chance.

And this, this was how she was going to end her time in the mortal realm?

Bleeding out after draining herself in a plan she wanted no part of beyond securing her revenge. A revenge she would have had to share with a woman she despised. But she’d agreed to it, all for the sake of ending the one who had taken everything from her. That damned girl who had taken the only person she had ever loved.

Since the day she found his hat in the wreckage of Vale something in Neopolitan had truly broken. She had never been a normal person, taking a thrill in toying with and killing her targets. She never truly cared about anything outside of her own fun.

Until she met Roman Torchwick.

He was her heart and soul, her everything. The only person whom she could never imagine harming in any way. Just as vile as he was charming and the only one to see the world through the same twisted lens as Neo did. If soulmates were ever something more than a fairytale then he was hers and only hers.

Her better half now lost to her, leaving her behind in a world that never felt like her own.

At first, she tried to deny the truth. Neo didn’t want-No, she couldn’t live in a world without Roman! But denial can only last so long. Eventually, denial turned to numbness and after realizing he had died in the chaos of Beacon’s fall, numbness became rage. First at Cinder, the one who dragged them into the conflict to begin with, and then at Ruby who apparently was the one there with him at his death and most likely the cause.

Could Neo say that for certain? No.

Did she truly believe Cinder’s version of events?

….. No, she did not. Not at all.

Deep down, Neo knew she couldn’t trust Cinder’s word over a lunatic’s.

But she also knew she couldn’t kill Cinder, that possibility was lost when the madwoman became the fall maiden. But still, Neo needed her pound of flesh, she had to punish someone for her love’s death no matter how absurd her reasoning became!

If not then how could she face her beloved Roman in the end?

How could she join him in the hereafter without properly avenging his death and loss of the life they could have had together?

Neo knew from the moment it was confirmed he was gone from this world that she was living on borrowed time. She wasn’t looking to live a long time, just long enough to enact her last feat of brutality before diving into the depths of hell. Back into his arms as they greeted the eternal blaze together and forevermore.

Gripping the rim of his bowler hat with trembling hands as tears stream down her face Neo feels utterly defeated.

Neo: What a damned fool I’ve become. Taking the easy target for an easy pay is never truly satisfying. That’s how we thought, that’s what he’d say. Yet I do such a thing in his name. What a rotten girl you are Neo. How could you believe something so ludicrous? Trust that bleeding cunt’s words over your heart’s truth?!…. And now you pay the price. You’ll die a fool slain by bigger fools. A fate Roman would never accept! So how….how can I face him now?

She muses internally, her heart aching with disappointment and grief. This was not how she wanted things to end.

And it wouldn’t be.

Using all the strength she can muster Neo pulls her hands behind her back. She feels out the area of her wound and begins feeding the fabric around it inside, plugging it before she loses too much blood. It burns, Gods does it burn like hell! But this was her only option, she couldn’t die here, not like this. The cold temperature does help the situation as it pushes Neo’s body from shock to heat-saving mode and the blood spilled is already starting to freeze. With her wound closed off Neo starts to crawl towards the road. She still couldn’t move her legs and could barely see but staying still would mean certain death.

So she crawls.

She crawls across the freezing tundra, the fingers of her gloves slowly wearing away every time she digs into the dirt to pull herself forward. Her nails chip away and her fingers start to bleed, the howl of the wind is all she can hear. Still, Neo persists and crawls until she feels something hard under the snow. She looks up and realizes she’s finally hit a road. The roads in the tundra were often buried underneath the ice and snow but the outlines of the raised ground provided much-needed pathways to ground vehicles.

Suddenly Neo feels a wave of low vibration against her exhausted fingers. She looks up and sees a truck coming her way. Not a military vehicle but a civilian bus, possibly from one of the factories nearby. Knowing this was her only shot, Neo summons the last of her strength to form a disguise. Soon her two-tone hair is pitch black, her eyes an emerald green, and her clothes become a long gothic dress only shielded by a tattered long coat.

Such a pitiful sight against the white snow, so visible and vulnerable that it doesn’t take long for her to be spotted. The bus comes to a stop only a few feet in front of her, and a group of men in workmen’s gear come rushing out to her aid. There are cries of “Dear god, it’s a kid!” and “She’s bleeding! She’s bleeding bad!” as they lift her up from the ground. One takes off his coat and covers her with it while another takes her in his arms. Once they get her settled in on the bus the driver pulls off in a hurry, going as fast as he possibly can on the icy road to get what he believes is an injured child to safety. The other men focus on keeping her conscious and breathing, unsure if she’ll wake if they let her close her eyes for too long. As they journey closer to the city Neo is in between states of consciousness, her hand grips the rim of Roman’s hat as she wonders what he’d think about this whole mess.

Roman: My my, how sneaky of you dear. Tricking a bunch of men into caring for you like a little wounded bird? Almost makes me jealous or is that what you were going for? Are you that starved for my attention, sweets?

Yes, he’d joke with her like that. They would have had a good laugh about this later on…But not anymore.

Chapter 16: Manufactured Heart

Just as Penny had thought the consequences had found her far sooner than she had hoped, upon awaking from their nap Whitley saw Penny out of the tunnels and kept a close eye until she snuck off the manor grounds. Their innocent tryst had been successful up until Penny returned home to her dad waiting for her at the dining table with her blackened boots. His face was not twisted in anger or disappointment but rather was contemplative. He wanted answers and trusted that his daughter would provide them if asked, she was made to be an honest girl after all.

Pietro: Evening, Sweetpea. Wanna tell me where you’ve been all day?

He asks, voice still gentle as ever but with a hint of heaviness that made Penny’s chest tighten. She had never been one to keep things from her dad especially when it was causing her pain but this was not a typical situation. Knowing his good nature, her telling him would lead to Pietro telling Ironwood and that would spiral into a whole different issue that she wouldn’t be able to stop once it started. And as much as she trusted her dad and as much as she believed in her uncle neither would be helpful in this situation. Her dad was a scientist, not a social worker, and General Ironwood had already tried to protect the Schnee children on his own twice before but could only help from afar.

She couldn’t take the help they would offer so Penny had to do something she never imagined, hiding someone in need from her dad.

She takes a deep breath and sets her bag down before walking over to the dining table and sitting down across from him. She collects her thoughts and words carefully before speaking.

Penny: I went out to visit an injured person.

Pietro: And why didn’t I hear you leave?

Penny: I left early in the morning and went out quietly so I wouldn’t wake you.

Pietro: Okay but why didn’t you call me?

Penny: I was preoccupied with taking care of the injured person, their wounds were deep and likely to get infected if not tended to adequately.

Pietro: Alright and what about these?

He points to her dirty rocket boots. Penny takes a second to recall the previous night’s events, rewording them in vague and less visceral terms.

Penny: I received some very upsetting news last night and reacted badly to it.

Pietro: Watcha mean by “reacted badly”?

He inquiries, expression softening as Penny explains further.

Penny: I was sad at first then frustrated then…angry, very angry. My head hurt and I just… couldn’t get the anger to go away. So I left the city to hunt grimm to release the stress.

This admission gives Pietro pause as an expression of worry overtakes his features. This was completely out of left field for Penny to ever be this upset. Sure it was possible but never in all his years did Pietro expect his sweet girl to flip out like that.

Pietro: You did what? H-how-W-when-

He stutters, unable to form a proper sentence. The idea of this happening and her reacting so strongly all while he was asleep was just too much. How could he have missed that? Slept through his daughter having a crisis bad enough to make her lose it, only to realize something was wrong when he spotted her ashen boots. Pietro buries his face in his hands, truly lost for words as he thought himself a better father than this.

Penny can see his frustration and feels a pang of guilt in her stomach. She didn’t intend for this to happen, she had barely been thinking for the last 15 or so hours, she’d been caught in this cycle of grief, shifting between numbness and sorrow after her outburst of anger. But still, she couldn't let this pain spread any further, especially to not her own dad who’d done nothing wrong. She gets up from her seat and rushes over to hug him, wrapping her arms around him and embracing him tightly.

Penny: I’m sorry.

She says, voice soft and almost pleading.

Penny: I wasn’t thinking properly at the time, everything made sense at the time but once I calmed down it all seemed pointless.

She confesses, Pietro’s expression softens as he looks up at his child. Raising his head back up he returns her hug. He holds her close and rubs her back in a clockwise motion, attempting to relax her.

Pietro: Aw Sweetheart, you should have woke me up.

Penny: I wasn’t thinking and I didn’t want to bother you.

Pietro: You wouldn’t have been. Not even a tiny bit.

He tightens the hug, reinforcing the sense of security being held by one’s father brings. As much as Penny had become independent Pietro couldn’t help the protectiveness he had for her. Though he had designed her to be stronger than any one person could be fate had shown him otherwise. The fall of Beacon had revealed just how fragile and terrifyingly resilient Penny was. Her not going mad after being trapped in her own mind for so long was nothing short of a miracle and even that had left its scars.

Sometimes he can still hear her sobbing after waking up in her new body. That look of pure desperation was permanently etched into his memory, he never wanted to see her like that again if he could help it!

And in this moment, faced with another new situation Pietro had to ask himself one thing.

Was this really worth making an issue of?

She was home now, safe, calm, and willing to confess her misdeeds. Misdeeds that were relatively minor as they didn’t seem to cause any real issue aside from a dirty pair of rocket boots and an awkward conversation.

So with a cautious heart, Pietro takes the gentle route.

Pietro: Just…don’t do it again.

He orders in a calm caring tone.

Penny: I won’t. I’m sorry, Dad.

Pietro: It’s okay, Sweetie.

He pats her back one last time before pulling away.

Pietro: Now go clean off your boots and wipe off the table, I’ll make us some lunch!

He says cheerily, Penny nods and moves to start cleaning. They leave the situation at that, Pietro makes them some soup and Penny starts cleaning up. Despite avoiding revealing too much or getting into any trouble, Penny still feels a huge pit of guilt in her stomach. It hurts to not be open with her dad but that wasn’t pragmatic at the moment.

Still, the lingering guilt haunts Penny’s mind and doesn’t dissipate. Not after the cleaning is done, not after lunch, not even by the end of the day. It stays firm, a lump in her being that just refused to leave, and truthfully Penny thought she deserved it. She had been so reckless and dishonest in such little time, having this pang of guilt at least meant she hadn’t abandoned all her morals.

So she lets it sit for days, a self-imposed punishment, Penny continues carrying her guilt like a ball and chain. It hurts, sometimes she wakes up feeling numb other times it hurts so much she cries. It always amplifies when she talks to Whitley, hearing his sincere sweet voice and looking into his loving eyes is so bittersweet. She was protecting him in a way but it’s not from anyone but herself.

She didn’t know how to tell him what she was and if he’d stay after. Her lying would already be a point against her but not being human was just too far a bridge to gap. To love a fake person, an imitation of a human being was something no one had ever done before. This wasn’t a story or book where those things didn’t matter or love could conquer all! No, this has real consequences that Whitley would have to face the brunt of. He’d be questioned about his taste, faced with a partner with specific health needs outside of his understanding, and would most likely be giving up his option for biological children without a surrogate. But even if no one judged him, her maintenance didn’t frighten him and there was technology capable of letting them have a child the fact Penny was an artificial human would not change!

And really how could she ask any of that of him? With everything he’s going through Penny couldn’t make herself another burden. But her presence was also one of his only lifelines in all this, so she had to stay. Too hopelessly in love to risk losing his affection but too guilty to fully enjoy it. It’s a painful cycle of joyful moments undercut by deceit and an aftermath of self-loathing and reflection.

Penny tries not to let it show, to function as normal as if the weight of her secrets wasn’t dragging her heart down like an anchor. She managed well for about a week or so but such tension requires stagnation to keep it in check. Sticking to her routine made it easier to pretend nothing was wrong, it kept her mind preoccupied and focused on the external rather than the internal.

But it does not take too long for her to slip up.

It wasn’t anything specifically odd, Penny was on her lunch break, and the knot of guilt had been especially tight that day. As she was about to get in line at the cafeteria she thought about what Whitley might be having around this time too.

Penny: Knowing him, not enough or nothing at all if his father gave him too many tasks again.

She muses, and that immediately kills her appetite. Instead, she goes to her training room to assist the students. But when she arrives Penny is greeted by an unexpected visitor.

Penny: Ciel?!

She chirps surprised by the sight of her former handler fiddling with the inner workings of the training room’s control panel.

Ciel: Hi there.

She greets, closing up the panel and putting away her tools to give Penny her full attention.

Penny: What are you doing here?

Ciel: Maintenance, since I just got off assignment at the border and we’re still having issues with the big project I’m just doing what I can to help out.

Penny: Oh, that’s nice of you.

Ciel: Just doing my part. Anyway, what are you doing here?

Penny: This is my assigned training room.

She states plainly. Ciel blinks at her, and suppresses the urge to roll her eyes before clarifying.

Ciel: I mean right now, during your lunch break.

Penny: How did you know it was my lunch break?

Ciel: Because everyone knows.

Penny: Huh?

Ciel: You’ve become quite the legend in the academy if not the whole Atlas military.

Penny: I have?

Ciel: Of course you have.

She holds up her hand, using her fingers to count down Penny’s numerous achievements and heroic titles.

Ciel: The Hero of Mantle, employee of the month, and the first to come when backup is needed anywhere. I heard a good part of the security force calls you little Miss Rescuer.

Penny: They do?!

She exclaims, surprised by the addition of yet another title to her growing list of identifiers. This elicits a soft chuckle from Ciel and she continues.

Ciel: You’ve done a lot for the people around here, and with how friendly and sweet you tend to be, it’s no surprise some sneak by here or the cafeteria just to see you in person.

Penny: Wait, they do that?!

Ciel: Yeah, you’ve more or less become the mascot for the entirety of the kingdom’s armed forces. At least internally. Though I did hear someone say they wouldn’t mind that becoming official for merchandising purposes.

Penny: Who said that?!

Ciel: Neon Katt.

Penny: ….Of course she would.

Penny sighed, normally being given this kind of praise would lift her spirits but right now it was just aspirating. She didn’t feel worth so much trust when she was still choosing to lie to the person who trusted her the most. Still, she tries to keep a neutral face to hide her discomfort from her colleague.

But Ciel is quick to notice Penny’s mood, tilting her head and raising an eyebrow, looking at her skeptically.

Ciel: Something wrong with that?

Penny: Huh?

Ciel: Is there something wrong with people wanting you to be the military’s mascot?

Penny: Not fundamentally, no.

Ciel: But do you have a problem with it?

This gives Penny pause as the answer isn’t a simple yes or no. While she is proud of her service she didn't feel like she lived up to the title of protector at the moment. But Penny couldn’t say that, and if she outright refused it could trigger her hiccups. She takes a second to organize her words before responding.

Penny: I understand why Neon would think that might be a good idea but I don’t believe it’s necessary.

Ciel: So you just don’t like the idea or that Neon thought of it?

Penny: I don’t think it’s necessary.

Ciel: Uh huh.

Ciel shakes her head and walks to the door, standing directly in front of Penny. With Ciel blocking her way in, Penny can’t get into the training room control area. She tries to walk around her but Ciel just keeps blocking her way, clearly not done with the conversation yet.

Ciel: Since you’re still on break why don’t we go for a walk?

Penny: A..walk?

Ciel: Yeah, like we used to in Vale. I miss watching you wander around and just observing things.

That admission softens Penny up almost instantly, she remembers how much fun it was to roam around free for the first time. It was the time when her life really began, when she made her first friends and was dealt her first true traumas. The nostalgia smoothes the knot in Penny’s stomach, a momentary distraction from her current situation, and sways her away from her over-pragmatic intentions.

Penny: Well, I guess we could take a walk through the courtyard.

She suggests. Ciel smiles in agreement, and the two leave for the courtyard. The outdoor area wasn’t what people would call fetching, simple walking paths with small statues of military symbols and memorials alongside a bit of greenery. Still being out in the fresh air with no work to do or grimm to slay was nice. Ciel had been away from the capital for so long that she had forgotten the path so she trailed behind the more comfortable Penny. She guides her through a lap around the area before sitting down on a bench. Ciel follows suit and they sit together, it’s a surprisingly clear day, and with an elevation of Atlas the blue sky above seems closer.

Penny takes a deep breath in as leans back against the bench and exhales with a soft sigh.

Penny: This is nice.

She sighs, the change in scenery calming her frayed nerves.

Ciel: Yeah, but it would be better if you told me what’s wrong.

Penny: Huh? What are-

Ciel: I’m not a fool Penny, I may have just got back but I know you well enough to see something’s off.

Penny tries to keep her expression from hardening at Ciel’s prying and deflects.

Penny: Yes, you haven’t been around me in a long time. So how can you be sure there is something off with me if you’re unfamiliar with my new behaviors?

She counters, pointing out Ciel’s lack of expertise and giving herself plausible deniability. However, Ciel doesn't show any signs of doubt or even uncertainty. Instead, she presses on.

Ciel: I may not know you like I used to but I do know that sneaking out of the city in the middle of the night to slaughter grimm isn’t like you at all.

Penny’s eyes go wide and her body stiffens, shocked by Ciel’s revelation.

Penny: H-how did you know that?

Ciel: Like I said, I’ve been helping out wherever I can. I was helping out in the surveillance center and heard someone talking about you going off. They were tossing out theories on what set you off but none seemed right to me.

She states, looking down at her watch Ciel starts setting up a timer.

Ciel: So why don’t you tell me what really happened?

She asks, holding up her arm to show Penny the 30-minute timer she set.

Ciel: Thirty minutes, that’s all I’m asking. You can explain everything or just say nothing but when time’s up so is the conversation. Whatever is or isn’t said stays here.

She says sincerely, placing a reassuring hand on Penny’s shoulder. Feeling the knot tightening again Penny can feel her resolve waning under its weight. She’s been holding in so much and hasn’t been fully honest with anyone throughout all of it. She couldn’t be honest with Whitley, her dad, or Ironwood. She couldn't ever open up to her casual friends like Neon, Flynt, Ivori, and Kobalt!

Penny: If only Ruby were here. She’d understand, she’d know what to do and how to fix this!

Penny bemoaned inwardly, Ruby was the first person to make her feel like a real girl. She would understand if she told her, she would know what to do! But she wasn’t here to help Penny face this. Ciel, however, was and she was willing to talk this over even without knowing half the picture. And so with a heart so heavy with guilt, grief, and self-hatred it could weigh down the fractured moon, Penny opens up.

Penny: ……Okay.

She takes a deep breath to collect herself and begins to tell her tale.

Penny: … My…my boyfriend is in a really bad situation and there’s nothing I can do about it.

She admits, her chest almost instantly feeling lighter after confessing. Ciel gives her a look of obvious shock, mouth agape, eyes bulging out of her head as her mind tries to comprehend what she just heard.

Ciel: Excuse me…You have a what?!

Penny: A boyfriend.

Ciel: L-like a boy who’s a friend or uh-

Penny: No, a boyfriend! A significant other, sweetheart, lover, whatever term you use for someone you are dating and in love with!

Ciel: In love?!

Ciel clutches her chest, mind dizzied from the whiplash of this new information.

Penny: Yes, in love! That’s the point of dating someone! Because you’re in love with them! What more clarification do you need?!

Ciel: Okay, okay, just…start from the beginning! How did this all happen?

Penny sighs and lowers her gaze.

Penny: That a…..really long story.

Ciel: And you still have twenty-nine minutes. Start talking.

She demands, already too invested to let the topic go. Penny relents and recounts everything that’s happened over the last few months. For the first time, she spares no details and practically info dumps the entirety of her current life circumstances to Ciel who listens on in almost complete silence aside from a few gasps of horror or intrigue at certain points in the story. Midway through Ciel sneakily resets the timer, too engrossed in the dialogue to let Penny get cut off. By the end, Ciel feels like she just binged two whole seasons of a romantic drama series that ended on such a heavy note that she’d started crying through the season finale.

Ciel: Holy crap.

She exclaims, pulling her handkerchief out of her pocket and drying her tears. When her face is dry she hands the cloth over to Penny who had also started crying while explaining how she thought her confession had failed and she had lost Whitley forever then again as she recounts seeing the scars on his back.

Penny: Thank you.

She says, tears still falling as she grabs the handkerchief. She wiped her eyes and calmed her breathing, it had taken a lot out of her to say all that but Penny felt so much lighter now that at least someone knew the full story. Said woman was now digesting the huge mountain of information she had just been given.

Ciel:….So…you’re dating Whitley Schnee?

Penny: Yes.

Ciel: Winter’s little brother?

Penny: Yes.

Ciel: And his father has been….beating him periodically as some twisted form of discipline?

Penny:….Yes.

Ciel: And this…

She pauses, taking a sharp breath in to suppress the deluge of swears she wanted to call the maggot of a human being named Jacques. She lets the vile words sit on her tongue and exhales the venomous intent before continuing.

Ciel: …Man has been abusive to everyone around him for years and no one has been able to stop him.

Penny: …Yes.

Ciel: Not even General Ironwood?

Penny pulls her legs up, pressing her knees to her chest. She crosses her arms over her knees and rests her forehead on them, her bangs framing her still misty eyes as she hides her face.

Penny: No….The best he could do was help Winter and Weiss become huntresses. And only because both had their semblance.

Ciel: And Whitley doesn’t?

Penny: No, and given the situation, he’s in there’s no way Jacques would let him go even if he did.

Ciel: Damn.

Ciel buried her head in her hand, this was a lot to process even for her. To think all of this happened while she was gone and to Penny of all people! The odd girl brand new to the world had seen quite a lot after her recovery, for better and worse. She was a little impressed but also terrified, to think Penny was fighting so many battles beyond her duty to her kingdom.

Penny: So……what do I do?

Penny asks, her voice far more timid than Ciel’s ever heard.

Penny: What should I do?

She asks again as if pleading for an answer to escape this tangled web of anguish and deception she’s been engulfed in. Ciel doesn’t respond immediately, silently pondering this crisis as a whole. There was no one answer to such a sensitive and complex issue like this and Ciel knew it but she couldn’t let Penny continue on like this with no hope. So she takes the neutral option.

Ciel: Well, what do you want to do?

She asks. Penny stays silent for a few seconds, contemplating what it is that she actually wants out of this situation. With her head still down, she replies.

Penny: I want…I want to save him.

She confesses, pulling her head back up just enough to stare at the ground. She keeps her folded arms over her knees, fingers wrapping around her biceps as she persists.

Penny: I want to protect him from his father. I want to get him out of that house and away from Jacques and all the work and pressure he puts on him and-and…I just want him to be happy!

The tears return to her eyes, flowing down her cheeks as her voice becomes shakier with every word.

Penny: But I also want him to be with me. I want to keep loving him and I want him to keep loving me! But-

She halts, her soft sobbing turning into choked weeping.

Penny: -B-but I keep lying to him! I keep hiding the truth from him because I don’t want to lose him!

She turns her teary gaze to Ciel.

Penny: He looks at me like I’m everything, Ciel… Like I’m the best thing to ever exist in this world!

She confesses, heaving between sentences as her breathing becomes more erratic.

Penny: He hugs me, kisses me, flirts with me, and talks to me like I’m some kind of princess. It’s better than anything I could have ever dreamed of. He makes me so, so happy! And I just… keep lying. I keep letting him love someone who isn’t even human enough to admit she’s not a real one!

She cries, gripping her arms tight as the shame comes crawling back in.

Penny: He thinks I’m such a great person, so much better than what he’s known but I’m no different! I may not hurt him outright but I still…God, when did I become such a hypocrite?!

She asks herself, disgusted and confused by her own actions. How did she let it get this far?

Penny: I’m supposed to be better than this but I’m not! I’m selfish and dishonest! I can be manipulative and cruel and-and-

Penny stammers. Her mind trailing back to all the things she’d done to keep her secrets. She’d manipulated her dad so he wouldn’t ask too many questions, she’d lied to Whitley by omission countless times, she’d lost her cool, and went crazy, even being awful to Winter when she came to get her!

Penny:-I’m just…I know I’m not doing the right thing but I don’t know what else I can do. Not without ruining everything.

She laments, tears and breath finally slowing down as she lets out the last of her pent-up grief. With Penny’s breakdown winding down Ciel finally gets some room to talk again. She sighs and leans her head back to look up at the sky. She watches the clouds for a moment before speaking.

Ciel: You know it’s kinda funny. You say that you’re not acting human but honestly-

She turns her head down and looks over at Penny.

Ciel: -you’ve never sounded more human to me than you do right now.

She quips, a soft sisterly smile illuminating her face. Penny blinks away her tears and stares at Ciel in confusion as the older woman continues.

Ciel: Humans can be selfish, self-serving, manipulative, and cruel, and are the biggest liars on this gods forsaken planet. And artificial as you made be, you were made in the image of humanity Penny.

Penny: Yeah, to protect and be a better version of humanity.

Ciel: And you are.

Penny: Huh?

Penny cocks her head, confused and a little annoyed by Ciel’s nonchalant response to such jarring secrets.

Why was she being so…understanding?

Penny had confessed to something horrible, something that went against everything she was supposed to be! And yet Ceil was just taking it in stride. Treating this terrible transgression with such flippancy, it made no sense!

Why wasn’t she angry, or at least disappointed? She’d gone against her core principles over and over again for her own selfish gain! How could Ciel not be disgusted with her?!

Penny’s thoughts are so negative and loud that Ciel can practically see the gears turning in her head. She moves closer, wrapping an arm gently around Penny’s shoulder as she goes on.

Ciel: Listen, most people would have run the moment they knew how serious things were with Whitley. Others would have used his vulnerability to take advantage of him for their own sick desires. But you Penny, you did everything in your power to help him and make him happy.

She gently grips Penny’s shoulder. Pushing her closer, resting her head on Ciel’s shoulder as she persists.

Ciel: Did you lie? Yes. Was it partly because you didn’t want to lose him? Yes. But the fact that you feel this guilty about it, even though your options were pretty slim, says a lot about you.

She leans her head over to rest hers against Penny’s as she gets to her point.

Ciel: You say you’re doing the wrong thing but honestly was there anything else you could have done?

Penny pauses, truthfully her options had always been slim when it came to helping Whitley. From the start, she was lying by omission about part of her identity and things only spiraled from there. Their relationship had always been a gamble, they both knew what they were and are still risking to be together but neither had chosen to stop. The risk, as severe as it is, was worth it for those few moments of happiness they shared.

They were both smart children, far advanced for their age, and yet secret meetings were the best they could come up with to stay in each other's lives. There were no adults either could turn to for help resolving Whitley’s home life and Penny hadn’t even asked permission to tell Whitley about her being an android for multiple reasons. This had never been an easy situation and there was little either could do to change it.

Realizing this, Penny lets out a deep defeated sigh.

Penny: I just want to be with him, but I also want to do the right thing.

She weeps, the last few stray tears falling from her eyes, a sense of failure washing over her already strained heart. Ciel strokes her head, taking a deep breath in and inhaling her scent. It’s a pine-citrus mix, a strong smell for such a powerful but breakable girl.

Ciel: Sometimes there is no right thing, and hating yourself over it isn’t going to change that.

Penny jolts, part of her wanting to argue her guilt but instead, she just stays silent. This was a true impasse with no way out in sight. Ciel stays with her until she can get herself back together enough to work again. She promises to call more often as they part ways. Penny spends the rest of her workday in a clear but dazed state. She knows she’s doing the best she can but that doesn’t make it feel any less wrong.

As the day draws to its end, Penny’s rocket boots hit the pavement with clanking steps as she makes her way home. She opens her scroll to text Whitley.

Despite her remorse, she couldn’t give this relationship up. Even if it wasn’t the honest thing to do, Penny couldn’t abandon this love of hers even with the ticking time bomb of her identity looming over it.

She’s mid-responds when an alert from the security department overtakes her screen. It’s a loud blaring alarm in red font so bright Penny has to pull her scroll back just to read it.

“Security Breach! Authorized Airship Highjacked! Unidentified Assailants Approaching Main City! All Armed Forces Be On Alert!”

It reads, but that’s just the header. Scrolling further down the news only gets bleaker.

“Border Guard Mecha Is Down! Border Mecha Has Been Disarmed With Extreme Damage!”

“High Influx Of Grimm Approaching! All Available Huntsmen And Gate Guards To The Mantle Breach! Grimm Stampede Imminent! Protect Residential Areas At All Costs!”

Penny: What!

Penny shouts aloud, flabbergasted by the news and the dangers it entails for both cities. And she’s not the only one.

Up above in Atlas General Ironwood is pacing around his office waiting impatiently for some special forces to arrive. Meanwhile, Winter is helping baton down the hatches at the academy and safeguarding Freya. All available huntsmen teams and foot soldiers are sent on high alert, even Team FNKI sets off to lockdown their territory.

Back down in Mantle, Penny sends off a quick text to Whitley.

Penny: [Sorry, something just came up! I’ll be working late so don’t wait up for me.]

Once the text goes through Penny pockets her scroll and gets into combat mode, taking off on the spot into the sky.

The air over both cities feels much heavier as the tight veil of security finally catches a hole in it’s seams.

Chapter 15: Comfort and Conflict

Penny didn’t sleep much that night, guilt keeping her awake until the early hours of the morning. Her sleep is blank of scenarios but she accepts the darkness and the fear it induces in her. Honestly, she felt like she deserved it, to be lost to the void to reflect on her deception, cowardice, and selfishness. But even that was a selfish act, letting herself slip away into darkness to avoid the anguish that waited for her in the waking world.

In the morning she’s greeted by two notifications on her scroll, a text message and an incoming call. The talk was all but brief, they said their good mornings, and Penny inquired on the status of Whitley’s wounds and overall condition. Surprisingly or unsurprisingly considering the circumstances Whitley had cleaned himself up rather well, applied topical ointment, and rewrapped his injuries on his own. He had even taken a few mild pain sedatives before calling.

It was strange, no, eerie how quickly and easily Whitley managed to tend to himself like this. Most people wouldn’t be able to withstand the pain of treating their own fresh wounds, especially in such tender areas. But Whitley, after last night’s confession seemed completely unbothered. Was he just that used to this type of treatment that he had grown a greater pain tolerance or had he simply learned to disassociate from the pain to get through it?

Penny couldn’t tell which, and she didn’t want to know. All she wanted was to be with him and hold him tight, to give him some peace of mind in a way only she could. But she had to be patient, this was his pain, not hers and she had already withheld too much from him to be demanding anything right now. So she listens intently, only asking questions about his injuries and pain levels until finally, they get to the topic of her coming up.

Whitley: Remember how you asked me how I got back in the manor the other night?

Penny: Yes?

Whitley: Take a look at the picture I sent you and I’ll show you.

Penny nods and pulls up the texted image. When the file loads it reveals what looks like blueprints. But on closer inspection, it's a map! A map of hidden tunnels, passageways, and exits in the Schnee Manor. It was like something out of a mystery novel or period drama, there were even hidden rooms and a secret treasury!

Penny: …Wow.

Whitley: I know. Presenting the Schnee Manor’s best-kept secret, the tunnels. As an ex-miner and experienced hunter, my grandfather was a little paranoid when it came to home safety. He knew the importance of always having a way out of trouble and a place to hide in case of an emergency. After climbing to the upper class and seeing the ruthlessness of the business world first hand he kept those ideas in mind when building his dream home.

Penny: Amazing.

Whitley: Indeed, it’s been a real lifesaver. In more ways than one.

He quips, smirking at his own sly humor as always. Penny doesn’t comment but smiles, a little relieved that Whitley is doing well enough to joke with her again. Her smile perks him right up and Whitley clears his throat before diving into details.

Whitley: Now, time for a special pop-up lesson. Pay close attention because this is top-secret information for your ears only.

He states playfully, Penny sits up straight and takes on a more studious posture as Whitley begins his lecture. He teaches the ends and out of the tunnel system, where the hidden doors are, how the locks work, and so on.

Whitley: On either side of the main house there are several false statues and wall engravings, if you look close enough you’ll notice that certain parts are actually buttons and switches. When pushed in the correct order they unlock a secret door into the tunnels.

He explains, describing the different etchings and sculptures and the unlocking sequences of each along the map. He also entails the blind spots in security these secret doors as the current system was cheap and without those routes in mind per Jacques’s usual ignorance. It’s a long process but Penny takes everything in without complaint or confusion, her desire to get to him slowly drowning out the static of her underlying guilt and shame. The call ends with a simple but sweet farewell.

Whitley: See you soon, I love you.

Penny: I love you too, I’ll be there soon.

She waves goodbye before hanging up, clutching her scroll to her chest for a moment after the screen goes blank. Her chest still burned but there was no time for her own discomfort, Whitley needed her help now and she was in no state to be unhelpful. Penny gets up and dressed quickly, emptying her backpack and stocking it with medical supplies from her dad’s emergency kit. Her steps are quiet and swift, not wanting to wake her dad from his sleep as she traverses the house. She hadn’t had the chance to tell him anything, nor had the mind or the heart to do it now. Not while she hadn’t seen Whitley and confirmed his safety yet. Until that task was completed, Penny could not be at ease enough to function outside of this frantic caretaker mode she found herself in. As she silently savages there are a million different worries and questions running through her mind.

Penny: Did he eat yet? Should I take him something? Would he even want that? If so what do I bring? I don’t know how to cook well and can’t make anything without waking Dad. And even if I did what would I-Ugh! I don’t have time for this!

She snaps at herself, frustrated with her own thoughts. After a quick sweep of the cabinets, Penny grabs a bag of gingersnaps, some packs of hot chocolate powder, and a handful of sweets from her dad’s bag of hard candies. Not much but nothing that would be noticed immediately and could be replaced with a fuss.

As she heads to the front door, Penny brushes past her still-dirty boots. The grimm ash clinging to them had dried into a thick coat against the metal. The layer of black was so dense she could hardly see the metal underneath.

Penny: I’ll clean them when I get back.

She thought, unbothered and unfocused as she turned her gaze back to the door. She leaves in silence, locking the door with a barely audible click. Her trek to the Schnee manor is simple, first to the train station up on the first train then to the first taxi she can hail once in the upper city for a drive just a few city blocks short of her destination. Throughout her travels, Penny is scarily quiet with no trace of her usual cheeriness. Outwardly it’s a polite silence, a simple courtesy from a considerate passenger. Inside Penny’s silence was a result of pure drive, she wasn’t thinking at all just functioning. Her mind was almost at a complete pause, stalled to keep the little mental fortitude she had left from breaking down. The most that comes out of her is a soft “thank you” to the cab driver as she gets out.

On the road alone she makes it to the manor long before the afternoon, sticking close to the sides as she was instructed. Sneaking past the front gates around the driveway to the first side building, paying close attention to the walls as she looks for the engraving that would act as her entrance. Walking further down gazing at every inch of the structure with close inspection Penny finds what she’s after. It’s just as Whitley described, a sphinx grimm standing upright on its hind legs carved into the white masonry of the foundation. It’s almost completely flat in texture and so light in color that one wouldn’t be able to see it after dark or even through a thick shadow. Still, the art itself is beautiful and well crafted, the styling segmenting the creature it portrayed into disconnected parts with thick lines that flowed into curled ends that made the fearsome creature look almost whimsical.

Pulling out her scroll, Penny texts Whitley a notice of her arrival and where to find her before making her attempt at opening the trick door. She pockets her scroll and runs her fingers over the mosaic.

Penny: Whitley said the pattern for the Grimm doors was simple, the pattern in which you’d take it apart during an attack according to his grandfather’s hunting style. For the sphinx he’d start with the paws, to break its stance and impair its mobility.

She reaches her hand up to the raised front paws of the carving and presses hard, the stone gives under the pressure of her touch and slides back. Penny breathes a sigh of relief, then glides her hand down to the grounded paws and presses them with the same force. They give way just as easily as the front, sliding back seamlessly into the wall.

Penny: Okay, next the wings to cut off its last means of escape.

She reached up and pressed down on the wings which clicked back into place just like the paws.

Penny: And lastly the killing strike at the head.

With one final long reach, Penny gets up on her tiptoes and presses down on the head of the sphinx carving, it slides back, and soon she hears mechanisms shifting and clicking behind the wall. With a puff of air, the carving pushes back into the building revealing the door shape frame it decorated. With a hesitant push, Penny opens the door back further and steps inside the space behind it. Inside was a hallway, one of many pathways through the hidden tunnels. Sliding behind the door to push it closed Penny sees parts of the pressure lock that keep the door so tightly closed and hidden, and the lever on the other side to open it from within. It was very rudimentary and frankly plain old school but effective. Covering her tracks, Penny pushes the heavy stone door closed only to hear soft footsteps and clapping slowly approaching her direction. She immediately turns towards the sound to find Whitley walking towards her, applauding her efforts and coming her way.

Whitley: Bravo, you got in on the first try without a single mistake. Well done, my brilliant stude-

Penny doesn’t let him finish his musings before rushing him, pulling Whitley into her arm in a tight embrace. She buries her face in his shoulder, taking in his scent, his warmth, and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, everything her senses can detect to confirm he was right there in front of her. Her act immediately shocks Whitley out of his attempted tease but also melts his heart, her strong affection was exactly what he needed right now. With love-filled eyes, he returns her hug with equal warmth and kisses her softly on her forehead, right on her bangs. For as much pain as he was still in, Whitley felt blissful in Penny’s arms as they reassured him that he was no longer alone in his suffering and that someone was willing to comfort him through it no matter how difficult it was to do so.

Meanwhile, Penny is stewing in a mix of guilt, relief, and sorrow. She was so happy to see Whitley in good spirits but the knot in her stomach only grew tighter at the contact. The feeling of his lips on her locks was so bittersweet, at any other time she would have blushed with glee from the act but right now it made her skin crawl with shame. How cruel of her to let him lavish her with such tenderness when she was no better than anyone else in his life. She had lied to him from the very beginning about her true nature. She’d masqueraded as human and tricked him into loving her and relying on her at his lowest. She made him believe that finally there was a person whom he could trust wholly and utterly, a crime too similar to the con his mother had fallen for. She was a betrayer to the highest degree yet she still held onto him like this, refusing to reveal the truth but unable to let him go. If she could see herself right now Penny would heave with disgust but instead, she only holds him tighter as if he’d vanish into thin air if she couldn’t feel him.

The added pressure irritates Whitley’s back wounds and his body quivers. Penny notices and jerks back, loosening her grip and looking up at him with concern.

Whitley: Ow.

He squeaks almost playfully, trying hard to make the push in his injuries sound less painful than it really was. But the already guilt-wracked Penny isn’t so easily fooled.

Penny: I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!

She exclaims, her face full of remorse and worry. Seeing her distress Whitley pats her head and pulls her back to him.

Whitley: Shh, I know, I know, you’d never do anything to hurt me. Just try to be gentle, I’m still very tender.

He cues sweetly before planting another soft kiss on her forehead. Penny swallows back the ball of shame in the back of her throat and nods along, unable to speak for fear of what would come out of her in this fragile state. Noting her confirmation Whitley relaxes his hold on her

Whitley: Good. Now come with me, I’d like to talk somewhere more comfortable.

He states, motioning further down the tunnels. Penny nods again in agreement and the two walk down the pathway hand in hand. Dim lamps on the walls light their path as Whitley leads the way to a panic room. The door to the room is just as expected for a panic room, sturdy with a keypad acting as the only means to enter from the outside. Whitley steps forward to enter the code and holds the door for Penny to walk in first. Inside is a very well-stuck setup, a bed set against one wall with bedding boxed underneath, proper plumbing, an emergency communications system, a wall full of weapons for safety against attackers, clean bottled water, and a stock of non-perishable food along with some books and board for entertainment. Honestly, it was like a luxury fallout shelter with a mini armory but for its given purpose it could be considered cozy.

Whitley: After you.

He chirps, gesturing for Penny to head inside. She does and Whitley follows, letting the door close behind with a slam that echoes through the tunnels but never breaks past their thick walls. Inside the panic room Penny peeks and pokes around the area, almost inspecting the room to double-check its accommodations.

Penny: This is…a very well-made emergency room.

Whitley: Grandfather was a thorough man when it came to his family’s safety.

Penny: Understandably, though it is kind of dusty in here.

Whitley: Product of time, this place hasn’t been touched in years. Not since the beheading incident.

Penny’s eyes widen at the word behead and she immediately inquires about the details.

Penny: Excuse me, did you just say beheading incident? When and where was there a beheading incident?!

She asks, earnestly concerned by the possibility of Whitley being privy to such a heinous crime. Understanding her worry Whitley answers frankly.

Whitley: It happened almost a decade ago when the White Fang were at their most…hostile for lack of a better term. Father had recently taken over as head of the SDC and put into place some new labor policies that did not go over well with the populous, especially with the White Fang. There were several incidents of them kidnapping board members and their families and ransoming them to get the policies that targeted faunus overturned but Father doesn’t negotiate with terrorists so their attacks kept getting bolder and bolder until they started taking things too far.

He sighed, nodding his head in disapproval as he regaled the unfortunate memory.

Whitley: The poor man was an old friend of Grandfather’s, worked in the mines with them since they were just kids, and was one of Mother’s godfathers. They waited until Father was abroad and sent a recording of them…tearing his head off his shoulders to my mother during the night.

Penny: Oh my god.

Whitley: Alongside a box containing his still bleeding head.

Penny: Oh my god!

Whitley: Yes, it was… truly terrifying. Of course, I didn't know any of this until years later but that night I was woken up by my mother pulling me out of bed, Winter standing behind her carrying a still-sleeping Weiss over her shoulders. Mother told me to be very quiet and not move, that she was taking us to a secret place but that no one could see us go there so we had to sneak away. She made it seem like it was a fun little game she’d made up, to keep me from getting scared I’m sure. It worked, I put little hands over my mouth and stayed as still as a statue while she carried me. She rushed us through one of the hidden doors and into this panic room, sat Weiss and me down on the bed, and grabbed a sword. Mother and Winter stood guard at the door until we got the all-clear in the morning. It was the first time I’d ever seen her look so serious or move so quick! It was like I was seeing a different person…the person she was before Father. Before his lies…before he ruined her.

He says wistfully, eyes clouded with nostalgia and grief at just how far everything had fallen since that terrible incident.

Whitley: Security around us increased for a long time after and the killings didn’t stop for even longer, but eventually the White Fang did give up on the SDC. Though it cost many lives in the end Father’s stubbornness prevailed!…and the pile of bodies just kept growing bigger every year.

He jokes bitterly, the curt reminder of how cruel his father could be in the fact of direct threats to his family souring his mood. But the building bile is halted by the feel of warm arms wrapping around him and pulling him into a nurturing hug. Penny pulls his head onto her shoulders, holding it with care as she fights back the urge to cry.

Penny: I’m so sorry that happened to you.

She says sympathetically, hand moving up to caress Whitley’s hair to ease a bit of tension telling that story had fostered in him. Her tender actions elicit a soft smile from the white-haired boy who in turn wraps his arms around her middle to bring her closer.

Whitley: It’s okay, despite the tragedy that night isn’t a bad memory for me. Rather it’s one of the few times I remember feeling truly safe in this house and protected by my family.

That admission only makes Penny hold on tighter. She hated how casual he was about these terrible things, that he could be so comfortable talking about such horrible events was just too much for her to bear! Worse than that was the fact he was talking like this less than a full day after being brutally beaten! It’s just too awful for her to sit by and quietly accept!

Penny: Speaking of tragedy, how are your injuries?

Whitley stiffens up at the mention of his wounds, he’d been so happy to have Penny with him and so lost in his tale that his current state had slipped his mind.

Whitley: They’re fine, wrapped, and treated just like I promised.

Penny: Let me check, I need to see it for myself.

She replies, the sternness of her voice making it clear this isn’t a question but a demand. Knowing her decree comes from a good place Whitley obeys without resistance.

Whitley: If you insist.

They clean off the bed and throw in the coverings to give themselves a clean workspace. They sit down side by side, Penny digs through her backpack for her medical supplies before ordering Whitley to strip.

Whitley: Excuse me?

Penny: I need you to take off any clothing that obstructs my access to your injuries.

Whitley: I understand your reasoning but don’t you think this is a little…inappropriate? Me being half-dressed in front of you?

He questions giving Penny pause, she thinks for a moment then puts the medical supplies and reaches for the button of her blouse.

Penny: If it’s a matter of embarrassment then I’ll remove some of my clothes too, that way we’ll be equally vulnerable.

She offers, her hands already at the ready to undo the top button. Whitley goes from pale to completely red in less than two seconds. He rushes to grab her hands, clutching them close in his so she can't easily pull them back.

Whitley: W-What in the hell are you doing?!

Penny: Unbuttoning my top?

Whitley: I can see that! Now stop!

Penny: Why? I’m just trying to make you more comfortable.

Whitley: Comfortable-

Whitley sighs and removes one of his hands from hers to clasp his almost cherry-red face.

Whitley: I don’t know if I should envy your naïveté or pity your lack of self-awareness.

He mutters, once again flustered by Penny’s earnest efforts. Still in caretaker mode, Penny doesn't fully grasp what he’s saying and cocks her head in confusion. Whitley lets out a deep sigh upon seeing that familiar look of innocent ignorance. Realizing she doesn't get it Whitley goes for the direct approach, he reaches out and starts undoing her blouse buttons himself. Leaning forward to get into her personal space, so close that she could feel his breath on her neck as Whitley hooks his pointer fingers under Penny’s blouse to keep it open while he trails down. His nimble fingers dancing across the skin of her clavicle with every motion.

Penny: W-w-what are you doing?!

Penny stammered, face bright hot red as his hands continued their machinations on her blouse.

Whitley: Well you offered to take it off for my sake so it’s only fair that I do it for you instead.

He says sweetly, flush face made mischievous with a smirk gracing his lips.

Penny: That’s not-I can do-You don’t have to-

Absolutely flabbergasted, Penny immediately grasps Whitley’s hands and pushes them away, the force of fluttered movements causing her to lose her balance. She falls back into the bed, pulling Whitley along with her by his still-clasped hands. Before either knows it he’s lying on top of her, the buttons on her blouse are fully open leaving part of her chest visible. In this moment Penny’s head is spinning, this situation was far beyond even her wildest dreams and fantasies. Her pulse is racing as she’s overwhelmed with nervousness, embarrassment, and an odd sense of excitement. Whitley however is far calmer, still smirking he leans down to get even closer. Pushing their locked hands together until it’s the only barrier keeping their bodies from touching. He looks her directly in the eye, so close their noses almost brush against each other as he speaks.

Whitley: And this is why we don’t offer things we aren’t ready to give.

He chirps, playfully chastising her naïve actions before pulling away and giving Penny a moment to collect herself.

Eventually, they do get to the task at hand. Whitley strips off his shirt to reveal a heavy amount of bandages across his torso and arms. Seeing up close Penny takes note of how thoroughly he’s wrapped his wounds. It was wrapped so thickly, most likely when the bleeding was at its heaviest, but so cleanly it’s clear this was a practiced procedure. Taking off her gloves and sanitizing her hands before removing the old wrappings, Penny can’t help but feel her hands tremble a bit as they make contact with the gauze. Starting with the biggest area, his back, Penny slowly and gently pulls off the bandages from his torso. Every layer deeper she gets the more bloody the wrapping becomes until she finally covers the skin of his back.

The pop of the deep red from healing lash marks on Whitley’s pale white was an almost ornate kind of horrifying. It was as though someone performed the art of kintsugi on shattered porcelain with blood and scar tissue instead of liquified gold. There was no denying what had happened here, the depth of lashes, the direction, and the overlap where spots were struck repetitively, it was as if the assailant was trying to draw as much blood as possible!

Penny: No, not if.

Jacques most definitely had tried to cause Whitley as much physical damage and pain as possible! And judging from the amount of wounds that appeared to be reopened from past beatings, he was well-practiced in this form of torment.

Penny can hardly breathe and for a second she just stares on in pure horror as she faces the evidence of this tragedy full on. Whitley, feeling her fixed gaze on him, tries to lighten the mood again.

Whitley: Apologies for the grotesque sight. Don’t worry, it looks worse than it feels.

He quips, chuckling at his humor as if the tapestry of damaged skin across his back was no big deal. But his laughter dies the moment Penny finds her voice again and replies with a single phrase.

Penny: I’m sorry.

She mutters, voice choked with tears and anguish as the feelings of grief and helplessness resurface.

How could she not have noticed this? How did she not see this sooner? How could she have been so close but so blind!

Whitley had been suffering so much.

If there was anyone in this kingdom who needed her it was him. And even though she was right there, even though he had trusted her, spent time with her, and had been so good to her Penny had been unable to do the only thing she was designed to do for everyone under her care.

Protect.

She’d failed him, just like everyone else in his life had failed him. And knowing that made Penny want to rip her own heart out of her chest. The pain was just too much, but giving into it now would be pointless. Whitley still needed her and she’d already been too selfish with him already, she couldn’t abandon him to spare herself from this despair.

So with a heavy heart she cleans his wounds out, doing so as gently as possible. But there’s no stopping the sting of rubbing alcohol against healing flesh. That was just how the process worked. But still, every time Whitley twitched in pain, Penny felt a piece of herself hurt for him.

Penny: Sorry.

She chirps again, repeating it every time he shows even the slightest hint of discomfort. Each time Whitley tries to soothe her worries, glancing over his shoulder to peek at her with a sympathetic gaze.

Whitley: It’s fine.

He says.

Whitley: It’s okay, that means you're doing it right.

He says.

Whitley: I’m fine, just keep going.

He meets her worry with comfort, matching her usual positivity with his own version. Once his back wounds are fully cleaned and rewrapped they move on to his forearms. By the end, all of Whitley’s wounds are clean and both teens are mentally exhausted from the experience. Penny was wracked with guilt and concern while Whitley was overcome with a strong sense of vulnerability.

It had been a long time since someone had tended to him so carefully and the first time he’d been this undressed in front of someone he viewed intimately. He hated to see her cry but couldn’t help the feeling of joy knowing she cared so much brought him.

No one else would or had fought so hard to care for him this way.

No one but Penny Polendina.

And Whitley truly adored her for it, he appreciated every second she devoted to being with him and loving him the way she did. He had almost forgotten how being loved so effortlessly and unconditionally felt so he did his best to return it with equal care.

As he’s redressing and she’s putting away her medical supplies, Whitley pauses for a moment and reaches over to wipe away Penny’s tears. He pushes away at the tear strand with his thumb while caressing her cheek. Penny continues packing the medical tools away but the second they’re all secured she turns to face him and cups his hand. She gently rubs the back of his hand with her thumb which Whitley responds to by caressing her other cheek with his free hand. He looks deep into her teary-eyes and plants a kiss in the space between them.

Whitley: Thank you, love.

He bellows.

Whitley: For everything.

He whispers, cradling her face in his hands like it’s the most precious thing in the world. And to him, she was, a being worth more than anything. The answer to countless prayers, someone who loved him wholeheartedly and unconditionally. Even the sting of his healing lash wounds couldn’t dull the peace he had with her. Penny was everything he could have asked for and more than he could ever dream of. The first true grace he’d been blessed with in so long that he’s almost surprised how he survived so long without her.

Penny can feel the love radiating from him and is so torn. She wants to embrace it, take in every word, every action, every single bit of affection Whitley had to give but the guilt makes her heart quake with the weight of her deceit.

This joy, this comfort she gave him was built on falsehoods but she couldn’t dare bring herself to take away. Not when he needed her and not when she loved him this much.

This tense but tender moment is only halted by the sound of a soft stomach grumble. The second Penny hears it she knows what’s happened. Her expression shifts from solemn to annoyance as she looks at Whitley who’s cheeks are already burning with embarrassment.

Whitley: Ex-excuse me.

He apologizes, to which Penny responds with a snappy retort.

Penny: You didn’t eat enough again, did you?

She accuses, or more proclaims as Whitley avoids eye contact after being called out on his poor self-care.

Penny: You can’t not eat when you’re actively taking pain medicine! Your body won’t absorb it correctly and you’ll be at risk of illness or even overdose!

She lectures, pouted face with puffed cheeks at Whitley’s absolute lack of self-preservation when it came to his body! Knowing he’s in for an earful Whitley decides not to fight her on this and accepts his fate.

Whitley: I know, I know, I should take better care of myself.

Penny: Yes, you should!

Whitley: But you can understand why I wasn’t feeling particularly peckish.

Penny: I-Well…

This gives Penny pause as she recalls the state Whitley was in the night before. The situation had driven her into a mad rage but it must have absolutely drained him of all energy. Food was probably the last thing on his mind during all this.

Penny: I can understand why this level of stress of this would impede your appetite.

She sighs, her mood deflating back down along with her gaze. Eyes turned to the floor Penny catches sight of her backpack and remembers what medical supplies wasn’t all she brought.

Penny: But still! You should at least have something.

She states, pulling away from Whitley and reaching back down for her bag. She retrieves the little snacks she’d brought from home.

Penny: I didn’t have the time or the forethought to go the store beforehand but I did bring these just in case!

She presents Whitley with her assortment of treats. It’s not much and seemed to be the type of treats one would find in an old person’s handbag. Still, the gesture is sweet and brings a smile to Whitley’s face. As he looks through her little haul of goodies Whitley notices the packs of hot cocoa mix and gets an idea.

He gets up from the bed and walks over to check the panic room’s provisions. The room was fit with state-of-the-art equipment and non-perishable food that could last for quite a long time, and knowing his grandfather some of these would be some old staples from his time as a miner in tundra. Like dust-powered compact cooking gear. True to Nicolas’s reliability there are several pieces of camping cooking equipment, including what Whitley was searching for, a dust-powered camping stove with a pot attachment.

Whitley pulls it out and presents the appliance to Penny. Penny jumps up and rushes over to inspect the object, it’s in great condition and ready for use at any time!

With this the two hatch a plan.

After wiping down the pot, stove, a ladle, and a couple of cups with some rubbing alcohol and water, they make a mix of water and powdered milk, then set the pot to heat. As the milk mix boils they sit and wait to add the cocoa mix. As both are very inexperienced in cooking, they watched the pot carefully, Whitley from a bit further off than Penny as he was nowhere near as comfortable with the idea of hot bubbling liquid near his body as Penny was, especially in his current condition. Penny, however, takes the task a little too seriously as her enhanced senses allow her to precisely gauge the rising temperature of the milk substitute as it approaches its boiling point. She stares intensely at the pot, waiting for just the right moment.

Penny: Wait for it….just a few more seconds.

She mumbles, watching the bubbles until the critical moment, then-

Penny: Now!

She strikes! Following instructions on the back of the pack, Penny pours in the mix and tours down the heat before grabbing the ladle to stir the drink together. Her stirring method is gentle but firm going in a counter-clockwise motion at a steady speed. It’s the way her dad tended to stir things like soup or oatmeal and though she was no cook herself Penny was adequate at learning just by watching. Whitley watches on, silently impressed by her seemingly seamless ability to adapt to almost any situation.

Whitley: Is anything she can’t do?

He muses fondly, gaze ever fixed on Penny as she turns the heat on the pot off completely then looks back at him.

Penny: It’s ready!

She cheers, breaking Whitley out of his thoughts and into action. He grabs the mugs and holds them out for Penny to pour the hot cocoa in. The young lovers sit back in the bed, mugs in hand, and a mixed bag of candies and ginger snaps between them they have a pleasant little snack time in the panic room. Penny doesn’t reach for any of the snacks until Whitley does, hoping he’ll eat more if she takes less. The first thing he grabs is a ginger snap, something he hadn’t ever had before. Sure he had plenty of ginger-flavored desserts and foods before but most only had a trace amount for taste but this confection was known to have a lot more. He takes a cautious bite into the hard cookie and the moment he starts chewing the flavor hits him. It's dry but moist after a few seconds, taste made hearty by a mix of ginger, cinnamon, and sugar. Though the first two ingredients pair well when lightened by the third, those unfamiliar with the treat can find it a tad bit-

Whitley: Spicy!

-pungent.

Trying not to seem ungrateful or uncomfortable Whitley takes sips of his cocoa to wash it down. The sweetness of the drink is slightly undercut by its water base but its warmth does wonders to calm his tense body. He sighs softly as his shoulders relax, Penny notices and smiles. She unwraps one of the hard candies and holds it up for Whitley to take. The sweetness should be enough to soothe the sting of the gingersnap spice. She holds it right above his lips and true to his usual sly attitude, Whitley eats it directly out of her hand.

When all the treats are gone and they start cleaning up Whitley can’t shake off a sudden wave of fatigue. This wasn’t too uncommon after a blowup, once things settled down he’d feel a little drowsiness as his stress levels even back out but this was more pronounced than before. Perhaps it was Penny’s presence making him feel secure or maybe last night’s venting had taken more out of him than he thought. Regardless, at this moment Whitley Schnee only wanted one thing, sleep. He lies down on the bed, curling up into a comfortable position on his side. The bed wasn’t as comfortable as his own but he’d been in worse conditions than this. Looking up, he spots Penny sitting at the edge of the bed. He reaches over and taps the base of her spine with his fingertips, grabbing her attention. She looks back at him and is greeted by the sight of him gazing back at her on his side while patting the empty space beside him.

Whitley: Come here, let’s take a nap.

He beckons.

Penny: H-here? Now?

She questions completely caught off guard, but Whitley doesn’t relent. He knows how to get to her and just can’t give up this selfish whim of his to have her close. He pouts, softening his gaze to look a bit pitiful before asking again.

Whitley: Please? I really wanna hold you.

He pleads, bottom lip quivering as he pats the open space next to him. Penny is flustered, Whitley’s affections were usually subtle but bold but this was a new level. One she didn’t deserve, not anymore with the truths she’s hidden even during this trying time.

Still, it was so tempting.

Despite her guilt and frustration with the situation, the idea of lying down and embracing him was just too alluring. She came here to comfort and protect him after failing to notice his circumstances so how could she deny him what she was already willing and want to give?

Penny’s shoes hit the floor with a thump as she slides them off and rolls onto her side, laying down directly beside Whitley.

Whitley: Hi.

He chimes, a sweet blush and a soft smile illuminating his pale face.

Penny: Hi.

She replies, cheeks just as rosy, her eyes setting their transfixed gaze on his.

Staring face to face the shared desire for a kiss was immediately palpable, gazing into each other’s eyes as they lay so close that they could breathe in each other’s breath. It was only natural such intimate closeness would make both yearn to close the gap.

But Penny couldn’t let that happen, not with the truth still resting on her tongue and a wall of omission obscuring her true self.

So when Whitley leans in Penny doesn’t pull away but redirects, kissing his cheek before his lips can reach hers. Feeling his soft skin against her lips is sweet but sobering, she may not get another chance to do this anytime soon so against her better judgment Penny takes advantage. She clasps her hands around Whitley’s face and peppers it with slow gentle kisses, her body pushing up to his as she seeks better access.

Whitley is stunned at the first kiss but by the third, he relaxes into the soft swarm of tenderness he’s receiving. He wraps his arms around her middle to better feel her warmth. After Penny places a final kiss on his forehead she moves her hands to wrap around his shoulders, burying her face into the crook of his neck. The two exchange no more words, instead they are lulled to sleep by the soft tones of each other’s breathing and the beats of their hearts.

As she begins to drift off Penny recalls the state in which this all came to be. She still hadn’t told Whitley she was an android, Jacques had still beaten his son mercilessly without punishment, and her boots were still covered in the ashy entrails of her previous night’s outburst. This was far from over and the consequences would come back to bite her at some point.

Chapter 14: A Single Mistake

Trigger warning: Child Abuse and Whipping

Jacques had arrived home with a crash as he burst through the front door, clip-on tie in his hand, open coat and shirt unbuttoned reeking of alcohol, tobacco, and anger. His disheveled appearance goes unwitnessed as the manor is eerily quiet, all the staff were either away or asleep in their quarters, as were the other occupants of the estate.

Or at least that’s how it seemed.

Up in his room, Whitley had managed to get inside, changed, and in bed before Jaques had even pulled up to the driveway. But he hadn’t gone to sleep yet, no he had just lied down and gotten into a sleeping position. Laying still and waiting with his bedroom door slightly agape, listening for his father’s return knowing that the second he opened the front door would be the dropping of landmines, and he would need to map them out before morning to ensure a safe passage for all come sunrise.

The first comes immediately with a shout as Jaques throws his coat to the floor while swearing like a sailor. His grumbling fit continues from the door through the hallways until coming to a stop with the harsh swing open and slamming shut of his bedroom doors.

Whitley waits for a few more minutes, just to be sure, and when the manor returns to its deafening silence he relaxes enough to sleep. He doesn’t doze for long, rising again when the sun comes up, and getting ready for the trying day ahead of him. After a quick shower, brush of hair and teeth, and change into his usual attire Whitley goes out into the halls to give the manor a once-over. The morning rotation of staff is just getting started when the young master comes in to evaluate the damage. It’s no worse than usual, broken vases, soil tracked in from his dirty shoes stomping against the marble flooring, all the normal signs of a Jacques hissy fit.

Whitley: Better start with the cleanup.

He thought, looking down at the broken remains of an antique flower vase. Per usual, he instructs the staff to clean up the messes from the previous night’s fit and discard what was too broken to be saved, taking note of the things that would need replacing to order at a later date. When breakfast time rolls around Whitley goes to the kitchen to check his mother’s food and sort out his father’s meals for the day. Knowing he’d be up late in the day and likely with a hangover, Whitley ordered a set of light meals mostly of soups and bread with finely cut meat to aid in his father’s recovery. As for his mother, he advised the cooks to make her something warm and filling but not too heavy to help her sleep.

Whitley: Better that she stay in her room until he’s calmed down. Don’t want a repeat of last time.

He muses before sitting down to have his own breakfast of avocado toast and a small bowl of fruit. With no time to lounge about Whitley finishes his meal quickly and gets back to work. By the afternoon, the manor is pristine, remedies are ready for use, and staff has been warned to be on guard. To finish off the clean-up Whitley goes to his father’s library and settles in with a book, waiting patiently in the wings at stage left for the drama to unfold so he can play his part.

As if on cue, Jacques finally awakes from his slumber with a choked gasp, salvia trailing down his cheek and pooling into a puddle of drool on the sheets below. Looking around with squinted red eyes, it takes him a moment to recall where he is, groaning aloud once he recognizes the ceiling of his own bedroom. Still hungover and agitated, Jacques turns on his bedside lamp, the light irritating his already splitting head and forcing him to sit up to adjust his vision.

Last night’s outing had been a complete failure! A complete waste of an evening spent in a stuffy old war museum full of stuffy old geezers!

Jacques had gone to the event to make some headway with the older generation and persuade a few to back his campaign.

Jacques: It should have been so simple, like shooting fish in a barrel!

Catering to old-timers was a no-brainer for him, all it took was some sweeping compliments, politeness, and playing to their political views and the living fossils would be eating out of his hand. It all should have gone so smoothly, he was playing them all like fiddles! Until one decrepit bag of bones had to open his mouth.

Jacques: That dammed Lutetuimor!

Irving Lutetuimor, a seventy-eight-year-old tradesman and military fanatic, a man of old money and a huge supporter of General Ironwood had voted for him multiple times. He also held quite the distaste for Jacques, referring to the man as a “trifling little upstart”, “pretty boy parasite” and “Willow’s rescue” back when he’d first appeared on Atlas’s high society scene. Years later that distaste had only grown with time, and with Jacques trying to get his foot into politics Lutetuimer had a new reason to despise him.

That old codger had battled him on every single talking point, policy, and action plan Jacques presented. All night this man would pick and prod at him, doing everything in his power to discredit him at every opportunity. Originally Jaques was supposed to go to a club for some “entertainment” with a few of his colleagues but Lutetuimor’s antics had soured his mood so much he decided to turn in earlier. Throughout the night Jacques had nursed his seething rage with glasses of wine followed by some spirits and a few pills to calm him down in the limousine. Now he was living with the consequences of that choice and his still seething rage.

Jacques: Uuuugghhhhh.

He grumbles, reaching out and pulling the thick silver rope beside his bed to ring his servant bell.

Yes, he has a servant bell in his bedroom. No there is not another in any of the other rooms in the manor. It was custom-built for him specifically under his order not one day after Willow and he started sleeping in separate wings of the estate. And despite staff being near often in close rotations, some even having pagers, he still used it to call for assistance. Mostly when he was hungover or thoroughly impaired.

With a harsh pull, the bell rings loud across Jacques’s wing of the manor, startling the staff hard at work and alerting Whitley to his father's awakening.

Whitley: And thus shitshow begins.

He thought, putting his book down and getting up from his seat to stand by the library doors. He listens as the staff hurries to tend to Jacques before the ringing drives them mad. It takes roughly an hour to get Jacques situated as he barks orders at a rapid pace with little to no clarification and a harsh tone but thanks to the preparations the maids and butlers act with the quickness to match. Soon he’s fed, medicated, tidied up, and dressed. A long gray fur-lined, white wool pants and light cotton white button-up replace his usual attire. When he’s finally settled, Jacques shews his servants off and stomps to his office in a huff.

With his chance to appeal to the elderly voters dashed at the moment Jacques’s spree of campaigning had hit a rough patch. By now rumors would already be making the rounds and undercutting all his previous efforts. He couldn’t act too soon or he’d seem rash but he couldn’t ignore it or he’d seem oblivious, Gods it frustrated him to no end!

Jacques: Damned that old bastard! He should have just kept his trap shut!

He grumbled, sitting down at his desk chair with a thump, taping his left foot on the floor as he tried to cook up a plan to get his campaign back on track before any more problems arose. Not much could be done without more doubt and suspicion falling on him but once the heat dies down Jacques would be able to make a comeback. Still, that does little to calm his irritation.

Jacques hated to lose even if temporarily, he had struck gold with Willow, climbed his way to the top, and did and continued to do everything in his power to stay there. Now he was only on the cusp of a new height, becoming a council member alongside his position as head of the SDC would make him the most power in the kingdom, if not the whole world! He was truly standing on the edge of greatness and yet things just wouldn’t go the way he wanted!

Jacques: Damn it all!

He groans in frustration. While thinking Jacques notices the pile of paperwork stacked neatly on his desk. It was the work he’d given Whitley the other day. With nothing better to do, Jacques takes a look through it. Everything looked in order as always, forms were filled out correctly, and sorted in order of importance and time sensitivity, until the final page of a spreadsheet which had an unfilled blank spot in the very last column.

Jacques groans loudly, slamming the papers back down onto his desk. Yet another disappointment to add to the pile of failures. However, unlike the rest, this one could be corrected swiftly. The ring is his small but still highly audible office servant bell, yes he had another this being a traditional handbell, Jacques summons the attention of nearby staff, who quickly move towards the sound to receive their master’s new demands.

Meanwhile, Whitley is still waiting in the library, pacing back and forth by the doors, ready to dive into action when things kick off. He’s stopped in his stride by the left door opening and Hannah walking in, her expression full of caution and uneasiness.

Hannah: Young Master?

She inquires meekly, Whitley meets her anxious gaze with a calm neutral expression.

Whitley: Yes, Hannah.

Hannah: Master Jacques would like to see you in his office, immediately.

She states softly. Despite her tone, Whitley knew well that this was an order, not a request. Not being one to shoot the massager he lets out a gentle sigh and shoots her a soft smile.

Whitley: Of course he does. I’ll see myself out so please return to your post until we call for you.

He orders gently before passing her by and leaving the library, Hannah lets out a sigh of relief before rushing off in the opposite direction. As he makes his way toward Jacques’s office Whitley feels a knot tightening in his stomach. He was only called to his father’s office for one of two things and given his mood even if it was to better of two evils it would still be worse than usual.

Whitley: Even if everything’s in order that man will find any reason to vent when he’s pissed. But if my ears must stand some strain to end this quickly so be it.

He thought, arriving far sooner than he’d realized. Standing in front of the door of his father’s office Whitley stares at the thick white oak door for a moment and takes a deep breath in and out before knocking three times.

Jacques: Come in!

Jacques shouts from behind the door. Taking one more deep breath, Whitley grabs the doorknob and pulls the heavy door open, its effortless glide doing little to mask the tremendous weight behind the motion. Without giving himself time to run or regret Whitley steps inside the office and shuts the door behind him, closing him into the room and off from the outside world.

Jacques: There you are! I’ve been calling for you for ages! What took you so long?!

He barks. It’s a complete lie and Whitley knows that but still, he plays along with his father’s antics.

Whitley: My apologies, I was double-checking some maintenance work near the garden when I was called.

He explains, which Jacques seemingly ignores before immediately getting to the point.

Jacques: Speaking of double-checking, can you explain why this was not checked?

He pulls out the incomplete form, tapping at the blank space with the tip of his pen. Whitley walks over to get a better look and almost immediately realizes his mistake, his face falters for a brief second before pulling back as he tries to recover the situation.

Whitley: That figure is a travel expense that we didn’t incur because of the embargo. Seems in my haste to finish in a timely manner I forgot to pull the appropriate sign. Please a-allow me to-

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Jacques shoves both the form and pen into his face. Without a second thought, Whitley looks through the form again, double-triple and quadruple-checking it for any other errors he might have missed in his rush before filling in the empty space with a null sign as he originally should have. When he looks back up at his father staring at him intently, his dull blue eyes are even colder than usual as his gaze pierces through his son like a blade. Though his nerves were beginning to flare Whitley maintained his composer and placed the pen and form back into his father’s desk gingerly. He points his gaze to the space below Jacques’s eyebrows to keep the illusion of eye contact without heightening his fear by actually looking at his father dead-on. For a moment there’s a deafening silence, with the curtains draw the dimly lit room growing darker and colder with every second that passes by. In a last-ditch effort to appease the frosty businessman Whitley speaks up and asks a single question.

Whitley: Is there…anything else I can do?

He asks, no requests as if seeking any way to leave this room and this situation as soon as possible even if only to prolong the inevitable. He attempted with all his might to maintain his typical calm tone but the softness of his voice showed his fear. A fear of what could happen, what was going to happen if he didn’t find a way out of this! And unfortunately, what does happen when Jacques finally replies.

Jacques: Roll up your sleeves and hold out your arms. Eyes closed.

He orders. Whitley stiffens, freezing in fright for a moment before compiling. He rolls up his sleeve to his shoulders, revealing lines of scars across both biceps. He puts his arms together and holds them over the desk, hands palm up and closed-fisted. Whitley takes soft swallow breaths and tries not to shake as he shuts his eyes tightly. Once he’s in position, Jacques pulls his center desk drawer, rifling through briefly before pulling out his sought-after tool, a short-riding crop whip.

The whip was made of strong cane and bound in thick black leather, the length reaching from Jacques's middle finger to his forearm as he held it. The lack of the leather tongue or keeper at the end left it with a rough sharp pointed tip.

Standing up from his desk chair, Jacques stands over Whitley and holds the whip end lengthwise across his arms right above one of the fainter scars. He doesn’t let it touch the skin instead just hover close enough that Whitley could feel it in his proximity. It stays right above his skin until Jacques can see Whitley’s muscles tense and twitch then raises it up. He takes a few mock swings at the flesh of Whitley’s arms once, then twice, before coming down hard into the skin with the third strike.

But instead of the pop of leather against the skin, the whips force ricochets. A familiar faint blue light flickered to life at the contact, surrounding Whitley’s being in its protective glow.

It was as Jacques had feared, his efforts to keep Whitley’s inherent powers at bay were failing.

After Weiss’s departure, Jacques had done everything to guarantee his legacy through his last tie to the Schnee bloodline, his son. He had been grooming him into his most loyal pawn as a last measure in case both his daughters failed to meet his expectancies. And when both Winter and Weiss had escaped his clutches Jacques’s efforts towards Whitley only grew harsher. He pushed him not only toward the role of the heir but away from his true potential as the child of strong huntsmen blood. The Schnee semblance was hereditary all children born of direct relations inherent. The unlocking of aura was inevitable so long as the child lived to see maturity. Both of the girls had unlocked their own right around the beginning of puberty and had been trained in some regards before Jacques had taken full hold of the family’s power. Their eventual revolt and fleeing were unprovable due in part to this as, desperate his best efforts, Jacques was no match for the might of the Glyphs semblance.

But thankfully for him, he had one ace in the hole. Whitley was the youngest, he didn’t have the time to learn about his ability from his grandfather before he passed, and the truth of Jacques’s deceit had shattered the family so firmly that the poor young boy was left behind in the wake with no one to turn to. Training a child into compliance and placation is far from difficult when everything is in chaos. Obedience was the price of peace and the boy had no choice but to pay it if he wanted to keep his sanity.

Unfortunately with time comes growth.

Despite limiting his food intake, increasing his workload to the point of depriving him of a proper sleep schedule, and bringing him into stressful environments to deteriorate his mental fortitude and fortify his control over his son’s psyche Jacques could not stop time’s endless march forward and Whitley didn’t stay that scared little boy for long.

Even looking at him now Jacques could tell, their height difference had been steadily decreasing at an alarming rate. Before he used to tower over the child but now he was less than a head or so taller. Beyond that, Whitley’s frame had grown wide, his shoulders broader, and muscles though undefined robust from the constant effort of maintaining all the duties Jacques had thrown at him. It had been clear to him for some time now that Whitley had grown strong enough to overpower him, if he attacked him directly Jacques would stand little chance of besting his son in physical combat.

So, he ensured that Whitley would never think to strike up at him by striking first.

In the beginning, it was just his arms but after hearing whispers of Whitley carrying his mother during one of her drunken episodes Jacques had moved onto his back, and eventually his feet for good measure. He’d chide the boy for any mistake he could and punish him harshly for it whenever he felt the boy’s cheeks were looking too full or pink along with undermining any means of true connection outside of the manor. He’d done his damnedest to break the boy down until he couldn’t raise his head without permission, but even so, the soul is a hard thing to shatter.

At some point, Whitley’s aura activated on its own during his punishment. Due to Jacques’s efforts, it wasn’t strong enough to hold up to strain and appeared infrequently.

It had been months since he felt the need to punish him, and though there was a lapse when Ironwood’s red-haired dog had been sniffing about, Jacques thought preventing any further interaction had crushed whatever pointless positive the mutt had dragged into Whitley’s psyche. He thought keeping the pressure on him would be enough before some reason his son seemed stronger and healthier than ever before and he had been too busy campaigning to notice.

A mistake that must be rectified immediately.

Whitley is unaware of the glow that surrounds him, eyes closed still awaiting the pain of a strike. He starts to lose feeling in his hands from balling them up so tight, his arm shaking from maintaining this stiff position. He just wanted this to be over and done with so he could get as far away from here as possible. He knew he wouldn’t leave this room unscathed but the sooner it was all over and he could get to nursing his wounds the better.

Whitley: Please, just make it quick. Just take your pint of blood and pound of flesh and let me leave!

He pleads internally, hoping for once his father would know mercy, just this once let the torment be swift and bearable. The pain does come eventually, after several harsh strikes Jacques breaks through Whitley’s aura and thick leather meets soft skin. He gives him five lashes, one for each time hit it took to break through. When the blows finally stop the whip is painted with a thin tent of crimson and Whitley is biting the inside of his cheek, holding back tears.

Whitley: That was…that was enough right? Please tell me it was enough!

He prays, tears threatening to spill over as prays to all the gods that his torture was over. But his prayers, like many others, fall on deaf ears when Jacques issues another command.

Jacques: Kneel.

He orders. Whitley’s eyes shot open, tears falling free as his resolve finally breaks.

Whitley: …..What?

He whimpers, but his pleas do nothing to deter Jacques and restates his command.

Jacques: Take off your shirt and shoes, and kneel. Now.

He demands coldly, powerless, and afraid Whitley obeys. His tears never ceased as he removed his vest then his shirt, his socks, and shoes. The tapestry of scars across his body is on full display as he steps back and gets down on his knees. He kneels upright in what some would consider a praying position with his head down, arms out in front, and the soles of his feet facing up. Jacques steps out from behind his desk, whip still in hand, and as he looms over his son’s back he raises it up high. Gripping the handle tightly, Jacques aims for the tender spot between Whitley’s shoulder blades. Sensing the incoming blow Whitley can’t help but beg for some kind of leniency.

Whitley:….Please..please, don’t-AAHHH!

Whitley’s plea is cut short by a strong crack of the whip to his spine. After the first hit, he can’t hold in his cries as he’s hit with lash after lashing, his mind so engrossed in pain he can’t focus long enough to count the hits. Once much of his old wounds are reopened and his snow white is painted red, Jacques moves down to Whitley’s feet. The soles appeared cracked from scarring as were the heels up to just below his ankles, and with brutal strikes, Jacques only increased that number as his blow tore at the vulnerable flesh.

By the end, the whip stained a bloody red and Whitley can barely hold himself up right. The pain and exhaustion, both emotional and physical, have weighed him down so much he can hardly breathe. The light in his brilliant blue eyes has all but gone out as he stares blankly at the floor. His helpless state elicits a proud huff from Jacques as walks back to his desk and retrieves a cloth rag to clean the whip.

Jacques: I don't want to see any more mistakes like that again, do you understand?

He states, Whitley nods yes slowly never lifting his gaze from the ground. But Jacques pressed him.

Jacques: I said do you understand?

He repeats, obviously wanting a verbal confirmation of Whitley’s submission, and with no strength left in him, Whitley complies.

Whitley:… Yes… Father.

His voice is worn from the screaming, the iron undertaste of blood still fresh in his throat. Satisfied with his work, Jacques waves his son off.

Jacques: Good, now go to your room and think about what you’ve done.

He orders, Whitley nods and redresses to the best of his ability, and leaves the office. His white stains from the red of his still bleeding back but swiftly hidden under his vest as are the prints in his socks with his shoes

At times like this, it was a blessing that he knew how the manor was run down to the minute. That way he could sneak around preying eyes and avoid whispers of unfortunate staff undetected. More for their sake than his, their concern would only put them at further risk. Being a living example of what Jacques could do, even to his own blood, Whitley didn’t want to imagine what he would do to those considerably more expendable.

It takes him much longer to find his way through the hall in his injured state, his feet burning with every step and crease. Fate was truly not on his side today as his isolated path is impeded halfway through by Mary leaning his clearly impaired mother against the wall of an empty hallway. The two make brief eye contact, and Whitley opens his mouth to ask about his mother’s condition but Mary beats him to the punch.

Mary: She got antsy and walked one too many laps around the garden on a stomach full of soup and rum.

She explains, rubbing Willow’s back as the woman attempts to keep her lunch down. Whitley sighs and pats his mother’s head, caressing her temple with his hand before pushing onward.

It takes him far too long to finally reach his bedroom, when he arrives he sees a box of medical supplies sitting at his door. Inside are bandages, medical gauze, disinfectant, and nonprescription painkillers.

A kit to clean himself up with after his beating, typically of his father. This was the closest to a sense of remorse the man had and that was being generous.

Taking the kit inside with him, Whitley is too exhausted to even think of cleaning his wounds. He just wants to rest, to consumed in darkness of his mind and forget this awful day. He tosses the kit onto his bed and hears a metallic thud. He doesn’t really think about what that sound could have be but in a moment he remembers something crucial. In his quick return to the manor the night before Whitley had not had the time to put his pocket watch back in its usual hiding place and had stowed it in his bed frame.

Suddenly panic overtakes him, Whitley dives over to the frame of his bed scouring it for the misplaced watch.

Whitley: Please, please, please!

His mind races with anxiety as he digs down between the boards of his bed frame, not even caring about the strain on his arm wounds until he feels the cool rounded metal on his fingertips. He grabs the watch with all his might and pulls it out, frantically looking it over for damage. Luckily it’s just fine, still ticking on just as it did the day she gave it to him.

Whitley: Thank god.

He clutches the watch close to his chest, right against his heart. He really didn’t know what he’d do if he lost it after everything. The night before had been so wonderful, it would crush him to lose such an important gift.

To lose a piece of her.

Whitley’s eyes well up again and pain seems to hit him all at once.

It hurts, everything hurts so much, it hurts so much!

How long? How long did he have to play this game of submission and terror?!

How long does he have to wait until this nightmare could finally ends?!

Why was he born into this hell?!

Why did he have to be left behind by everyone?!

The people who were supposed to love him unconditionally, his father his mother his sisters not one had done a thing to protect him from the world!

They’d either tormented him or lent on him to survive or left him to rot away in this ivory prison with the madman who’d ruined it in the first place!

No one, no one had him in mind!

No one would step up and be his savior, they didn’t even look back while everything came crashing down!

No one wanted to save him, to protect him, except for….for…

Whitley: Penny.

She was the only person who would do anything to be with him. He had seen it, he felt it, Whitley knew deep in his heart that no matter what happened she be there for him no matter what. While others could give their concern she had the power to fight for him.

She had the will to fight for him!

She’d done so from the moment she knew he was in Mantle and every time he came back. He could never ask it of anyone else, but he trusted Penny, he loved her!

He loves her.

And yet, he hides all of this from her.

Whitley had kept so much bottled up inside to protect himself so he could keep going, keep fighting for his goals, to obtain the freedom that was stolen from him. Secrets and feelings were kept close because he knew that if anything were to go wrong he’d be truly alone. He didn’t want to drag anyone down to the depths of this bottomless despair with him, he couldn’t. But no he had some light, one strong enough to shine through enough to give him the courage to live instead of just survive.

She had given him real happiness and taught him what it meant to be loved and seen after so long.

And yet he couldn’t give her his everything.

Because Whitley was simply too afraid.

Afraid that the ugly truth would ruin the beautiful dream they had created together, that she wouldn't like the shattered parts of him as much as the pristine. Or maybe he just hated those parts so much that he didn’t believe they deserved to be loved.

And yet in the moment, in his most unsightly state of being, all he wanted was to lay his head on her chest wrap his arms around her waist, and cry against her until he had nothing left.

Whitley: Penny.

He weeps, whimpering for her warm touch and soft voice to take away his agony.

As nightfall draws Penny starts at her scroll screen with worry. She’d been waiting all day for Whitley to call her but he hadn’t so much as texted her once since yesterday. He’d promised on his way out that he would and he’d always make sure to a least text or warn her if he was going to be unreachable for a while.

She’d spent the day dodging Neon’s incessant calls and texts all day to clear up the line so she wouldn’t miss him. But as she readies for bed there’s still nothing.

She’s sitting on her bed, fresh out of the bath and in pajamas just staring at the screen hoping he’ll call soon. Her usual smile replaced with a focused stare, as flops down on her side, her grip on her scroll never faltering.

Penny: Please call, I want to see you. I want to hear your voice before I go to sleep. Or I’ll just end up dreaming about it until I do.

She whines to herself, her clingy side coming out with newfound courage. After Team FNKI had found out about Whitley and taken it so well Penny felt more comfortable with their circumstances than before. Her friends in Mantle approved of him, some more than others, and her friends in Atlas liked him too. This was the calmest things had been since they first started dating and Penny wanted to enjoy it for as long as possible.

And like a prayer answer, Penny finally gets a video call request from Whitley! She jumps up, gets into a comfortable sitting position, and fixes her hair up a bit using the viewfinder before hitting the acceptance call button, a big smile across her face as the video feed starts connecting.

Penny: Whitley! Good evening! I have been waiting all…day?

Penny’s smile drops and a pit forms in her gut once Whitley comes into view on her scroll screen. The scroll was sat at an angle where she could see his full form sitting on his bed, and taking it all in just for a second made her eyes wheel up with tears. His eyes are red and puff, he looks deathly pale, and she can see rows of bandages around his torso through his open night shirt.

Whitley: Hello my love, sorry it took so long to get back to you. I’ve been…busy

His voice sounds so horse and tired Penny can't believe he’s even speaking in full sentences with how rough his throat must be. It made her feel queasy with worry as her mind filled with questions and concerns.

Penny: Whitley…..wh-what happened to you?! Why do look so-why are your eyes- your chest is covered in bandages! A-are you okay?!

She fires off question after question not even finishing her thought before moving to the next, she’s so frightened.

They had been together just last night!

He was supposed to be at home all day!

Penny can’t imagine what could have possibly transpired to do this kind of damage in one day since then and in the safety of his own home!

On the other side of the screen, Whitley feels a little more at ease. Though he hated seeing her like this Penny’s concern gave him some peace and security. She won’t look away or ignore his suffering, she cared too much to let things be. That’s why he could be honest for once and tell her everything.

Whitley: Not, I’m okay. Penny, I have not been okay for a long long time.

Penny: What?!

Whitley: I’m been lying to you about a lot of things, hiding things, too many to count. But…I’m tired of lying, of pretending to be strong when I’m not. I’m tired of pretending to be something I’m not.

He admits, eyes searching for a reaction but Penny maintains her look of concern. So he continues.

Whitley: Do you remember how we met? How I used you saving me to make a deal with General Ironwood for my father?

Penny: Y-yes.

Whitley: That….wasn’t the whole truth. The real reason I went out of my way to get involved was to…gain some good will with the General.

Penny: O-okay, but…why?

Whitley: Because…I need his help.…to escape.

Penny tenses at the word escape, knowing enough of the Schnee history she’s got a good idea of what he’s about to say.

Whitley: He helped my sisters get out, so I thought-

Whitley paused, letting out a deep sigh and burying his head in his hands.

Whitley: I-I’m getting ahead of myself, let me…start at the beginning of this whole disaster. It all started after my grandfather Nicolas died-No, actually, it started long…long before that but it didn’t get bad enough to notice until he was gone.

Whitley regales his version of the family’s collapse, it’s very much the same sad tale Mary had told her under the guise of a tragic fairytale, though coming directly from the source made it feel more… raw.

Whitley: After my sisters were gone my father focused all his expectations on me. I didn’t want to be his puppet but I had no choice but to endure.

Penny: Endure? Does-does that mean he’s the one who….

Penny bites her lip, it quivers with a mix of sadness and rage. She can’t bring herself to say it, to acknowledge this…this savagery actually happened to someone she cared so much for! Sensing her distress Whitley doesn’t drag the point out and confirms.

Whitley: Yes, it’s his way of “disciplining” me.

Penny: B-but when?…w-why?

Whitley: It started right after Weiss left for Beacon. As for why, he does it whenever he thinks I’ve gotten out of line or as an outlet for his stress. Honestly, I can’t tell which is which anymore.

He says mournfully, looking down at the scars on his feet for a moment before turning his gaze back to Penny. Tears are pouring down her face, her breathing is shaky like she’s running out of breath and her fist is balled up tight around her blanket, grips so tight it threatened to burst the seams.

Penny: Why….

Her voice is trembling, and she grits her teeth for a moment before continuing.

Penny: Why did you put up this? Why didn’t you ask for help when we first met?! Why didn’t you tell me the first time you came to Mantle-why did you have to suffer like this?!!!

She questions, clearly not asking him but the world itself. She can’t understand how this could have happened right under her nose. She’d seen him hurt before, she was so close to the old wounds if she had just looked closer-

Penny: Why didn’t I see it? How could not have-I-I…I should be able to…I should’ve…

She sobs, feeling more defeated and helpless than she ever had before. This was more than failing as a protector but failing as a partner as a chosen significant other! This wasn’t something she was just made for, it was something she chose! Something she agreed to and put her whole heart into.

Penny: I’m sorry…I’m sorry.

She whimpers through tears, weeping from sheer vulnerability and grief. Whitley can only watch from the other side of the screen, feeling just as powerless and guilty. He knew telling Penny the truth would be agonizing for both of them but it was too late to turn back. There were things he needed to say, and he had to say them now.

Whitley: It’s not your fault, I did my best to hide from you at every turn.

Penny: But why?! Why did you do this?!

Whitley: Because I need time.

Penny: Time for what?!

Whitley: Time to get everything together, to make things right.

Penny: What?

She questions, tears of remorse turning to one's frustration as she gets confused by his words but Whitley is quick to clear things up.

Whitley: Penny, I didn’t endure all this just to survive. I did it to stay close to my father so I could learn his secrets.

Penny: Secrets?

Whitley: He’s done horrible things, Penny. Him and the wretches he brought with him when he took control of the SDC. Things that could ruin the reputations and lives of everyone involved, things people are willing to kill to keep secret. But because I played along, because I behaved, in a way that made him believe that I couldn’t raise a finger against him I got to see and know everything. Every dark secret, conspiracy, and crime I know it all. And I’ve been gathering evidence of everything, more so since Father first struck me.

He expounds, expression turning from sorrowful to stern and focused as he continues to clarify his intentions.

Whitley: I’ve put together profiles of my father’s wrongdoings so thick they could brick a wall.

Penny: That much? Then why didn’t you say anything?! Why keep this up when you have that kind of evidence?!

Whitley: Because if I act while he’s still in power everything will come crashing down with him. The SDC, our family name, everything! And I have been through too much and suffered too many atrocities to let that happen!

He growls, agitation pooling in his tone as his layers of deceit pull back to reveal his truest self.

Whitley: The Schnee Dust Company, my grandfather’s legacy, is all I have to my name and I’ll be damned if I just sit back and watch the bastard who swindled it away burns it to the ground! So I forged a plan, collect evidence, play the loyal dog to Father, gain trust with the one person I know will bring him to justice-

Penny: The General!

Whitley: Yes! And once he finally hands over the title of head I’ll turn everything on its head. I’m going to burn his world a-fucking-sunder! Take everything he stole from my family back with interest and see to it that he can’t hurt anyone ever again!

He roars, voice full of conviction and lust for justice so palpable burn in his gaze like light blue flames.

Whitley: And then…then I’ll be free, we’ll all be free. Mother, the staff, the old board members, the people under those hacks he keeps power, everyone! I’ll end this nightmare once and for all, no matter what it takes. Even if it means I have to do something drastic.

Penny: What do you mean by drastic?!

She questions. Whitley sighs deeply, this was the very last secret he had to keep, and the one he knew could change the way Penny looked at him forever. But he’s in too deep now, he had to let the other shoe drop.

Whitley: Penny, if it comes down to it I will kill my father, Jacques Gelè, myself.

Penny: …what?

Penny blinks, eyes glazed with shock.

This couldn’t be real, he didn’t really mean that did he? Whitley was far too kind to actually end a life but seeing his current condition and the burning hate in his, Penny can’t be sure of that anymore.

Whitley: I know it’s wrong, but I…hate this man with all my being. He has ruined my life and any chance I had of having a good childhood or family! So if it comes down to it, I will end him, and wouldn’t even be that hard. I have access to all his medication, his food, everything. All it would take is giving him the wrong dosage by “mistake” and walking away. Those office doors are so thick no one would hear his gasping and pleas, he’d die on his back like the animal he is.

He elucidates in a cold but calm manner as if he’s thought of doing so for years. And he had, often enough that it became a temptation. A way to end this hellish existence once and for all and in a way he could hurt the one who had so heartlessly tormented him back til his last gaping breath. But he never acted on it, the catharsis was not worth the risk. But still, hearing this Penny can’t help but feel beyond horrified, but not in the way one would think. Beyond the worry, fear, and anger was a sense of…belonging, of similarity, of understanding, and empathy.

Penny was born and made to protect the weak with power stronger than any human could naturally wield and a heart pure as snow. She had fought battles for humanity over and over again and she was faced with another protector. One with not even a tenth of the power she had, nor the support or love in his upbringing.

Yet he fought day after day for his cause. His purpose and desire to end the suffering of the many even at the cost of himself.

In this moment Penny sees Whitley clearly for the first time and she wants nothing more then to hold him. To praise him for his strength and hard work, to take all of those burdens off his shoulders, and let him breathe freely for once.

In this moment, Whitley was no fairytale prince in her eyes but a true prince of principle and protection, one people would read of in history books and admire. This was the real person she had fallen for and even with the cracks, the scars, and bruises, his brilliance had not been deemed to her. Rather just changed in atmosphere, it was harsher and the dirty blood stains and battle scars were no longer hidden from her view but the light he had was as still bright as ever before.

Penny: Oh, Whitley…my poor Whitley.

Whitley: I know this a lot but please…Penny, can you accept it? Not just my plan but…me? The liar, the scammer, the spy, the pawn…

He rubs his upper arm and grips it tight.

Whitley: The broken punching bag. Can you still say you love me…even knowing all this? That you’ll stay with me, even if I have to get blood on my hands.

Penny: Whitley.

Whitley: Please, I need to know. I need to hear it.

He pleads, begging for reassurance that his faith has not been misplaced. That just this once someone would love him for him no matter what.

Penny could do that, couldn’t she?

She’d always demonstrated her affection without fail and even now her love for him had not wavered for a single second. Surely, just saying those words that still ring true even after all their shared hardships wouldn’t be an issue?

But after hearing the full extent of Whitley’s suffering, Penny can feel the pit of despair pooling even bigger and bigger.

During the entire call, Whitley had been opening up his heart and pouring its contents at her feet. He’d let it all out, spared nothing from her, and yet she couldn’t find it in herself to do the same. She’d keep asking for clarity and muttering worried whispers while her own secrets were left unspoken.

And now he was asking if she could find in herself to love him despite his lies?!

It was like a bad comedy, irony far too cruel to be saved by any punchline! His lies, born of survival and compassion, were worth seeking redemption for keeping, and yet she…

Penny: Of course I still love you. I could stop even if I wanted to. Even if I didn’t deserve to.

Whitley: Really? You…you mean it?

Penny: Yes, of course I do! You know I can’t tell a lie. With words. I can still hide the truth, I can still keep things from you.

Whitley: Oh, thank god!

He lets out a big sigh of relief, the tension, and fears that she’d abandon him falling from his heart like a stone into the sea.

Whitley: Then you’ll keep this between us? Just until it’s time.

Penny: Yes, of course. Not like I have the right to talk about your secrets when I can’t even speak my own.

Whitley: Oh, thank you, thank you so much Penny. You don’t…you don’t know how much this means to me. I love you so much!

Penny: I love you too. Even if I can’t bring myself to be honest you-Damn it! Why can’t I say it?! Just say it! Say it! We can’t keep this in any longer!

With the reassurance he needed to be given heard Whitley tears up but this time with happiness. Penny tears up in turn but in hers are of frustration, she knows this is unfair and that being truly selfish by not speaking up and letting him have all this faith in her but she can’t help it.

Whitley needed her, he needs her more than and she couldn't destroy all the trust he had in her after everything they’d been through!

But the burning in her chest and stinking her stomach won’t stop. She can feel herself twisting on the inside from the stress but the pressure just isn’t enough to pull it out of her! The truth sitting and building up like bile that she stubbornly refuses to spit out!

Penny: I…I want…Come on, come on, say something!… I want to see you.

Whitley: I can’t really leave the manor like this-

Penny: No, I need to come see you. I need to check your wounds and make sure they’re clean and dressed properly…I need to hold you, I don’t care how I have to get there I just…need to. I need you.

She begs, tears streaming down her cheeks. Weak to her earnest tears Whitley concedes, thinking about the layout of the manor he knew if his help and proper instructions she easily sneak into the estate.

Whitley: Okay, but it’ll have to wait til morning. I don’t have the strength to draw up a proper map right now.

Penny: That’s okay, just get some rest for now. You need it.

Whitley: I know. Good night Penny, I love you.

Penny: Good night, Whitley.… I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m such a huge lair, I shouldn’t be-I’m so sorry… I love you too.

Whitley smiles softly and blows her a kiss goodnight, Penny pretends to catch it and blows one back before disconnecting the call. When the screen goes black Penny drops her scroll, drops her head onto a pillow, and screams.

It’s a blood-curdling scream, one that comes only from grief.

Penny: WHY DIDN’T I SAY ANYTHING?! WHY COULDN’T TELL HIM I AM NOT REAL, THAT I’M JUST AN ANDROID?! WHY CAN’T BE TRUTHFUL WHEN I NEED TO BE?!!! GOD WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?!! AHHHHH!

Penny screams to herself, disgusted and anguished by her inability to open up the most crucial of moments.

Penny: WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?! WHY DID IT HaVE TO BE LIKE THIS AT ALL?! WHY-

Penny’s mind festers on how this all started, with Whitley's bandaged appearance. With the abuse, he could no longer hide from her. The abuse from that self-serving sociopathic greed fuel bastard who had robbed his own son of so much joy Penny’s kindness seemed like a dream.

Penny: That monster, he did this! He hurt him, he hurt him so many times! And for what? Money? Power?! As if any of that is worth a family member’s life! A loved one’s life! Not that fucking beast can love anyone but himself!

Her disgust quickly redirects to Jacques and morphs into rage. It burns her deep inside that this horrific demon shaped like a person could do this to someone and the only way he could be stopped without creating a mountain of suffering in his wake is to allow this misery to continue!

She hated it.

She hated it, she hated it, she hated it, she hated it, she hated it, she hated it so fucking much it made her skin burn up with anger!

Despite Jacques being a defenseless man with no aura and no ability to defend himself, Penny couldn’t help but want to bring him down. By design, she wasn't supposed to hurt unarmed civilians with immediate and express reason to do so. The metal army that was destroyed in Beacon was hard programmed with this clause, Penny had a similar program though it was more just a reminder than an application that could control her actions. Once that soon blared in her head as her thoughts became darker and darker.

System Alert:

WARNING: LETHAL FORCE CAN NOT BE TAKEN AGAINST UNARMED CIVILIANS. REPEAT: LETHAL FORCE CAN NOT BE TAKEN AGAINST UNARMED CIVILIANS.

It blasted on repeat in her head, trying to distract her train of thought from the dark path it was going down.

System Alert:

LETHAL FORCE CAN NOT BE TAKEN AGAINST UNARMED CIVILIANS-

Penny: Shut the fuck up already. I don’t care.

Penny’s voice is cold as ice and the alarm in her head comes to an immediate stop at her declaration.

Penny: I want him dead, I want that fucker to die the most painful death possible!

She states with her whole heart, chest burning with pure anger. Never in her life had she felt this way, this absolute disdain for life and desire for it to end in the most gruesome ways she could imagine. Most of which would be by her own hands.

Had she been a less rational creature, Penny would have been headed straight to Atlas and wouldn’t return until she had Jacques’s head on pike. She could yank him from his warm bed, drag him through the streets, and put him down like a rabid mutt he is!

But she couldn’t do that, the consequences were too great for herself and for Whitley. This was his vengeance and his justice to win and she had no right to impede on it, especially if she couldn’t share the same level of honesty with the boy she called her beloved.

Still, she needed to vent. To get this feeling out of her chest because the pressure was building so fast and hot her resolve would last much longer!

Getting up and walking downstairs to the front door, Penny grabs her rocket boots. She leaves her swords behind and heads out the door, walking down the cool streets for a little while before turning on her boots and taking off.

Her distention? The tundra beyond the city walls.

Blowing past the breach and its guard station Penny continues to fly off into the distance until the city lights begin to look distant. Once at a safe range, she lands on the snowy grounds below takes a deep breath in with exhales a truly unholy scream.

Penny: AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

She screams with all her might, letting out every ounce of grief, anger, and despair she has in her being like a shockwave. It doesn’t take long for Penny to get results, the growls of Grimm soon following her scream, drawn in by her misery. Penny lets the first get close, really close, eyes locked onto its bleach-white skull face. She reels back as it attempts to strike and when it’s close enough Penny puts her fist through its head in with a single punch. Her gaze is unfocused, as if she’s looking past the creature as it dissolves into black smoke as more come charging in. Penny doesn’t flinch at this, instead she tears through the wave of beast bare-fisted with clouded eyes.

With each smash of bone and rip of flesh, Penny can't help but imagine a different smaller more mammalian skull cracking against her fists. And that the inky black dust spewing from its shards was a warm thick red, oozing from the much smaller sides and staining beautifully pressed white fabric.

Soon time later in Atlas, Winter is winding down for the evening when her scroll rings. Grumbling under her breath, Winter puts down her cup of tea and takes the call.

Winter: Hello?

Johnnie: G-good evening Lieutenant Schnee. T-t-this is Johnnie Zinc f-from the surveillance de-department.

Winter: What are you calling me for Johnnie?

Johnnie: Th-there’s a problem near the breach in soother bend of Mantle’s graurd wall .

Winter: The southern bend? Has the breach expanded?

Johnnie: W-well not really a problem with the wall. M-more of what just passed through.

Winter: Excuse me?

Johnnie: Penny Polendina just flew out past the wall and into the tundra. There was some……commission and now there are grimm barreling towards her location.

Winter: …What!

Johnnie: That would be a big enough problem on its own but that’s not why I called.

Winter: Then what is?!

Johnnie: Judging from the radar imaging the grimm are dropping just as fast as they appear.

Winter: …Pardon?

Johnnie: We really don’t know what’s going on out there but it is not good! No one on the ground right now is equipped to handle her so we had to call in you or the general and your number was faster to type in!

Johnnie squeaks, clearly frightened by this extremely abnormal event. Winter pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs before replying.

Winter: I’m coming down. Have a security detail meet me at the gate.

She orders before hanging up, a loud groan escaping her lungs as she gets up from her chair and marches right back over to her hanging work clothes. Her face scrunched in annoyance as she wondered what trouble Penny of all people could have conceivably caused.

Winter: This better be a real emergency or I swear!

She curses in her head, baffled but what someone so kind and caring was doing in the middle of snowy terrain in the dead of night.

Her confusion, however, doesn’t last longer than it takes for her and the security detail from the wall to drive out to the scene.

What they find is not a stampede of grimm surrounding their comrade but a snowy patch painted black from grimm dust, grimm fleeing from the area, and Penny standing in the center covered in grimm dust. There’s no way of telling how many she’s killed but it was enough that the other grimm knew instinctively to run far and fast away from her, something grimm really did when presented with lobe prey. This was a true massacre of monsters done with nothing but pure brutality at the hands of a teenage girl in a moss-green nightgown.

When the military van comes to a stop Winter jumps out. Guided by the headlights, her right hand on the hilt of her rapier she quietly walks over the blackened snow to engage with the eerily quiet android.

Winter: …Penny?

She calls out to her, there’s no sign of movement for a few seconds but eventually, Penny turns to face Winter. Her eyes are glowing but hollow, not dead or forlgnoed just empty. Her facial expression is equally blank. It’s almost like she’s frozen in her mind, unresponsive, until she finally speaks.

Penny: Hello…Winter Schnee.

Her voice is cold but not in an expected way. It’s not robotic but just void of any feeling. It would be a depressing tone if the tone had even a hint of sadness to it but there was nothing. And that emptiness made Winter nervous.

Winter: Penny Polendina, what are you doing out here?

She asks politely, unsure of what could happen if Penny was provoked.

Penny: Killing grimm.

She replied frankly.

Winter: In the middle of the night? Outside of the city?

Penny: Yes.

Winter: Why, exactly?

Penny: Because……

She doesn’t have an answer for that, not what she wanted to give at least, and especially not to Winter. Winter is perplexed by her non-answer but relieved that it’s a non-violent one, meaning she could proceed.

Winter: Well, they seem to have dispersed for now so you can leave.

She takes her hand off her weapon, calmly offering it to Penny.

Winter: I’ll give you a ride home, it’s much too late for a young girl like you to be out alone.

Her words spark a second of recollection from Penny, Whitley had said something similar to her once, and the overlap resonates with her enough that she manages to pull herself out of her spiral momentarily. With a quiet nod, she walks past Winter and to the military vehicle. Winter sighs, this time with relief, and follows. She’s still slightly annoyed at the whole situation, more so since the incident was coming to an end with no clear answers. Miffed, as the two soldiers are climbing into the cam Winter can’t help but comment on the whole mess as Penny is stepping in ahead of her.

Winter: This was absolutely ridiculous.

Penny pauses at her words, her hand gripping the side of the van tightly.

Winter: I understand upholding your role as a protector but this was too much. I mean I’m a bit of a workaholic but still, this was just-

Winter closes her mouth quickly when she notices that Penny has stopped directly in front of her and is glaring at her from over her shoulder. It’s a heated glare, one that screamed “Silence or I will crush you like a fucking bug” and Winter knew good and well Penny was more than capable of doing just that.

Penny: I…do not want to hear that from you right now. I do not want to hear your voice. So please, stop talking.

Penny states, voice still cold as the tundra itself with a slightly venomous undertone. She didn’t want to be lectured by someone who could disregard their own family member while protecting another the way Winter had. Just hearing her pompous and strict musings made Penny want to vomit.

The ride back into town is completely silent, no one knows what will set Penny off again so they keep quiet. This leaves Penny’s mind room to roam away from the rage and back to the guilt.

What was she thinking, throwing a tantrum like that? If even a single thing had gone wrong people’s lives could have been at risk! But Penny couldn’t see that, she couldn’t see anything past her rage, and even that was pointless. Recklessly slaughtering monsters wasn’t going to do anything to the real monster she wanted to kill. And it wasn’t going to heal Whitley’s wounds. And after all, was said and done it didn't soothe Penny’s aching heart one bit.

Penny: When did I become so selfish?

She thought bitterly. Once they drop her off at her front door Penny automatically turns the knob before remembering she left without her keys. However, the doors opens with little resistance.

That’s right, in her hast, she hadn’t thought to lock it.

Stepping inside Penny shuts and locks the door behind her before slumping to the floor, breaking down on the welcome mat. She didn’t want to believe this was real. That any of these was really happening.

But it was.

The person she had come to love was being abused horribly, she currently didn’t have the power to protect him without also harming him, and she didn’t even have to courage to be honest with him about her true origins even after he shared his.

She had become another betrayer to a person who had known far too many already. He even believed her to be his biggest support! His confidant, his beloved trustworthy Penny.

Chapter 13: Jazztassic Throwdown

The rest of that day seemed to go by so quickly after that. Ciel didn’t say much after she finally stopped crying, but they managed to finish the exam. They re-exchange contact information because Penny leaves. She had never known how Ciel reacted to her presumed death, not even an inkling until now. It was surreal watching the recognition, pain, and joy erupt from Ciel in succession like that. She had never been so emotional in front of Penny before but seeing it made her feel oddly happy but also guilty. All that time she had been carrying all that grief for absolutely no reason. Logical she knows this isn’t either of their faults, her survival was miraculous and unexpected! And it seems the ripper effect it caused was still making new waves or rather Penny was realizing there were more out there than she ever thought there could be.

She vents a very curated version of her woes to Whitley later that night. Explaining how Ciel used to look after her and thought her injury had been fatal only to now realize she was alive and well. How she had cried a lot when she realized Penny was okay and couldn’t stop for a long time.

Penny: I’ve never seen her like that before, it felt strange in a good way. Like seeing how sad she was made me realize how much she genuinely cared for and missed me.

She says with a conflicted smile. Whitley doesn’t respond immediately as if he needed a second to absorb the knowledge that someone could react this way was a little too foreign for him to understand. After too long of a pause Penny gets a little worried but just as she’s about to ask if he’s okay Whitley perks up again.

Whitley: Sorry got a little lost in thought. But it’s great that you two could reunite after all that… I’m glad you have someone looking out for you like that.

His voice is chipper but there’s a tinge of sadness underlying the tone. Penny does not like this, but she gets it, Whitley has no one to look after him or miss him the way Ciel did for Penny so hearing about this must be disheartening, not that he would tell her that. But before he can change the subject Penny pulls out the concert tickets.

Penny: I also got these!

She waves the tickets in the camera view. Earlier she had debated with herself on who to bring with her but at this moment there was no contest.

Was it primarily because she turned to putty whenever her boyfriend was even a little too sad for her liking? Yes, but that was the nature of the beast that is being a doting girlfriend.

Almost two weeks later Whitley had hit a lucky streak, Jacques would be away the night of the concert into the following morning, and quite a few staff members had taken the night off, so he’d have no trouble sneaking out. Cut to the Saturday of the show, Jacques has already left the building and Whitley is sitting at his desk blazing through a mountain of paperwork, a passionate glint in his eyes as he slashes through form after form.

Whitley: Just a few more...just a few more.

He chants in his head, trying to keep his spirits up as he closes in on the last of his work for the week! If he could get this done, then there’d be nothing stopping him from enjoying the night ahead! Even if his wrist begins to ache and his lower back goes numb from lack of motion he presses on.

Whitley: Just one more!

He chants inwardly as he feverishly looks over the last document in his pile and files it out.

Whitley: Done!

He slams the paper onto the pile and shoots up from his desk! Streaking out as his body readjusts out of its sitting position. There was still a lot of prep to do before he went out but the rush of finishing this avalanche of documents had given him a second wind.

Whitley: Let’s not waste any time.

He straightened up his stack of paperwork before stepping toward his bathroom. Couldn’t go out on an evening date without freshening up first.

Down in Mantle Penny is also getting ready for the concert. She had done some research beforehand and prepped quite a bit in the lid up to the night off. She’s stocked up on water, tissues, and hand sanitizer, had their ride to show figured out, and picked out an outfit fit for the weather and venue. Now the troublesome part was doing her hair and makeup.

You see, Team FNKI is a neo-jazz/swing band. Their music was very vibrant and poppy, just like the bandmate's aesthetics. Their stage setup was usually bright with neon lights, they wore dust-infused costumes and used their semblances during their solos in fantastical displays of rhythm and power. Thus, their fan base would come dressed in one or both sides of the band’s aesthetic. Some came in bright streetwear, some in classy jazz club attire, or a mix of both.

Penny didn’t have much that matched either comfortably, but after looking through some old and new clothes she managed to pull together something fitting. She found a pair of her old stockings with glowing green stripes, borrowed some glowing power button pins from her dad, and got some thick black satin ribbon to upstyle her chosen outfit. Turning the pins into earrings, helping her dad make a heart-shaped pin to add to the bow of her headband, and lacing the ribbon through the sleeves of her pink cardigan were great after-work crafts. It was so much fun doing metal working with her dad and calling Ciel for advice on the sleeves since hers were what inspired her.

All said and done her concert ensemble was perfect! For Penny's taste at least. But then there was the makeup. She’d asked around for some ideas, she’d actually had to beg Octavia not to send her a year’s worth of cosmetics and had figured out a pretty good image to go for.

After getting partially dressed before washing and towel drying her face, Penny grabs out her newly purchased cosmetics container. Her selection was vested or luxurious, the most expensive thing she had in there was a palette gifted by Octavia months ago, but it had all the essentials. Brushes, lipstick, gloss, eyeshadows, liners, blush and nail polish of various were all present in limited amounts. But that was fine, she had enough for her needs and whims.

Penny: Alright let's get started!

She chirps to herself, propping up a small mirror on her bedroom floor and sitting down with her makeup case. Gathering her materials and looking herself dead on in the mirror, Penny begins her private beauty session. Starting with the most detailed intense work, Penny applies some sparkle-filled black eyeshadow to both her eyelids but only three-quarters of them. Then she goes in with an equally shimmery blush pink to cover the rest. Next is lipstick, first a hot pink on the top lip and outlining the bottom lip then fill in the rest with a softer pink. Lastly, a touch of blush and it's done! It’s not professional but still bright and poppy like she wanted it.

But it’s not over yet! Now it’s hair time!

Getting her whole head an initial brush before sectioning off two long strands from right behind her ears, Penny swoops the hair to one side and ties the section into a side ponytail. Brushing it out again, she rolls the ponytail into a bun and then secures it with a rubber band and bobby pins. Once it’s in place she adds an assortment of hairpins she’d picked up while shopping for supplies. Or rather the contents of a box of hair accessories for little girls she saw in the shop window of a tween accessory shop on the way home.

Hey, who said robots were immune to impulse buying?

She puts a total of four pins in, a treble cleft, a blue flower, a white butterfly, and a smiling kitty.

But that wasn’t her only find at that techno-colored store. To top off her look Penny pulls out the finishing touch, neon glow-in-the-dark nail polish!

Using the two-coat method from the nail kit’s instruction packet Penny applies a nice layer of green polish, lets it dry, and then adds a coat of clear setting polish. When her nails are fully dried Penny jumps up off the floor and runs to turn off her bedroom lights. As the darkness engulfs the room her nails shine a bright neon green, eliciting a chorus of excited giggles from the enamored android. She flickers the lights on and off a few times before setting down and putting on the rest of her outfit practically shaking with excitement.

She’d be dressed to the nines before long, no doubt to the delight of her performing friends and her lovely date.

In fact, said date was getting ready himself, dawning a periwinkle plaid pair of slacks with a white long-sleeve dress shirt with the matching plaid vest and long black coat to make his tie and gloves. It’s a damper look and though his gray face mask breaks the aesthetic a little his fake horn-rimmed glasses and light blue cap more than make up for that. As he applies some lip balm and sprays a little cologne on his shirt Mary stands by his bedside in wait. Since Jacques was only going to be out for the night and the probability of him staying long enough to force his intended mark to allow him to stay the night out of hospitality up in the air Whitley needed a lookout.

Whitley: My scroll will be on vibrate, if Father calls you know what to do.

He remarks, putting the cologne bottle down and walking to the door.

Mary: Yes, Young Master.

That’s all that’s said between them before Whitley leaves, Mary does as she was told and holds onto Whitley’s usual scroll before leaving for the kitchen. The manor was abnormally quiet and empty, and she had been given free rein to get a little snack from the main house kitchen. By the time Whitley’s out of the manor Mary’s poured herself a glass of wine and made a mini charcuterie board, things are looking quite lovely but somewhere in the pit of her stomach Mary can feel a pip of dread forming. This night would not end so peacefully.

But this dread had not reached Whitley as he journeyed to their usual meeting spot. Throughout his cab and train ride, he can feel himself smiling behind his mask. He’d never been to a causal concert so this would be a special treat, made even sweeter by the fact that he’d be sharing it with Penny. Vacating the train car as the doors opened Whirlpool couldn’t wait to partake in the exciting night they had ahead of them.

Upon exiting the station, it doesn’t take Whitley more than five seconds to spot Penny waiting for him. The light glow of her accessories made her easy to spot.

Now to some, the first thing they would have noticed about her outfit was how the flow of her black skirt and the tightness of her glowing stockings contoured her legs perfectly and made the uncovered part of her thighs look ever the more supple. Others would have noted how her makeup paired with the LED light of her earrings made her face glow in this almost fantastical way. And a few immediately acknowledged the way her open cardigan hung on her frame made her look extremely huggable.

But being her detail-oriented boyfriend, Whitley Schnee notices all three almost completely at once and springs over to her.

Being used to the way they’ve grown to greet each other Penny embraces him with open arms. She lets him get in close and rests his head on her shoulder as they take each other in but pulls away only a few seconds later when she feels a peck against her neck right above her chocker.

Penny: Ah!

She yelps while pulling back, left hand clasping over the spot Whitley just kissed feeling the remnants of chapstick sticking to her skin. Her shocked gaze is met with Whitley’s teasing smirk as he stares proudly at the little mark he’s left on.

Penny: W-w-what was that for?!!!

She stutters, face flushed with surprise and cheeks puffed in annoyance.

Whitley: Nothing really, I saw something sweet and wanted a taste.

He teases, pinky finger still hooked onto the center of his mask leaving his charming smile in full view to her. He lends in close bringing his lips right over her left ear.

Whitley: You look incredible, twinkling like a little star in the night. Then again, when don’t you? You’re always so brilliant, too brilliant to ever miss.

He whispers, voice playful but earnest. Penny can feel her heart pounding and her head going fuzzy again. If she had any less self-control, she would have kissed the smug look right off his face for being so damn enchanting!

But she couldn’t.

Her lipstick wouldn’t be enough to cover up her taste.

Penny: You look good too.

She replies, her tone a bit dour compared to her earlier spunk and shock. Whitley notes the difference immediately and backs off, instead offering her his arm.

Whitley: Shall we?

He says with a soft smile, the gesture soothes Penny’s nerves, and she clings to him as they go hail a taxi. The ride to the venue is uneventful aside from Penny’s excited bouncing in her seat as they draw closer to the club. Whitley’s unsurprised by her giddiness, she’d been gushing about this group since she’d got the tickets, and from her word and his own personal research Whitley could understand why. The concept of huntsmen musicians using all their talents to put on an amazing show was interesting. Seeing people with physical capabilities and powers far beyond the average person could be a dazzling spectacle. And tonight, he’d get to enjoy that spectacle, maybe even find some inspiration.

Penny: We’re here!

Penny cries as the taxi comes to a stop in front of the night's venue, the Obsidian Inn one of Mantle’s best jazz clubs. The building is dark with illuminated windows, the architecture less modern and more stylish as the front appears covered with pillars with music notes covered into them. It’s almost hard to see as the building is already swamped with people both inside and out. Venders, other concert-goers, and passers-by leave the street clogged up to the point there’s barely a few inches of free space for people to move around each other. Settling up the driver and getting out of the cab, Penny and Whitley hold hands tightly as they try to weave their way through the crowd. But the closer they get the more Whirlpool can feel eyes staring at them, heads turning to guck as they pass, and some stopping in their tracks.

This was not good, so far Whitley had been able to fly under the radar whenever he was in Mantle but it seems that his luck had run out.

Whitley: Just great. This is what I get for dressing up while sneaking out. Damn it.

He curses to himself, shuffling a little faster to try and escape the crowd as soon as possible but he’s stopped by the tug of Penny’s hand on his. Looking behind him, he sees that she’s stopped or rather had been stopped by a girl holding her scroll out and asking for a picture. The girl was about their age and seemed to be awestruck by the huntress in front of her and looking around she wasn’t the only one. Those gazes Whitley had felt earlier were all pointed at Penny, the beloved local heroine Penny.

Now Whitley knew she was well-liked when she’d run into fans during their last two dates, but this was far more intense than either of those times. It seems the sight of the protector out in causal clothing held a central appeal with the public and made her easier to approach.

Whitley: Who would have thought she was this level of celebrity?

Whitley mused, looking on as part of the crowd diverted to swarm Penny for selfies. Said star quickly growing overwhelmed by the attention but far too flattered to turn them away, still, she couldn’t leave her date hanging. Pulling her hand away from his, Penny fishes out one of the tickets from her purse and holds it out to Whitley.

Penny: Go ahead and find our seats, I’ll join you when I’m done with…. all this.

She gestures to the mini crowd forming around her. Whitley nods, whispering a soft “Good luck” before taking his ticket and heading inside. The bounce at the door checks his ticket and lists out the club’s rules of no fighting, underage drinking, drug use, and so on before letting Whitley in. The interior of the club is just as cool and campy as the exterior, the floors are velvet, lights are low aside from the neon trim highlighting the stage and bar area. The seating areas are mostly booths lined against the wall and around the sunken dance floor in front of the stage, with signs set on top of the tables with numbers marking the seating. According to his ticket Whitley and Penny’s table was closest to the stage. Sitting down at the edge of the booth Whitley looks around and takes in his surroundings. It’s a nice club, very chic but casual the usual jazz club feel. As he glances around Whitley notices s familiar face among the sea of people making their way to their seats.

Jemma: Remind me again why the hell you dragged me out here?

Julia: Because I finally got time off and tickets to a good live show, and thought my baby sis could use a night off from studying herself to death.

Jemma: Well, you thought wrong.

Sue: Aw come on Jem Jam lighten up! It’s not every day you get to see a band live like this! Especially not one like FNKI!

Jemma: If you say so.

Yes, there were three familiar faces among the crowd, two of which were far more familiar than the third.

Whitley: Oh crap.

Whitley turns his gaze away and lowers his head, trying not to be noticed as the three women pass by. Unfortunately, Sue starts taking pictures of the club, flailing around to get good shot of the venue. Being over-excited, she accidentally loses her grip on the device, and it slips from her hands and onto the floor. Where it lands right next to Whitley’s feet. He reaches down to try to pick it up and hand it to her before she gets too close, but Sue swiftly dives down in scope up her beloved scroll and their hands touch.

Sue: I got it, I got it! My bad! Thanks, dud-

Sue pauses as she stares into the all-too-familiar pair of blue eyes, one belonging to the young master she served. Her gaze is frozen on him, but his eyes start to drift behind her. Not knowing what to do she follows his gaze and realizes he’s looking at her fluffy upright-in-stock with every strand of fur standing on end tail.

Sue: Oooh no, oh fuck! No!

Sue immediately breaks into a cold sweat as her shock quickly turns into panic at the realization that her job is in danger. Master Jacques was not a fan of fanus in the slightest and Whitley, kind as he was, was still his son. One word and her dreams would come crashing down around her and there was nothing she could do about it.

Tears form in the cracks of her eyes Sue opens her mouth to plead with him, but Whitley grips her hand and holds up a gloved finger to stop her. His eyes looked at her with an intense glint the likes of which she’d never seen before.

Whitley: Listen carefully because I’m not going to repeat myself.

He whispers, his voice is cold as frosting ice, tone sharp like a dagger.

Whitley: You didn’t see me here; I didn’t see you and this never happened. Understand?

He commands with no room for negotiation. Sue nods frantically in the affirmative, Whitley nods back and lets her hand go before shooing her away to which Sue scurries to her feet and runs over to her table, sitting in the seat that best blocks Jemma and Julia from seeing him.

Once he’s sure Sue’s gotten the message, Whitley sits back and relaxes a little. He moves to the more shaded side of the booth and takes off his coat before checking his scroll. There are no warnings or messages from Mary yet, so he just scrolls through his notes of leads and possible weaknesses in Jacques's corruption. The list predates the device it’s currently on and seems to grow every week. With the greedy tyrant’s hunger for power pointed elsewhere for the first time since he swindled his way into the Schnee family, Whitley had more opportunities to see the cracks from his position as the loyal dog.

Some of it was pretty tame but hard to unearth, other things were wretched that Whitley had a hard time stomaching the knowledge that it was happening.

Whitley: Disgusting.

He glares at his scroll, turning it off and setting it down a few inches away from him as if the knowledge contained in it made it too foul to be held anymore. Not more than a moment later Penny walks up with an apologetic look on her face as she approaches.

Penny: Sorry I took so long! I tried to be quick but more people wanted a picture with me than I thought.

She apologizes, and Whitley’s mood immediately perks back up.

Whitley: Don’t worry, it’s not your fault that the public adores you. And who can blame them? Having someone so formidable but adorable guarding your city would make anyone a little patriotic.

And just like he’s got her blushing again in about ten seconds, the soft glow of her flustered face lighting his stress by leaps and bounds.

Penny: Stop it, we’re a public venue! Other people might hear you.

She huffs before pulping down into the booth and sliding over to sit right next to him. Before Whitley can throw out a comeback the lights go out. the stage currents open but no lights come on, but the silhouette of four people with their instruments cut through the darkness. Suddenly the soft beat of drums and voices sweeps through the club from the stage sound system.

Flynt: Evening, everybody. It’s been a while.

The crowd cheers loudly as Flynt speaks to them, leaning against the wall from stage left while holding his horn.

Flynt: I know you missed us, but me and my crew’ve been busy. World’s been a mess and we’ve been out in the streets fighting the good fight for this little glimmer stone on the continental popsicle we call home!

The crowd cheers grow louder, some howler out “Whoa! MANTLE!” as Flynt continues.

Flynt: But tonight, we gonna forget all that. Tonight, we jammin. Tonight! We bring the house down!

With that spotlights cut on, revealing all of team FNKI dressed to the nines and already jamming out the intro to one of their more famous songs. Flynt saunters away from the sideline snapping to the beat and right on cue he hits his part and activates his killer quartet amplifying the sound with gusts from the trumpets.

The party’s truly on as the band plays in perfect harmony and swing. The set is electrifying with every song performed being full of passion and energy. At a certain point, there’s a bit of a switch-up to who’s leading the charge as five songs in Ivori’s bass seem to take over the melody for the sixth. The song is exquisite, matching his velvety aura as the notes seem to bounce off walls into a revolving melody that makes perfect use of the acoustics. This pattern of playing hard together then letting one bandmate take the spotlight persists throughout the show. Kobalt’s drum solo is a heavy hit combo, Flynt's use of his copies layers his sound beautifully and wraps the whole club in his tunes.

And then there’s Neon.

Neon Katt was dressed a bit differently from her friends. Fishnet gloves, a white rainbow heart patterned tube top dress with a ruffled skirt at the bottom with black shirts underneath, one fishnet stocking, one bunched up neon blue sock, glow stick ringlets on every limb, and her trademark skates were parred for the course with her but seemed too causal for what she was doing. Until the last song fades out and instead of starting in with another FNKI goes silent and Neon rolls out from behind her DJ booth, dawning a headset as she skates her way to center stage.

Under the spotlight, Neon turns away from the audience and then puts one hand on her hips and the other in the air. She puts down a finger and the crowd shouts out.

Audience: 5!

She puts down another.

Audience: 4!

And another.

Audience: 3!

It keeps going until-

Audience: 2…… 1!

When the crowd cries one the DJ booth roars to life with sound and Neon backflips off the stage onto the dance floor! When her wheels hit the ground rolls into a round around the dance floor until she gets to the center-right as the interlude stops and her first verse starts as her bandmates come in on the track.

Neon: We’re all born, with a dream, we wanna make, come true-oh! ~

She sings, tail bouncing to the beat as she starts to dance.

Neon: The best will climb to the top like me, the rest will end up like you! ~

She winks and throws a peace sign to the crowd as on the note for “you!” the song, “Neon Rainbow” is super hit pitch and poppy, matching Neon to a t! It’s clear this is her song, from her singing to the dancing and her overly stage presence, this was her very own personal anthem! This only solidifies when during the lines, “I’m cool like the rain and I’m hot like the sun!” where she pulls off two of the glow stick accessories and ignites them, revealing the accessories to be small dust canisters, ice, and fire respectively which she twists around for the rest of the chorus. Then she throws them into the air only to catch them with her tail as she starts to roll up to the isles. She skates up, down, and around the closest rows of tables, bringing the performance straight to the audience much to the fans’ delight.

Right in the third verse, Neon replaces a line with a call for a call and response!

Neon: Come on sing it with me now~

Her fans comply and come in with the next lyric.

Audience: Just think of happy things, you’ll see in no time! ~

Neon: Fun every day! ~

Audience: The clouds roll away! ~

Neon: Try it you’ll see! ~

Audience: Just be more me! ~

Neon: Woah!

At that moment Neon activates her semblance and glides back to the dance floor as the techno instrument plays. She zips around the floor in the haze of her rainbow, building momentum until she can’t even be seen beyond the mass of color. Until she jumps up into the air with a flip, when she lands it’s time for the last chorus!

Neon: Listen, girlfriend, can’t you see~ I’m all of the things, that you’ll never be! ~

Sticks come back for cool like the rain and hot like the sun and stay for the last line-

Neon: I’m a neon rainbow! ~ You’re no fun! ~

The instrument comes back for the last time and Neon dances it out til the end. By the end, she’s fabulously sweaty under the spotlight as the crowd goes wild. Looking over to the front row she spots Penny cheering her heart out absolutely overwhelmed by the spectacular performance! Neon puffs up her chest and with a mischievous glint in her she rolls straight up to her.

Penny: Huh?

Penny looks at her bewildered but doesn’t get a chance to ask any questions as the music picks back up. This distracts her long enough for Neon to take advantage and pull her up from her seat and onto the dance floor!

Neon: Time to boogie! Everybody, get on this dance floor!

The audience goes nuts and people start pouring onto the dance floor, leaving Penny and Neon to get swept up in the fray! Whitley immediately goes after them, catching the rhythm of the music and dancing his way through the sea of people. It’s a little tricky at first, he’s not used to dancing so close to people at such a high tempo but once he gets the rhythm down Whitley weaves his way through to the back where he finds Penny being twirled around by Neon. The two redheads are engaged in a very one-sided swing dance when Penny catches sight of Whitley. Her smile of relief draws Neon’s attention, and in an act of complete spontaneity spins Penny around fast then launches her in Whitley's direction!

By some miracle of quick reflexes and muscle memory Whitley manages to take hold of Penny’s hand before the spinning knocks her off balance and swings her into a dip. Her momentum coming in was pretty high, so he had to pull her lower than he ever had but they pulled it off without her falling. For a moment they lock gazes, Penny’s eyes twinkling with amazement and excitement. In a bid of playfulness, Whitley pulls her back, presses their bodies together shoulder to shoulder, chest to chest, and faces less than an inch away from each other.

Whitley: Shall we?

He says with a wink, Penny pauses for a second and gives an enthusiastic nod in agreement. It’s a far cry from the last time they danced together, much more casual, with spins, dips, and sways being more frequent to match the fast pace of the best. Their steps are lighter, and though they may not be as skilled as the more experienced fans they have a blast, nonetheless. They end up dancing for most of the night, only stopping when the heat of the dance floor gets too stuffy. Once they retreat back to their booth Whitley offers to get them some drinks to help them cool off.

Whitley: Got any preferences? Water, juice, soda?

Penny: Oh! Cam you see if they have root beer!

Whitley blinks at the odd suggestion but nods in agreement before sauntering off to the bar. While he’s gone, Penny checks herself in a small compact mirror she’s put in her purse. All that dance right up against him and the rest of the people on the dance floor meant sweat was flying all over the place. Luckily, it’s not too bad no stains on her clothes from bumping into people, and her makeup was as pretty as when she applied it. Putting away her compact Penny looked up at the stage happily, there was something so magical about seeing her friends in their element outside of hunting Grimm. They looked so…different but in a good way, more carefree if that was even possible.

While she gazed, Neon made eye contact and shot her cheeky “we’re sooo talking about this later” wink. Penny tenses and looks away, unnerved by what the brash car girl might have planned for her later.

At the bar, Whitley places his order, asking for Penny’s root beer first only to be told by the bartender that they don’t really sell it with their other soft drinks.

Whitley: What do you mind you don’t serve it?

Bartender: It means we don’t serve it.

Whitley: Then why do you have it?

Bartender: Look it’s not that we don’t, the brand we got just ain’t the kind you serve straight.

Whitley: Well, how do you serve it then?

The bartender picks up a pint and pulls out a tub of vanilla ice cream from the mini-fridge next to the ice maker. He grabs a scoop and fills the pint halfway with ice cream, pulls out the nozzle for the keg of root beer, and fills up the rest of the glass. Give it a good stir with a metal straw then gives it a whippet of whipped cream before stabbing a milkshake straw through it, even throwing in a tiny cherry on top before pushing it toward a stunned Whitley. A root beer float, an old-fashioned drink that was synonymous with youthful fun and hijinx. It was a drink for teens, something sweet to wash away the bitterness of a hard day learning in school, or a celebratory treat after a successful night mischief.

How perfectly on theme.

Whitley eyes the glass pint with an amused smirk then asks the bartender one last question.

Whitley: Is this all you have or are there other flavors?

After fifteen or so minutes Whitley returns with two ice cream floats, root beer for Penny, and orange cream for himself. He sets them down and scoots back into the booth with Penny who’s staring at the drinks with mouth-watering delight.

This was unreal! Penny had always wanted to try having root beer this was ever since Dad gave her a sip from his can while she was still getting used to her new senses. The illustration of it on that soda can was burned into her memory as another small want in her well of wishes. And now it was right in front of her!

Penny: How did you…

Whitley: Luck of the draw, it’s the only way they serve old fashion soda here, and I had a feeling you’d like it.

Penny squeals, she grasps the glass pint with both hands and looks at the drink with a beaming smile.

Penny: Thank you! I can’t wait taste it!

She squeals with glee before taking a big sip. It's cold, creamy and so sweet! The rougher taste of the root beer gives the overly sugary drink a real punch! Whitley watches her enjoy her beverage for a while before taking a sip of his own. It’s so citrusy and sugary wit a creamy texture that made it easier suck down. It was far more surgery than anything he’d ever tasted before, to the point his teeth itch a little.

The calorie intake on this alone would blow his diet straight to hell! Which is why it tastes all the more sweeter to Whitley as he keeps sipping. After all, this was a night of freedom and rebellion with his lady love, so all the rules be damned, diet included!

They spend the rest of the concert sipping their drinks and enjoying the music. It’s past midnight when the sect finally raps up with a bang of protectants, illuminating the stage in rainbow-coated bang!

Flynt: That’s all y’all, we out!

Neon: Love you peeps!

Kobalt: Keep it real!

Ivori: We’ll be back soon so look out for us on the scene!

Flynt: Good night, everybody!

The audience gives a final rearing cheer as Team FNKI has their current call and leaves the stage. Much of the crowd starts to leave while others stay as the club starts playing their usual selection. Penny and Whitley are about to make their exit when Neon glides in.

Neon: Heyyo Penny Pop! You enjoy the show!

She beams at them, standing right in the middle of their path and blocking the easiest route out.

Penny: Hello Neon. Yes, we really enjoyed the show. You and the rest of Team FNKI were amazing!

Neon: Aw, thanks, girl! Glad you had fun. But uh, I got say you really surprised me. Didn’t think you had it in you to pull something like this!

Penny: Huh? What are you talking about?

Penny cocks her head; she’s got no clue what Neon’s talking about. But it becomes clear when the cat girl rolls over to Whitley’s side and grabs onto his shoulders.

Neon: Nothing just that, You Brought A Date Without Telling Me!

The redhead faunus clasps Whitley’s masked face and smushes his cheeks.

Neon: I mean look at him! So classy, tall, and even smells good! Even with his face is all covered up, you can still tell he’s a total hottie!

Penny: Neon!

Penny protests, not that Neon was saying anything untrue but it’s completely inappropriate for her coworker to be talking about her boyfriend like that!

Neon: What? It’s true! Look at those strong shoulders.

Penny: Regardless! You shouldn’t say things like that about someone else’s boyfriend!

The moment the words leave her mouth Penny throws her hands over her mouth as she realizes what she’s just done. Neon looks at her dumbstruck then at Whitley then back a Penny before repeating her last word.

Neon: Boyfriend? He’s your-You have a boyfriend?!

Neon points out, looking totally mystified while Penny begins to fidget as she struggles to find a way out of this.

Penny: That’s-I-It’s not…..

Penny can’t find the right words to say, she couldn’t deny it outright because of her tell and she couldn’t deny it non-verbally because she’d already confirmed it with her first statement. Whitley’s about to cut into the conflict but Neon lets him go and turns tail toward the way she came.

Neon: I gotta tell the guys, they’re gonna flip!

She exclaims before dashing off to a backstage door. Fearing their secret is about to be exposed, Whitley and Penny quickly get their things together and chase after her. They rush the door behind her only to find she’s already caught up with her teammates and is about to spread the news!

Neon: Guys, you are not gonna believe this, Penny has a-

Penny: Neon Katt!!!

Penny shouts, interpreting the playful party girl just in time. She and Whitley stand opposite the rest of Team FNKI while Neon stands in the middle, an incoming confrontation looming over them as young lovers try to smooth the situation over.

Penny: Neon, I need you to not do what you’re about to do.

Neon: Why not? It’s good news!

Penny: Please! The situation is very, very complicated, and I rather keep it private! Please just don’t-

Neon: Don’’t what?! What’s so complicated about you having a boyfriend?

And just like that the cat’s out of the bag straight from another cat’s mouth. Penny visibly deflates while Whitley facepalms, all that planning, secrecy, and effort down the drain in one night because of a nosy friend. Said friend seems completely unaware of what she’s just done while her teammates gaze at the pair in stunned shock as they take in the news.

Kobalt: Get out! Are you serious?!

Ivori: No, freaking, way! I knew something was going on, you had a happy little glow to you but for the life of me I could not place it. Now I see where it was coming from!

The two men gush, absolutely endeared to their younger co-worker's budding relationship. Except for Flynt, who looks down at the couple from his shade with a usually harsh look of suspicion while the rest of his team continues their fawning.

Neon: Right? Now all those weird texts make sense. You were fishing for dating advice, weren’t you?

Kobalt: What text? What are you talking about-

Ivori: -O. M. Double G, No! That would mean-you two have been together for that long?! Really?!

Neon looks at Ivori with a raised eyebrow until her mind backtracks enough to realize that what she’d just discovered was not a new thing. The gears in her head were practical steaming for all to see as the cat girl looked down at her hands and counted with her fingers, double-checking a few times to make sure she got it right.

Neon: That was almost like three months ago!

Kobalt: Seriously? Penny had a boyfriend for three months and nobody knew. No way?!

Ivori: This is just too cute, I gotta know how this went down.

The three, now brimming with curiosity, come together and bombarded the couple with a rapid fire of questions, mostly directed at Penny. Said girl doesn’t know how to handle the mess of prying queries but amidst the chaos, Flynt strides around his crew and squares up with Whitley. Standing right in front of him a looking down at him with shade-covered eyes.

Flynt: So, you’re Penny’s boyfriend huh?

Flynt asks, his usual playful mannerisms coming off more threatening tone then mildly smug. Whitley just nods yes in response, not speaking as he can tell just hearing his voice might set Flynt off.

Why?

Because Whitley knew good and well this man had an issue with him. More accurately he had issues with his father, Jacques.

Flynt immediately proves his point as his suspicious stare twists into a hateful glare.

Flynt: I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. How ‘bout you open your mouth and speak up-

All of a sudden, he reaches down and rips the mask right off of Whitley’s face!

Flynt: -Whitley Schnee!

Flynt’s voice drips with venom, the others look on in horror as he grabs the teen by his collar and gets in his face. The shock only lasts a second before Neon and Kobalt rush to pull him off, screaming at him to knock it off and unhand the kid while trying to pull back. But Flynt stands strong, anger keeping him firmly planted in place like a still burning hot lava stone as he breaks into a tirade.

Flynt: You got a whole lot of nerve waltzing into my show, in my city with one of my friends Schnee! Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize your sorry ass or were you trying to piss me off?!

He smears, Neon, and Kobalt are still trying to get him to stop but there’s no getting through to him.

Kobalt: Dude, stop! This ain’t the time or the place!

Neon: What the hell, Flynt! What’s gotten into you?! Knock it off!

Flynt: BOTH OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!

The shout stops both of them in their tracks.

Flynt: This got nothing to do with you so back the fuck up!

Neither seemed to know what to do, they’d never seen him rage like this before. Flynt is about to go off again but a stinging pain in his arm stops him. Looking down at his arm Flynt catches sight of Penny’s hand gripping his forearm. Looking over at her, Penny’s gaze is sharp and pointed, a stare usually reserved for grimm and the worst of criminals.

Penny: Flynt Coal, release Whitley immediately, or I will make you release him.

She commands, pressing her thumb into his wrist hard, a silent threat to obey or risk losing the limb. Flynt relents and lets go, rubbing his wrist with his unharmed hand to soothe it. Penny’s gaze doesn’t waiver though, it stays firmly locked in Flynt.

Penny: Now, explain to me why you just assaulted a civilian!

She orders, anger ripe in her voice. Flynt grits his teeth at her demand and Penny continues to glare at him in wait for her answer. The atmosphere is unbearably tense as the two usually calm huntsmen stare daggers at each other when Whitley finally speaks up.

Whitley: It’s nothing personal to me, just family ties. My father screwed over his, devastated the poor man’s long-standing dust business to make way for his monopoly.

This exclamation pulls everyone’s attention to Whitley, Flynt stammering a little at his honesty as Whitley continues.

Whitley: It’s a shame really, how big corporations bulldoze over locate businesses. Especially when it’s spearheaded by a megalomaniac with a moral code lower than most casinos.

He tilts his glasses, swagger just as prim and proper as always, as he looks Flynt directly in the eyes.

Whitley: Really, who could blame the family, in this case, the son, of one of those poor unfortunate souls for getting a little volatile when confronted with the spawn of the person he hates most? And at his own concert no less! Honestly, anyone would have lost their cool over this. Isn’t that, Flynt Coal?

He extends a hand to him, face fixed into his usual business smile. The message he was sending Flynt was clear, he had no ill will toward him in regard to their fathers’ conflict. He wasn’t here for anything more than a date with his girlfriend and any external conflict was just a coincidence. It reminded Flynt of how he came at Weiss but instead of dancing around it in a fight like she had, Whitley was upfront. No dental or pretense, just straight facts. He knew the score, knew what his family name had become, and wasn’t gonna pretend they had any leg to stand when it came to morality.

That’s gutsy, Flynt could respect that.

He grips Whitley’s hand and gives it a firm shake.

Flynt: Yeah, my bad.

He relents, the atmosphere calms as the two come to a silent trust.

Ivori: Okay! Now that that’s settled-

Ivori finally steps up, striding up from the shadows and grabbing everyone’s attention. He plants himself strategically between Whitley, Flynt, and Penny, making the two lovers back up to one side and the band to the other as he prattles on.

Ivori: -Why don’t you two tell us your story?

He gestures to Penny and Whitley.

Ivori: We’d love to hear how this all came about.

He inquiries, voice soft and soothing as the texture of his last name's sake. The couple exchange glances, Penny looks anxious, so Whitley gets in close and whispers to her.

Whitley: Do you trust them?

He asks, Penny pauses to think for a moment. Flynt, Neon, Ivori, and Kobalt had always been friendly to her and never let her down be it as friends or on missions. Neon, despite being the cause of this, had been her closest confidant when her crush had started and had been there when her heart was shattered. All that said this was still a very sensitive situation, one that could ruin them all if it got out. She looks over to Whitley and then at her comrades.

Penny: Flynt Coal, Neon Katt, Ivori Lace and Kobalt Co.

She addresses all of them with a firm tone and all four freeze, shocked as Penny had never called them out at once before.

Penny: What I am about to tell you is very personal information. Information that could be a detriment to the safety of myself, Whitley, and any other parties involved if not handled carefully.

She takes Whitley’s hand in hers and clasps it protectively.

Penny: I need to know none of you will ever let this leak, that this information will stay between the four of you and no one else.

Her voice is tense but unyielding, and the carefree bunch knows she's being painfully serious. The team look amongst each other and nod in the affirmative. There is an unusual air of seriousness around the group as they recognize the gravity of their circumstances, and return Penny’s determined gaze with equal resolve.

Flynt: We won’t tell a soul, I promise you.

Flynt responds with utmost sincerity eliciting a respectful nod from the female android. With one last glance to Whitley, who gives her a reassuring nod, Penny takes a deep breath before proceeding.

Penny: Okay, we’ll tell you.

Penny and Whitley take their time explaining how they met, fell in love, and began their secret relationship. It’s quite the story, a tale all four huntsmen become completely enthralled in, as they learn of the many trials, twists, and turns the couple faced in their quest of love. By the end, Flynt looks absolutely ashamed of himself, Neon is starting to whimper through tears, Ivori is dabbing at his misty eyes with a handkerchief, mascara tear stains ruining his foundation be damned, and Kobalt is facing away from everyone with his head pressed against the wall so no one can see him sobbing into his arm.

Whitley: We hope you understand why we had to be so careful.

Penny: We just wanted to be together, despite the risk. I know it sounds foolish and selfish but when I hear he snuck out all the way to Mantle to just to find me, I.. I just couldn’t hide my feelings anymore; I couldn’t turn him away.

Penny muses while staring lovingly at Whitley, who in turn cups her cheeks and gazes at her with the same admiration.

Whitley: And I couldn’t spend any day without you, the loneliness would have killed me.

Penny: No, it wouldn’t have.

Whitley: Yes, but honesty is a life without love even worth living?

He jests and she laughs, their usual brand of sarcasm and honesty bouncing off each other in perfect harmony. But the loving atmosphere is soon broken by Flynt.

Flynt: Alright! I think we get the gist of it! You two fell in love, but his daddy wasn’t about to let that happen, so you started sneaking around behind his back! That about it?!

He declares in a slightly flustered tone, his earlier ire replaced with awkwardness. He obviously feels terrible for the way he acted and is floundering to backtrack his attitude. Luckily Neon cuts in before he can spiral any worse.

Neon: That was the sweetest, saddest, most heartbreaking thing I ever heard! I can’t believe you hid your epic love story from me!

She whines, her tears bouncing with every word before her face settles into a pout.

Penny: Sorry, but you have a tendency to gossip, and I couldn't risk this becoming known.

Neon: I can keep a secret!

Penny: Would you have if I told you from the start?

Neon: Uh, well uhh…probably not.

Penny: And that’s why I didn’t tell you.

Neon: But still! If you’d told what the deal was from the start I could have-

The hum of loud vibration breaks the conversation, its Whitley’s scroll going off.

Whitley: Excuse me.

He steps away and pulls out the device to check his messages. It’s from Mary, apparently, Jacques had called for a driver, the unlucky duck being poor Godfrey, to come to get him early.

Mary: [I was roaming the halls and could hear him shouting on the line at Godfrey. Poor man looked like he was going to cry.]

She texted, Whitley grimaces as he reads the text then sighs, turning back to the group with a disgruntled look on his face.

Whitley: Apologizes but it looks like my night on the town is over.

Penny: What?!

She asks a little shaken with worry, this was the first Whitley had ever had to leave a date early. Whitley pats her shoulder softly before reaching down to pick up his discarded mask as he explains.

Whitley: Father’s coming home and in likely foul mood. I need to get back before him to batten down the hatches for the incoming tantrum.

He states, dusting off mask before dawning it again. Penny wants to protest but backdowns before uttering a word. This was the deal they made, the only way they could be together, she couldn’t act spoiled when things didn’t go her way. Knowing how much this must disappoint her Whitley pulls down his mask and gives Penny a soft kiss on the forehead.

Whitley: Sorry, Penny. I can make it back on my own you enjoy the rest of the night with your friends. I’ll call you when I get back.

Penny: No, I’d rather go with you to the station.

Whitley: You sure?

Penny: Yeah, this was fun, but I don’t want to stay without you. Besides I promised to be there whenever you come to and from Atlas.

Whitley: But it’s late.

Penny: Yes, and my promise did not come with time restrictions.

Whitley: Oh you!

He squished her cheeks, gods she just couldn’t help being so adorably earnest, could she? While the two lovebirds fawn at each other and attempt to figure out their transportation plan Flynt steps in to offer a helping hand.

Flynt: ‘Ey if you need a lift home, we can help you with that.

He stated, wrapping an arm around Kobalt’s shoulder and pulling him forward.

Flynt: Koco’s a damn good getaway driver with a mean set of wheels. He can get you up top in a hot minute. Right Koco?

Kobalt: Yeah! Just gimme an address and I’ll get you there no problem!

He exclaims chest puffed up with pride. Penny and Whitley share questioning glances, it would be easier to get a direct ride home for both and cut their commute time down considerably. It was a genuine kind offer so what would be the harm in taking it?

In the alley behind the jazz club, Kobalt walks the pair to a large van. The vehicle has a heavy coat of black paint decorated with blue hot rod flames and neon strip lights. It was clearly meant to be a cargo vehicle but had clearly been modded for speed in the most brazen ways possible. As if its owner had tried to convert it into a race car but couldn't find its humble origin.

Kobalt: Alright kiddies meet your lift for the night. This is my ride, my baby Blue Blaze!

Kobalt beams, proud to show off his beloved car. Meanwhile, the young couple have some reservations about this mode of transport.

Whitley: …. Wow.

Kobalt: I know right? Ain’t she a beauty?!

Penny: Isn’t this a standard-issue all-terrain delivery van?

Kobalt: Yeah! My old man knows a guy who runs a shipping yard, sold me one of his old vans for cheap.

Whitley: Is it even street-legal?

Kobalt: Of course! She’s old but still runs like a dream!

Whitley: Is it insured?

Kobalt: Well, yeah……mostly, for like most stuff. Come on! Don’t you have somewhere to be?

Whitley pauses, contemplating whether or not this is a really good idea, but time is of the essence, so he relents. They get in, Whitley and Penny in the back and Kobalt in the driver seat, everyone buckles u, Whitley gives him the address and they take off into the night. The drive is actually quite smooth as Kobalt takes his own route through Mantle’s streets, navigating like only a true city native can. Everything is fine and dandy until it’s time to go up.

Now most far-traveling vehicles that went to and from Atlas to Mantle and into the tundra had to be built with three modes to be driven. First was standard street mode, second was heavy terrain for trekking on the ice of the snow climate, and lastly, to reach Atlas was flight mode. Every road vehicle that traveled between the cities had a street and flight mode. Blue Blaze was no different.

As they’re driving Kobalt turns into a take-off road, a road that was little more than a public runaway for flying vehicles. Cars are spaced further apart than on other roads to accommodate flight gear, needed momentum, and clear passage. There was no turning or passing in the lanes only moving forward and into the sky. Once on the road, Kobalt engages the flight mode, and the van shifts, the windows and doors tighten shut, and the wings and thrusters emerge from their place in the thick undercarriage. Kobalt speeds up, going with the flow of traffic, a fiat that necessitated Atlas and Mantle driver’s licenses class B and above to have the hardest driver’s proficiency test of all four kingdoms. The van shifts and hops as it starts to gain some air.

Whitley, having never flown in such a small craft, starts to get nervous. His stomach drops as he second guesses if this damn thing can even make it off the ground! Penny, seeing his uneasiness, reaches out and holds his hand, clasping it gently and giving him as sweet smile when he looks up once he feels her touch. This distracts him as take off is emanate.

Kobalt: Hold on tight! We’re going up!!!

Kobalt howlers, the moment he feels that all the wheels are on the ground he guns the thrusters and they take off from the runway road into the sky!

Whitley grabs onto Penny tight as he feels the break of the sound barrier closer than ever before! His body pushed back into the seat from the force of the lift-off makes him flinch and close his eyes tight!

He doesn’t open them again until the ride smooths out. When they hit a coursing altitude and the turbulence has calmed down Whitley takes a peek and finds Penny still holding his hand calmly. She was completely unbothered by the lightness under their feet and the hum of air rushing around the outside of the van. Looking past her and out the window Whitley sees something incredible.

From the angle they were ascending, he could see the city Mantle below, parts of the underside of Altas, the tundra around both, and the starry sky. It was an alien experience, seeing the place he’d lived in all his life from this point of view. He could see some of the inner workings of the structures that were usually unseen in the higher metropolis and the totality of the lower city. All the lights, towers, and buildings of the grounded city and the maze-like layout of its streets. And the mountains, being above one would never know just how enormous and intimidating they really were. But here as they go up Whitley can see just how massive the tundra surrounding the territory was as even the smaller of them were as tall as Mantle’s highest building and the largest could easily press at the bottom of Atlas if not pierce through it. The darkness of the night sky only heightens the depth of the world around him, stars twinkling in the distance further than anyone could ever reach.

For a moment Whitley truly understands how small he is compared to the grandness of the frozen kingdom and how little he has really seen of any part of the world he was born in, even in his own birthplace.

The majesty of it has him so encapsulated Whitley continues to stare out the window until it’s time for the landing.

The jolt of the van bucking back onto solid ground breaks him from his trance, his grip on Penny’s hand tightening as he jolts back back to reality from the shift in gravity. Penny doesn’t mind it and holds onto him as the van zips onto Atlas’s streets. The van weaves and rolls through back streets and shortcuts Whitley had never been down before, Kobalt commanding the vehicle with surprising expertise. It was oddly thrilling, like being in a scene out of a coming-of-age movie.

A getaway driver is making great time to get the male lead home after a night of mischief, the female lead coming along out of gentle concern and sweet stubbornness. The outlandishness of it all was enough to make Whitley grin!

Had he ever had this much fun in one night before?

Whitley: Is this what they call the thrill of youth? I could get used to it.

He muses, his nerves fully relaxed as they continue on towards the manor. When they’re just about forty yards from the monument estate Whitley gets up from his seat and taps Kobalt’s shoulder.

Whitley: Pull over here, I’ll walk the rest of the way.

Kobalt nods and parks the van. When the vehicle comes to a complete stop Whitley unbuckles his seatbelt, rushing to get out. But turns around before his feet can touch the ground and plants a quick kiss on Penny’s cheek.

Whitley: I’ll call you tomorrow, Good night my sweet.

He whispers, playfully winking before hopping out of the van and making a dash for the manor. Penny closes the van door behind him and watches him from the window. Instead of walking through the front door Whitley seemingly disappears into the estate after running out of her field of view.

Confused at where he’s gone, Penny texts Whitley to see if he’s made it in alright and replies yes. She asks how and he replays cheekily with-

Whitley: [That’s my little secret. At least, for now]

Penny giggles at the message and writes back a good night before giving the all-clear to head back.

She can’t help but smile, this night had been amazing in so many ways. Even though their relationship was discovered the news was received positively by most. Sure there were some bumps here and there and some loose ends to tie up with her friends, Neon was definitely going to bug her about this for the next week at the least, but overall this had been the best outcome.

So on their way back into the city and Penny spots a familiar white limousine, she doesn’t feel the nervousness she normally would.

A bastard businessman would be coming home to a perfectly quiet house, his heir “sleeping” peacefully in his bed just as he had expected.

The perfect crime without a trace of evidence.

Chapter 12: Cybernetic Checkup

The ivory halls of The Titan Learning Institute are bustling with activity as the first lunch break is called. Students dressed in fine black and white plaid uniforms wonder about the cafeteria and courtyard during their break time. Under a particularly shady tree, a pair of unlikely friends sat together on a bench. They were staring into the viewfinder of a scroll, shifting and softly pushing each other back and forth so they could both fit in the frame.

Octavia: Move up it’s only showing your forehead!

She chirps, moving herself over to give Esther some space to get in the frame. Esther moves up but frowns when she sees how the image has shifted on the screen.

Esther: Great now it’s only seeing your neck, Tavia.

Esther whines. Octavia leans back down, realizes she’s right, and starts maneuvering again. On the other side of the screen, Penny is standing in a hallway at the Atlas Huntsman Academy giggling as she watches the two try to figure out a way, they can both fit on the tiny screen. She keeps her eyes on them as they struggle but immediately pipes up when her eyes catch them moving in the right direction to fit.

Penny: Stop! Hold it right there!

Both girls freeze and lock eyes with the viewfinder. Esther’s head is resting on Octavia’s shoulder and Octavia’s high ponytail is mostly cut out off the frame but otherwise, both girls are clearly visible from Penny’s point of view. After a moment Esther starts to blush, flustered from being so close to Octavia’s ample bust, and tries to move away. But Octavia pulls her back to keep her in the frame, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and holding her cheek to from moving away. Penny almost snorts as Esther’s face goes tomato red, it’s so cute to see her face look so expressive! But soon the laughter is replaced with conversation as the girls resume chatting.

Penny: So, you two never stop talking after the masquerade ball?

Octavia: Nope! Esther stayed with me the whole night and came to check on me for a whole week after school!

Esther: She wasn’t going to class, so I brought her our lesson plans to keep her on track and some pastries to cheer her up.

Octavia: I didn’t even know we went to the same school until she showed up in our uniform!

She tugs at her collar with her free hand, showing off her school blazer.

Octavia: Turns out we have half the same classes too and I never even know!

Esther: That’s because I always sit in the back.

Octavia: But her coming by to comfort me really made us bond and we’ve been attached at the hip! She hasn’t left my side since!

She chirps, nuzzling her cheek against Esther’s in a show of affection making the poor girl even reader than she already was if that was even possible. Penny giggles again while Esther shoots her a pleading glance to knock it off.

Penny: That’s great! I’m glad you had someone after.…everything.

The mood immediately drops as the catalyst for the friendship is brought up. Esther goes from red to white and freezes up, but Octavia just sighs before putting on a brave smile.

Octavia: Thanks again for speaking to the general about Daddy. Because of you, he got away with just an in-depth audit and five years of probation.

Penny: Don’t worry about it, it wasn’t a huge issue. I just spoke up on his behalf and hoped General Ironwood would listen.

Octavia: Still! It’s a lot more than any of my other “friends” have done for me in a while.

She uses air quotes around the word friends and rolls her eyes. Penny sees the passive-aggressive glint look her eyes and knows the blinders Octavia had on to her perceived pals’ positive traits had come off fast and hard since she’d last seen her. Which was good but also very sad as it meant she’d most likely just lost 80% of her friends once.

Penny: Oh, did none of the other girls come visit you with Esther?

She asks as softly as possible to lighten the blow but Esther sucking her teeth and looking down in response clues her in that this was definitely not gonna be an easy talk.

Octavia: Nope! Not a one! And who needs them?! You two are much better company anyway!

She states with a huff, Esther and Penny are eased by her conviction. Penny especially is overjoyed that Octavia will be moving away from those bad influences. Despite that, she still feels a little concerned, seeing as they were her closest friends even if it was a one-sided relationship.

Penny: Aw, are you alright?

Octavia: Hmm?

Penny: I mean they were your friends for a long time, it must have been hard to part with them at a time like this.

Penny sympathizes but is soon met with a dark chuckle as Octavia’s expression shifts from an annoyed pout to a mischievous grin. She sighs and cups her cheek, looking oh-so disappointed as she regales the true end to her long-standing fake friendships.

Octavia: Oh, it was very hard. I couldn’t bring myself to face them for weeks! But then this morning….

Her pout starts to crack back into a smirk as she recalls the morning’s events. She had met up with Esther as soon as she’d arrived but as they walked to class they ran into the ill-mannered clique. Seraphina was the first to notice them and her face instantly twisted into fury. She steps in front of them right as they are about to pass, blocking off their path and grabbing Fay, Mackenzie, and Sophia’s attention to the situation. The four immediately start in with passive-aggressive comments, mockingly congratulating Octavia for finally showing her face after her daddy’s very public throwdown and arrest. Instead of looking uncomfortable or pathetic, Octavia responds with a quick “thank you” and tries to move past them. Shocked by her non-reaction Seraphina blocks her again and asks why she is acting so cold, insisting that she was just kidding and there’s no reason to be so rude to a friend.

Octavia: But I’m not though. My friend is right over here.

She gestures to Esther, taking her hand and holding on tight.

Octavia: And we’re going to class.

She tries to push past but is again blocked by Seraphina who can barely hold up her fake smile under the strain of her irritation.

Seraphina: Don’t get smart with me, Tavi. It doesn’t suit you.

She spits with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. Octavia doesn’t back down however instead she fires back.

Octavia: And desperate doesn’t suit you. Or maybe it does since you don't mind using your daddy’s money to get some face time with a boy far out of your league.

Serephina’s face drops giving Octavia and Esther a chance to slip past. She looks back for a split second to see that the other three have pounced on Seraphina, demanding to know what Octavia meant. And for the first and last time, the four of them put a truly joyous smile on her face. She’s still wearing that smile as she wraps up her story.

Octavia: And that was that. They let us be and have been at each other’s throats since.

Penny looked surprised at her; she didn't think Octavia could be so sassy though the thought of Seraphina getting heat from her terrible friends did make her crack a smile.

Penny: Wow that’s just…(giggle).. so standard for jerks like that! No loyalty to each other at all!

She says through a fit of laughter, Esther and Octavia joining in as they giggle about the toxic friend group’s implosion. But the laughter is interrupted by a notification on Penny’s screen. It’s a reminder to move down to the robotic lab within the next ten minutes.

Penny: Oh!

She swipes up to clear it, guess girl talk is over.

Penny: Sorry, I gotta go. It’s almost time for my appointment.

Octavia: Aw, already?

Penny: Yup, and I can’t keep the doctor waiting.

Octavia: Okay, good luck with your physical.

Esther: Make sure to eat after.

Penny: I will! Talk to you later, bye!

She waves to them through the screen, and they wave back before cutting the call. From there Penny pockets her scroll and starts walking toward her next task, getting her scheduled physical examination.

Now this wasn’t just her day to get examined, no this was something that happened twice a year for the whole of the academy. Students, soldiers, and huntsmen had to be examined for a medley of reasons, most of which had with the safety of all parties, and it took days to complete because of the three factors.

One, the sheer number of people that needed to be seen. Two, the schedules that need to be changed or adjusted so both cities could be safe while everyone was being looked at. And three, the vast variables in what was considered good health due to semblance, species, and augmentation. Some semblance could change the user's physical state or require a certain body type to function which would be considered unhealthy in normal circumstances. Some fanus have certain physical differences depending on animal traits that affect their marks for health. And lastly, there were some people with prosthetics enlisted, which changed how their examinations were carried out as the condition of prosthetics needed to be documented in detail for the safety of all. All together the Atlas Huntsmen Academy physical examinations took a full workweek to finish.

Penny was one of the few who had priority and had to be examined on day one. This day was mostly reserved for special agents who could not be out of the field for more than a few hours, a third of those with mechanical prostheses, people healing from recent injuries, and certain huntsmen who had difficulty going to the doctor of their own accord. Basically, the system prioritized getting the difficult work done first to lessen the impact of the week’s chaos.

While she didn’t hate getting checked up on, Penny didn’t really enjoy physical examinations, especially after getting her new body. She was advised not to eat for twelve hours beforehand and with her new stronger senses the examination felt much more invasive than it ever had before.

Penny: I really hope Dr. Echinacea warms her hands a little this time.

She prays while taking a shortcut through the medic wing to get to the robotics development. As she’s about to pass by a door opens and Neon jumps out, landing on the floor with a thud. Her eyes are dilated and her bright orange hair tail is upright with every strand of fur standing on end!

Penny: Neon!

Penny bends down to try and help her up but the moment she reaches out her hand Neon hisses in her face and starts to swipe her away. Penny jumps to avoid Neon’s surprisingly sharp nail as the fanus continues to behave like an aggressive cat!

Penny: Ah Neon! Stop it! Hey!

Penny pleas while dodging the orange cat girl's attempts to furiously claw her face! After several seconds she manages to grab both of Neon’s arms and tries to look her over to see what’s got her so spooked.

Flynt: Get your ass back here!

The shouting voice of an agitated Flynt makes Neon freeze for a moment before breaking into a full panic. She struggles to get out of Penny’s grasp and escape, but the other redhead’s grip is too strong to break! Meanwhile, Penny has no idea what happening and doesn’t get the chance to ask before the rest of team FMKI comes rushing out of the same door as Neon.

Kobalt: There you are, come here!

Kobalt reaches down to grab Neon and with no means of escape, she jumps up and clings to Penny for dear life wrapping her legs, arms, and tail around her hips and burying her head in Penny’s shoulder to keep from being pulled away. Still, Kobalt grabs her and tries to pull her off, but Neon’s grip is too tight, and Penny’s solidness just makes for more resistance.

Kobalt: Seriously?!!!

He roars, arms start hard at work trying to get her off. Seeing him struggle the other men of FNKI grab onto their bulkiest teammate and start pulling with him.

Flynt: Come on Kitty! Enough’s enough! You can’t keep running all day!

Ivori: Please! It’ll be over sooner if you just stop fighting!!!

Kobalt: And you’re way too old to be pulling this shit anyways, so cut it out!

They shouted, putting all their strength into pulling but the neon-covered girl was not letting up for a second. Still unaware of what exactly going on but seeing their efforts and knowing the team’s dynamic Penny makes the executive decision to let go of Neon’s arms and gently pull her. Once she releases her grip the change in force makes Neon flinch and lose her balance, sending her and her teammates flying backwards. All four end up on the floor, Neon hitting the ground the hardest as she slams down onto her back. She groans and rubs her head while her teammates get back to their feet.

Kobalt: She’s down! Get her!!!

He shouts and all three pounces on her! After a bit of a struggle, Ivori and Kobalt manage to lift Neon by her torso and legs, despite her flailing around. With her detained Flynt brushes himself off and approaches Penny.

Flynt: Thanks for grabbing her, we’ve been trying to get her in all day.

He states apologetically while rubbing the back of his neck. Penny looks at him confused and decides to inquire about what in the world this was all about.

Penny: You're welcome, Flynt but why was Neon acting that way? I’ve never seen her so distressed.

Flynt: Oh, that.

Flynt pauses before letting out an aspirated sigh, it was barely early afternoon, but his eyes looked exhausted even though his dark shades.

Flynt: Neon hates doctors. Never liked going to see one for anything. Something about the vibes being too strict making her cat side go crazy. So, we gotta drag her in by the scuff for team check-ups.

Penny: Ohhhh.

Suddenly it all clicked, Neon often leaned into her cat instincts, but Penny would have never guessed it went so far as to hold similar fears like this. But knowing that now it made a lot of sense though that barely dulled the shock of a young woman acting like a house cat throwing a hissy fit over a trip to the vet. Flynt smiles as he can practically see the wheels turning in her head as she thinks but a quick look of surprise overtakes him as remembers something.

Flynt: Ah, hold up. I just remembered something.

Flynt cuts off her bewilderment by reaching into his pocket and pulling two concert tickets. Upon closer inspection, they are tickets to team FNKI’s upcoming performance!

Flynt: Neon said she owned a few so she had me earmark yours when they printed. Best seats in the house for our favorite fearless hero.

He offers up the ticket with a flourish, twirling them from under his thumb and pointer finger to between the middle and pointer. Penny takes the tickets and gives them a good look; they’re made of strong cardstock printed black with neon lettering. “FNKI NIGHT!” was the event name, written in a rainbow of neon colors. A fitting name for their act.

A bright grin spreads across Penny’s face as the sight of the tickets fills her with giddiness!

Penny: Premium Tickets to Team FNKI’s concert! Eh!

She squeals, so happy another one of her little dreams was coming true.

Penny: Thank you so much, Flynt!

She reaches out to grab them but right before her fingertips can touch one Flynt lifts up his arm and holds them out of the way. Penny tilts her, perplex. Didn’t he just offer her these a second ago? Flynt smirks at her confusion and holds the tickets out to her again but snatches them away again, pulling to the right. Try again and he swipes them away at the last minute once more. After the third time, Penny recognizes that he’s just messing with her, but seeing as she has places to be she’s not about to let him win. The next time she reaches out, she purposefully lets him pull his hand away only to snatch the tickets as he’s mid-motion. Flynt blinks and looks at his empty hand then back at Penny who’s sweetly grasping the tickets with both of her hands. A lovely innocent smile on her face, as if she hadn't just moved faster than the blink of an eye to end their game of keep away.

Penny: I look forward to the show! It’s my first time going to this type of concert!

She states cheekily, pocketing the tickets. Flynt pauses but soon breaks into a chuckle, realizing she’s got him beat.

Flynt: Great! Means we get to one’s to introduce you to funk! It’s gonna blow you away!

Penny: Given your semblance and weapon style, I expect as much!

She chirps, giggling a bit. Flynt is puzzled for a second then realizes she’s joking. Now he’s feeling kinda proud as he didn’t even know she could do comebacks.

Flynt: Aw you little-now you gettin’ too quick for your own good. You better slow your roll before I slow it for ya!

He jokes, ruffling her for giving him such flack.

Flynt: See you there.

He waves her goodbye and disappears back into the medical examination room with his team, Neon still thrashing about as they carry her off to get checked up.

With her path cleared, Penny continues on her merry way to the robotics department. She manages to arrive on time and is immediately greeted by Dr. Mina Echinacea. Outfitted in her usual lab coat and navy-blue sweater dress, she had been a transfer from Mistral in her youth and studied under Pietro. She was one of the handful of scientists who helped create Penny and the one who had done much of the fine-tuning of her more feminine qualities, her specialty. As the only woman on the team, she put all her effort into crafting and consulting on certain things. Things only another woman would truly understand the importance of enough to properly replicate faithfully.

Mina: Womanhood is a very unique existence to nearly impossible to recreate, as it will never feel truly accurate due to the very nature of being a homosapien female. Doubt, self-pity, and ego are irreplaceable parts of the female experience. If she takes pride in her parts but questions their validity, then we’ve done something right.

That was her philosophy when it came to her work on female-specific prosthetics. Her work restored femininity to many unfortunate women and was a big part of creating Penny’s. In the medical world, she was seen as the curator of the female form.

Mina: Good afternoon, Penny.

She greets her, voice familiar but not warm in the way Ironwood or her dad called her. No Mina was a lot more hands-off with Penny, examinations being the one exception. Penny doesn’t notice or mind her sterile greeting and returns it with her usual positive energy.

Penny: Salutations, Dr. Echinacea! Is my examination room ready?

Mina: Yes, but we’ll be in the far back today. Your father’s finally got the general down here for proper testing and tune-ups and the equipment he needs can’t be moved.

Penny: I understand, please lead the way!

She asks kindly, Mina nods and leads her down the hallways to the exam room. Entering the room it’s just how Penny expected. A modest room with a specialized medical bed with several cables directly above it, normal physical examination equipment, some special examination equipment such as a special movable x-ray screen, and a clear computer connected to the bed. All of this was inclosed to a specific half of the room as it doubles as an observation room, so one wall was covered with a viewing window. Thankfully the view from it can be blocked with the push of a button. Which Mina does as she goes over to the computer and grabs a disposable gown from the medical cabinet underneath it.

Mina: We’re doing a full health scan today, so you’ll need to strip.

She states, holding out the gown to Penny while facing the computer. Penny takes the gown and moves other side of the room. Giving a harsh look over at the now thickly tinted viewing window to make sure no one can see through; Penny takes a deep breath and strips. Putting her backpack down first before slowly stepping out of her rocket boots. With the clunky boots off she can start taking off her fabric attire, beginning with college and her blouse. She takes off the blouse first, pulling down the straps of her skirt off her shoulder and then unbuttoning her top. After she pulls it off her shoulders, Penny folds the shirt and lays it on her backpack, followed but her collar and brooch. Next is her high skirt, undoing the gold buttons in front loosens the corset-like upper half of the skirt enough for her to pull it open and slip her legs out. Removed and folded, it too joins the pile of clothing, and soon after so does her bow. Now all that’s left is her underclothing.

Yes, underclothing.

Specifically, a simple matching black bra and panties set.

This was one of the worst parts of getting examined as with her newly strengthened senses Penny could feel the air on her body just as much as anyone else could. But her senses were fresh, every lick of air a new sensation Penny hadn’t known before in places she couldn’t feel before, at least to this extent. It made her extremely sensitive and easily embarrassed when exposed. But for the sake of her health, she had to.

Steadying her hands and pulling her hair over one shoulder, Penny reaches back and unclasps her bra. Taking it off, she can feel the weight of her breasts droop downward as they lose its support. She wraps her arm around them as she adds the bra to the clothes pile, holding them up and shielding them from the cool air. With her free hand, she pulls down her underwear, crossing her legs as she walks out of them.

Penny’s so busy trying to get changed quickly that she doesn’t notice Mina glancing at her. She watches her very carefully, not for any voyeuristic purpose but for her body’s reactions. Penny’s skin seems to respond perfectly to the loss of covering and warmth, her breasts move with the weight and fluidity of nature breast their size down to the way the nipples sagged when unrestrained. Testament to years of research, technological advancement, and effort.

After she’s stripped down to nothing Penny immediately puts on the medical gown to cover herself. Tying the string of the thin medical robe around her neck and mid back. Everything was covered from the front, but the back had huge gaps, necessary for the exam. Still, being wrapped nothing but in napkin-thin cloth in a low-temperature sterile lab did little to calm her growing discomfort.

Mina: Are you ready?

Mina asks, now looking directly at her.

Penny nods, picking up her clothes and rushing to the exam bed before the cool air can settle in any further. Setting her clothes and backpack aside and hopping up onto the bed, sitting upright with her shoulder back, back straight, and chest out as the examination begins.

The first few steps are fairly ordinary, checking her eyes, ears, mouth, and throat for any signs of damage, irritation, or blockage. Next is the breathing and pulse test followed by a reflex check. All seems in order, the small shivers running down Penny’s spine at the feel of Mina’s cold hands being testament to that, leaving Mina to sit back at the computer.

Mina: Optics, audio, and pharynx systems are clean and in perfect working order. Reflexes and limb movement are tight, fluid, and responsive. Airways are clear, temperature fluctuates properly, and no external damage to be reported.

She says aloud while typing the information into Penny’s medical report.

Mina: Alright, that’s the external test done. Now for the internal diagnostic. Please move your hair aside and keep your back straight.

She asks. Penny nods and parts her hair down the middle with her hands, swiping a half over each shoulder leaving her scalp bare. She takes a deep breath, and a circle of skin on her scalp ripples open to reveal a port. It’s a little larger than the charging port which also opens up along with one just below Penny’s shoulder blades. These ports had several purposes, the head and chest ports were for checking her internal functions and monitoring her soul chamber, which resided underneath her heart. The charge port was delivered electricity to her body through her skeletal system and brain, powering her body and weapons systems. The one connected purpose they played was allowing connecting cables to be plugged into Penny directly so her data could be accessed securely.

Speaking of cables, the ones above the bed descend, and Mina walks over and guides each into the correct port.

Penny doesn’t feel too much, just a jolt when the head and chest cables are entered. The skin that had retraced went numb when the cables connected but that was only on her back. Unlike a human or faunus whose skin are a singular connected organ; Penny’s was technically multiple pieces. A special fixable skin-like polymers with microscope sensory tech engrained into it, modded to be completely zero tense, micro vein-like cables thread the pieces together so tight they are seamless to the naked eye.

Once everything is connected, Mina uses the computer to access Penny’s data. Months of information on muscle memory, sleeping recorders, charging time, weapon system use and so much more. Honestly, she could look through Penny’s brain for almost anything it stored, including memories, but that was not what this examination was for. Mina wasn’t the type to dig through the poor girl’s head unless it was completely necessary and after getting serval levels of clearance as well as Penny’s consent. She just needed to take a cursory glance to ensure everything was working as it should.

Thus, she focuses on finding outliers rather than mundane information. Almost immediately she notices certain areas of activity that have changed drastically, lining up with the reports she has on Penny’s most recent mission and noted incidents. The first to catch her attention is the increments of increased stress levels and lower sleep cycle. Then several severe spikes in emotional distress on several different occasions within close intervals. This is concerning but understandable given the circumstances surrounding the spikes. But what does surprise Mina is the other abnormalities, flares of emotions she hadn’t seen in Penny’s data ever. Instances of affectionate behavior that were far from her usual friendly behavior, pulse acceleration with temperature increases but no stress indicators, and stimulating of her lips in a way that only contact with another set could generate!

Mina: Well, I’ll be damned. She’s gone off and found somebody.

Mina thought, making note of all of this. She’ll question Penny on some of this new info during the wrap questions but at the moment Penny’s systems seem completely fine.

Mina: Okay, everything seems in order. Now I just need to take a look with the X-ray then ask you some questions and we’re done.

She states, typing out a few more notations before ending the connection with Penny’s brain. As she takes out the cables Penny looks oddly nervous.

This was the part she dreaded most. Not for any truly logical reason, this was actually the safest part of almost all health examinations. This X-ray was the safest for both the technician and the patient, specifically because it was made for her. But there was one thing that made her so nervous about being under the machine.

Magnetic pull.

Now Penny’s new body wasn’t as magnetic as the last but that wasn’t the problem. It was just that ever since the tournament the idea of a magnetic pull on her frightened Penny deeply. Just like having anything thin wrapping around her waist it just brought her back to that day. Being in pieces at Pyrrha’s feet right before the darkness enveloped her into an endless void for an ungodly amount of time. Rationally she knees nothing will happen but just knowing how it functioned made her feel unnerve. Mina notices her nervousness and gives her a reassuring head pat.

Mina: It’s alright, dear. Even a steel pen wouldn’t stick to it.

She says, voice soft as her touch. Penny, while still very nervous, elects to believe her and proceeds with the exam. The screen was made for body scans and came up to her neck, so Penny stood straight up as it was placed in front of her and turned on. The screen is connected to the computer and the scan is reflected in the monitor. Her gaze drifts over to it as Mina inspection the X-ray screen.

It’s miraculous, at a quick glance the image showed a perfectly normal organ system of a perfectly healthy human woman. Heart, lungs, stomach, intestines, and all vital organs were present and accounted for even the muscle looked conversing down to the joints. But upon closer inspection, it's clear things aren’t as they seem. The bones were a little too thick on the inside, where there should be fat was something close in appearance but not quite the same, a vaginal tunnel with no womb at its end. And the most obvious piece, the small cage like organ right below the heart, pulsing with a spring green glow. A part that housed something that was meant to be felt and not seen, her soul.

Penny: So alike but so different, down to the microscopic level.

Penny muses apathetically, this was the reality of her existence. She was made not born, with purpose not on impulse. Both a blessing and a curse as she could view humanity from the outside objectively but would also remain completely outside it.

A one-of-a-kind sense of otherness for a one-of-a-kind being like her.

Penny: I wonder what he’d think if he could see through me, see the truth. What…would he say? …Would he yell? Cry? …Would he ever want to look at me again? Could I even-

Mina: Alright everything looks fine in here.

Penny’s melancholic thoughts are interrupted by Mina giving her the all-clear. With that done she turns off the X-ray and they walk back to the exam bed.

Mina: Looks like everything is working fine and dandy I just need to ask you a few questions and we’ll be-

A buzzing cuts Mina off, it’s her scroll. She holds up a hand and mouths “excuse me” while fishing the device out of her pocket. It’s an urgent message, a huntress patient’s more delicate prosthetics had been damaged and needed immediate care before there was permanent damage to the organic tissue.

Mina: Oh no.

Penny: What is it?

Mina: An issue’s come up and my assistance is needed, or someone might die.

Penny: What?! No!

Mina: I know! Don’t worry I’m texting someone to come and finish up your exam. Just get dressed and stay put, they should be here soon!

She states as fast as she can coherently speak, not giving Penny time to respond before she rushes out of the room still typing as she speed-walks to her emergency patient. Now alone Penny gets redressed and waits on the exam bed for…

Penny: Wait, who did she text to finish the exam?

Penny wondered, having been left without any clue of who was coming to oversee the last part of her checkup. There were few people qualified or permitted to handle her medical information or care. Most were busy or relocated, her dad was busy, and she didn't think anyone else fit the criteria to tend to her. The answer comes when the door to the lab room opens and a familiar face walks through.

Her black gloves were replaced by a black cardigan with gold bows and ribbon embroidered down the long sleeves. Her usual long boots were swapped for ankle-high engine boots paired with long black stockings. And her sapphire hair had grown past her nape and down to her shoulder. But she still had her same wrapped collar shirt, high waist skirt, and the cheeky beret she never left home without. Regardless of any changes she was still her.

Penny: Ciel!

Penny cried, grinding ear to ear as she spotted her favorite handler. If not for the fact Penny knew Ciel didn’t like to be touched without permission, she would have tackled her into a hug by now! Still, the smile on her face makes it abundantly clear, she’s absolutely elated to see her again!

But as she approaches it appears that the feeling isn’t mutual. Ciel’s gaze is cold as she barely glances at Penny before pulling up the mini hologram screen on her smartwatch.

Ciel: Good afternoon, my name is Ciel Soleil, and I’ll be handling your post-exam questionnaire.

She states. Her voice is strict, professional, and impersonal. Penny blinked, bewildered by her icy tone.

Though she and Ciel hadn’t been the best of friends before, but Ciel had never been this cold to her. They got along well long before the tournament so she couldn’t understand where this attitude was coming from. Wanting answers Penny responded politely but firmly.

Penny: I know who you are, you worked as a junior in the robotics department under my dad. We went to Vale together-

Ciel: Thank you, now let’s get this over with. First question,

She interrupts her, disregarding Penny’s statement without a second of consideration.

Ciel: Have you experienced any auditor or visual glitches during daily activity?

Penny: N-no, I haven’t. Anyway, how have you been-

Ciel: Good, moving on.

She cuts her off again, barreling past any attempts at small talk. Her curtness is like a needle to the heart as Penny can’t understand why she’s acting this way.

Ciel: Any involuntary movement of your limbs during or after combat.

Penny: Ciel…

Ciel: Please answer the question.

Penny: No.

Ciel: Alright, moving on.

Ciel continues to rattle off health questions, never looking up from her screen as she inputs the correlating data. Penny answers in turn but can feel her chest squeeze at every failed attempt to get Ciel to converse with her openly.

Why was this happening? After how they had parted this should have been at tearful reunion. A joyous moment where the two could celebrate and reconnect after surviving impossible odds but instead, there was…nothing.

But why?

Had she done something wrong the last ten they spoke? What was causing Ciel, straightforward put together but kind and caring Ciel, to act like…this? Like they were complete strangers.

Penny: I don’t get it, she used to take such good care of me. So why…

Penny can feel herself tearing up, gripping the hem of her skirt as tries to holt them from flowing and complete the questionnaire. Ciel doesn’t even turn her head and begins to list the last few questions.

Ciel: Have you had any issues with digestion or waste disposal?

Penny: …No.

Ciel: Have you ingested any harmful or hazardous materials in the last few months?

Penny: …no.

Ciel: Have you experienced any impulses or curiosities of a sexual nature-wait, what?!

Penny: Excuse me?!

This question shocks both of them, Penny, especially as such a topic has never come up in a physical examination before!

Penny: Why would Dr. Echinacea even ask this?! I’ve never even had those kinds of-

Penny’s confusion is quickly cut when she recalls every time a certain white-haired gentleman had made her flustered in the last few months.

Penny: Oh…right.

Her face turns a bright red as she realizes her once-pure mind has generated and experienced enough lewdness in the wake of her first crush that it could detected on scans. The tingles that had both frightened and intrigued her were now markers of her evolution into a sexually aware young woman. Along with every ounce of pure awkwardness that entailed.

Meanwhile, Ciel is utterly aghast by this line of questioning and checks the list again to make sure she read it right. To her horror, that was indeed the correct question, and the last two also concerned topics of a sexual nature.

Ciel: What the hell is this?! What kind of crap show are they running here?!!!

She almost shouts, incensed by the idea that the Penny she knew would ever be asked something like this. The girl herself immediately picks up on her discomfort and tries to reassure her despite her own distress.

Penny: I-it’s okay! I’m fine with answering that-(hiccup)-Okay, not actually fine with it but I can answer if you need me to!

She stammers, face getting redder as she tries to spare them both the brunt of the embarrassment and fails miserably.

Ciel: Can’t believe this. As if scavenging her remains to build a replacement wasn't bad enough, they couldn’t even get the damn thing right!

Penny: What?

Penny questions confused and concerned about whatever misconception were running through Ciel’s thoughts right now, but the lady doesn’t hear her pleas.

Ciel: Penny would never even think of something bad enough to be asked this shit!!!

She grumbles, gritting her teeth in frustration. Penny’s thoughts jumble when she hears this, this was completely out of left field.

Penny: W-what? What are you talking about, Ciel? What replacement?!

She asks, frazzled by this ludicrous assumption Ciel was making but Ciel just scuffs.

Ciel: So, they didn’t tell you about the girl you were built from, huh? (huff) Figures.

She groans, face still turned away from Penny. This response elicits a rare reaction out of Penny, anger. How dare she say that when she had no idea the hell Penny had been through! Surviving that incident was an absolute nightmare that had scared her for life! Even now she was still recovering from the restlessness and fear that it bloomed in her! And to be written off after working so hard to overcome that suffering was something she couldn’t bear!

Penny: I wasn’t built from anyone, I was rescued! I had to cling to life for months while they put me back together!

Ciel: Is that what they told you? Or did they implant some fake memories to keep you docile and obedient?

This remark gets Penny fuming, how dare Ciel question her memories! She wasn’t even there when she woke up and she hadn’t reached out since so what gave her the right to talk like this?!

Penny: No one told me anything, I lived it! I went through so much pain and misery just to get back on up and outside again! I had to go through so much after I being cut in half-

Ciel: PENNY POLENDINA WAS CUT IN HALF!!!

She growls, gazes still downturned as she pulls at the ends of her sleeves.

Ciel: Penny Polendina was cut in half by Pyrrha Nikos during the Vytal Festival Tournament. She…died…she died on the cold floor of the arena in front of a stadium of people.

Ciel states, her matter-of-fact tone creeping into a weeper. This is what Ciel had believed but Penny knew that was far from the truth.

Penny: I was cut in half, but I didn’t die. My body shut down and put whatever remaining power it had left into keeping my brain alive and my soul put for as long as it could! When they recovered me, I was in terrible condition, but I was still alive!

Ciel: That isn’t possible, she was-

Penny: Shut up! I’m talking now!

Penny shouts, jumping up from the exam bed and matching right up to Ciel before continuing.

Penny: I was taken back to Atlas functional life support, not that I knew at the time because I was unconscious during all of it. When they stabilized me, transferred me to my new body, everything!

Ciel can’t even lift her head to contest her words as Penny proceeds with her tirade.

Penny: I couldn’t see, hear, or feel anything outside of my own mind. I was stuck in a black empty void for so long I couldn’t tell time if was passing anymore! Screaming to myself almost every second because I was scared I’d forget what sound was! That if I lost my last sense then I’d really die!!!

Tears begin to flow from her eyes, memories of that endless darkness shaking her to the core.

Penny: I had nightmares about being trapped in that hell again! I refused to sleep because I’d rather stay awake and let my mind fall apart than risk never getting back up!!!

Her shouts become choked as they blend into sobs, her tears running down her cheeks like a river as she recounts all the trauma she’d endured.

Penny: I have been through so much…too much…I’m Penny Polendina, The Penny Polendina! I was broken in half and survived every second of recovering from and living after it!!! SO DON’T YOU DARE…. Don’t you dare call me a copy, because I’m not.

Her breath hitches and she breaths hard, that was the first time she’d ever told anyone except her dad the full extent of her suffering but once she knew Ciel thought she had just died and been replaced she couldn’t keep it in!

It was too unfair! To her and Ciel.

Ciel doesn’t respond to anything Penny says, standing in perfect silence as she absorbs this massive revelation. Head still down, her hair curtaining her face and obscuring her expression. Penny doesn’t take this well, she can't stand being ignored after streaming out so much raw emotion.

Penny: Look at me, Ciel. Look at me!!!

She demands and Ciel does turn her head to look at her. Her eyes are glazed over with tears, the reflection of which calms Penny immediately. She reaches out to cup her cheek but stops just short to not cross Ciel’d boundaries. Looking at her, directly at her, Ciel gazes into her eyes and finally recognizes the girl she thought she’d lost forever. Not a fake or copy, but the same girl transformed in body and changed in mind but still the same kind soul.

Ciel: …Penny? You’re...really…

She can’t bring herself to finish her sentences and breaks down into a sobbing mess. Her once-steeled heart cracks open under the weight of the miracle she’s experiencing. Seeing her tears Penny does what she always does when she wants to cheer someone up and hold her close. Feeling her warm made the moment all too real, as real as the grief she felt when she watched Penny plunge to the ground in two pieces.

Chapter 11: Talk To Me

Penny: I’m sorry but could you repeat that?

Penny asked, sitting upright in her bed. She had just woken up and hadn’t even gotten out of bed to wash up yet, pajamas and fluffy bedhead evidence to this as she stares intently at her scroll while on a video call with her boyfriend. Said boyfriend sighs softly before repeating his statement as instructed.

Whitley: My father forced me on a dinner date so he could a campaign donation out of the girl’s father.

He says matter of factly, knowing there was no real way to sugarcoat that information.

Penny: I see, that's what I thought you said….…WHAT!

She screams, absolutely outraged by what she just heard! Penny already had a low opinion of Jacques Schnee for his personality, actions, and overall demeanor. Truly there was no one Penny thought worse than him and yet every time she heard more about him her disdain for him grew. She wouldn’t say she hated him really, that was too strong of a word, but her patience for the crooked businessman was wearing thinner by the day.

Penny: What is wrong with him!!! How could he do that without your permission?!

Whitley: He’s a schemer, he’ll use any and every tool at his disposal to get what he wants. The girl wanted time with me, and her father had something my father wanted, so he made it happen.

Penny: But you’re his son, his biological family!

Whitley: And both titles are not mutually exclusive. At least in my case.

He states completely nonchalantly as per usual, acting utterly unaffected by the disrespect he’d received from his primary parental figure. Penny’s about to argue but can feel a hiccup coming on. She knows that a person could be both someone’s child and a tool in various ways, she herself was that by definition. Growing frustrated, Penny sighed and moved on to the other thing that was bothering her about this situation.

Penny: So, who was it?

Whitley: Hmm?

Penny: Who did you have to have dinner with?

Whitley: I’m not sure I should tell you that.

Penny: Wha? Why?!

Whitley: Penny, darling, you are a wonderful and caring person. Truly one of the most, if not the most, lovable people I have ever met. Buy my dear you are also very very strong and very emotional.

Penny: And? What are you implying?

Whitley: I’m just saying that telling you the name of the girl with that high of an interest in me might not be the safest thing. I mean you’ve taken down full-grown men with ease; I don’t want to think about what would happen to a teenage girl if she got on your warpath.

He jokes. honestly Whitley knew Penny wasn’t the type to respond to jealousy with rage but talking around the situation was the best way he could think of to soften the blow.

Penny: So, you think I would hurt her?

Whitley: No, but it’s best to not tempt fate.

Penny: Whitley!!!

Whitley: Okay, okay I’ll tell you. Do you remember Octavia’s little “friend group.”

Penny: Yeah?

Whitley: It was one of those girls, Seraphina actually.

Penny: Seraphina…That Seraphina!

Penny’s eyes go wide, a hot ball of fury blooming in her stomach. Out of all the ill-behaved girls in that group it had to be the most vulgar of them. Recalling how causally and thoughtlessly Seraphina had sexualized Whitley the first and only time she’d spoken with her, Penny felt a tinge of worry overlapping with her anger.

Penny: Did…did she do anything?

Whitley: Pardon?

Penny: Did she do anything to you? Anything…inappropriate?

She asks her voice soft and full of sincerity. Penny didn’t want to think of the worst-case scenario but knowing how Seraphina viewed Whitley and how little control he likely had in the situation she couldn’t help it. Sensing her concern, Whitley decides to stop with the games and clear the air before she gets carried away in the what-ifs.

Whitley: There were attempts of flirting and touching, she even followed me to the bathroom-

Penny: (gasps)

Whitley: -But! That was it. I managed to keep her at bay for whole the night without causing a scene. Nothing happened.

Penny: Really?

Whitley: Yes.

Penny: Okay.

Letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding Penny felt the ball of rage deflate as relief washed over her. Her heart was still pounding but her mind felt at ease that the worst-case scenario hadn’t taken place. Seeing the calm expression blooming on Penny’s face Whitley decides that now is the time to reveal his surprise.

Whitley: But I must admit, I don’t make it through the night myself.

Penny: Huh?

Whitley: I had a little help from some…unexpected friends.

He chuckles and then explains how he ran into Esther and Octavio and recruited their assistance during dinner.

Whitley: There was only one thing they wanted in exchange.

Penny: And that was?

He doesn’t answer, but soon a text message notification from his number pings on Penny’s scroll. Opening it she finds two mobile numbers, one for Esther and one for Octavia. Penny’s eyes widen in confusion on delight as her gaze shifts between the message and the video-fed of Whitley, who was casually smiling at her through the screen. His night of struggling to maintain his dignity and chastity had paid off well.

Whitley: They’ve been looking for you for a while and I promised to give you their contact info if I got the chance. It’s up to you whether or not to use it.

Penny: I…thank you, Whitley!

Whitley: No problem, dear. Now I have to get back to work.

Penny: On a Sunday?

Whitley: The dinner interrupted me from finishing up something I needed to get done so I could come see you today.

Penny: Oh, so…no date this week?

Whitley: No.

Penny pouts, this wasn’t uncommon given Whitley’s packed schedule but the reason behind this week’s derailment had her feeling a bit miffed. How unfair that a brat like Seraphina got to go on a date with Whitley when she, his own girlfriend, couldn’t without the right timing and lots of planning! All because her dad had the money to buy his time off of Jacques!

Penny: Hmmm.

She grumbles, Whitley chuckles at her adorable sour face.

Whitley: I know but look on the bright side. You have two lovely little lady friends to keep you company in my stead.

Penny: That true, but it still doesn’t make me miss you less.

Whitley: Me either, I’ll call again tonight. Love you.

Penny: Love you too!

They both blow each other a kiss and the call soon disconnects leaving Penny all alone in her room once more. Looks over to her closet to stare at the outfit she’d picked out earlier in the week in case of a last-minute date and sighs.

Penny: It’s been hanging up there for a few days; it feels kind of wasteful to just put it back.

She muses somberly, with her day off now open the outfit had no purpose. It was a shame as she tried to experiment a little, pairing a long yellow cardigan with a blue dress with white polka dots and fastening the matching belt around the waistline. She’d even walked around in her yellow boots a bit every night to break them in so they could be added to the look. Now there was no reason to even put it on.

Penny: Maybe I should just go spend the day with someone? Be who?

Her options without Whitley were not great, Team FUNKI was still practicing for their upcoming concert, Uncle James was always buried in work, and Winter practical went missing in action whenever she wasn’t on duty. In fact, the only person she knew was free and go somewhere was-

Penny: Wait.

Penny sits upright and jumps out of bed; she puts on her slippers then rushes out her bedroom. Jogging down the stairs and heading to the kitchen, she finds her dad making breakfast. Hearing her coming Pietro looks up from his skillet to greet her.

Pietro: Morning Sweetpea!

Penny: Morning Dad!

She chirps before rushing up to him and giving him a soft tackle hug.

Penny: What’s for breakfast?

Pietro: Just eggs and bacon, we’re outta pancake mix.

Penny: Yeah, and a lot of other stuff too. That’s why you’re going shopping today, right?

Pietro: Yup!

Penny: Can I come with you?

That gives the old man some pause. Now Pietro knew about his daughter’s relationship and how she acted when it was time to see her little bae so this sudden shift in plans meant something must have happened. So, he calls her on it.

Pietro: What about your date?

Penny: It…got canceled.

She says trying not to huff again in frustration. Seeing her pout makes Pietro chuckle as he presses on.

Pietro: Well, what happened there?

Penny: Jacques happened.

Pietro: Oooooh.

Penny: Yeah. And if I talk about it anymore, I feel like I’m going to scream!

She huffs, eliciting another laugh from her dad.

Penny: So, may I please go shopping with you?

Pietro: Of course, Sweetie! Now sit down, food’s about done.

Penny nods and skips over to the dining table. After they have breakfast, the father-daughter pair clean up the dishes and get dressed for their errand. Pietro takes a bit longer to get to the front door as he packs tote bags onto his chair to carry their groceries. When they’re all set Penny and Pietro leave the house and take the city bus to head to the market. You see, Pietro despite his great intellect was a very simple man. He liked to get his bread from the bakery and meat from the butchers when he could manage it. Sure, he could go into a big box store and get everything in one go but that wasn’t how he liked to do things. As someone who put their heart into their craft, he preferred to patron others who did the same. That’s what the bags were for, reusables for holding different products from familiar stores.

As they go from shop to shop Penny watches Pietro be greeted and greet the people inside with the kind of familiarity that takes years to develop. The staff at the general store know him by name, and the bakery already has his usual order set aside for him in by the time they walk in. She even offers Penny a couple of free cupcakes.

Valora: They’re from a test batch for a new flavor. Give it a try!

Pietro: Ah, thanks Valora. You’re too sweet.

Valora: It’s nothing, I was looking for test runners anyway.

The kind elder woman holds out the treat to Penny with a smile. It was a vanilla cupcake with powder pink icing and topped with a candied strawberry. Simple but cute, like something a sweet little girl would ask for as a treat while out with her parents.

Penny: Octavia would love this…in fact.

Penny takes out her scroll, opens the camera app, and snaps a few pictures of the cupcakes before taking them gently. She thanks the baker before taking a bite. The coating on the strawberry breaks with a soft crunch, the icing is peach-flavored, and the inside is filled with a soft peach jam. It’s an interesting tasting treat as it’s very sweet but somewhat tart. It’s a very summery flavor and Penny really enjoys it, easting about half before offering the other to her dad. As the two share sweeties Valora looks on with a satisfied smirk.

Valora: It’s good?

Penny nods yes, lips in a tight smile to keep her mouth full of baked delight from falling out.

Valora: That’s a relief, I had to sub a few things out here and there. What with that bolt head locking up the boarder-

She stops herself, slapping her hand over her mouth and excusing herself back to the kitchen. Penny looks puzzled by her words, but Pietro quickly leads her away to head to their next stop. But as they carry on with their errand Penny picks up on a common topic of conversation, complains about the border situation. This wasn’t uncommon to hear at all with how much the whole world was shaken when Beacon fell but it seemed the context of the heightened security was slowly becoming twisted.

Blame for the constrictions and slowing of supply chains was being placed on Ironwood. This wasn’t exactly wrong, but the decision had its reasons! There was a dangerous force running loose in the world with nothing but malicious acts in mind. It wanted nothing more than to rain chaos and cessation wherever it went.

Penny: It’s not like he wanted this but what choice did he have?! After what happened to Beacon, even what happened to during the tournament was already-

Penny stops in her tracks and grabs her stomach, her waist burning from the memory. Her injuries were a part of the beginning of it all, a smokescreen to cause confusion while the real nightmare unfolded. She knew the horrors it would bring onto even the most innocent or irrelevant.

Seeing her discomfort Pietro suggests they stop at a nearby park bench to catch their breath, Penny agrees. It takes some maneuvering to get their groceries situated without dropping anything. In that organizing, Pietro finds he’s forgotten something at the last stop they made. Since it’s not too far away Pietro leaves Penny behind to go retrieve it. Alone again, Penny can feel the melancholy rolling in. All day she had tried to look at the positives no matter how pessimistic things had gotten but that was a hard task to do alone when people around were in just as bad shape. Whitley was forced on a horrible date, the tension in Mantle was still high, and even her fellow huntsman friends were too busy preparing their concert to hang out with her. It’s sad but couldn’t a protector have someone to lean when she was down?

Penny: Maybe I’m being too greedy. I shouldn't beg for attention whenever I feel lonely, I’m not stuck in the lab anymore! I can go where I want to, do what I want to do and talk…to who I want to.

Penny pauses and pulls out her scroll, looking back at Whitley’s text from the morning. In her quest to chase away from worries and get outside, she’d neglected to address the two people who’d been worrying for her. Though her relationship with Octavia had started as a quest for more information on her investigation Penny had quickly grown fond of the plucky girl from their first meeting and Esther had merely triggered her protective instincts but even after she still wanted to know more about her. They were bright spots in a very dark place, and they were still seeking her out. For what Penny couldn’t be 100 percent sure but leaving resolved would be irresponsible for a protector of the people like her. So with much consideration, Penny dials one of the numbers. A soft instrumental song plays in her ear for a few seconds before a familiar clear but delicate voice replies when the music fades.

Esther: Hello?

Penny smiles, eased at the sound of her green-haired friend’s voice.

Penny: Hello Esther! How are you today?

Chapter 10: City Lights Are for the Weak of Heart.

This was not how Whitley had planned on spend his Saturday night, dressed in formal wear in the limo with his father as they drove toward a high-end restaurant. None of this was out of the ordinary, he’d long since gotten used to being dragged places by his father without notice. What was odd was the fact they weren’t going there just to meet a business colleague, but rather a possible donator to Jaques’s campaign requested to meet for dinner and insisted Whitley be brought along. At the moment he truly had no idea why he’d be called out specifically as the man, Augustine Hexton, wasn’t much of an acquaintance to him or Jaques at all. All he knew was the man came from a long line of investors, was like a passive drug user, and had a teenage daughter around Whitley’s age with an ex-wife. Which ex-wife he didn’t know but that wasn’t important now. What was important was him being dragged to this dinner in the first place!

Racking his head for recollection of any and all correspondence Jacques could have with Hexton to lead to this, Whitley draws a blank. There was literally no explanation for him to be here that would necessitate his presence at this dinner. Whitley had been assigned no task, given no material to hold onto, or even business cards to hand out. Whitley wouldn’t and couldn’t ask his father, who currently had his head buried in his scroll, as that could easily lead to an argument, and he didn't need any of that right now. So, he chooses to sit in silence for the rest of the drive, hoping the answer will come when they arrive.

When the limo finally comes to a stop it’s parked in front of the most prestigious gastronomy restaurant Templar. Ran and owned by celebrity chef Don Impeccabile, an obvious pen name, the establishment prided itself on being the premier spot for experimental cuisine and fine dining. Emphasis on the experimental as the main feature of the restaurant was the artistic fare that populates the menu. 10-course meals costing tens of thousands of lien, made from the finest ingredients with flavor combinations beyond your wildest dreams.

Whitley had never been to this particular establishment yet and didn’t have the time, opportunity, or interest to go to. Experimental cuisine was not something Whitley found appealing in any way despite being a fan of the arts. Not out of a lack of appreciation for the craft or the creativity put into making the dishes he just didn’t like the idea of food, a necessity and one of the bases on which humanity built their cultures, being an art form.

Whitley: To take something and twist it until it’s unrecognized for purely aesthetic reasons is ridiculous. Especially if that twist ruins its fundamental purpose.

He critiques inwardly, unamused the notion of eating food prepared with looks and thought processes in mind instead of nutrition and flavor.

As they pull up in front of the restaurant Whitley notes the very modern exterior. The building was a parallelogram in shape with a slanted roof and sleek line pillars framing the clouded glass plating that covered at least two-thirds of it. The building itself was very monochromatic, everything was black, white, or gray aside from the same touches of greenery. It looked so expressionless and clean even with the hum of patrons entering and exiting, Whitley could feel his stomach shrivel at the dullness of it all.

However, he doesn’t get much time to lament his situation as the rear door opens Jacques quickly gets out of the limousine without a word, leaving his son to follow behind him. Walking in is met with the usual pointed and faux-polite smiles and stares from people they recognized from different functions or recognized them. Whitley keeps a straight face but as they enter the building, he can feel a grimace coming on as the inside is just as sterile and uncomfortable as the outside. The interior is minimalistic and monochromatic, the wait staff are dressed and styled so uniformly it’s hard to tell them apart. Even the smells that should be wafting in from the kitchen are halted by heavy metal doors cutting off the kitchen from the rest of the restaurant.

The only eye-catching feature he can see so far is the hostess staying at the podium with a digital reservation book. She was a tall woman of clear mixed heritage, her facial features being very much of Mistral origin, but her skin is a very dark brown to the point of being almost black and her hair and eyes were at very soft shade of baby blue. These features were highlighted by her dress, a simple cocktail dress with oil painting patterns on it, the colors highlighted by what looked to be dust. The colors pulsing through the fabric like a soft form of lightning serging through the fabric. Dust infused clothing was an uncommon style mainly used in custom pieces for huntsmen with specific semblances or in high fashion for couture as even when fitted properly this style was unavoidably uncomfortable for most due to the mechanics behind it. A fact Whitley only knew because of a certain designer who’d done business with the SDC for that exact reason.

Giving it a long glance it’s clear that was one of newer her pieces.

Whitley: Even surrounded by seriality her work still shines. Well done, Madam Da La Beau.

He muses internally as Jacques approaches the hostess’ stand. She recognized him immediately and wasted no time typing in the confirmation. Once confirmed she led them to their table on the second floor, an area being better furnished in comparison to the first floor. There was a koi pond running through the floor with lights illuminating the walking path around it. The tables were made of colorful glass and crystal and the wait staff were dressed in couture outfits themed around a variety of terrain and environments.

Whitley: So, this is the type of place to separate little fish from dolphins and whales. Explains the surface-level presentation.

He thought. Yes, even the city in the sky had its own class divide. In fact, it was far more stringent than anywhere else in the world. That was no clearer than in certain places of business, where VIP areas were common enough that whole areas had policies on who could and couldn’t enter without the proper vetting. Some did so based on prestige others on wealth but no matter where you went the red tape held its place.

And though the atmosphere change does ease Whitley’s mood a bit it plummets right back down when he sees their table. Sectioned off by the curve of the koi pond wrapped around like a moat with a small wooden bridge connecting the small island, the table itself was made from a large tree trunk with crystal embedded and shaped into the flattened surface to mimic the appearance of a tropical island landscape map.

But that’s not what bothering him.

No, it was the fact that Augustine Hexton was sitting at the table next to his daughter Seraphina. Seraphina, who mind you is only 16, was outfitted in a backless gold dress with a deep v-line that barely came halfway up her thigh, matching high heels, matching platform gold heels, eye-catching jewelry, and extremely heavy makeup. He makes eye contact with her, and she blows him a flirty kiss. Taking a breath to calm himself and deter the urge to vomit in his mouth, Whitley looks to Jacques for clarification, but the man just gives him a knowing nod, silently incentivizing him to move forward.

Thus, the real reason for the dinner became clear, Jacques wanted Hexton to back him, Hexton wanted something for his daughter Seraphina, and Seraphina wanted Whitley. So, he’d been brought there for a date with the desperate girl while the adults talk business.

Whitley: Don’t tell me…This bastard bartered my evening for a freakin campaign donation, didn’t he!

He cursed inwardly, fuming in his head while painting a courteous smile on his face. They walk over the bridge to the table where Hexton greets them.

Hexton: There are our homered guests!

Jacques: Augustine! So good to see you! Hope we didn’t keep you waiting long.

Hexton: Not at all, though my sweet Seraph was getting a little antsy. She’s been waiting for this dinner all week!

Whitley: A week? He had this planned for a full week and still chose to blind-sighted me!

He thinks bitterly, smile still painted on his face as the two businessmen converse.

Jacques: Oh, I understand what you mean, Whitley’s been just as eager. He’s been practically shaking with excitement.

Hexton: Really? That’s wonderful! Someone as regal and refined as your son showing such interest in my little angel.

Whitley: What interest?! The only reason I’m even here is because this son of a bitch agreed to pimp me out!

He mused while forcing himself not to glare dangers at his father. At this point, Whitley wanted to scream as their blabber was doing nothing more than furthering the misunderstanding. And unfortunately, it succeeds. Seraphina looked delighted by the notion of Whitley wanting to see her as her enamored almost lusty gaze on him intensified. This sends a cold shiver down his spine and his stomach into an aggressive backflip. Hexton eagerly urges them to sit down, motioning Jacques to a seat next to his at the end of the table leaving Whitley to occupy the only other chair. Which was placed at the opposite end of his father’s and directly beside Seraphina.

Seraphina: Hey there.

She greets Whitley as he sits down, her voice pitched down as if trying to sound seductive.

Whitley: Good evening. Pleasure to see you again, Seraphina.

Seraphina: Oh no, the pleasure’s all mine.

She states, underscored by a flirty giggle. Whitley keeps up his façade of calmness despite the uncomfortable chill up his spine.

Seraphina: You know, I’ve always dreamed of that day I get to spend some time one one-on-one time with you.

Whitley: Really now? My apologies if this hadn’t lived up to your fantasies.

Seraphina: Oh, don’t say that sweetie. Night’s still young, and we’ve got all of dinner to really get to know each other.

She stated with a flirtatious grin, reaching her hand over to touch his. The contact almost makes Whitley flinch, but he holds it together. Had this been a year ago Whitley would have just found this whole situation mildly annoying but bearable. However, that was before he knew what being loved and loving someone wholeheartedly was really like or how comfortable and soothing a date could be. Truly had this happened before Penny came into his life Whitley would have had no problem sitting through this forced date with little more than a mild headache. But it wasn’t and alongside the nausea induced by Seraphina’s flirting, Whitley also had to sit with a knot of guilt in his stomach.

He shouldn’t be here, dressed well in a nice restaurant about to have dinner with a girl he hardly knew. If anything, the only reason he’d ever want to be here was if Penny wanted to try this experimental cuisine! It would have been a great excuse to get her dressed up to the nines and watch her react to the scenery change as they come upstairs.

Whitley: She’d probably get distracted by the koi before we can get to our table.

He thought while politely engaging with Seraphina in small talk, the idea of his adorable girlfriend acting in her usual quirky way gave him some peace of mind. While Seraphina probes him for personal information and tries to inch closer to him Whitley puts up a mental wall. Every time she makes him feel uncomfortable, he imagines what a date there with Penny would be like. He doesn’t let his thoughts wander enough to lose track of the conversation but it’s still at the back of his mind. Like a counterbalance keeping his sanity together so he doesn’t go mad at the thought of being on a date with someone other than his beloved.

This continues until a waiter dressed in an island biome-themed attire approaches the table with menus in hand. He bows before them, the feathers of his tropical bird-themed headdress riffing with his movements as he begins the opening of their performative meal.

Rodrick: Good evening, everyone my name is Rodrick, and I will be your guide on tonight’s culinary adventure.

He declares, voice calm and theatrical with all the forced enthusiasm of a theatre major trying to seem cultured to boost up the tip he needs to cover rent this month.

Rodrick: Tonight's voyage will be an eight-course track with stops along the coastal plane.

He motions towards the table with a swiping wave of his hand.

Rodrick: We’ll start our journey here-

He points to the beach on the map.

Rodrick: -with the bounty of the sea salad.

He exclaims before handing out the course menus and retreating to the kitchen to fetch their first course. Upon return, the table is presented with a small salad made of sea vegetation. A palm full of multi-colored seaweed, various types of algae, kelp, and hijiki arranged beautifully, well-seasoned, and topped with balsamic vinegar. However, the presentation is slightly deceiving as the first bite Whitley takes is overwhelmed by the taste one would most likely expect from a salad constructed of such ingredients.

Whitley: So salty!

Yes, the dish was overpowered by its sea salt flavor, the seasoning, and vinegar doing very little to defuse the taste as it was thoroughly woven into each vegetable. This becomes a theme of the meal as each course looks appealing while its flavor draws heavily from the most natural forms of its ingredients. The next course, soup cooked in the shell of a large crab, utilizes all the edible pieces of the creature but the mixed and matched texture of the muscles to innards paired with the light broth makes it a hard-to-swallow. The next is bread buns with a nut butter sauce, the sauce is grainy with many layers of flavors drowning out the soft flavor of the bread. After is the prawn pasta with red sauce, the sauce being fruit based bringing an uncomfortably sweet taste to the little morsels.

By the time they’re halfway through the dinner, Whitley is mentally exhausted and starving. He hadn’t had much to eat the day and the portion of this dinner had been so small and tasted so unappealing that he’d barely managed to finish his plate out of courtesy. Making matters worse, Seraphina was still flirting with him at every opportunity as their fathers ignored them to talk over the donation. She had tried to chat with him, playfully poke him, feed him bits off her plate, and at the moment was making an attempt at footsie.

Feeling her feet try and caress his leg was his breaking point. Whitley stands up, shaking off his unwanted dinner companion’s advances, and turns his and her father’s attention to him.

Whitley: Excuse me, I need to go to the restroom.

He states, looking at his father for an approving glance of permission. Jacques sighs and rolls his eyes before motioning Whitley to go ahead. The young man wastes no time in leaving the table and striding off to find the lavatory. He doesn’t actually need to go but staying there any longer was going to drive him insane! Seraphina’d constant touching had made him disgusted and her trying to play footsie with him was the last straw!

Had he stayed seated he would have kicked her leg away and told her something about herself she most certainly didn’t want to hear. But he couldn’t. This dinner was important to his father and Whitley would have hell to pay if made a scene or ruined it in any way. So, he removed himself from the situation to get his head in order.

Whitley: Just take a few minutes to breathe then go back.

He tells himself as he finds the men’s bathroom. He opens the door to find a very clean and modern-looking bathroom. The stalls for the toilets are all their own small room, the sinks are well stocked with soaps and very clean, and the mirror above them spans across the entire back wall with lights around the border illuminating it. With the door up Whitley can see what’s behind him in the mirror and he catches sight of Seraphina approaching.

Whitley: Seriously!

He bemoans before rushing into the bathroom and closing the door behind him, pressing his back against it to keep it shut! This was bad, very very bad! That girl had already been a hassle to deal with in front of her father but now she was being so bold as to come after him like this! Whitley feels a pull on the handle but holds firm. Gods knows what Seraphina will do if she gets him alone but Whitley can only hold out for so long! The door would be opened again one way or another. Eventually, someone would either need to use the restroom or leave it, giving the ravenous girl an opening.

Whitley: There’s gotta be a way out of this! Think Whitley think!

He racks his brain for any scenario that might get him out of this unsaved as Seraphina continues to tug at the door handle. But the sound of a flushing toilet breaks his concentration.

Whitley: Crap!

He swears internally, time was running out fast and he probably had less than two minutes to figure a way out of this. But there is none, right now his only options were to face Seraphina and pray he could peacefully talk his way around her or tell her off then and there. The latter was very the most dangerous to him but Whitley couldn’t help but find it more desirable than Seraphina’s incessant flirting had driven him crazy. But the repercussions of that would be catastrophic for him.

Whitley: If I give her a piece of my mind Father will-

Whitley feels a stinging pain in both of his biceps, a burning flare of warning to what the choice will gain him. Still, he couldn't just let this girl have her way with him, if not for his own sake then for Penny’s! She’d be so upset if something were to happen to him and he couldn’t cause her that kind of grief.

Whitley: What the hell do I do?!

He bemoans, his anxiety growing with the sound of rushing water trickling down. The man who emerged from the stall had just finished washing his hands and was about to dry them giving Whitley only a few seconds to act.

Whitley: Damn it!

Knowing he’s out of time, Whitley releases his hold on the door and backs up. But instead of looking defeated, his eyes are full of cold fury. The air of elegant calmness was gone and an atmosphere of pure annoyance and disregard took its place.

Whitley: Fine, if it’s going to be like this then I’ll just let her down easy. And if she won’t take no for an answer, I’ll just have to make her.

He thought, heart fully determined. Despite the punishment Whitley would face after he could not bring himself to knowingly allow this girl to take advantage of him nor betray Penny in the process! He waits for the inevitable, ready to face this head-on! The man at the sink finished drying his hands and walks past him to leave Whitley, opening the door. Behind it, Whitley finds Seraphina not standing in wait and ready to pounce on him but chatting with Octavia and Esther! Shocked but very much relieved Whitley rushes back into the bathroom before anyone catches sight of him. Given a second wind, he takes a moment to clear his head and dust himself off, specifically anywhere Seraphina had touched him. Once he’s cleaned up, washing his hands for effect, Whitley exits the bathroom and Esther is the first to spot him. She stealthily leaves the conversation while Octavia keeps her distracted. She rushes over with a huff and pulls Whitley over to a corner to talk.

Esther: What the hell are you doing here?!

She whispers yells at him, breaking completely from her usual shy self with her rough tone.

Whitley: I’m here for dinner with my father-

Esther: No! I meant with her!

Whitley: Our fathers are colleagues and thought it be good if we got to know each other.

He states, calm and sensible as his usual persona returns. Esther doesn’t seem to calm down at all, instead, her face begins to glow red with frustration.

Esther: I can’t believe you're doing to Penny; I thought you two had something.

She whispered under her breath, voice teaming with anger and disappointment. This catches Whitley completely off guard and his mask slips for a moment.

Whitley: Excuse me?

He asks her as if lightly daring her to repeat the statement.

Esther: I mean, everyone knows what type of girl Seraphina is so how could-

Esther paused and her face goes from red to pale as she finally noticed the eerie glint in Whitley’s eyes, the bitterness, and anger in them burning deep as he peered into her soul. It’s too much for a wallflower like Esther and she adverts her gaze. Whitley sighs and proceeds to clarify the situation.

Whitley: Ms. Hellebore, or rather Esther, I believe you’ve misunderstood something. I am here because my father brought me here for dinner, Seraphina is here because her father brought her, and they decided to have this meal together at the same table. Nothing more.

Esther listens intently, she calms down as reads through the lines and realizes Whitley is mostly likely here for the same reason Esther herself went to most social events, because one or both parents made her.

Esther: …oh.

Whitley nods in confirmation and looks over his shoulder to make sure Seraphina is still distracted and continues.

Whitley: As for my relationship with Ms. Polendina that’s a private matter.

Esther: I see.

Esther keeps her gaze down, convinced but saddened that her show of courage was for nothing. Sensing her vulnerability, Whitley takes it as an opportunity to turn his night around and give Penny a special surprise.

Whitley: I know you have some strong attachments given what she’s done for you.

Esther nods in the affirmative.

Whitley: It must have been for you to lose touch with such a kind companion so soon after meeting her. But…

Esther: But?

Whitley smirks, this was too easy.

Whitley: But maybe it doesn’t have to be that. I mean you do have a third-party contact that easily reconnect you with her. That is if you’re willing to help the middleman.

Esther looks up to meet his gaze with surprised interest and is met with Whitley’s trademark business smile.

Esther: What do you want?

The two converse quickly and quietly before reconvening with Octavia and Seraphina. Esther whispers the details to Octavia as Seraphina resumes fawning over Whitley. By the time Whitley and Seraphina make it back to the table, they are accompanied by two guests much to the bewilderment of their fathers. The two explain that they had run into Whitley and Seraphina on their way to their table.

Esther: My parents double-booked their evening and didn’t want to cancel the reservation so let me have it to take a friend out.

Esther explained before doing as Whitley had instructed and brought up her father’s interest in politics.

Esther: I think he was a bit frazzled from looking into council candidates when he booked the reservation and forgot about their other appointment.

This sparks Jacques's interest, and Octavia quickly echoes a similar sentiment for her parents and naïvely asks if any of the candidates are nice. From there the rest of the evening is spent on the meal while Jacques spouts his self-serving propaganda, overtaking the conversation so much that Seraphina goes quiet. Her vapid brain can’t stand the non-stop talk of political matters and tunes it out to protect itself.

By night’s end, Jaques has secured another donation and possible appeals to four prospective donors, and Whitley makes it out of the night unscathed!

As Jacques bids Hexton goodbye while confirming his bank details for the transaction, Whitley wraps things up with Octavia and Esther.

Octavia: Okay, we did our part now you have to hold up your end of the bargain!

Esther: Yeah, we sat through that thing so do what you promised!

They press, determined to get their just reward. Whitley smiles at their convection, proud to see that his beloved had found such jewels of friends in this morally bankrupt city.

Whitley: Yes, yes, I know, and don't worry. I’ll pass along the message in the morning and if she agrees you’ll be heading back from her soon. Good night.

He waves them off as strides back to the family limousine to go home. The night hasn’t gone anything like Whitley thought it would nor had he handled it in a way he’d ever imagined to before. It was strange but emboldening, finding a way around his father’s antics and conspiring with people who had truly good intentions for a change. It was risky and outrageous to a degree, yet he couldn’t stop himself from trying.

The why of it was simple, he was just too in love to be swayed or browbeaten into giving in. A strength he never knew he had but used on instinct when that love was challenged. Sure, he was tired, hungry, and beyond annoyed but none of that truly mattered. He had one principle to hold onto tonight and he’d upheld it despite everything.

Maybe this love had driven him mad or just gave him a good reason to be braver than before. Regardless Whitley held his head up high as Jacques finally returned to his seat in the limousine and they set off for home.

Though the ride may be quiet Whitley’s mind is racing, pride at his successful scheming, formulating strategies on how to avoid overly eager admirers, even bits of music swimming around in the chaos. But the most prominent in this sea of thought was how much he’d have to say on tomorrow morning's call.

Chapter 9: Mommy Meltdown

The warm rays of the sun peek through the windows, thin strains of light softly illuminating the room in patches as Willow lay sleeping in her bed. Turned over on her side with her comforter pulled down to right below her shoulders. The aristocratic woman is in a deep slumber though it’s far past daybreak, her body heavy in the sheets as it sinks into the mattress like a stone thrown into the sea. Even the sound of her bedroom door opening and her personal maid Mary entering does nothing to stir the unfortunate lady from her rest. She enters with a food cart, carrying a tray table, Willow’s breakfast, and her daily surplus of alcoholic beverages. Mary walks up to her bedside, carefully observing her charge’s physical condition to ensure her vitals are in their usual state. Checking Willow’s pulse then her temperature and finally opening her mouth to check for her breathing and look for any signs of blockage such as vomit. Luckily her airway is clear, and her breathing is normal thus Mary can commence with the final step of rubbing Willow’s temple to wake her. The motion makes her stir and after several minutes Willow awakes to a sight, she’s gotten all too familiar with, Mary standing over her with a look of indifference on her face.

Mary: Good morning, Mistress Willow.

She says, voice pleasant but impersonal like the chime of a singing greeting card or public service reminder. Still, it was nowhere near the worst wake-up call she could have.

Willow: What time is it?

She asks, sitting up and rubbing her head as the usual pain flooded in. A gentle massage to wake her followed by the sting of a hangover to keep her up was just the way Willow found herself every day.

Mary: 10:14 am, it’s sunny with a chance of high winds and snow in the evening. Master has already departed for the day and Young Master has begun his daily studies.

Willow yawns, stretching out a bit to chase away the rest of her tiredness.

Willow: Has he eaten yet?

Mary: Of course, Mistress.

Willow: Was it enough?

Mary: You know the answer to that, Mistress.

Willow sighs, resignation and self-hatred looming over her head with a quickness that lightning bolts seem slow.

Willow: I know. I was just….

She sighs again, taking off her bonnet and running her hands through her silk-white hair.

Willow: I need a drink.

Mary: Your breakfast and morning bloody mary will be served to you after you freshen up.

Willow raises an eyebrow, annoyed at the denial of her much-needed beverage.

Willow: Really Mary?

Mary: I’m simply following orders and your doctor’s recommendation.

Willow: Good lord, when did I get old enough to need this much bedside manner?

She grumbles before getting out of bed, throwing on a long flowing, elegant fur-trimmed robe over her matching long periwinkle thin strapped nightgown and sliding on her satin slippers. The soft color making her soft pearly skin appear soft and fragile like a ceramic bust. Raising to her full height Willow was tall for a woman, just like her eldest daughter, standing almost a full head taller than Mary. Her stature however did not detract from her beauty, her voluptuous figure lending to her ethereal beauty.

But that’s what Willow was and had always been.

Despite her age, multiple pregnancies, depression, sham marriage, seemingly never-ending grief, and lush lifestyle Willow remained beautiful. She’d been a lovely infant, an adorable child, a gorgeous teen, a ravishing woman, and a beautiful mother. Even in her despair, she appeared more like a morose art fixture, not a person drowning in the suffering of herself, her children, and the legacy her father left behind. It was this beauty and the pure luck of being born to a man such as Nichols Schnee that enabled her to live as she had thus far. The Queen of high society, a beauty only found once in a millennium now a recluse who really showed her face in public. As she strides over to her en-suite bathroom Willow’s strides are graceful, slippers hitting the floor without so much as a tiny squeak. She washes her face, exfoliates, and lotions her skin before brushing her teeth and combing her hair, all tasks a woman of her wealth could have others do for her, but Willow was too proud to even think of it.

She was pampered but not so much to be even think of being babied. She wouldn’t dream of being so useless regardless of her other issues, Willow had been raised too strong to let herself be coddled into that kind of sloth.

She exits the bathroom with a clay face mask on and walks toward her balcony. It was a small one in comparison to the others around the manor but that was what Willow enjoyed about it. With just enough room for a small round table and chair, she could sit outside in the cool air, read, and drink as music from her vintage record player drifts in from its spot by the balcony doors. She sits down, letting to wind kiss her skin as the mask does its magic on. After a good ten minutes, she gets up to go back inside only to find Mary standing at the doors waiting for her.

Willow: Really Mary?!

Mary: Young Master insisted that you not be alone near hazardous areas. For your own safety.

Willow sighs and goes back inside without a fuss, Mary holding the door open from her. After removing the face mask, Willow sits on her bed and is served breakfast. A hearty meal of honeyed oatmeal, frittata, and a side of chopped strawberries. Still on the cart was her morning bloody Mary, which she’d have to finish her breakfast to get to.

Taking a whiff of her meal, Willow couldn’t deny that smelled and looked appealing but her appetite for food was simply not great enough to enjoy eating it. Not that her body wasn’t pleading for it, her stomach grumbling lowly as a knot of emptiness in it tightened, Willow just couldn’t muster the desire to eat. Knowing her temperament Mary takes the drink from the tray and stands close to Willow’s bedside. She keeps the beverage right at the edge of her mistress’s peripheral vision but far enough that it’s just out of arm’s reach. The sight hits just the right notes of Willow’s habit, her mouth feeling terribly dry and her tongue flickering against her lips as if begging for a taste. Knowing she wouldn’t get her desired nectar on an empty stomach Willow eats. Slowly, hardly tasting anything, she finishes everything on her plate at a graceful pace.

When she’s done Willow looks to Mary for her well-earned drink, only for her to present the woman with a handful of pills. Her daily medication.

Hoodwinked but at Mary’s mercy Willow takes her medicine dry, huffily gulping them down a few at a time with a grimace on her face. Pouting like a child who just sucked on a lemon. Mary ignores her attitude and nods approvingly before finally rewarding her mistress with her first taste of alcohol for the day. The bloody mary is smooth but spicy, the tingle from the vodka and sauce waking her up. The taste of the fresh tomato and lemon juice is nice and refreshing like a soft summer breeze.

Just like that much of her gloominess vanishes as she sips the rest of her drink. Her headache dissipated and Willow started feeling in a standard mood. With her morning routine completed the rest of the day was Willow’s to do with as she pleased. She had no true responsibilities outside of appearing at certain events and that was only when she truly wanted to. Those were contained to a select few holidays, some events established by her father, and her children's birthday parties.

Gods the children, they were the only thing keeping Willow alive after that bastard finally admitted to tricking her. The only reason she hadn’t hung herself that nice was because it was Weiss’s birthday, and she couldn’t end her life on the same day she’d brought a life into the world. And even after that, every time she felt the urge to end it all one of them had done something to make her want to stay even if it was just for another day.

She’d think of slitting her throat with her father’s sword and she would find Winter training with it in secret. She’d think of hanging herself in the dance studio only to find Weiss practicing her ballet. Tried to jump off the balcony in the ballroom but stopping when she heard Whitley playing a song on one of her pianos. A tune she’d played for him when he was so small, she doubted that he could have remembered it but had known it by heart years later. Truly her children were her lifeline and knowing the pain of losing a mother far too soon Willow, no matter how broken she’s become, could not bring herself to die while her children still struggled.

However, this was a double-edged sword.

Willow: Mary.

She calls, the maid looking at her with her neutral gaze.

Willow: I want to go for a walk.

She states, Mary nods in agreement and goes to fetch Willow something to wear. Now the process of dressing Willow for the day was critical in judging how the day would progress. Her most common outfit was a long dark blue pencil skirt, ruffled shirt, and purple with black tights and heels. But that was not all she had in her wardrobe.

The snow-haired woman had once been known as the Queen of high society and had the appeal to match. Many designer gowns, some one-offs made specifically for her, clothing of the highest quality, and more accessories than most would see in a lifetime. Most of her more delicate pieces were kept elsewhere but her everyday wear and her jewelry stayed in her room. This catalog of clothing could act as a mood and intent indicator as Willow would dress to do what she wanted, regardless of whether she knew she was going to do it or not.

For instance, her most common outfit was meant for walks in the garden and reading in her library as she day drinks. A stark white long-sleeved blouse, dark purple waist corset, and black pants were for taking up her old sword and practicing her swing on pictures of Jaques. And her periwinkle gown with matching shawl and silver accessories was for dancing about drunkenly in the ballroom when her treacherous husband was away.

The latter two were much more rare to see as the years went on, her outrage and burst of almost hysterical jelly slowing down as the depression set in. Mary had also done her best to keep this little shift under wraps to prevent any unfortunate incidents between the unhappily married couple. Doubly so when Penny was around but now that Jaques was out more frequently, and classes had ended the chances of these outbursts occurring had risen greatly. There still hasn’t been one thus far but Mary knew better than to be optimistic in this house. It was only a matter of time.

Pulling out Willow’s usual ensemble Mary is about to carry it over to the bed.

Willow: Wait, I want my satin gown.

She insists. Mary doesn't react and returns the clothing back to the closet before retrieving Willow’s requested outfit. It’s a long strapless mermaid dress with a long slit up the right leg, the bodice decorated in sliver embroidery of the Schnee family crest recontextualized as a glittering pattern. With it is a matching shawl, a pair of white opera gloves, and a silver jewelry set. A pair of silver shoes with periwinkle gems encrusted into the design which matched the dress. This was a custom-made gift from a dear friend who had made many of Willow’s special outfits. They were still in touch though not often and Willow would periodically receive a gift from here as a sort of care package. This was one of her favorites. Mary hands the garments over to her mistress who accepts them with a low hum of approval.

Given its construction, Mary has to help Willow zip the dress up once it’s on. After that Willow has no problem putting on the rest while Mary prepares her makeup and hair care products. When she is fully dressed Mary does her makeup and puts her hair in an updo to accommodate the matching snowflake hairpin needed to complete the look. Once everything was done Willow looked in the mirror, her pale lips were painted lilac with a black liner outlying her lips, her cheeks rosy from a touch of soft blush and her eyes appeared to shimmer from her bold silver-dusted smoke eye makeup. Though no makeup could the coldness in them, the aura of death and regret was too deep to be hidden under even the deepest layer of luxury.

Still, Willow could look at herself with a little less self-pity like this. Twirling in her dress, pretending for a moment that she was still the great flower she once was and not the withering fool she’d become. After a few long glances, she looks back at Mary with a pitiful smile.

Willow: I want to go to the garden first, to greet the flowers.

Mary: Yes, ma’am.

Soon they depart. Mary leaves the food cart behind beside the door for another maid to pick up and carries the wine bottles and glasses with her as they walk. Striding down the halls every staff member they pass gazes at Willow with either silent awe or horror before quickly getting out of the way. The entirety of the staff manning the Schnee household knew to stay far away from Willow for their safety and hers. The madam of the house was an unfortunate figure, there was no one who didn’t know of her miserable situation but that hardly outweighed the emotional time bomb Willow existed as. She could start weeping then turn to shouting if her mood flipped, usually because Jacques had done something to provoke her ire. If not that then it was the depressing air around her sapping the sanity of anyone who came too close. Even now dressed in her finest her presence was painful draining.

Regardless the staff still treated her with the reverence her position demanded. Butlers hold open the doors to the garden and gardeners clear any brush from the paths as Willow strides past the rows of flora and fauna. Under the light of midday, Willow stopped to smell the flowers and ran her free hand against petals and leaves while her other held her perpetually full wine glass. This was one of her few safe places in the manor, the safest in fact due to Jacques's distaste for the loveliness of nature.

His disinterest had perplexed her back when their courtship began but Willow disregarded it as a personal preference. No couple had everything in common, even her parents had their differences, and that was hardly anything to consider about. Looking back Willow kicks herself for not looking deeper and questioning the holes in his personality sooner but it was far too late for that. Though her marriage be nothing more than a successful con crafted by a heartless leech, Willow still had her garden. A precious gift from her father and she'd enjoy it for as long as she pleased.

As she frolics, Willow stumbles upon a familiar gazebo, one that held many memories. She’d sat there with each of her children as infants after walking them through the greenery to introduce them to the wonders of nature. This is where she taught them the basics of tea parties and being a proper host, less serious etiquette lessons more of relaxed pretend play to practice. And around Mother’s Day, so long ago, her lovely children would pick flowers to make her bouquets. Yes, there were many good memories both for her as someone’s child and as someone’s mother.

She sits down and as she continues letting her mind wander down memory lane the happy thoughts soon end as the most recent of them turn grim. That being the last time she’d seen her son in the garden, tears falling down his cheeks and eyes hollow. Willow clenches her glass, a shiver of sorrow and disappointment running down her back. She could hardly remember that moment, but the vision of her son face was still clear as day. That haunting emptiness in his gaze was too much to bear. Her baby boy, her little flower Whitley was rotting, dying in front of her and there was nothing she could do to stop it. At the time she didn’t even know what or why he’d fallen apart that way but just seeing broke her heart in ways she didn’t know it could anymore. All she could do in moment was apologize, for everything and anything. She knew she was too weak to protect her children as she should have and her words were all she could offer, empty as they may be.

It was much later that she’d learned of their routine military visitor, the redhead girl she’d seen in the halls once some time ago, from Mary. She had given many details but from what she could gather the girl was pleasant and kind and her son had greatly enjoyed her company. But that had ended, no doubt Jaques had a hand in it, and that had shattered something in Whitley like nothing had before.

And why wouldn’t it?

Willow could tell from how he wept that being with the girl had made Whitley happy so much so much so that the absence of her stole all the light he had left. At least for a moment. And Willow knew that sorrow she felt creeping in from Jaques for so long until finally, the mask fell, and the love she knew was revealed as nothing but a farce. Yes, Willow knew that agony well, and seeing it in her son was like looking into a mirror. She couldn’t face that misery and broke down leaving Whitley to pick up the pieces even in his fragile state. That was the other edge of Willow's continued living for her children’s sake, her pain had become their burden.

Tears form on the edges of her eyes and not wanting to cry in her good dress, Willow downs her wine in one gulp and stands up.

Willow: I’m going to the ballroom; I want to dance under warm lights.

Mary: Yes, Mistress.

Mary agrees, filling Willow’s glass to the brim when she holds it out to her. After she takes a generous sipe they leave the garden and March towards the ballroom. The grand ballroom was always a gorgeous sight even when vacant of parties or revelry. Cleaned so often that the floors would always appear glimmering under light. Willow saunters around the room and onto the dance floor, finishing her 7th or maybe 8th glass of wine, she’d long since stopped keeping track, and hands the empty cup to Mary before issuing another decree.

Willow: I’d like some music, something cheerful and bouncy.

Mary: of course, ma’am.

Mary walks off to go explore the stereo system for appropriate music, but not before leaving a bottle of red wine and a glass behind to keep Willow busy. She gets a third of the way through the bottle when a soft orchestra melody comes pouring into the room. Willow sways to the beat, sipping away at her glass as the music plays. When her glass is once again empty Willow sets it down and begins to dance as Mary re-enters the room. The maid watches as her charge begins doing what she can only describe as a one-person waltz. Willow twirls and strides around the floor with grace and poise, the color of her gown making her movements appear whimsical. Like a butterfly fluttering against the wind, free of all humanity’s coils and unburdened by anything but its own machinations.

Ah, how glamorous. Once upon a time, Willow Schnee was always this brilliant. Basking in a seemingly endless dream.

Until she woke up.

The cackling came first, starting as soft as a whisper before getting louder and louder as Willow’s steps became erratic. Her elegant movements turn into a wobbly dance as she thrashes about, almost throwing her body around carelessly. Her mind is both muggy and racing as the alcohol and her resentment take effect.

Willow: What a waste of a life, I could have been working the happiest woman in the world. I had everything anyone could want or need and more. And yet…yet I’ve become this.

Her mind spirals as her self-deprecation bubbles up to the surface once more, this time in full bloom. She throws her head back as laughing becomes hysterical, mascara runs down her cheeks as the tears finally fall. Her becomes undone, hairpin clipping on for dear life as the mass around it unravels like its wearer’s mind.

Yet she continued to dance.

A meltdown in motion so caught up in herself that she doesn't see the passing staff members' looks of horror or notice when someone walks within her vicinity, keeping enough distance not to crash into her but close enough to be a flicker at the edge of her vision. That is until she trips over the glass she left on the floor, getting caught in the space between the shank and heel of her pumps. Crushing the glass as she stumbles, sending her towards the floor. The loss of balance and rush of air brings Willow back to reality and she braces herself for a hard fall, but she never hits the ground. Instead, she finds herself being held by thin but strong arms, face pressed against royal blue fabric. Looking up she sees Whitley, holding her tight in his arms and one leg kneeling directly on broken glass and the other keeping them steady.

Whitley: Are you alright, Mother?

He asks, voice soft and even as if he hadn’t just witnessed his mother drunkenly fall over. Willow nods yes.

Whitley: Good.

He chimes before pulling her back onto her feet, sweeping off any stray shards that might have hit her and checking to see if she’s cut. Luckily none had gotten on her and Willow was unharmed.

Whitley: Call someone to clean this up, we need to take her back to her room.

He orders Mary who stands directly behind him. She walks away to seek assistance with the mess and Whitley turns back to his mother.

Whitley: You should really be more careful. Leaving glass around like this is a recipe for disaster. Especially with how you dance.

He says with a chuckle, jokingly scolding Willow for her clumsy mistake. From there he guides her back to her room, Mary meeting them halfway. Mary cleans up her face while Whitley heads off to the kitchen to get her something to put on her stomach. He returns with a maid wheeling in a newly stocked food cart with a basket of bread, creamy soup, fried chicken coated in tomato sauce, and warm ginger ale.

Whitley: Make sure she eats as much as possible and gets some rest before she drinks again. Report back to me if her condition worsens.

The maids reply with a simple, “Yes, Young Master,” and Whitley leaves. They tend to a now calm Willow who doesn’t fight them on it.

If living for her child was a truly double-edged sword, this was the sharpest point. Her youngest, her only son Whitley had taken to caring for her in his father’s place so much so that he’d be the one train and warn much of the staff on her ailments and outbursts. Frankly, his continued care was the greatest factor in keeping Willow as well as she was.

But that only fueled her guilt.

Knowing her minor son had to cater to her needs and treat her with the patience and care his father refused to was and is profoundly demoralizing for her. Despite everything she was and could have been Willow has become a ward to the person she should have been able to protect. But she couldn’t…No, she didn’t. Willow had shut down in the wake of her life shattering and her children were left to pick up whatever pieces they could, even if they cut them deep.

Chapter 8: Worrying Winter.

The sun basks through her window, Winter has been awake long before it rose today. Her hair was down from its usual bun, and she’d still dressed in her military-issue nightwear. As per her normal routine, she starts her day with morning calisthenics. First stretches, then setup, next push-up, then a full ten minutes of planking before she’s ready for her morning shower. The water is hot, almost boiling as she lets the shower run until the heat is consistent. Once it is Winter strips and enters the shower, her well-endowed figure glistening as the water rains down on her. Despite her occupation, Winter’s body holds few scars from her many dangerous ventures as a huntswoman and soldier. Even the most notable of them seemed almost craved into her precious skin, like dull cracks in marble. Her hands glide over every inch of her body with a firm but careful touch. Her hair is washed with equal attention, the white silky strands hold no knots or tingles after her thorough cleaning.

After twenty minutes of washing Winter turns off the water and wraps a towel around herself. While still damp she begins her extensive skincare routine, exfoliating then a facial wash, and finally moisturizing both her face and body. Next, she gingerly dries her hair but putting it up in her signature bun. Clean and manicured she steps out of her bathroom in a white towel, it’s time to get dressed. Retrieving and dawning the set of undergarments from her dresser she dresses herself in her usual military regalia. Clean dressed and presentable Winter checks herself in the mirror, her face devoid of any emotion as she inspects her appearance. She is a vision of both beauty and elegance with a surly atmosphere around her that exemplifies her immense fighting prowess. From a glance, anyone who gazed at her would know she was not someone to trifle with. And very few in any kingdom she set foot in disagreed, most who did were easily proven wrong.

Except for…certain individuals. But the less said about that drunken scythe-welding bastard the better.

Though she stares, a quiet feeling of dread seeps into her. This habit of waking up early to care for her appearance was something that far predated her military service. This need to meet some unspoken expectation of perfection daily had been a ritual she’d performed since childhood, ingrained into her very being from years of high expectations. The years spent in high society, years spent under the public eye at all times, forced to be presentable and impeccable in every way at all times.

Years spent under his rule.

Even though she had grown far too old he ordered around and far too strong to be frightened into submission as she had been in her youth still Winter couldn’t help but retain some of her father’s teachings. Some days it was minimal, just a whisper in the back of her head that faded in seconds. Others it was a roaring, a screaming wave of horrid memories she did her best to bury but somehow always resurfaced.

Sometimes she could hear his voice.

Jacques: Put on a dress, those pants make your legs look lumpy and manish!

Jacques: Straighten up your back! You look like a slob hunching like that!

Jacques: Hunting?! How dare you even think of wasting my time with such savagery!

Jacques: PUT THAT SWORD AWAY! YOU HAVE NO USE FOR SUCH BARBARIC THINGS!

It was a painful screeching in her ears, rippling over every insecurity and fear she held deep in her heart. Looking into her own eyes in the mirror, Winter sees them dilate and her breath quickens, frustrated she turns away from her reflection and reaches for her sword. She holds the blade close to her chest as she desperately tries to even out her breathing. Clutching the hilt tightly, she runs her hands over it in an amateurish manner. They moved as if being guided to hold the blade properly, almost like a child being taught for the first time. She closes her eyes and tries to focus on the feel of the metal and soon the phantom touch of a hand calms her mind.

This position, this was where her hands were when her grandfather taught her how to use her semblance. He guided her hands into place and held them tight as she attempted to use her semblance, smiling and whispering words of encouragement throughout. Winter had never felt more secure than she did with her grandfather and even though she never had the courage to tell him of what was happening in their home before he passed his memory still brought her peace.

Gods, she missed him.

They all did. There wasn’t a single person without tears running down their face at his funeral.

Except for the man who got everything he wanted when that gracious man died.

But that’s why she must never forget, never let the malice burning in her die out only simmer. It gave her purpose, a reason to remain strong and levelheaded no matter what.

Calmed, Winter rises to her feet and secures her sword to the clip on her hip. She grabs and pockets her scroll, ID card, and wallet before departing her room for the canteen.

As she approached the cafeteria, bustling with the hum of many students, huntsmen, and soldiers, the stares of others followed. Her presence drops loud chatter to soft whispers if not completely silencing it. Such was the atmosphere such an elite soldier, being the general’s most trusted commander, it was only natural that most felt intimidated by the very sight of Winter.

Winter: As it should be.

She thought, looking around as she grabbed a tray and joined the mess line. It doesn’t take long for her to get to the front as her presence seems to push the others to pick out their breakfast quickly and move on as fast as possible. Once in front, she requests a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast with a side salad along with a bowl of oatmeal with fruit and a cup of black tea. After retrieving her breakfast Winter sits alone to eat, no one approaching her as she begins to eat but still eyeing her. She eats elegantly but quickly, eating a normal portion for a huntress but with such grace, it’s hard to imagine that she actually eating that much food.

When she takes a sip of her tea, she has to stifle a grimace as the flavor hits her tongue.

Winter: Ugh, they forgot to prep-check the temperature of the water again.

She grumbled inwardly as she continued to drink. Being of a wealthy background Winter was well versed in the art of tea making, much in due to her mother’s past pension for tea parties. She knew the ends and outs of what makes a good cup of tea, to the point she could taste even the slightest of flaws in any batch she drank. And this one had the simplest of beginner's mistakes, the water was boiled incorrectly. It was boiled similarly to water for the coffee, but the two drinks had different preferred temperatures for their respective flavors. The difference was too subtle for anyone but the most advert tea drinker or a tea aficionado such as herself to note so Winter ops to keep it herself and finishes her tea without outward complaint.

Once she’s done Winter cleans up her table, puts her dirty tray with the others, and goes about her usual duties. As one of Ironwood’s most trusted soldiers, when not engaged in overseas missions or combat Winter was charged with overseeing the operations of the academy and the military at large. Checking in on the status of training huntsmen, and on the current missions of soldiers around the two cities were her main tasks. It was nothing glamorous, just comparing class grades across semesters and checking in with active soldiers to make sure they were doing their jobs correctly. It mostly calls and paperwork, as she sits at her desk in her office. Very few people even knew Winter had her own office since she mostly did in-person business outside or with the general, but she honestly preferred it that way. It gave her a space to think clearly while she got things done.

She spends hours working, focusing on her task to prevent the inevitable boredom from creeping down on her. Her role had been much more active before the fall of Beacon but now with the borders closed and preparations being made for…. the inescapable evil that was slowly approaching she was left rather sedentary. She never complained about the change but that didn’t mean she didn’t have an opinion on it.

Especially since upon her return from Mistral, she was greeted with several pieces of extremely stressful news. First, that they were going to be faced with a world-destroying threat that had been dormant for years. Second, Penny Polendina was alive and well after what most would have thought to be a fatal dismembering. Third, her younger sister Weiss had run away from home, and somehow out of the kingdom without detection. And finally, because of the looming threat, she was to begin some specialized training to become the next winter maiden.

Despite her taking it well at the moment, Winter did not sleep for some time after getting that many bombshells dropped on her head. And though she wasn’t too worried about Weiss and was actually a bit relieved that Penny was okay Winter couldn’t help the weariness that came with the realization that the time to fulfill her ultimate duty to her kingdom and the world was fast approaching. She had the strength, the talent, the knowledge, and capabilities to take up this role without fail. But that wasn’t the problem.

Winter: No matter what I do she just won’t-

She groans, getting up from her desk and going for a quick walk. It was around lunchtime, but Winter rarely eats more than twice a day. Still, she peeks into the cafeteria just in time to see Penny enter. She watches her converse with the students and staff before getting her lunch and heading to the outdoor tables. Winter found it odd given how social the girl was, but it wasn’t her place to judge.

However, a small part of her was a little impressed by her communication skills. The affable android had been primarily raised in a lab but was always extremely cordial with anyone who’d give her the time of the day, sometimes to an annoyed degree due to her lack of social grace. But recently she’d been more…courtly and tactful in her socialization than before. Her overstepping with questions and boundary-pushing via invading personal space had slowly but surely disappeared and her manner of speaking seemed to adapt to the atmosphere now. It was subtle but oddly familiar to Winter, in a way that just needled at the back of her head. As if her subconscious was poking at her memory banks for the train of recollection to put this bizarre sense of déjà vu into context.

Now Winter would never bother Penny with something so trivial as a personal matter, but she did inquiry about to Ironwood not too long ago. The interaction was..interesting to say the least.

A week prior to today Winter was standing in General Ironwood going over some paperwork when the topic of students shifting attitudes.

Winter: It seems that morale is plummeting amongst the new recruits.

Ironwood: Understandable, given the state of things. Don’t worry too much about it, I’ve already prepared something to help calm the academy stress level for a little while.

Winter: Have you green-lit another concert for Team FNKI?

Ironwood: Yes. It’s been a while and they’ve been itching to perform again. Besides, nothing soothes the souls in wartime more than good music.

Winter: True. But I have also noticed there’s somewhat of a spike in morale during lunch hours.

Ironwood: Again understandable, it’s a break time to recharge and eat.

Winter: Yes, but I’ve noticed there’s some correlation between that spike and Ms. Polendia’s newly instated lunch break.

Ironwood: I can imagine.

He says with a chuckle, setting his pen down and settling into a more relaxed position in his chair before continuing.

Ironwood: Penny’s a friendly chatty ball of positive energy, her company is just…comforting.

Winter: I understand but the way she’s been interacting with others just seems more well-rounded and auspicious than before.

Ironwood: So, you believe the spike is related to a change in her socializing?

Winter: It’s more so that her ability to converse has vastly improved. It is such a far cry from her previous behavior but still so in line with her personality. It’s almost as if she’s been coached on it.

Ironwood takes a sip of his coffee to try to stifle a laugh but ends up snorting into it, getting lukewarm coffee all over his mouth and in his bread.

Winter: General!

Ironwood: I’m fine! I’m fine!

He chimes half laughing and coughing as he grabs a tea towel from his desk and cleans himself off. Once he’s got himself together again, Ironwood looks at Winter with a gentle, almost amused gaze.

Ironwood: You’re right, she has been tutored on her people skills but not for the reasons you’re thinking.

Winter: And what exactly is this reason?

Ironwood chuckles again, hands moving to type something on his scroll.

Ironwood: Why don’t you see for yourself, I’m sending you the reports on her lessons. Give it a read when you have time.

Winter: Yes, Sir.

Ironwood: And for your own sake, please look it over somewhere private.

Winter: Of course, Sir.

And that was the last they’d spoken of the matter, Winter receiving the documents the same day. She had them printed out but hadn’t found the time to sit down and read them. Currently, the stack of papers was sitting in a drawer in her room collecting dust. The idea of reading it as she strides down the hall to her next task, just to get some context, but decides to hold off until later as she matches towards the most important part of her day.

Through a route, few knew of and many security checkpoints Winter reaches the most well-protected building in the academy and the kingdom.

The chamber of the winter maiden, protector of the tundra kingdom, and keeper of the staff of creation.

Once upon a time, Winter had believed this person to be nothing but a myth, a character in a story long twisted from countless retellings over centuries. A fairytale to give hope to children in a world where monsters hunt by the smell of fear and would tear them apart if not for the strength of a selected few who could combat them. But now, she knew it was far too real.

It was a shock, really, meeting this woman so long-lived she wondered if her grandfather had known her in his youth. Freya, a hero whose name would live on only in the files held at the academy just as her predecessor before her. She’d been an artist beforehand, with a weak aura and a less-than-notable semblance before she’d been chosen by the previous maiden. No one, not even Freya herself, knew why she was chosen by the last winter maiden. She had not had the time to speak of her choice before her demise nor to even choose a successor beforehand. So sudden was her passing that it only advanced the shock of the girl she’d chosen to take her mantle in her final hour.

Despite that Freya served her kingdom well all these years, even while sitting on what she knew would be her deathbed. She won’t make the last maiden’s mistake; no Freya would refuse the reaper’s call until she knew in her heart of hearts that the next girl in line for these powers would wield them with safety, pride, and love their kingdom in mind. Someone could do well, far better than she did in her years with them.

And that’s why Winter was there, as grim as it sounds. She was training to be and engaging with the winter maiden in order to take her place. Ironwood had insisted they get to know each other well before the time came so Freya could die without regret, safe in the knowledge she’d left her kingdom in good hands.

Ironwood: It’s the least we can do.

He’d told her, reassuring both white-haired women as they faced this sensitive issue. He’d even taken the time to debrief both on each other’s lives to the best of his abilities and encouraged them to get to know each other.

But that’s where the problems began.

As Winter enters the room with Freya’s meal, she’s met with the same apathetic gaze she was more than used to from the elder woman. She walks over to her bedside and holds the tray of food in one hand while the other pulls out the built-in tray table from the side of the bed. Once’s it up she sets the meal down in front of Freya and steps back.

Winter: Here you go.

She says politely, face still in its natural neutral state as she speaks. Freya glances at her and then at her food.

Freya: Is the other girl coming?

The elderly maiden asks, voice tired and impassive. Winter nods in adverse.

Winter: No, not today.

Freya sighs and begins to eat in silence. This was the biggest challenge the conversion had faced since the beginning. While Freya knew how capable and determined Winter was, and all the tales of her formative she’d been willing to share the woman just didn’t enjoy her presence in the slightest. In fact, she disliked Winter from the moment she met her, not unimpressed by her amazing feats of duty in the name of Atlas but rather disillusioned by her personality. No matter how they tried to get Freya to empathize with Winter the woman just wouldn’t budge.

Though she understood the greatness of her abilities, Freya could not come around to her. Even after hearing Winter's life story Freya found herself not as compelled by it. Instead, she’d noted something in the girl’s behavior that no one else had noticed or had refused to. Outside of physical conflicts, Winter was detached from almost everything and held no true personal ties outside what was absolutely necessary. She held nothing dear and cared for nothing but that was a given with how she grew up.

Still, Freya could not trust something this important to someone like her, not to a coward. Because of this reluctance, Freya had lived far past her expected death date and seemingly held strength out of pure spite. She didn’t believe in Winter and refused to die until she could or found someone she could believe in. Thus began the long quiet of their session, Winter tending to Freya in almost complete silence on good days and through cold tantrums on bad days.

After ensuring Freya is well-fed, exercised, and rested Winter leaves to do her daily physical training regimen. Even with Freya’s silent aversion to her, Winter still had to ready her body for the day she’d receive the winter maiden powers. The strength of the ice and cold winds was not to be trifled with and she needed to be prepared to receive it and return to battle as fast as possible.

It mostly involves pushing her agility, balance, and aim to their limits as lacking in even one of those abilities could be disastrous when wielding something like the elements. Ice especially due to its duality of being both extremely strong and brittle. Once she’s done with her training and work Winter gets some dinner to take to her room. It had been a long day and she wanted some alone time.

She returns to her room with a bowl of creamy chicken soup with a pork chop, and a side of steamed vegetables and rice, along with several pieces of bread. The food was piping hot, so Winter took a quick shower before sitting down to eat. Start with the soup, Winter takes a careful spoonful to test the taste and heat. The broth is creamy with a soothing undertone of root vegetables and chicken but still a little too hot to eat say yet. She stirs her soup lazily with her spoon for a while until it cools until it’s at a good temperature. She eats the bread between spoonfuls, loving the taste and texture of it melts into the soup on her tongue. Once her bowl is empty, she moves on to the pork chop and steamed vegetables and rice. The pork chop was breaded and fried with a dash of gravy so Winter cut the meat into bite-size pieces and scooped one onto her fork with each bite of vegetables and rice. The gravy soaking into the rice gives each bite a nice meaty taste, making the rather bland steamed vegetables go down easily.

When she’s done with her food, Winter puts her dish aside to take down in the morning. She’s about to go brush her teeth but finds she’s still a little peckish. She debates just going to sleep but it’s not too late in the evening. That and she still has those documents to read. So, she settles on having a light snack and some tea while reading.

From a small storage box in the corner of her room, she retrieved some provisions. A few boxes of high-brand tea, a couple bottles of spring water, a singer jar, and a tin box of cookies from a small bakery not too far from the academy. Was it a bit excessive? Yes, but she couldn’t really help herself. Though it’s just a small luxury held many good memories for her. One of the last times she saw her mother Willow in a good state of mind before the truth was revealed and the façade of a happy family went down the drain, with her mother finding comfort at the bottom of wine bottles. As to why she hides these treasures, this was the military, and she would be absolutely livid if someone tried to steal some or beg for something.

Filling her electric kettle with spring water, Winter retrieves a teacup and picks a flavor of tea to drink. Chamomile was good for sleep, but Winter didn’t want to get drowsy while reading and she’d already had black tea today. Ginger lemon was good for digestion, but the spicy undertones don’t go well with sweets, and since she was having cookies, she didn't want to have anything too overly sweet or fruity either so honey and berry flavors were out too. Looking through the boxes she finds a tin of oolong she’d forgotten about, an impulse purchase from her last mission abroad. The tin had a traditional Mistral tea wear design in pale white and deep blue. It was such a great match to her natural coloring and aesthetics that Winter couldn’t help but pick it up before even reading the label. Still, she wasn't one to waste a good product, and since oolong had a similar bold but lighter flavor than green it would go well with tonight's treats. Putting the leaves in the defuser and into the cup then pouring the hot water into the cup, she sits down with documents as she waits for the tea to steep.

The first page isn’t anything of note, Winter had known of Penny’s mission in Atlas for some time, and most of the general details of how that investigation went. But there were some blanks she’d never asked to be filled, like who was their lead into high society. Those blanks were filled with a shoot of dread as Winter reads the address of where Penny received her etiquette lessons.

Winter: What?!

That manor, the place she once called home until the illusion shattered, Penny had been going in and out as a visit almost daily for months!

Winter: But how?! Why?!

Winter’s breath hitched; she knew Ironwood would never ever let her father near an innocent soul if he could help it! He was the one who gave her the chance to run to freedom and help Weiss get as far away as she could!

Winter: Why would he let her go there?! How could this-

Her thoughts are stopped when she reads the name of Penny’s tutor, it’s a name she knew well but hadn’t graced her lips in far too long.

Winter: Whitley?

She says aloud, puzzled as to how her only brother had become part of this. Reading further she discovers the life debt Whitley had incurred from Penny and the political deal that followed. This calms her slightly, her father using someone’s goodwill to gain an edge was as much a fact of life to her as needing air to breathe. And though the connotations of him gaining political power gave her shivers, it was hardly the biggest issue she had to deal with right now. Pausing to finish preparing her tea and opening her tin of cookies, Winter gets comfortable before resuming her reading.

As she goes from the formative details into the lesson plans and progress reports Winter finds herself immersed in the text. The way of writing in each report was so uniquely Whitley she could almost hear his voice reading in her ears. Seeing the effect and time he took into teaching Penny was so… interesting. The way he taught wasn’t anything like they’d grown up with at all, it was customized to work with Penny’s learning style. More hands-on work and promoted in ways that feed off her thirst for knowledge and growth. Breaks were offered if needed along with snacks, things people would expect from the upper class but were something none of the three siblings had experienced at all. The entries that stand out the most are the practical one's elite harassment, something she’d never been prepared for and suffered greatly from in her youth. The work he put into making sure Penny could survive and thrive was more than Winter could have ever hoped out of anyone, especially her brother.

In some ways, he seemed the most like their father as they got older. At least that’s what Winter remembered.

To be fair she hadn’t paid him much attention since she joined the military and started training Weiss. The most recent memories she had of him were just passing glances and hearing catty remarks she couldn’t even recall. The clearest recollections she had of him she had were from years ago. She could still remember holding him for the first time, his tiny hand wrapped around her pinky finger and his bright little eyes looking up at her with all the innocence in the world. She could still hear him leading his scales on the piano, trying to catch you with her and Weiss so they could play together like a little band. She recalled how he used to sneak her his portion of the snacks he didn’t like when they had tea, trying his best not to slip over their grandfather’s cape as he reached over to her plate. All because he didn’t like cucumbers but didn’t want to waste it.

He was so precious to her then, so sweet despite everything going on around them. And from what she could gleam he was still that sweet boy in some ways even after everything turned out so horrible.

When did he stop being that way? Or rather when did she stop seeing it? Seeing him, her own little brother as himself.

Winter: Just when he did become this grown up?

Chapter 7: Wandering with you.

Clothes lay scattered across her bed as Penny searched through her closet. The night Whitley texted her they’d spent hours after dinner planning this meet-up. Jacques was heading out again and the weather was going to be nice all weekend, so they’d have plenty of time to spend together. Whitley had been cooped up in the manor for a while, so Penny had suggested they go to the park and get some fresh air together.

Penny: I know a nice one nearby. It has an ice rink, a big playground, and some picnic tables. We can go ice skating and get lunch from one of the street vendors!

She proposed, Whitley ruminated on the suggestion for a moment. He hadn’t been to a park in over a decade but the thought of skating with Penny did tickle his fancy too much to refuse.

Whitley: Should I bring my own skates?

He quips with a smile. With the location picked out and a time frame sorted the only thing left to do for Penny was pick out an outfit! It wasn’t too cold out but there was still snow on the ground so pants or leggings would be best if she was going to be doing physical activities. Being a skirt lover Penny looked through all her causal clothes for a suitable one, as she searched, she recalled the stylish cold-weather outfit she’d picked up at Stellar oh so long ago. Putting the pieces together and looking them over as set Penny decides to swap out the yellow boots for her brown winter boots so she can be steady on her feet instead of risking stumbling while breaking in the higher heels. She also switches out the compass-themed accessories for her silver brooch to better match her deep blue blouse. She dawns her outfit then checks herself out in the mirror and after a few adjustments everything looks great. Now on to hair, since she’s gonna be active a simple high ponytail works fine. And as a final touch, she applies a coat of cherry lipgloss to her lips, a little something she picked up at the store earlier in the week. It’s a small touch that adds a lovely little shine to her appearance.

With that Penny’s ready to go, placing her necessities into the large pockets of her coat and heads downstairs. Her dad had gone up to the academy to help run some diagnostics on the mechas stationed at the border earlier that day, so Penny locks up the house before leaving. She practically skips all the way to the station and seems to sway as she stays outside waiting for Whitley.

Whitley himself was just as excited, sitting on the train bound for the lower city. He’d dressed a little more carefully this time, adding a blue and gray plaid sweater vest and low leather boots to his ensemble along with a satchel. Inside this satchel was a pair of ice skates, ones he hadn’t used in some time but luckily still fit. He’d spent more than an hour the night before checking and prepping them for today. After browbeating Mary into sneaking him the needed material, Whitley had polished the skates to perfection and even sharpened up the blades to ensure they’d been in peak form. He holds them tightly in his lap as the train car slowly comes to a stop at its destination.

Stepping out onto the platform and into the station Whitley wades through the crowd to the exit. He debates trying to sneak up on Penny again but is spotted before he can come to a decision.

Penny: Hey! Over here!

She calls out, waving him over from the closet street corner. Whitley turns and bolts straight for her, throwing the satchel straps over one shoulder as he goes straight for a hug. As soon as they make contact Whitley lays his head in the crack of Penny’s and breathes in deep. Taking in her essence and breathing out all the stress he’d been storing, Whitley feels instantly lighter. Her soothing presence and comforting scent putting him completely at ease. Penny wraps her arms around his shoulder and neck, giggling a little when his hair tickles her cheek.

Whitley: Gods, I missed you.

He whispers sweetly, Penny’s cheeks heat up as she responds in kind.

Penny: Missed you too.

After a long embrace they part, Whitley stealing another longing glaze and immediately notices the tent of pink on Penny’s lips.

Whitley: What’s this?

He asks, grasping Penny’s chin with his hand and tilting it upwards to get a better look. The gloss shimmers as Whitley holds a teasing finger right under her bottom lip.

Whitley: Is this-(chuckles)-are you wearing makeup?

Penny: J-just some lipgloss.

She stammers in response, face glowing beet red as she gently pushes Whitley’s hand away. He smirks at her reaction and then holds out an arm to her.

Whitley: Shall we?

Penny links her arm with his with a soft smile and they two begin their trek to the park. Thankfully it doesn’t take long as Penny guides them through the quickest route. The park itself looks like a stretch of pathways surrounded by deep snow, grass barely peeking out from the depths of it. There’s hardly anyone around besides some elderly people sitting on benches, playing chess on the public boards, or feeding the few flocks of birds that congregate in the area. Some wave as they pass when they notice Penny, a few inquiring about the young man she’s with. Phrases like “Who’s this?” “Is he a friend of yours?” “Is that your boyfriend?” and more are repetitively hurdled at Penny as they walk through the park. She brushes them off and tries to hurry past to avoid more prying while Whitley quietly chuckles under his mask, playfully waving back as they wade through the wave of nosy old people. Eventually, they reach their destination, the ice rink and playground.

The playground was nothing remarkable, just a metal jungle gym, some swings, seesaws, and monkey bars. Children were playing about all over the place, all dressed in thick winter coats that hardly seemed to slow down the running, jumping, and playing as the little ones enjoyed the snow-covered landscape. Opposite to that was the equally bustling ice rank where the older parkgoers make their best attempts at skating around the rink. Most just do careful rotations while others try to pull off tricks. Couples young and old hold hands as they skate together, teens do dumb tricks that raise the ire of the custodians working who promptly yell at them to knock it off and children hold on to training frames as their parent helps them get the hang of things.

Penny’s eyes shine in excitement at the sight of so many people out enjoying the day, meanwhile, Whitley is less than impressed. This was honestly the shabbiest rink he’d ever seen, completely outdoors with loaner skates that had been in circulation for five years at the least and a main building that most likely hadn't been renovated in the last decade. But seeing Penny’s excitement he pushes all that aside, as long as she’s happy and at his side the venue doesn’t matter.

Whitley: So, you ready to go skating or-

Penny: Yes!

She interrupts him, eagerness practically beaming off her.

Whitley: Okay then little miss go-getter, why don’t you go get some skates and I’ll meet you on the rink?

Penny: Okay! I’ll be right back! Don’t start without me!

She exclaimed joyfully before running off to the counter to borrow a pair of skates. Getting in line with others Penny waits patiently for her turn as others ahead of her get their skates and head to the ice.

Rink Attendant: Next.

The attendant calls as the last person in front of Penny steps out of the way, letting her move up to the front.

Penny: Hello! I like to borrow a pair of ice skates, please!

She asks, the slightly disinterested teen attendant gives her half a gaze before pushing a clipboard with the sigh in form over to her but pauses when he realizes who’s in front of him.

Rink Attendant: What the-are you are-are you the flying huntress lady? Penny, right?

Penny: Yes, that’s me.

Rink Attendant: Holy crap, you’re like a local hero! My little cousin is crazy about you, he won’t shut up about seeing you around town!

Penny: Aw, really? What’s his name?

Rink Attendant: Georgy.

Penny thinks for a moment, combing through her memories for a child with that name. And soon she finds it, recalling the face of a particularly excitable little boy among one of the groups of children she sees almost daily.

Penny: Oh, little Georgy. He should be turning seven this month, right?

Rink Attendant: Yeah, tomorrow actually! How’d you know?!

Penny: He told me the last time I helped his class cross the street to their elementary school, he was passing out invitations while in line. Please tell him I said happy birthday.

Rink Attendant: I will trust me I will! So, what did you need again?

Penny: Ice skates, please.

Rink Attendant: Alright, alright, what’s your shoe size?

Penny: Six and a half.

Rink Attendant: Okay, just put down your first and last name and your scroll number here and I’ll be right back with your skates.

Penny: Okay.

Penny notes down her name and number while the attendant goes over to the rack of skates and finds a pair in her size. After a few minutes, he returns and puts the skates on the counter.

Rink Attendant: Here you go, just remember to bring them back when you’re done.

Penny: Of course, thank you.

Penny grabs the skates and turns to walk away, as she’s leaving the attendant calls out to her.

Joey: Be the way my name’s Joey!

He half shouts, the attendant at the snack bar shaking her head disapprovingly. Penny, being no stranger to gaining admiration from her citizens, looks back at him and smiles.

Penny: Thanks again, Joey. I promise to return these in the best state possible.

She beams before running back over to the rink. Going up to the opening closest to the entrance, Penny spots Whitley standing in wait, holding onto the side while wearing his skates. He notices her approaching and waves her over.

Whitley: There you are, I thought you’d gotten lost again.

Penny: Sorry, the line was longer than I expected, I also met a relative of a fan of mine and made some light conversation.

Whitley: A fan? I didn’t know I was dating a celebrity.

He jests, Penny giggles at his joke as she sits down and removes her shoes.

Penny: I’m not a celebrity say per se, just very active in the protection of the city and the safety of its citizens. People took notice of my efforts and appreciate me for it.

Whitley: I see. So aside from being a great student, model soldier, and an amazing partner, you’re also a pillar of your community. Is there anything you can’t do?

He states with a wink, garnering another giggle as well as a blush from Penny while she pulls the skates onto her feet and starts tying the laces. Looking between them it’s obvious Whitley’s skates are the superior pair. White leather, in perfect condition with blades sharp enough to cut through the ice like butter. Meanwhile, Penny’s loaners were a worn dingy brown color that had clearly seen better days, the blades being the only saving grace on them. Penny is far too excited to notice or care about that whole Whitley silently contemplates getting her a pair as a gift for the next time they go skating. But before he can start thinking about what color she’d prefer; Penny gets up and attempts to stand in her skates.

Penny: Okay, they’re on! Now let’s-Whoa!

But she quickly loses her balance, Whitley quickly moving forward to catch her arm and help her stand up straight before she can fully tumble to the ground. Holding onto his arm, Penny has trouble keeping her footing on the thin blades.

Whitley: Easy, easy, just take it one step at a time.

Whitley advises, holding onto to Penny with on arm and the side of the rink with the other. Penny nods cautiously and slowly starts taking baby steps toward the rink, never letting Whitley’s hand go for a second. Her excitement quickly turns to nervousness as Penny’s never felt this unsteady on her feet before, legs shaking with apprehension at every step. She moves at a snail’s pace, inch by inch, and watches her feet until she’s right up against Whitley at the entrance to the rink. Seeing the tension in her movements Whitley gently steps back onto the ice and takes her other hand in his, gently guiding her out with him.

Whitley: Penny.

He calls, trying to distract her from her fear but it goes unheard.

Whitley: Penny!

He repeats, this time more forcefully. This does manage to grab her attention as Penny’s graze jerks up from the ground and onto Whitley.

Whitley: Keep your head up. You can’t see where you’re going if you keep looking down like that.

Penny: O-okay.

Whitley: Good, now relax. If you’re stiffen up like that, you’ll lock your knees and fall.

Penny: O-okay, okay.

Penny takes a few deep breaths and tries to relax her body, still holding onto Whitley as they stand on the ice. Once she stops shaking and her breathing evens out Whitley continues.

Whitley: Calm now?

Penny: Yeah.

Whitley: Great…Are you ready to try and move?

Penny hesitates for a moment, looking down at her feet again before looking back at Whitley. He seems so calm; his gaze is so soft as he stares at her, and his hands caress her arms gently. His demeanor is just so serene and comforting Penny wanted to dive straight into his arms and hold him close. But being in public and knowing she’d never get skating if she did, with a look of pure determination Penny nods yes.

Whitley: Okay. First things first, put your dominant foot forward.

Penny nods and cautiously puts her right foot forward.

Whitley: Okay, now I need you to lean your weight towards me and push forward.

Penny: Just move forward on only one foot?

She asks starting back down at her feet then looks back up, her nerves clearly getting to her again. Whitley, overcome with compassion and worry, tries to reassure her.

Whitley: It doesn’t have to be much, just do whatever you’re comfortable with. You can hold onto me for leverage, and make sure to raise your other foot as push off.

Penny: Okay.

Penny takes a big deep breath in, shuts her eyes, and pushes forward, Whitley moving backward to match her step. When she realizes she hasn’t fallen yet, opens her eyes and peeks around to see that she is still standing. Relieved and reassured Penny looks to Whitley with a smile, as if asking to take another step.

Whitley: Now the other.

He chimes, encouraging her to keep moving. She pushes off on her left foot and they move forward a bit. Feeling more confident, Penny keeps moving forward, her stripes getting bigger as they go. Through this, Whitley continues to hold her, moving backward at her pace with ease. As they skate along the long side of the rink Penny grows more comfortable and relaxes into the rhythm of their movements. It’s smooth sailing until they close in on one of the bends, Whitley looking back ahead of them to see how close they are to the curve.

Whitley: Okay, we’re coming up on a turn.

Penny: Oh no!

Penny’s eyes dilate with fear, but Whitley quickly reassures her.

Whitley: It’s okay. Just gently lean your weight away from the curve, I’ll help you balance.

Penny: Are you sure I won’t fall?!

Whitley: I promise you won’t, trust me.

Penny nods and as they hit the turn, she leans with Whitley, and they glide around the rounded edge of the rink. As they drift Penny stares into Whitley’s eyes, they glimmer with absolute admiration and trust as they gaze into hers. The look gives her peace of mind as they reach the other end of the curve.

Whitley: There we go. Now straight back up.

He chirps, causing Penny to giggle as they straighten out again. They glide around the rink a few times until Penny seems comfortable with her skating, only then does Whitley let go of one of Penny’s hands and skate alongside her. As they drift leisurely across the ice, Penny can’t help but gaze at the other skaters. Specifically, she looks in awe of the more seasoned ice dancers practicing their craft nearby. One girl, in particular, grabs her attention as the dancer moves closer to the center of the rink and performs a lay-back spin. The girl arches beautifully as twirls in one skate, tutu over her thermos haloing her waist as she spins. This display garners the amusement and astonishment of many on the rink, including Penny who releases of Whitley’s hand to applaud her. Seeing her attention taken off him, Whitley feels a tiny tinge of jealousy.

Whitley: It’s not that impressive, her execution was poor, and she could barely keep her form for more than a few seconds. I could do better.

He really could, Whitley was well-versed in the art of figure skating. Having spent years being trained by many master skaters alongside Weiss and Winter as part of their formative education. His skill was a performance level and though he hardly used this skill the training had been so intense most of the move set he was taught had been committed to muscle memory. And with a glint of playfulness in his eyes, Whitley moves away from Penny and towards the inner parts of the rink. Penny reaches out to with a confused expression on her face but Whitley just shots her wink and strides onward.

Whitley opens up his coat and increases his speed as he does a half routine around the rink before turning around and doing a backflip, landing elegantly on one leg. He then slides into a camel spin, upper body and left leg up in a horizontal position as he spins with his right. Once he spins out Whitley skates backward for a good distance until he builds up the momentum for a waltz jump into a double salchow then a triple axel.

Penny watches on in pure amazement, as do many of the other skaters on the rink. Seeing these reactions Whitley goes further and shows off his best footwork before capping his performance with a layback spin that folded into a sitting spin. There’s a small round of applause from the onlookers, Penny being the most enthusiastic as she fights the urge to jump up and down while clapping her heart out. Whitley notes her eagerness as he takes a dramatic bow before skating back to her side.

Penny: That was amazing!!!

Whitley: Thank you.

He says with a smirk, relishing in the brilliant sparkles of astonishment in Penny’s eyes.

Penny: I knew you were a good dancer, but this is a completely different art!

Whitley: Figure skating is a common aristocratic hobby in cold climates and as a child of affluence I’ve been in skates as long as I’ve been in dancing shoes.

Penny: Really?! Are there any other hidden talents you haven’t told me about?

She asks both teasingly and curiously, her sense of wonder greatly perked at the discovery of her boyfriend’s ice-dancing prowess.

Whitley: Of course, there are. But where’s the fun in just telling you?

He chirps before skating away, Penny following close behind. Their conversation continues as they glide around the rink.

Penny: So how many are there?

Whitley: Of what?

Penny: Your talents I don’t know.

Whitley: Hmm, hard to say. There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me and I’m not too keen to share them yet.

Penny: Can you a least give me an estimate?

Whitley: And ruin the mystic of our relationship? Never!

He spouts in a fake dramatic tone, faux gobsmacked look, and his face and hand over his heart to aid his theatrics. Penny sighs and presses on.

Penny: Are you really that unwilling to tell, or do you just not trust me to know?

Whitley: What?

Penny: It’s okay if that’s why, I understand your reasoning. Just because we’ve grown close to each other doesn't mean that our trust in each other is absolute.

Whitley: Wait, that's not it at all!

He stops dead in his tracks, halting Penny in hers, and the two stand face-to-face on the ice.

Whitley: Look, Penny, there’s just-(sigh)-there’s a lot of things going on at home for right now and there’s a lot of history there I just…I just don’t think you’re ready to know just yet.

Penny: I…I know.

Whitley: I do trust you, Penny. I love being that I can be myself, my true self with you. And while I’d love to tell you…everything about me there’s just…

Whitley sighs, the weight of all the horrors in his life becoming unbearably heavy as he tries to speak. He takes her hands in his, holding them tenderly as he gazed directly onto her eyes.

Whitley: There are just some things that are better left unsaid for the time being.

Penny: I-I…uh..

Penny’s breath hitches and she feels a chill up her spine. She knew Whitley had his secrets, Penny had her own, but with all the understanding and kindness he’d given her, she couldn't help the cloud of guilt that hung over her head. And knowing now that it was only a matter of in when not if made that cloud hung more like a guillotine’s blade, the rope holding it up slowly being cut away by Whitley’s continued earnestly.

How ironic, the girl who could tell no lies was suddenly terrified by incoming truths.

Seeing the uncertainty on her face Whitley reaches up to caress one of her cheeks, concerned that he’d accidentally hit a sore spot for her.

Whitley: I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-

Penny: Hey, can you teach me some of your skating moves?!

Penny asks her face lit up with normal joyous enthusiasm, all hints of worry seemingly blasting themselves off her in a fraction of a second. Whitley is taken aback at the tone shift, usually, he’s the one to cut the conversation when things got too heavy but today Penny had beaten him to the punch.

Whitley: Really?

Penny: Yes! I really want to try the spins! They looked so fun!

Whitley: Well, those aren’t beginner-level tricks. Maybe we can try something simpler like a bunny hop.

Penny: Bunny hop? What’s that?!

Whitley demonstrates, doing a little hop from one place to another without losing balance. Penny’s immediately invested and soon their date turns into a short beginner ice skating lesson. The tense of their previous discussion dies down but the sting of it lingers as both try hard to push passed it. After a couple of hours on the rink, it's lunchtime. Penny turns in her skates, Joey assisting her again and tries to slide her a small slip of paper with his number on it, but Whitley’s quick hands and icy gaze dashes the attempted flirt before Penny can even notice. With that settled the couple considered their options, Penny volunteering the snack bar as the quick and easy pick. Whitley quickly rejects this on the ground that their hot chocolate was made with mostly hot water and the condiment dispenser looked like it hadn't been cleaned in weeks which Penny agrees with. So they go with the original plan, cart vendors. One of the things Soltais was prided on, especially when it came to tourism, was its status as a winter wonderland. Beautiful snow fell often, meaning there was always a chance for winter games and winter foods that the rest of the world only enjoyed in mass during their cold seasons. This extended to food vendors all over both cities, and with it being lunchtime Penny and Whitley don’t have to go far to find some. Carts serving mini meat pies, hot sandwiches, soups, and many more warm delights were common places in parks and shopping areas in Mantle. And being in the lower city on a weekend meant some interesting vendors could be found. Foreign vendors from all over the globe would petal their offerings around heavily populated areas in both but Mantle’s were known for being both convenient and inexpensive without a loss in taste.

With no lack of options, Penny and Whitley wander for a moment, searching for something good to eat. In their searching, the cries of one particular vendor catches Penny’s attention.

Vendor: Corn Dog! Nice Thick, Hot, and Cheesy Mistrial Style Corn Doges!

He cries, Penny looks over at his setup and is a little surprised. It’s larger than the normal hotdog stands, with a pot of batter and a fryer built into it along with a session for toppings which themselves are unusual. Sliced potatoes, crushed-up spicy chips, even corn cereal and sugar. It’s only when the next person in line for the stand orders does Penny understands the big difference between this corn dog and a regular one as the vendor reaches into the small refrigerator and pulls out two long chopsticks both skewered with half with a beef sausage and half mozzarella cheese. After the vendor dunks the skewers into the batter and spins them around to gather up a good coat, he drops them right into the boiling fry oil. The smell the frying gives off is oddly sweet, almost like a donut, which draws Penny in even more. Once the pair is done cooking the vendor pulls them out and places them on paper serving boats before sprinkling on sugar and spraying on lines of ketchup and mustard. The sight is mouth-watering, and the very easily excitable Penny can’t help but Whitley over to share her discovery. Whitley is…less than eager about her findings, he hadn’t really had junk food in years and honestly was too well-versed in nutrition to actively seek it out. But the smell coming off the stand was delightful, and he was already breaking many of his father’s rules just by being here, so what’s the harm in having a little treat?

They get in line and order two, one regular and one with potatoes, and sit down at a nearby bench to eat. Penny takes the original style while Whitley has the potato fried, as per usual Penny blows on her to cool it before her excitement and takes a premature bite. It’s hot, crunchy, and gooey as her teeth break through the crust and into the melted cheese underneath. The condiments give it a multilayered undertone as the sugar combines with the tangy ketchup and mustard. It’s a wonderful flavor mix, dancing on Penny’s tongue as she buffs and puffs to cool it down before swallowing. Hungry and entranced by Penny’s display of enjoyment Whitley also takes a hesitant bite. At first, there’s an odd sense of nostalgia as his taste buds are hit with a familiar flavor. It’s potato fritters, something his mother would sneak him and his sisters when they went out with her father before he became too ill to get out of bed. It’s a comforting flavor that is only amplified by the cheese and condiments. As they eat, Penny accidentally gets a nice cheese stretch going as she pulls back from a bite. Intrigued she pulls it further away only for the stringy cheese to stretch longer and longer. The feat amuses her greatly and she turns to show Whitley the silly situation she’s in.

Penny: Hmm!

She mutters, holding the other end of the cheese rope in her mouth while holding the source in Whitley’s face to see. Whitley chuckles at the ridiculous mess she’s made then without even two seconds of thought he bites off the other end from the corndog and sucks the string of cheese into his mouth. Now connected to her by a thin thread of mozzarella Whitley immediately started eating the cheese, carefully gnawing so the string wouldn't break as he got closer and closer to Penny’s mouth. Said girl is completely stunned by yet another bold move from her boyfriend, only regaining her sense when his lips are only centimeters from touching hers. Once out of her trance, Penny bites down hard, cuts the string from her end, and slurs up the remaining cheese. Whitley smirked at her shyness and finished off the rest of his half of the string before continuing to eat his corn dog.

Once lunch is over, they play in the snow for a bit. Penny rolls up big balls of snow for the snowman while Whitley gathers sticks and stones to decorate it. He smoothes out some of the shapes while Penny stacks the snow and they put the face on together. The first is a nicely made traditional snowman, minus the black top hat, festive scarf, and carrot nose.

Whitley: And he’s done. Not too bad for a locally sourced snowman if I do say so myself.

Penny: He looks so good, there’s hardly any big lumps or cracks in him either!

Whitley: You're welcome, smoothing him out without damaging his structure wasn’t easy but I think he was worth the effort.

Penny: Thank you for your contribution, Whitley, I really appreciate it. Now what do we name him?

Whitley: I’m not sure, mind throwing out some suggestions?

Penny: Hmm.

Penny thinks for a moment, names were a very subjective topic. The standard changes depending on what was being named. Animals could be named after people, food, and objects due to being living creatures but objects were significantly less emotionally precious to be given such monikers. Most often an object is named in relation to what it is. Racking her brain for everything snow-related, Penny comes up with a short list of possible names.

Penny: Snowdrop?

Whitley: That’s a little too feminine for a snowman.

Penny: Snowburg?

Whitley: I believe that’s the name of festive festive-themed glass workshop.

Penny: Snowdust?

Whitley: That’s the street name of at least three different illegal substances.

Penny: Oh.

Penny pauses again, trying her hardest to come up with something suitable for the lovely snow pal she’d created with her beloved. It had to be something memorable to commemorate the moment so she expanded her perimeters. And after several moments of silent contemplation, Penny finally decides what to name the snowman.

Penny: How about…. Lord Snowington!

She announces, proud of her choice as her boyfriend looks at her completely bewildered by her name choice.

Whitley..., Excuse me, could you repeat that?

Penny: His name is Lord Snowington!

Whitley: And what spurred this name into being?

Penny: Well, he’d made of snow but very well-crafted, so I gave him the Lord title and added the ington on as it’s commonly associated with people of wealth and higher standing.

She explains. Whitley takes a moment to absorb this information and finds himself laughing at Penny’s absurd reasoning. It was so on theme for her to use such sound logic in the most bizarre ways.

Whitley: I see. (chuckles) Well Lord Snowington it is then!

With that, their creation is dubbed Lord Snowington, and the pair soon decide he needs a companion. Unfortunately, by the time they begin building the second one a group of young teenagers, most like middle schoolers, have taken notice of their work and aim to ruin the fun. Without prompting one throws a snowball directly at the snowman’s head, only to be intercepted by Penny’s incredible speed.

Penny; Hey! Leave our snowman alone.

She shouts, holding the attempted means of snow destruction in her hand. The malicious juveniles take her stance as a challenge and quickly start gathering up snow.

Whitley: Looks like they want a fight.

Penny: I can see that, are you okay with engaging in light combat?

Whitley: Well, I haven’t thrown a snowball in years, but I wouldn’t mind giving it a try. Besides they’ve disrespected Lord Snowington, and that can’t stand.

Penny: Okay, then get ready for battle!

She cries before digging down to the ground and making her own snow ammunition. Penny had always wanted to have a snowball fight and she wasn’t gonna waste the chance to cut losses. Soon it’s an all-out war! The middle schoolers start hurling snowballs at the couple, their aim isn’t the best and their form is clumsy but they’re giving it their all. Despite being outnumbered both Penny and Whitley are quick-footed and coordinated enough to dodge the onslaught. When the opportunity to strike back comes Penny stands firm with direct attacks, throwing snowballs at those closest by while she guards Lord Snowington. Whitley takes a stealthier approach, compacting his snowballs to be steadier and aiming for weak points like stomach and legs to trip up their already messy formation.

In the end, the middle schoolers admit defeat and take off, Lord Snowington still standing in the aftermath. By the time Whitley has to get going they’ve made a little snow family, Lord Snowington Lady Snowington, their daughter Valley, and their pet snow bunny Carrot. Penny waves their snow friends goodbye as they leave the park, hoping they might last long enough to see again the next time she patrols the area. As they walk back to the station Whitley feels a wave of fatigue washes over him, all the physical activity draining the commonly sedentary young man. It’s been so long since he’d had that much fun while being so active his usual sluggishness is replaced by a more fulfilled sense of tiredness. Still, his body cries for rest and yawns, Whitley reaching up to cover his mouth on reflex only to be met by the fabric of his mask over his skin. Penny giggles at his clumsy moment and Whitley responds by playfully pinching her cheek as they continue walking.

This was bliss to him, being fun and silly with someone who loved and cared for him. Though it did make going back up even harder, sometimes just looking at her made Whitley want to stay and never look back. But he knew the consequences that would bring, and he had goals to fulfill before he could truly act as he wished.

Whitley: Just a little longer. Two more years at the most and less than that if I can find a big enough weak point to exploit until I’m of age.

Whitley muses as he bids Penny farewell before walking into the train station. He looks back once before going through the entrance, being graced with the view of Penny still waving him goodbye, an innocent smile bright on her face and eyes full of warmth. What a shame that she fell for someone like him, a person tangled up in a world so bleak it was eating him alive. What would she think of him if she knew the things he’d witnessed? How would she see him if she knew of the monsters in his company more often than not? What would she do if she knew what he was willing to do for his freedom and how much he’d already done for it? Whitley didn’t know but deep down he was sure that the less she knew of his true nature the better.

Whitley: Hopefully I can keep this clean enough to stay with her. Getting blood on those soft hands would be too cruel.