Thanks for sticking with this story, even if it sounds like getting the systems/mechanics made is a pain in the ass. We appreciate it.
Meh, it's a self-inflicted pain in the ass- always remember that every complaint about the system is something I've done to myself more than anything else. Though honestly, after the Process stuff is finished, it's... done? I think? Everything else, I can just cannibalise from the old stuff, once I shift it over to using d10s, and everything that isn't that doesn't really
matter enough to have a system made for it- money, for example.
I will say though- I
am planning a small-ish gaiden story that will be purely narrative-based choices, no dice rolls or anything, and depending on how well that works, it may end up convincing me to drop all these systems entirely.
To getting what?
TO GETTING WHAT BRAVO?
... You know what?
I'm actually okay with leaving that one cut off. Let something be a secret for once.
@Prok Uh, you put the threadmark for Oz/Revelation() waaaay too early in the list.
I just swapped it from Apocrypha to Threadmarks, everything
else is between God and Xon.
Still, fixed, thank you.
Anyway, I know this took a while, but for once I have slightly useful news for you all- after this update, there will be no updates until May 30th at the very earliest- I have far too much college work piling up as is, and
this is still the first thing off my checklist. I'll still be writing, but I'll just be taking my damn time doing it.
Okay! Shotgun round time!
Uh…
Why is it that the second you're given free rein to ask any question you want your mind gets dipped in whiteout-
{Jaune. Ada? Boriah? The eventual collision of those two things?}
Oh, of course.
"... One of my teammates, Ada… she is, possibly, being personally hunted by Boriah Lee."
That gets a stir. Qrow and Goodwitch both sit up, focusing on you properly for the first time in 10 minutes, while Ozpin's brow knits together with concern.
"... How sure are you of this?" Ozpin asks.
"Her story matches up with records on deaths found at the site- all but two people died in Bridge that day, according to official records. So… Boriah, and Ada. Besides that, she's very obviously been traumatised by something, whether it's Lee, or something else."
"Ms Doyle is the one with the…" Goodwitch starts, vaguely gesturing to her left eye.
"Lee… took it," you tell her.
Goodwitch leans back in her chair, looking ever so slightly nauseous, muttering some utterly
venomous curses under her breath, hands instinctively clenching around nothing at all.
"Glynda," Ozpin says, "take a deep breath."
She shoots him a look that makes you worry he may just drop dead there and then, but she does take a few measured breaths, before standing, her fatigue all-but-forgotten.
"I would
love to stay, Ozpin, but I have to go and find something inexpensive to break, find a free therapist vetted to deal with childhood trauma, then prepare a plan for a serial killer's eventual attempt to break into Beacon," she grinds out as she walks towards the lift, heels clicking against the stone like gunshots.
The door opens, she walks in, and wheels around hard enough to nearly drill a hole in the carpeted floor, stabbing the button with a finger hard enough that you could hear it from across the room.
"I hope you all have a good night because I most certainly will
not."
The lift doors close before anyone can respond to that. You turn to Ozpin, raising your eyebrows in question.
"Professor Goodwitch has… a protective streak when it comes to her students. Ada is in good hands."
You sigh, a deep tension rolling off your back, leaving you feeling light as a feather.
"... You know, even now, I'm beginning to wonder if I even should have told you. I, er…" you trail off, wondering if admitting to Ozpin that you came into this office expecting to be out of that window about 2 hours and 58 minutes ago is a good idea.
You decide it probably isn't.
"I didn't… really clear this, with her."
Ozpin exhales, shaking his head lightly, giving you a sympathetic smile.
"We must lie in the beds we make, I'm afraid."
You sigh, silently accepting that you've done this to yourself.
"Oh, don't look so down- if you're willing to go this far for her, you cannot truly believe she will do anything
too horrible to you. The cold shoulder for a week or so is a small price to pay for her safety, is it not?"
… He has a point, you suppose. Enough of one that you no longer feel like utter crap for accidentally outing your friend's trauma without her explicit permission. With a shrug and a gesture, you signal that you consider this topic satisfactorily exhausted.
"You mentioned something about… 'social repercussions.' Would you like to elaborate?"
Ah.
What
did you mean by that?
Well, if you did assimilate the entirety of Vale like you
absolutely could, one, you're pretty sure you'd be breaking a lot of laws, two, it
definitely wouldn't be subtle, and three, you imagine both the general populace and the Council, let alone parliament, would be
less than acquiescent with,
any of that.
"I don't… want to be seen as the bad guy. I don't want the Process to be seen as, something to be scared of. If I did go through with the whole 14-day plan, it would… look like the end of the world to people who don't know what's happening. So… I want to take it slow and try to… get people used to it, first. Get permission to start replacing things, and let the Process grow up a little."
He nods slowly, considering something silently before some hitherto-unseen connection makes itself in the back of his head.
"... Out of curiosity, what
is your plan for taking things slow?"
"{He started a construction company.}"
Qrow chokes back laughter, waving off your concerned slash mildly offended looks as he recovers.
"Sorry, sorry, I just- I think I expected almost
any other answer there. A construction company? Really?"
You shrug, genuinely unsure how else to respond to that.
"The Process is geared towards it. There'll be no material costs, I don't actually need to employ anyone besides maybe someone to keep an eye on the Process onsite, which could still lead to them working on a ridiculous number of construction projects at once while hiring maybe a dozen people total. And once I start having the money needed to own buildings, I can start renovating them for household or commercial purposes."
"Don't you worry you might put people out of business by offering such a cheap and objectively better alternative? If I understand the Process half as well as I imagine I do now, surely they would essentially make most repair jobs outright unnecessary, to say nothing of renovation, construction, energy generation..." Ozpin trails off, feeling he's made his point.
You wince, trying not to look too much like a kicked dog at the question.
Geez, really just… not pulling punches, huh?
"I do worry about that, yes. I guess I'm hoping that… by the time the company's big enough to cause that problem, it'll be big enough that I can try and solve it, too. But, I mean, I'm not looking to run anyone out of business."
Ozpin stares at you, smiling warmly after a moment of thought.
"Well, that's more consideration than the Schnee Dust Company ever gave its competitors. Still, we can discuss that when it's a little more relevant- how
is Cloudbank Solutions doing at this exact moment?"
"It…"
"{Um…}"
"It exists."
"{Yeah, that, it… exists.}"
"I haven't, really had time to do anything with it. I don't even really… know what to do with it. Advertise? Find an office? Is there any point in getting an office that's going to be empty most of the time?"
It takes you a moment to realise how much these questions have been weighing on your mind- they've just been buried under the other massive pile of
bullshit that is your life right now-
Breathe. It's all stuff you can deal with.
Ozpin chuckles, looking quite amused with you.
"No, I suppose I shouldn't expect you to know the minutiae of running a business…" he trails off, eyes staring into the distance for a moment, a look of deep thought on his face. "Come to think of it, I believe I may… be able to help you with that- would you mind giving me a few days to set some things up, talk to a few people?"
You nod your assent, figuring whatever Ozpin can come up with is better than what you could, given everything else on your plate.
"Very well. Now- anything else?"
You can think of a few things, now that you've had time to collect your thoughts on the side.
Blue, flip a coin?
{Heads.}
… Ah, dammit.
"... There's no... easy way to say this. There are Grimm under Vale. Living in massive nests, starting about two kilometres into the bedrock," you start, trying to get as much information out in as few words as you can.
Silence, once more. Instead of waiting for a reply, you just pull up a holographic display of Vale's topology, showing the city, the regolith below, and then the bedrock, half-alabaster with Process material, and filled with long, thin tunnels and chambers of void.
"... Hey, what's that white layer along the top?"
"The Process. The more catoms there are, the further the Mesh spreads, the more processing power it has. I told it to replace the bedrock and stay dormant- that way there'll always be some left, even if everything on the surface is somehow destroyed."
"Weren't you just mentioning how worried you are that doing exactly that would make people scared of the Process?" Qrow asks. "Like, like- is that legal? Oz, is that legal?"
Ozpin shrugs.
"I'm not a legal encyclopedia, Qrow. Though, if I had to hazard a guess, I would doubt there's a specific law forbidding it since the technology to do it hasn't even existed for two months."
"It was the easiest way I could think of to ensure the Process's continued existence."
Qrow shrugs, conceding the point.
"To, drag this back to the topic at hand… what do you want me to do with them?"
Ozpin raises an eyebrow, genuinely confused by the question.
"... They're Grimm."
"{Morally, yes, you're completely right, practically- there are a few concerns. Namely, whether or not the Process can kill them all fast enough that they won't make a break for the surface. We've never
seen Grimm like this before. For all we know, they eat thunder, crap lightning, and split in two if you cut them in half.}"
Ozpin stays quiet for a moment, pulling his glasses off and cleaning them with a retrieved microfibre cloth from his breast pocket.
"... You make a fair point. If these are unknown breeds of Grimm, and you lack the firepower to kill them…"
"Like a bat to a nest of hornets," Qrow finishes quietly.
"Quite. Still… does the Process have the firepower to kill them all?"
"... We do not know. Individually, yes, but numbers are so great and bodies so compacted that… no, do not have the firepower to kill them all in a reasonable timeframe, without compromising structural integrity. Would just hide behind the bodies of the dead long enough to escape."
"I see. Thank you for answering honestly."
"I mean- okay, this is gonna sound crazy, I know, but… couldn't we just leave them be?" Qrow says. "It's not like they're
going anywhere, and with your little robots keeping an eye on the nest, we'll have advance warning if they
decide to go anywhere, right? So… Just, leave them be until we
can deal with them?"
To Qrow's credit, he weathers the stares of mild confusion and incredulity like a champ.
"... I… suppose, that's our best option, for the moment," Ozpin says. "It doesn't quite sit right with me, but you make a fair point."
"I'll throw it on the list," you tell him tiredly.
"'Figure out how to kill about 8000 Grimm in 3 seconds.' Downright easy, compared to some of the other things on there."
You can't help sounding a little bitter, but it
feels good to let that out. Along with the long-suffering sigh that follows it.
You are…
so tired.
Ozpin gives you a sympathetic smile, at odds with his eyes, filled with concern.
"I know that look all too well. What's on your mind?" he asks quietly, seemingly aware that he's walking on eggshells.
Unbidden, you remember the Grimm from the Initiation. The one you burnt to a crisp, then stabbed in the face.
The one that looked…
scared of dying. The image is still vivid in your mind, brought to the forefront with almost no effort.
Gods, it's still like a slap to the face.
You let your gaze drift to your knees, hands clasped and thumbs gently twiddling-
"... During the Initiation, I… killed a Grimm, a big one. But… I didn't, like it. Honestly, I kinda… hated myself a little afterwards."
It feels
insane to admit to this. You're a
Huntsman, you don't…
feel for Grimm. You
shouldn't feel anything for Grimm.
Shit, being
human should disqualify you from that; at least, you're fairly certain you don't suddenly feel like joining up an apocalypse cult.
"Tell me more."
Your head snaps up, and see Ozpin, still gently smiling, not a hint of judgement in his eyes. For just a moment, words won't form. Slowly, haltingly, you start, then stop, then start again, you don't
know how many times-
"It, er… it started, after the laser fired. We trapped it, on the ground floor, so when it started to vent heat..."
"You cremated it," Qrow says.
"Tried, to cremate it. It… survived. I- gods, when we made our way back, we found its skeleton, and it was still healing. So, I finished it off, and when I did, it looked..."
The word catches in the back of your throat.
"... Fearful?" Ozpin suggests.
You shake your head.
"... Resigned. When I actually, did it, it was like… ash in my mouth. I've killed Grimm and been frustrated with it- like I could have done it more efficiently, or I'd made a stupid mistake, but I've never actually felt bad about killing one before. Then again, I've never seen a Grimm… make its peace."
Ozpin snorts, smiling almost paternally at you.
"Your problem, as much as it can be called a problem, is
empathy, Jaune. Grimm, especially the larger, older ones, often develop instincts much like normal animals- they develop…
personalities, for lack of a better word. It makes them harder to kill because they suddenly have the same basic instincts every other animal with a nervous system does, but it also makes them… harder to
kill, if that makes sense."
It… doesn't, and the two of them seem to realise that.
"You ever been hunting? For animals, I mean. Deer, rabbits, boar, anything like that?" Qrow asks after a minute.
You shake your head.
"Do you think you could?"
"... I like steak, and I like cows, and I would prefer to keep the relationship between the two as separate as possible in my head."
You remember your father teaching you about lethal mouse traps- how they were designed to snap the neck with enough force to guarantee a quick death, as demonstrated by snapping a pencil in half.
That was the first and only time you've ever gotten into a screaming match with your parents over something. You'd regret it if they hadn't eventually relented and set up non-lethal traps instead.
He chuckles, clapping you on the shoulder.
"You'd be surprised how common that kinda mindset is. Grimm are…
easier to kill than animals. Practically
and morally. So, when they start to act like animals instead, it… well, yeah, it messes with you. Especially if you're not prepared to hunt animals."
"But how can… do Grimm, feel like normal animals?"
"You have an entire book exploring the subject sitting in your room right now, do you not?" Ozpin asks.
Oh.
Yeah, you guess you do.
"So… I'm not crazy for feeling bad about killing a big Grimm?"
"You merely had the bad fortune to have to deal with this before you were taught how to deal with it. There's a small workshop I teach to first-years during a Grimm Studies lecture, usually after the first field trip of the year- but, I suppose a small one-on-one session won't do you any harm. Close your eyes, please."
You do, hearing Ozpin whisper something too low to hear. You
do feel the slightest thrum of magic from him, passing over you like a wave- now that you know what you're feeling for, it's, actually remarkably obvious. You push the Transistor's indignation down, mentally confirming that you're fine. Slowly, you feel indignation shift into curiosity, matching your own.
"Do you know what a bison is?"
You don't need to think about it; the image forms in your mind almost immediately. A massive creature, easily two or three feet taller than you, with a thick coat of fur that begins at its head and ends on its humped shoulders, two long, spear-like horns sprouting proudly from its head.
"What you see, it no longer exists- but when they lived, they would move in the thousands, migrating from Vale to Vacuo and back every year, and they were earth-bound
thunder, Jaune."
You hear it- no, you
feel it, the image expanding from one single bison to a herd of thousands, too many to count, moving across vast, wild plains, the rumbling of their passing slipping into your bones, an earthquake of flesh and fur.
Mountains tremble, avalanches form, the hoofbeat of passing generations slowly pounding them to dust-
"Kill the bison, Jaune."
What?
There's a shift in the scene- suddenly, you are
there, wrapped in furs, musket and spear in hand and on back- the eyeglass is centred on one of the herd, milling around, near a lake. Calves run and play nearby- finally stretching their legs and finding out what they can do.
You hesitate. Can you…
Can you?
The scope shudders.
You shudder. You're being told to end an animal's life, and you don't think you
can.
"Why do you kill the bison?"
"To feed my family," someone else says in your voice.
"To make the pelt into a blanket, to provide warmth for the coming winter."
"But it isn't easy, is it."
"I'm killing something beautiful."
"So kill it right. One bullet- through the heart, through the lungs."
The sight shifts. You know where the heart on a bison is, now.
… Ah. You think you understand now.
You pull the trigger. Watch it collapse, and approach- stroke its fur, let it know it's not alone as the life empties from it. It stills, under your fingers.
Calmed, then…
Gone.
"What do we kill the bison with, Jaune?"
"With awe."
"And with respect."
The images fade. You open your eyes, wiping the hot tears that had formed while you… you don't know
what that was.
"... Thank you. I… I think I understand now."
Ozpin smiles warmly.
"I'm glad I could help. It's not something most Huntsmen know how to deal with- I fear we spend so much effort preparing them to merely kill Grimm, not to
hunt, that when the two coincide…"
He trails off, not finishing the thought.
"You know, you're
remarkably receptive to magic- it's not often I see someone so engrossed in the vision that they take up a role within it."
"{Is that a bad thing?}"
"In a general sense, it's no worse than any other form of method acting- here, it's quite good. How do you feel, Jaune?"
"Uh… better, I think."
And you do- you didn't realise how much you'd been weighed on by that thought, and now you feel like a boulder has rolled off your back.
You breathe, and it comes easy- easier than it has in days.
Attitude +1
Agh… you are…
Drained.
Mentally, emotionally, physically, spiritually, you are
tapped for the day, and Ozpin seems to recognise that.
"Well- I've no more questions, for the moment. I think we've all… been given quite a lot to think on. So- shall we call it a night?"
"I'm out of questions- Blue?"
"{Nothing so urgent it can't be brought up later. If we're fast, you might get to bed before midnight.}"
"Yes, mother."
Ozpin and Qrow chuckle a little before everything settles into a much more comfortable silence.
"... Thank you, Jaune," Ozpin says after a few moments. "I, will admit to a little worry that you wouldn't take me up on my offer at all. It was a relief to see you arriving in that elevator tonight."
{Tonight was productive.}
Indeed. You stand up, working some feeling back into your legs, as Ozpin does the same.
"Jaune," he says. "Before you do go, I only have one thing left to say. Needless to say, you have been enlightened on many topics tonight, some of which are… sensitive. Indeed, if that information were to get out, it would cause… well, widespread panic would be the best-case scenario."
"You don't want me to tell anyone, I understand."
"The opposite, actually," Qrow chimes in. "Jaune, learning about Salem, that's…
big. That's bigger than a lot of people can deal with by themselves."
"At the very least, you should consider telling your team. Being able to emotionally support each other is just as important as being able to fight as a unit."
Qrow winces a little at Ozpin's words, but he quickly schools his face to stony neutrality, which, frankly, is even worse at hiding his feelings. You wonder what happened there?
"Seriously though," he says quickly, "even assuming the nightmares don't start up again, not talking to anybody about this, you're just
asking for an ulcer. Trust me, I'd know."
It's only for a millisecond, but your gaze does flick to his coat pocket- the one you watched him pull a flask from just off the lift, and you're pretty sure it's the same one he had on him at Signal.
Some things... make more sense, now.
"... Yeah, I know. I'm… getting pretty sick of keeping secrets."
At the same time, that's a
hell of a thing to dump on your friends, full stop. Could they handle it?
{How about we figure that out later? Right now, you need to go get some sleep. Leave that for tomorrow.}
Ozpin smiles.
"I know the feeling all too well. Goodnight, Jaune, and, ah-"
He offers you a hand, waiting for you to shake it.
"Welcome to the inner circle."
You may snort in amusement, but you still shake his hand.
Two days at Beacon, and you've already joined a secret society.
… Yeah, that sounds about right.
END OF ACT ONE
Interludes are coming.
