Jaune Pendragon
King Of Servants
- Location
- Avalon
This.....this is beyond beautiful....
Hold It In (RWBY/Transistor)
- Thread starter Prok
- Start date
- Crossover
- Location
- A big rock
Holy shit I just realized that the KSBD/RWBY crossover had the biggest missed opportunity ever:
Jaune ten Jantris, get it? It's a pun on the biggest of boy's og name, yaun.
Noitaerc
(Nexus Force) (Assembly) (Verified Minifig)
- Location
- Currently stranded on Mata Nui island
When Ozpin informs Ironwood of Jaune, I can just see the latter answering that he knows the young man because he played third wheel while half of his sword went on a date with Penny. And likely get a picture of Ozpin's face just in case he makes a funny one.
Oh god, imagine if Salem discovers that what Ivory fears is apparently an A.I. that decided to date another before she learns anything else about the Transistor beyond its function has medical aid and Semblance tool/weapon... and Ivory starts going on about the things multiplying and breeding.
"Okay, I tried to be objective, but clearly you have lost it. Artificial Intelligences do not have the physical parts to reproduce you idiot! Ozpin must have somehow found out about that and just to taunt us created a company named Cloudbank Solutions and put the student with the giant computer board as its head."
Oh god, imagine if Salem discovers that what Ivory fears is apparently an A.I. that decided to date another before she learns anything else about the Transistor beyond its function has medical aid and Semblance tool/weapon... and Ivory starts going on about the things multiplying and breeding.
"Okay, I tried to be objective, but clearly you have lost it. Artificial Intelligences do not have the physical parts to reproduce you idiot! Ozpin must have somehow found out about that and just to taunt us created a company named Cloudbank Solutions and put the student with the giant computer board as its head."
PsyFarrow
Verified Necrodancer
- Location
- Space
Tragically, Ironwood's too uptight to actually say that. More likely he says something along the lines of, "I've ah, encountered that young man before. It was in... unfortunate circumstances."
- Location
- Goose Land
That depends on how much progress we make converting everything.
If we manage to provide enough security while keeping under the radar, and Ironwood is shown to his satisfaction that the area is in fact secure, then he might just show up with body guards rather than a city protection detail.
Politically, it would demonstrate the trust he has in Vale which would have quite a few beneficial effects, especially if we keep things on lock.
We really need to take the time to get permission and direction from Ozpin about absorbing Beacon.
- Location
- Philippines
Having permission to absorb Beacon would be ideal. Plus it'll also add extra security for Amber
- Location
- Goose Land
There'd actually been brief mention of the Fall Maiden still being an active agent, so Ozpin might actually not have a coma person in his basement.
If I remember correctly, the Transistor actually hard counters the original plan to hack the robots, simply because once we realize they are hacked the Transistor has so much processing power it can easily brute force take over instead. And that was pre-Process. Now, every other part of the plan still needs to be dealt with, and Cinder will likely adapt what she's doing if she suspects we have a pocket AI (or learns from Salem/Ivory), but that part at least has been dealt with preemptively ever since we chose Transistor.
But I agree, getting permission to absorb Beacon would be really beneficial. And even if Cinder does succeed in stealing half of Amber's power like in canon, we might be able to help keep her more stable since the Transistor can actually analyze people's souls, so we can more accurately perform "soul surgery." If not us, then we can at least help diagnose what exactly is happening and see what treatments help more.
Berix
Toa of Twilight
- Location
- USA
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Just finished binging. What an incredible ride to experience.
Also, also,
I gotcha. I think these are all of them; but it's possible I missed a hyperlink while scrolling through.
Also,
Tyrian, right?
Also, also,
These google doc links no longer work. I assume there is no purpose to them either, but figured I'd mention it.
- Pronouns
- He,him
Hope your having a good day.
Interlude: A Free Man
Prok
Go play Star Fetchers
- Location
- Scotland
Ah… I won't lie to you.
It's been a rough couple of months. I'd rather not get into details, all told, it's not worth worrying about now.
The worst is over, I'm no longer spending every single day performing intense physical labour for no reward, now it's just a matter of figuring out if I wasn't writing because I ended every day sore and tired, or if I'm in the middle of a hilariously inconveniently-timed major depressive episode.
Well… I don't want to end every day drunk, at least, so I've got that going for me.
This interlude's a little different, because it's a prologue to a storyline I very much want to be part of Hold It In, and I'm still debating how best to deal with it, but that's tomorrow-Prok's problem, and tomorrow-you's problem too. This is also the final interlude, and the actual story will be up this Friday.
I woke up at 5:50, on the dot; ten minutes earlier than anyone else, same as every other morning. I looked at the ceiling, and asked myself- 'am I still here?'
Here was, well, its official name was 'SDC-V Mountain Range Installation 7,' but the people who live here, and the PR department once they realised that the official name was like chewing on dry toast, just called it The Range.
One of these days the answer would be no, but it wasn't today. No, I'm still here, today.
So, I took a deep breath and said the words I needed to.
"I am not a prisoner. I will never be a prisoner here because they cannot shackle me in a way that matters."
The guy that taught me that mantra was gone now- not dead, or anything, no, he got out. Paid up his debts, and left. I think he lives in Vacuo now.
If you ask me, that's just proof it's gotta work.
I dressed in the standard-issue cheap white nylon jumpsuit with the SDC logo printed on the back and breast pocket, my employee number printed below them- 2837. It was a slow process because I was also trying to be as quiet as possible. Once I was done, I stood at the edge of my bed, watching the clock for the perfect moment.
5:58:57, 58, deep breath, 59-
Rebel Rebel, David Bowie's Diamond Dogs, 1974.
"GOOOOOOOOOOD MORNING, CAMPERS!" I cawed as loud as I could, just as the clock ticked over to 5:59 am, and the automated sun lamps guttered into life, and the automated wakeup message began to play.
"WHO'S READY TO GET OUT THERE AND PROVE TO THE ADMINISTRATION BUILDING THAT THEY CAN'T KEEP US DOWN WITH LATE FEES AND PAY CUTS?! I KNOW I SURE AM!" I continued, drowning out the serene female voice wishing us a good morning and thanking us for our service to the Schnee Dust Company.
I considered it a public service.
The chorus of groans, "Godsdammit, Carmine-" and several attempted concussions with pillows told me that my work was done here, so I quickly made my escape for the breakfast hall.
My escape didn't last long, unfortunately, because the first thing I walked into was Marrón. I bounced off them and landed on my ass, which left me craning my neck to look up at them even more than usual. They looked down at me, giving me a look like someone who had just barely managed to avoid stepping in dog crap.
"Mx Marrón, how is my favourite escaped silverback today? Zookeepers found you yet, or are the guard uniform and tiny hat still throwing them off the scent?"
They stared at me with the fatigued look of someone who had not been up for long enough to deal with me yet.
"Ngh…" they groaned deeply, "Brothers, Carmine, what dark force bought your soul to give you this much energy at six in the freakin' morning?"
"You know, there is a really interesting anthropological reason for that, see, Faunus-"
"Yeah I don't, actually care, look, you're getting breakfast late, Monday wants to see you," they said as I got back to my feet.
I'd be lying if I said I was entirely surprised; Monday was always on my ass for one reason or another. Unlike her namesake, she didn't have the good grace to keep it to a weekly basis either. I couldn't think why- I was a model employee of the SDC, obviously. I couldn't think of a reason to be worried about my immediate employment, anyway.
"Any idea why?" I asked Marrón while I dusted myself off.
All I got out of them was a grunt.
"... Good talk, buddy," I told them with a clap on the shoulder, and I quickly left before they could find a reason to hit me with that baton on their hip.
|||
Alexis Monday was a very particular woman- I may go about all prim and proper and acting like I loved it here for the hell of it, but she did it just because…
Okay, you know how some people wear clothes, and other people are the clothes they wear? Maybe that's a little confusing, let me try again-
I could not, with a gun to my head, imagine Alexis Monday not wearing a white dress shirt, spotless, a knee-length pencil skirt with a thigh slit, spotless, and carrying a brown vinyl-covered clipboard. Her hair was always kept in a low bun, and she always wore the same pair of thin rectangular glasses. She also always looked at me like I was somehow insulting her with my presence. None of these things ever changed, all of these are just part of Alexis Monday- all some core aspect of her that, without them, leaves something behind that doesn't make sense.
"The exosuit has malfunctioned again," she said in place of a proper greeting. "This is the third time this week," she said, and just as unacceptable as the first time, she didn't say.
"Good morning to you too, Ms Monday. What's Rusty gone and done this time?"
She sighed, and I could swear I watched her actively suppress the urge to roll her eyes at me as she gestured at me to follow.
"It is a combination of things- the onboard AI has become stuck in a boot loop again, and the left leg hydraulics seized up completely, then drained. If the pilot had tried to boot it internally, he would most likely be trapped and injured trying to fix it himself."
"God bless the SDC's policy on riding mechs hot," I said placidly.
She shot me a look that no doubt would have killed someone else, but I just smiled at her.
Most mechs- sorry, assisted-piloting exosuits- were able to be ridden hot, booting it up from the pilot's cabin at the same time as making safety checks of the pilot's cabin. The SDC, on the other hand, had a blanket policy of cold-riding- safety checks are made, then the pilot evacuates and powers up the mech from an external console.
I was never really that jazzed about the concept.
It felt like trying to ride a horse from a- from a saddle, 40 feet away. It's not natural- you're meant to be in there, as much part of the machine as the engine, the actuators, the onboard persona-
Agh, no, no, no daydreaming, dingus. I didn't have time for it.
"Where is she?" I sighed, dragging myself back down to Remnant.
Alexis smiled at me slyly.
"The exosuit is in the vehicle pool- it never managed to leave its bay."
I grunted and moved to leave.
"2837," she called as I waved down a passing night shift truck to get a lift. "Remember, you are directly responsible for any injuries caused by the exosuit. Keep that in mind, before you decide to perform another shoddy patch job."
The words were like a slap to the face- I wheeled around, my jaw set in a grimace that set off ringing in my ears, nails digging furrows into my palms as they balled into fists. As I approached her, it took a titanic force of will to contain myself- but I kept a lid on it, allowing myself one finger to put in her face.
"I do not appreciate, being referred to as a number, any more than you would," I whispered to her. "My name is David, Carmine. I am not a prisoner here, and I will not allow you to treat me like one."
With that, I turned to the thankfully still-waiting truck, and hopped up on the side, taking off before she could get a word out.
|||
The sun rises late in the valleys of Vale's mountains- in the middle of August, the sky might lighten, but the street lamps are on until 10, 11 in the morning. Otherwise, it was still twilight.
Some of the camps out here were lucky, they were in valleys that went east to west, not north-south like ours did- but, such is life in The Range.
The artificial (is it artificial if it's caused by a natural land formation?) darkness didn't help my mood any, as I approached the motor pool, but things started to improve when I saw two of my favourite girls in the whole wide world, Rusty, and-
"Morgan!" I called out, hopping off the truck and walking towards her.
She jumped a little and whirled around to face me, holding her suitcase laptop across her chest. Her pupils opened to near-perfect circles as I walked to meet her, slowly contracting into a W-shape as I got closer. She only relaxed when she finally realised it was me.
Morgan was a short girl, dressed in the same formless jumpsuit as everyone else around here, but hers was large enough on her frame that the sleeves mostly covered her hands. Her face was pale, rife with dark freckles, which mainly hung out on the bridge of her nose. From a distance, it looked like she'd managed to break it, which, uh, was how we met. They matched the choppy, chin-length ginger hair that tended to frame her face just so. Though, the thing that most people probably noticed was behind the large, round glasses that she wore- she couldn't even wear contacts to hide her eyes, she'd told me once. It covered up too much of her pupils, and then she had an even harder time seeing.
"David! I, er, should have guessed you'd be called out too," she said, smiling wide.
"Sure, just about got dragged out of bed by Marrón. Coming or going?"
"I'm coming. I mean, I'm here, I'm, arriving, not-"
She slowly turned scarlet, and before her embarrassment at her own suspect wording got the better of her, I reached out and gently tapped her on the nose.
"Boop."
She blinked, going cross-eyed for a moment, her pupils closing to near slits as she focused on my finger.
Embarrassed babbling successfully intercepted.
"... You are actually twelve," she said after a moment. "Come on, the sooner we fix Rusty, the sooner we can get breakfast."
|||
How do I go about describing Rusty?
Well, to begin with, she wasn't rusty anymore- I made damn sure of that when I first came here and saw the state the poor girl had been left in. Took about 3 weeks of break times and days off to do it, before I was given the job when somebody finally realised I had a degree in exosuit mechanics with a minor in engineering. I mean, yeah, it's just a Master's degree, but hey, the only guy in the race still gets gold.
She was humanoid, for the most part, and easily 5 or 6 metres tall. Her torso was out of proportion with her limbs and head, giving her a sort of, testudine look- inside was a space large enough to fit a pilot seat and necessary systems for control, monitoring, and a couple of general amenities the pilots and I had managed to bully out of Monday a few years back. Her head was distinctly not shaped like a human's, though. I don't know how else to explain it, besides saying that if you took it off her shoulders, you could have used it as a dinner table. It was a squat cylinder, with a large slit for her single camera, that quickly ballooned out into a flat circle as wide around as I was tall.
She had four arms, her shoulders designed to allow them to swap places, so the smaller pair could reach all the same places the larger pair could- brute force or fine manipulation wherever you could need it. It was overengineered to hell and back, but goddamn it was a beautiful piece of work. Whoever designed it must have been some kind of wizard because it was the only part on Rusty that only broke down once a month instead of once a week. She was probably a custom job, actually- I knew every inch of her, and not one inch of her had a serial number on it. Some madman had built this himself and then she somehow ended up here because the administration was full of cheapskates who would never shell out for something sleeker.
Hell, I'd contributed to that particular conundrum myself- all above board, mind, no unauthorised modifications on my baby. The steps up to the cockpit door weren't there when I got here- so, I took some steel pipe, rolled it into the correct shape with the help of one of the mining truck guys, and then welded them on. You couldn't even tell they were an addition, they looked so damn natural. I'd also painted the old girl up because Monday didn't care that much, so she looked real nice when she wasn't caked in dust too- I'd gone for bright purple, the kind of shade that sticks out in a place that's mostly browns and whites- you could see her from the other side of the camp, on a clear day.
Maybe that was how she'd come to be; a mech that had passed from enthusiast to enthusiast, each adding to the mystery because they could, obscuring whatever had come from the original.
Was there anything of the original left? Had so much been replaced that Rusty had become a whole new mech, at some point?
I dunno- but she was my girl, and she was better than this place, that was for sure.
Morgan handed me the terminal cable after I got my toolbelt on, and I started rolling it out to Rusty while she sat down on the concrete, getting comfy.
"Hey, Rusty," I said, climbing up the thin struts on her outer frame and opening her cabin door. "Heard your leg's giving you trouble again- how about we work on that while Morgan figures out why you won't boot up?"
Rusty wasn't on, obviously, so I wasn't going to get a response from the onboard AI- but some of the old croaks and squeaks of metal and leather still sounded like a groan of relief to me.
"That's my girl," I said, gently patting the doorframe.
I plugged the cable into one of the USB ports on her dash and waited for Morgan to give me the go sign to start working on her leg.
While I waited, I sat down in the pilot's seat, and let my hands drift over the buttons, the joysticks, the levers and pedals… I'd never be allowed to ride Rusty. I would be put on mine duty so fast my head would spin, and I'd probably never see her again until she inevitably broke down so completely that they had no choice to scrap her. But...
My fingers wasted no time closing around a handle. Clutch disengaged. Release handle, clutch drops, my other hand craving the buttons that would bring her to life, every fibre of my body wanting to sync with her mechanical circulation and run from this place. I'd take Morgan, of course. Some of the others, too, my bandmates, at least, hell, maybe Marrón if they wanted to come along. It would be a tight fit, but I could grab one of the ore shovels and pad it out in secret, get them to hide in there and- this is all nonsense, I know that, but, I can still dream, right? Of the rush, of the maddened dance, wild flailing inside turned to inimitable grace on the outside…
I snapped out of it as Morgan used her laptop to honk Rusty's horn at me, before giving me a frustrated thumbs up. With more than a little regret, I slipped out of the seat and down her side, getting to work on her leg.
"Not today, honey," I muttered.
"Not today."
|||
We entered the dining hall just as Mr Andebern had everyone's attention, making an announcement on something or other. He was a portly man, as if one of those inflatable clown punching bags grew legs then put on a suit. His jowls were flabby with age and weight, and his thin, greying hair was kept in a combover that was regularly slick with nervous sweat, even up here in the mountains.
I know I'm not painting a very flattering picture, but I liked him- he was a, mostly, reasonable man, who took up the same role as Ms Monday most of the time, but with a different temperament. Their official titles, as far as I knew, were 'Administrative Liaisons.' He and Monday were corporate hatchet men, the faces of the company as far as we were concerned. Above them, and in charge of the site as a whole, was Geier, their boss, and beyond mere mortals such as Morgan and I.
"... happy to announce that our camp has been chosen by the prestigious Beacon Academy to receive their first-year field trip! Now, this won't be happening for some time, mind- not until after Candlemas, at the very least. This is a huge opportunity to show some of our largest consumers that their Dust is sourced ethically-"
A single barked laugh came from the crowd at that, and Andebern winced.
"-yes, yes, I know that look in your faces; 'where's the punchline, Bert?' Look, I'll be straight with you- this is, in essence, a review. If we do well, and the school reports us doing well, we get more funding, and Monday and I can use that money to make things a little more comfortable around here. More automated miners, some amenities, an actual budget for Rusty, if any of you actually give a damn about that, just- improving the quality of life around here, for everyone. You have my promise on that, and that's your carrot. If we don't do well..."
He let the question hang, and there was no laughter this time.
That's why I liked him- he wasn't afraid to quit toeing the company line and just be honest with us- it was, refreshing, to have someone who at least acted like he wasn't constantly spewing SDC propaganda at you.
"I'm glad you all understand," he continued after a moment. "In the coming weeks, there will be a few conversations regarding strategy for this field trip- however, if anyone has any ideas, do feel free to contact Ms Monday with details. That is all, for the moment- now, enjoy your breakfast!"
That got a more sincere laugh, and he quietly left the dining hall as conversations started up again. Morgan and I shuffled over to the line, where she grabbed herself a prawn mayo sandwich, a little lemon cake, and some milk, while I talked to one of the serving ladies.
"Special dietary order, David Carmine, ID-2837," I said.
"Yeah, it'll be a couple of minutes. The stock's not quite done yet, I'll have one of the young'uns take it out to ya," the lady behind the counter croaked at me.
I quietly thanked her, grabbed a bottle of mineral water, and made my way over to one table in particular, while Morgan went to find a quiet place to settle down and eat before she was called off for more IT stuff.
This section of the table had people at it, like many other tables- however, these people were my people. It wasn't easy, making friends in a place like this. When there's so little to talk about, and everyone's constantly worrying about their debts, it becomes difficult to work up the energy to put the effort into maintaining relationships. So, I counted myself lucky to find the few people who could.
I moved to sit between Connie and Olivia, and they moved to make room for me, leaving me opposite Shaun, who was sitting next to John.
"David," Olivia said, "what kept you?"
"Rusty did. Left leg hydraulics were giving her grief, and, something to do with her onboard AI, I never got around to asking Morgan what the problem was," I explained as I popped the cap off my water and took a sip. "I filled her back up again and tightened up that seal, but I'm going to have to beg Monday for another replacement. One that fits this time."
"I still find it cute that you insist on referring to an inanimate object as her," Connie said, barely keeping the little smile off her face.
I just shrugged. I didn't feel the need to defend myself; Rusty was Rusty, that's all. Besides, it's not like she'd complained about it.
Connie was a squat woman, who made up for her lack of verticality by growing out horizontally- she could probably deadlift my reedy ass if I had handles. She kept her brown hair short, forming a curly curtain that fell around chin height. Combined with the resting scowl, people who didn't know her generally left her alone unless they were too stupid to take a hint.
"Did you hear the announcements?" Shaun asked, reaching past John, and the person next to John, for the salt.
Calling Shaun big was somewhat, misleading. He was gaunt at best, all long, gangly limbs that left him head and shoulders above everyone else. However, he lacked all the muscle that would make him at all intimidating, which suited him just fine, thank you very much. That didn't change the fact that each of his hands could leave an ink-stained handprint around my entire neck.
"Caught the last part, at least. Something about being chosen for a field trip by Beacon, blah blah blah, do good or get dry bread for breakfast again, sound about right?"
"Mm, yeah," he said, "that's about right, but there were a couple things that you missed."
So, I still don't entirely understand why, but the administration around here likes to keep us abreast of the SDC's internal business decisions, acquisitions, financial roadmaps- stuff like that. I guess it was to try and make us feel like, part of the family.
I've seen fine porcelain teaware less hollow than that sentiment.
"What else happened?" I asked.
The answer was pretty much as usual; bank stuff, minor delays in processing debt payments, a promise to freeze all pending fees until the connection to the central system was repaired- yeah, and the other leg's got bells on.
The only really interesting thing was the acquisition of an offshoot of a small family business- the Pastel Company's Kuchinashi branch. None of us could figure out why they would want something like that, but through the combined efforts of 80% of our memories- John barely knew what day it was, let alone news from months ago- we eventually figured it out.
See, the Kuchinashi branch of the Pastel Company was run by Javi Pastel, who, one, had been a very naughty boy recently, and two, was found dead a few months ago. As for why he had been a very naughty boy, Olivia remembered certain accusations that had been levelled against him a while back. Rumour had it that he was a smuggler, shifting things for Wave, the Hana Guild, and probably the Spider Syndicate, the White Fang and three Grimm in a trenchcoat, if rumours about the man's activities were even halfway true.
In short- it was just, there, ready for snapping up. The Pastel Company as a whole just wanted to wash their hands of the whole mess, and the SDC wanted rights for the mines in that area. It just made sense, but then John, to our surprise, piped up by saying that the Kuchinashi mines weren't Dust mines, they were excavation sites, though he didn't specify what they were excavating-
We were snapped out of our debate by one of the cafeteria workers gently setting down my breakfast for me.
"Here you go, love- 's pork today, for some leek and potato later on," the serving lady I'd talked to before said.
I smiled and thanked her for bringing me it out, before turning back to my fresh plate of boiled pork ribs, fresh out the pot- still hot with steam that quickly fogged Shaun's glasses up.
"Oh, for God's sake, David- can't you eat those raw?" he asked as he pulled his sleeve up and used it to wipe the lenses clean.
"Sure, but this way the rest of you get ribs."
Also cold, raw pork ribs don't like having their bones extracted by hands.
With careful, picking fingers, I slowly peeled the meat off the bones, gently setting most of it to the side for the others to have. Well, Shaun and Connie, mainly, John just about ate a meal a day, and Olivia was as much of a vegan as the menu would allow her to be.
I took the bone between my teeth and twisted, cracking off a chunk, which I slowly chewed down to something I could swallow. I would digest the bone alright, but the marrow inside is what I was really after, carrion animal that I was at heart. Well, gut, really. Fruit and veg were alright, most grains and starches were, meh, and I could eat meat every now and then, but the processed slop they served in here would make me violently ill if I'd tried to eat it.
Olivia winced at the sound of me chewing a bone down to shards but managed an apologetic look when I caught her.
Yeah…
Some things stay the same no matter where you go.
|||
The recreation room was kind of weird. See, when I first came here, it was just an empty room with a small bookshelf and some stools. Then, someone started… donating things.
No, seriously, I couldn't make it up if I wanted to! The Range just got a shipment of stuff one day, from an anonymous donor- easily a few hundred thousand Lien's worth of instruments. Guitars, drums, woodwinds, violins and their bigger sisters, even a goddamn baby grand, along with some really good keyboards and synthesisers- the kind that act as recording and editing workstations too. As if that wasn't enough, the other half of the shipment was all the stuff you needed to actually turn those instruments into a cohesive listening experience on stage; amplifiers, sound mixers- digital and analogue, much to Olivia's delight- sound mixers, studio-quality microphones, and enough cables to mummify a small child, or Connie.
All of that, the entire shipment, came with no announcement, or signage, or even the slightest indication of who or where it came from; just the manifesto detailing its contents, and a handwritten note.
"Life is too short to let others tell you to stay silent."
It's still here, actually- framed on the wall of the rec room.
Nobody knows who donated it, but somebody higher up than the ground workers must have, because instead of doing what we all thought he'd do and just throwing it out, Geier converted an empty storage building into a new rec room, and just let it be. Told us to use it in our off-time if we really wanted to.
Whoever it was, they scared the administration like nothing else I'd seen.
I guess it was, kinda comforting, knowing that somebody out there cared about us that much.
The reason I bring all this up- sorry, just, realised I presented all of that without the necessary relevance- is because that's where the five of us, me, Olivia, Connie, Shaun, and John, spent most of our time when we weren't working.
Our reasons for being off varied- in my case, my job was so incredibly specialised that, on the good weeks when Rusty only broke down two or three times, I just had way too much spare time on my hands. Sometimes I got so stir crazy I would go over to the vehicle bay and work on the trucks and mining machines, just to give my hands something to do. It's only technically my job, and it's definitely not my shift, so I only really got paid whatever the pit boss was willing to scrape up for my help. Which, usually, wasn't enough to be worth my time, unless it was a major problem.
Connie and Olivia were specialists too, but they had found their own workarounds. Connie worked on the electrical grid, keeping lights on and heaters working, while Olivia worked in the comms room, keeping us connected to Vale at large. Both of them took the view of making their work so idiot-proof that nothing short of catastrophic failure would require their direct attention. In Olivia's case, that was just making a small tome of error codes and what to do in each case, which, to my knowledge, the communications team treated like a religious artefact.
Connie, on the other hand, had once come across a staff room in the management building that had two outlets with about 4 extensions each, each one full of coffee makers, TVs, vibrating chairs, and wherever else they could fit in there. She cut power to the entire room and shut the fusebox with a padlock about the size of my fist, leaving a note telling them that having no power is better than having no power and being on fire. Needless to say, that mess was cleaned up fast, she restored the power, and, somehow, was never caught.
Turns out being terrifying enough to make people actively quit committing human errors, and stealthy enough to avoid reproach for your actions is like, half the battle when it comes to electrical maintenance.
"So, you know what I'm thinking?" Connie said to us, making sure her guitar was tuned properly.
"Don't hurt yourself," Olivia said absentmindedly, still checking over the mic connections and making sure we were recording.
"Yeah, yeah, screw you too Granite- we should have a concert for that field trip!"
Shaun hit a sour note on his keyboard, only just catching it as it started to slip off the cheap stand it came with.
"A concert isn't something I could see Monday going in for. Especially not, our music," he said, slowly adjusting the keyboard to make sure it was balanced properly.
"Doesn't that seem somewhat pessimistic?" Olivia asked. "Monday's hardly the least reasonable person on the planet. It might take a few concessions, but there's no reason we couldn't set something like that up."
I was going to say I could go and talk to her, just in time to have a flashback to this morning, and my argument with her. Instead, all I did was open my mouth then cringe in horror.
"... David," Olivia said, "you look like you just remembered the time a girl rejected you in high school. What's wrong?"
Damn you, Olivia, you and your functional set of eyes-
"... I may have had a minor altercation with Alexis this morning," I said. "It, may have gone badly. I may have snapped at her. I don't think she'd like to see hide nor hair of me for the next few centuries."
I worried my lip for a moment, all of my anger at Alexis shrivelling in the face of the inconvenience it had just caused my friends.
"... What happened?" asked Shaun quietly.
It took me a moment to answer, swallowing thickly as I tried to figure out how to justify myself.
"... She called me by number," I said after a moment. "Said I would be held responsible if Rusty's failures ever killed someone."
The response was immediate, and the response was boiling anger.
"What the fuck is wrong with her?!" Connie yelled. The volume caused John to leap from his stool by the drumset, and Shaun reached over just in time to catch the cymbals before they collapsed with a clatter.
"That sounds heavily out of character for her," Shaun said as he fixed the cymbals back in place. "I'd expect that kind of attitude from, from Geier, not from her."
"You think you know a woman," Olivia said. "I should find out her tablet's MAC address and block it from the site WiFi, that'd teach her-"
I was stunned. I don't entirely know why I expected to be the one on the receiving end of all this anger, but they were angry for me. Me. The guy who just admitted to killing our big breakout dead in the water.
"Guys, guys," I started, "revenge isn't exactly going to warm her to the idea of us playing for the field trip, so, can we shelve the plotting for a minute?"
Don't get me wrong, I was touched that they cared that much- but it wasn't… helpful, right now. There were a few grumbles of frustration, but they subsided after a moment, which left us with nothing to do but realise that we... Didn't, really have anything other than revenge in mind for dealing with the situation.
After a moment, John broke the awkward silence.
"Well, let's start practising," he said quietly, adjusting the height of his cymbals a little.
"Uh, John, have you been listening? Our only chance of getting a concert is pissed off at our guitarist," Connie said, trying to emphasise the gravity of the situation for him.
John just shrugged.
"Dave'll figure it out," he said simply.
"... Guts or bones?" Olivia asked him.
"Bones," he replied.
Olivia nodded firmly; as if either question or answer made sense.
"Well, okay then. Let's practise."
Shaun and Connie glanced at each other, then me. I shrugged, helpless in the face of, whatever the hell that was. John and Olivia had, as far as I knew, come into the Range's workforce together, and sometimes, little things like this reminded me of that. Olivia understood John on a level I couldn't imagine. With the matter settled by way of John's apparent gift of prophecy, he counted us in on the song we knew we'd have to practice the most. We didn't get much chance to publish the things we recorded, but we'd managed to get a couple of songs out there, courtesy of Morgan and her witchcraft in finding us a VPN that could connect to the outside world from in here, and we all had a good feeling this one would do well.
"One- two- one, two, three, four-"
I'm gonna leave this one a surprise.
|||
Much like the sunrise of The Range often came late, the sunset tended to come early. It was early afternoon, and, besides a couple more calls out to Rusty that turned out to either be user error or false alarms, I'd done pretty much nothing but practice all day. We went through our old catalogue, hashed out a couple of group songs, some individual pieces- when you've got nothing but time and instruments, but limited band members, your band ends up becoming something of a supergroup by default- and generally just convinced ourselves that, yes, I should go and lick Monday's shoes clean and beg for a chance to perform.
I'm exaggerating a little, but I still rankled a little at the idea. There are very few things that piss me off more than management acting like the debt-workers aren't people. We get enough of that from the rest of planet Remnant, thank you very much. We get enough of that from the usurious prats in die Schneebankgruppe- yes, they insisted on it being named that even outside of Atlas City.
Don't get me wrong- I was gonna do it. Hell, I was walking towards the administrative building to find her, and I would approach, metaphorical hat in hand, and kiss the goddamn ring if that's what it took to make this concert happen.
Amazing what's possible when it suddenly isn't all about you, isn't it?
The administrative building, unlike every other building on the property, was a proper brick and mortar affair. Everything else might have been corrugated steel semicylinders and prefabricated pod buildings, but the admin building was built from the ground up, foundations and all. Unless they decided to demolish it, it would be the only building left standing long after this mine shut down.
… I hated it. I can't explain why, even now, but- the entire building reeked of…
Flaunted superiority.
I shook the thought free from my skull. Now wasn't the time to get all indignant about things. No, it was the time to get curious.
"...eier, you can't be serious! This is a deathtrap waiting to happen!
The little snippet of speech caught my attention as I walked past an office window, inconceivably still open, despite it never being above 15 degrees up in the mountains, even in the summer.
It sounded like Monday. It sounded like she was incredibly unhappy with how that conversation was going.
I did what anyone would do in that situation- slipped off of the path, crouched under the wall, and strained my ears to eavesdrop. Thankfully, I was born a Faunus, and that last part wasn't a problem- a lot of people talk about the night vision, but truth is, every sense is better. I heard more, felt more, could taste and smell more, and, yes, saw better than the average human.
But humans can eat chocolate more than once a year without catastrophic medical issues, so I think it about balances out.
"Miss Monday, I distinctly remember hiring you for your organisational skills and your track record of dealing with HR claims in the main branch- not for your opinions," an old, nasal voice said.
That would be Hans Geier- a crotchety old bastard, who made Monday's show this morning look downright saintlike.
"Hans, I have to agree with Alexis on this. This plan is ill-thought-out at best, downright suicidal otherwise. I- the number of best-case scenarios that would have to happen to keep it from backfiring-" Andebern joined in, making this conversation three for three on major administrative staff.
"Enough," Geier cut him off, before taking a calming breath. "I will admit- I understand your fears. I was sceptical of it too when it was first proposed."
"When it was first proposed?" Monday asked.
"Yes, roughly 40 years ago, when you two were still suckling your mothers raw. This has been worked over as a thought experiment for decades- all that's changed is that it's no longer a thought experiment, because it has been developed to the point where it is perfectly safe. This isn't some random intern's mad idea to improve employee efficiency- no, that goes to whatever idiot decided to buy that stupid purple hunk of shit that that carrion-bird worker keeps fawning over."
I was shocked- one, he knew who I was, two, he knew what Rusty was, three, carrion-bird? Really?
… Eh, not the worst thing I've been called. And he didn't even say it to my face!
"D-David-"
"David?" Geier asked, the slightest hint of caution in his voice.
I heard Monday gulp. I could visualise it in my head- the threat of what he'd do plain in his eyes if she ever blundered like that in his presence again. I felt my nails sting against my palm, and fought to unclench them.
"... 2837," Alexis corrected herself, "is… enthusiastic, about his job. The exosuits are just… temperamental. They weren't meant to work at such high altitudes, and not for so long without consistent access to replacement parts. What he does is, nothing short of miraculous, sir. I- this is irrelevant to the topic at hand!"
"Geier- this plan is ridiculous," Andebern stepped in. "The workers are- well they're not happy, but they're hardly sharpening the guillotines for us either. Even ignoring our personal objections to it, I hardly see how this project is necessary."
"Its lack of true necessity is why we're the perfect test bed. If the worker's conditions were perfect, it would be useless- if the workers were, as you so succinctly put it, sharpening the guillotines, it would be the straw that broke the camel's back. We are… middling, and for once, that works in our favour."
```"Sir-"
"Oh for God's sake, for once in your pathetic lives, use that shared braincell of yours and think! All those people out there, debtors, criminals, people who owe the company tens of thousands in Lien, and we waste it on-"
The rustle of paper, and the legs of glasses unfolding.
"Let's see- central heating, access to medical assistance in the event of an accident, post-accident therapy, special dietary needs- we have spent 3000 Lien in the past week alone on various bone-in meats, for a few debtors, including- ah, our old friend 2837. Alexis? Would you like to explain that one to me?"
"H-he's a breed of Faunus related to the bearded vulture, sir. His digestive system is designed to subsist off of bone and marrow from carrion. The food served to others in the cafeteria would make him severely ill, as it would quite a few other Faunus who are obligate carnivores."
Geier only responded with an irritated grumble- either he didn't have a problem with that state of affairs once he understood it, or he was smart enough to keep it to himself.
"Madness. Utter madness! We spend all this money on-on-on feeding and clothing and treating people who couldn't appreciate it with a gun to their heads! They should be thanking us for everything we give them, for the rare opportunity to work off their debts, and yet we still get complaints of-" he cut himself off with a burst into laughter, "damaged heating systems and cockroach infestations! They live lives that people in Mantle dream of, the privilege to make something of themselves, and all we get in return is complaints."
The last word came out as a low, sibilant hiss- the sound of a man struggling to contain his rage in just a whisper.
I knew he didn't have a very high opinion of us, but… Brothers.
"... Well," he continued, when neither Andebern nor Monday had anything to say. "There will be fewer complaints after this is rolled out. Much fewer."
I could hear the tension in the air- the need to say something, but something about Geier must have cowed them.
"... Oh, relax. Look- since you don't trust me, for whatever reason, to know what I'm talking about, trust this instead. The Schnee Dust Company did not become a world-leading corporation by entertaining ideas that threaten its profit margin. If corporate didn't have the utmost confidence in this plan-"
"You're a monster," Alexis blurted out. "A monster trying to excuse the fact that you are putting people's lives at risk so you don't have to spend a Lien more on ensuring they're not living in utter squalor."
Like he said; the Schnee Dust Company did not become a world-leading corporation by entertaining ideas that threaten its profit margin.
"Miss Monday, you are very obviously stressed out by this conversation, and out of respect for your usual quality of work, I will be kind and overlook that outburst. Now get back to work before I fire you both."
After a moment of shocked silence, the next thing I heard was a door opening, and then slamming shut.
"Tch. Bloody impudent woman. A woman and a Mantle-born, no wonder this place is going to the dogs..." Geier grumbled out his frustrations. Soon, it turned to wordless growling and the sound of violent pen strokes.
I creeped away from the window and back onto the path, trying to pat out the dirt stain on one knee from settling under the wall for so long, and walked to the admin building's entrance. I reached for the handle to pull it open-
Just in time to need to back away before Monday slammed the door into my nose on her way out of the building. At least I knew why she was in a foul mood, for once- at least, I thought it was a foul mood, at first, but then I actually…
Looked.
The near-miss snapped her out of it- she looked at me, and instead of her usual cold demeanour, or anger, she was…
Stunned. Like a deer in headlights. For a moment, she just stared at me, blank and uncomprehending.
… What had she been told?
"... David," Alexis said after a moment, sounding for all the world like her mind was a thousand miles away. "Uh… can, can I help you?"
Hesitation did not fit Alexis Monday. I was watching my view of her crumble away and there was nothing I could do to show it without forcing some very awkward questions for both of us.
"I, er… could we, talk? In private?" I asked her.
She blinked slowly, but eventually nodded at me.
"O-of course. Shall we... take a walk?"
|||
The Range, for all it was a mining camp, did have its pleasant spots. It wasn't situated in the proper forests that grew halfway up the mountain range, but it had its share of firs, cedar, and yew. All along the outer paths of the camp, where the SDC's reign of terror on the local ecology ended, the heather was out in full bloom- a thick carpet of purples and pinks, deep enough to lose your feet in. We were walking along one of those outside paths, still silent for the moment.
Eventually, though, I just couldn't take it anymore, and I had to say something to get the ball rolling. Unfortunately, that was around the exact same time Alexis had the same idea.
"I, I have to apologi-""About this morning, I want to-"
We stopped, looking at each other in surprise.
"... You go first?" Alexis ventured.
I shrugged, figuring, hell, why not. It's what I came here to do.
"I… wanted to apologise for my outburst this morning. I shouldn't have said the things I did, and I apologise profusely for i-"
Alexis cut me off with laughter. I was so stunned by the sound of Ms Monday laughing at all that I didn't even get the chance to decide whether I was angry or not at being laughed at in the middle of an apology.
She doubled over, her peals of laughter quickly devolving into snickering, holding out a hand to gesture that she needed a minute. By the time she'd recovered, her face was red, and she had to blink back tears before they stained her face.
"Ah… ha… I-I'm sorry, David. I didn't- I wasn't laughing at you, I promise," she said, and I wasn't sure I could believe that. "The truth is… I was actually going to apologise to you for the exact same thing."
I blinked. She giggled at my confusion, but at least this time it was only a few seconds.
"David, I… I'm sorry. I did what I did because I was in a terrible mood and you were an easy target to take it out on, and I was mortified at my own behaviour as soon as I realised what I'd done. You are… for all your quirks, a consummate professional who shows incredible passion for his work, and I was wrong to discount you like that, let alone try and lay the blame of anything going wrong with Rusty at your feet. That wasn't fair, and I cannot put into words how much I regret doing it."
… I couldn't say anything. I couldn't begin to find the words to say.
So… I didn't. I stood there, dumbstruck for a good few seconds until I realised the only way I was going to sanely react to it was by downplaying everything about it.
"... Uh… yeah, well… it looks like we both feel the need to apologise, so… I'll accept yours if you accept mine?"
Yeah, it was lame, but it was the best I could come up with in the middle of my brain skipping a gear, sue me. Still, she smiled at me and got her giggles under control before they could come back with a vengeance.
"It's a deal," she said, looking me up and down. "But… I don't think you came to apologise out of the goodness of your heart, did you?"
Busted. I put my hands up, not even bothering to hide it.
"You got me," I said, "I am, in theory, here under duress. The band and I, we were… we had an idea on something to do for the field trip that's happening after Candlemas. Connie suggested it, I mentioned that I may have not been on best terms with you anymore, After a while, we realised the only way that would change would be if I came here and apologised."
Alexis snorted, but there was something in her eyes. A flicker of the blues laid just so in the corners of her eyes.
"Let me guess- you want to hold a concert," she said. "I… appreciate your passion for the project, but that would require quite a lot of setup. Time, effort, money..."
"We'll take care of everything! We've been doing this for years now, we could set up our equipment in our sleep! All we need is your say-so, and for you to actually add us to the list."
There it was again- a slight crinkle, the way she knit her brow- something was bothering her and I had a pretty good idea what.
"Look," I said, "I'll sweeten the deal. You give me your blessing on this right here, right now, and I'll personally make sure Rusty doesn't break down once for the next week. Out of your hair entirely, won't even need to think about her."
She blinked, and the blues gave way to a sly little smirk.
"A week? I couldn't begin to relax long enough to take on the stress of planning a concert and sanitising your tracklist in a week. A month."
"Week and a half."
"4 weeks."
"Two."
For a moment, she was silent, and I wondered if I'd pushed my luck more than I should have, asked for too much in exchange for too little.
Then Alexis Monday smiled, and offered me her hand.
"It's a deal."
I took it with a grin, thanked her profusely, and tried not to think too hard about why she was acting like she'd never see this concert happen.
Spectral Waltz
Scatterbrained Writer
- Location
- Walking the Endless Corridors
Is this something that's actually connected to the main story at all? Or is this just a side-story of no consequence?
Because while this is cool and I want to see more of it, if it's of no consequence to the rest of the quest then it should be in its own thread shouldn't it?
Because while this is cool and I want to see more of it, if it's of no consequence to the rest of the quest then it should be in its own thread shouldn't it?
Akasha
The Only Truth
- Location
- 「̛̛́́ ͏̨҉̕͏ ͏̶̴」
@Spectral Waltz
The following quote...
In combination with this one...
Strongly foreshadows the SDC pulling an atrocity that will either be witnessed by Beacon representatives, or whose consequences will be encountered by said people. Assuming, of course, that there are no stealth time skips hidden in the chapter, which result in the field trip being already finished by the time Stereotypical Greedy Racist Corpo introduces his fancy new idea. Since the trip will consist of first year students, and our MC is a first year student...
The following quote...
In combination with this one...
Strongly foreshadows the SDC pulling an atrocity that will either be witnessed by Beacon representatives, or whose consequences will be encountered by said people. Assuming, of course, that there are no stealth time skips hidden in the chapter, which result in the field trip being already finished by the time Stereotypical Greedy Racist Corpo introduces his fancy new idea. Since the trip will consist of first year students, and our MC is a first year student...
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Spectral Waltz
Scatterbrained Writer
- Location
- Walking the Endless Corridors
Except that said trip hasn't been mentioned at all within the story proper before this point, and while that sometimes happens with fanfic where the canon timeline is simply assumed to be understood by the readers in order to remove the need for said foreshadowing, in this case the trip isn't an element in the canon either.
Between those two points and the further fact that nothing to actually specifically identify these events as taking place in the same universe. (No mention of any elements from Transistor, no process, etc.) the probability that the entire thing is apocryphal is a distinct possibility, especially with prok's ambiguous author's note at the start.
While it seems like it could be a part of the quest, it also at the same time currently feels very disconnected. There's never been any mention of a Beacon first year trip before this point. At least, no mention that I remember.
As a result, this feels like it could all-too-easily be a part of an entirely different fanfic.
ADeshantis
King on the Chromium Throne
- Location
- United states
Ohhh no Weiss is going to shit a brick when we accidentally Process a Schnee DIC out of sheer rage.
Good to see you again, Prok!
I don't regret the acronym for Debt Internment Camp and will use it forevermore now that I've thought about it.
Good to see you again, Prok!
I don't regret the acronym for Debt Internment Camp and will use it forevermore now that I've thought about it.
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- Location
- Southern USA
There also hasnt been any mention of any of those criminal syndicates, the fact the workers have exosuits for work, or that faunus can have traits the alter their dietary needs in canon. Proks allowed to add stuff as he pleases- as he already has. I like transistor, but theres not exactly a lot of stuff he could have added to make it feel less 'disconnected'.
The reason it's included is right there at the start of the chapter, though?
Spectral Waltz
Scatterbrained Writer
- Location
- Walking the Endless Corridors
Fair points made, I just felt a little off-kilter after reading the first time and wanted to express that.
- Location
- Philippines
Good to see ya back @Prok, I hope life gets better. I was totally excited to see ya update, though I hope things get better for you RL.
But while Geier getting fed to Grimm or tossed hogtied for Adam to torture is justice I'd love to see. I highly doubt he's gonna get his commupance anytime soon.
And this interlude felt disconnected from the story. Which you admittedly said straight up. Don't get me wrong the characters are interesting and compelling, from David and his friends, to Alexis Monday and Andebern being actual human beings with working empathy. To the robotic marvel that is Rusty and the little touches in detail that make the chsoter come alive.
But then the tone just gets kinda ruined by piece of shit like Geier. Some tragedy is probably gonna happen or something and while the detail about how an actual half way functioning SDC mine can work not as a slave camp and the dietary and physiological differences and needs of a faunus depending on what type they are is fascinating to read and definitely good pieces of writing.
The fact it'll go from functional if bare work place, to slave labor camp because Geier and other SDC higher ups want to experiment and save cash the short term kinda makes me regret getting even a bit emotionally invested because this is just gonna end in tears. Either in a slave revolt violently put down, or the hatred and discontent Geier deliberately and idiotically provokes because he's a stereotype of evil corporate businessman get a grimm attack on them, or both.
Though who would've donated the instruments. I guess we'll find out later.
But while Geier getting fed to Grimm or tossed hogtied for Adam to torture is justice I'd love to see. I highly doubt he's gonna get his commupance anytime soon.
And this interlude felt disconnected from the story. Which you admittedly said straight up. Don't get me wrong the characters are interesting and compelling, from David and his friends, to Alexis Monday and Andebern being actual human beings with working empathy. To the robotic marvel that is Rusty and the little touches in detail that make the chsoter come alive.
But then the tone just gets kinda ruined by piece of shit like Geier. Some tragedy is probably gonna happen or something and while the detail about how an actual half way functioning SDC mine can work not as a slave camp and the dietary and physiological differences and needs of a faunus depending on what type they are is fascinating to read and definitely good pieces of writing.
The fact it'll go from functional if bare work place, to slave labor camp because Geier and other SDC higher ups want to experiment and save cash the short term kinda makes me regret getting even a bit emotionally invested because this is just gonna end in tears. Either in a slave revolt violently put down, or the hatred and discontent Geier deliberately and idiotically provokes because he's a stereotype of evil corporate businessman get a grimm attack on them, or both.
Though who would've donated the instruments. I guess we'll find out later.
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RoninSword
Sky God
- Location
- Canada
Very much wondering what initiative can only be implemented at a facility where the inmates are around 'average' in terms of morale.
- Location
- Somewhere on Earth
Not necessarily only, just one that makes morale meaningless, while being very bad on morale. It's useless for a perfectly happy workforce, but one that'd be the straw to break the camel's back on a very unhappy one. In other words, it's a system that'd make them work at peak efficiency, whether or not they want to.
- Location
- Philippines
Simple. Take every bit of humane treatment away because it "costs too much money" and turn the "employees" from people in debt working in functional but strict conditions to literal slave labor to cut costs and improve production.
Nevermind that it'll literally lead to more controversy and bad press, mass deaths from overworked and ill slaves, slave revolts, grimm attacks from the negativity and more. Which will be even more expensive to deal with than just treating their workers humanely.
Basically, think every heartless, evil business man stereotype you can think of, and put them in charge of a literal megacorp on a death world with monsters attracted to negativity with all the lack of common sense and self preservation that implies.
Edit:.
I unironically, hope this interlude is supposed to be the beginning of the quest line that results in the Process devouring and impersonating Geier and the rest of the corrupt SDC higher ups. Jaune's little AI godling needs some practice emulating biomatter and helping humanity afterall. Pulling a kill and switch on the SDC board of directors lets them do both.
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