28

The vision of Rhodes was foggy now.

In return, now he didn't leave her vision ever, but she'd adjusted.

All she'd needed was time.

This was all supposed to be temporary anyways. Would be. Especially now.

Another gentle brush of mascara gently lapped at her lashes.

Her amber eyes watched as Robin happily painted her face with cosmetics that made her feel ridiculous.

But Robin was wearing them too. That made her feel closer, even if her gut twisted.

Robin was sitting sidesaddle in her lap, humming as she applied 'delicate touches' to her face.

Which was ridiculous. Nothing about her body had ever felt particularly delicate. Her hands were rough and calloused. Sometimes they got dry on cold nights, though they'd softened lately from Robin's gentle ministrations of lotions and creams.

She didn't even begin to understand the difference. Only that Robin's hands felt soft and gentle on her own.

The soft atmosphere was comforting. She wanted to stay, but that'd be a lie. She would miss it all though. She was allowed to miss it. Robin had taught her that she was allowed such emotions, for better or for worse.

Maybe if she was raised like a normal girl she'd be more embarrassed or disgusted by Robin's strange and almost mothering behavior. How she always seemed to strive to smother her with friendship and affection.

She… she'd come to love it.

"There~" Her voice was melodic, "Now isn't that pretty."

"If you say so, Robin." Her voice was a bit raspy. "You'd know best."

"Don't say that." She frowned, sounding actually faintly upset, "I'm not lying to you."

Her eyes shot open, her amber eyes flickering to meet the smaller girl's baby blues.

"No. That's not what I meant. I just-" She took a deep breath. "I don't think I'm very pretty." She admitted truthfully.

She'd lived all her life being told a slew of horrible things. While she was sure they must have lied plenty to drag her down, it didn't stop herself from coming to agree with it over time.

"Amber." The false name that she hated still made her heart beat comfortably when it came from Robin's lips, "I promise, you're beautiful."

"I… ok."

Robin laughed as she slipped off of her lap, pulling her by hand to the bathroom.

Rhode's ghost followed along with an unreadable face.

The girl she saw in the mirror couldn't be her.

She looked like Robin. Not in that she physically looked like her, but that she was pretty, dainty, elegant, dozens of adjectives that didn't belong to her but were suddenly hers.

A dark thrill leapt through her heart.

"See? I told you. You're beautiful."

"...how?"

"Well, a little makeup can work wonders if used properly and decently, but, well…" Robin flushed a bit, a faint pinkness accenting the powder blush already applied to her own cheeks, "I suppose it already had quite a pretty canvas to work with."

She knew Robin was teasing her, but she couldn't stop her urge to hold the smaller girl, crouching down to meet her height and giving her a hug that she knew was too tight.

Robin just giggled at her, seemingly equally overjoyed as she hugged back.

"Thank you." She put everything into those two words, meaning every bit of it.

For everything. For being a strange, beautiful rock in a dark ocean. A siren's song. A sensation of cool velvet, soft and plush against her skin. For securing her with copper and iron, wrapping around her everything.

Because this night might be the last time she'd be able to say such a thing to her.

Weiss hated tight dresses.

The ribbon around her waist was done up too tight. Just ever so slightly too much, even if the deep royal blue was pretty at her back, tied up in a bow. She'd broached the topic with her attendant but they'd simply shaken their head, that it was the dress her father had paid for and had to be worn the right way.

It was silly. It would still be the right way with the ribbon loosened enough to allow one more finger of movement and breathing.

Whitley, the still sort of snot-nosed dweeb, was looking equally uncomfortable in his three piece tux, his neck being half-choked by a bow-tie because it had to look 'idyllic'.

They shared a look that a few months ago might have been ridiculing the other, but now was filled with pity for each other. Empathy.

"You look good sister. Uncomfortable, but good."

"As do you, brother. Stiff as starch, but good."

Whitley gave her a little pout that was a little cute. Just a little.

"You really always need to one up me at every opportunity, sister?"

"Only when necessary, brother."

"And is every opportunity necessary, then?"

"Perhaps." Weiss tried to not grin.

Whitley broke first though, letting out a snort, quickly covering his face, hoping that none of the attendants heard that.

"Careful." She warned quietly, but it lacked the meanness and heat it'd used to.

They were… what was the word her sister used, ah. Co-conspirators. They were co-conspirators now, and thus had to cover for each other when they made mistakes.

If they didn't take care of each other it would be harder to meet with Winter and if that meant being nice to her snotty brother, then she'd be the best older sister she could.

Jaune had told her that it defeated the purpose of her sister's intent, but Winter had just ruffled his hair once and that'd shut him up before he could continue talking further. What intent did he mean, though?

Also it was cute that he seemed to have a crush on her elder sister, but that would go nowhere. Winter deserved someone super amazing and impressive, like General Ironwood, but closer to her sister's age. Someone proper. And amazing.

Still his ears were soft and decently fun to play with for small bits of time. And she'd learnt after the first tug that she shouldn't do that, and had even apologized, even if Winter had sort of been the one that made her do so.

H-he had Aura, so he was fine, but it was an accident. Weiss hadn't meant to hurt his ears. She didn't feel like it was fair to have to apologize for an accident.

She did definitely feel bad though, when she'd heard him yelp.

What if that made him dislike her? That he suddenly got mad and stopped letting Winter meet with her and Whitley? Like how sometimes one of the Faunus housekeepers would just up and leave, crying, for reasons she didn't understand?

She'd apologize again later. Just in case.

Winter kept assuring her that Jaune was a good kid and that they should try to make friends, so she would offer up her hand in friendship properly next time. Yes, that would be the way. She'd sort of just assumed that maybe they were friends now, but perhaps officiating it would be the right way about it all.

Diplomacy was the path to… something. She'd have to recheck her notes later.

Weiss could think so much better if she could breathe!

She felt some fingers wiggle at the back of her bow, turning to see the sight of her younger brother loosening the bow ever so slightly.

He was going to get them in trouble!

She quickly reached back to retighten and adjust the ribbon, feeling her brother's wriggly little fingers slip under the ribbon. It almost made her laugh out loud from the ticklishness, as she tightened the bow.

He quickly stood by her side again, readjusting and brushing out any potential wrinkles in his dinner tuxedo jacket and putting up a smile like nothing was wrong.

Weiss also took a deeper breath of air before giving her sibling a polite nod.

"Hm? Is there something wrong, young lady Weiss? Young master Whitley?" A passing nurse inquired, one of the underlings to the mean Head Maid.

She was a snitch that tattled on everything 'improper' that she and Whitley would get involved in.

"Nothing at all." The two replied in unison, meeting each other's line of sight from the corner of their eyes.

They both could see the other bite at the inside of their lip to keep from laughing.

Clarent whistled long and slow, getting a few looks of distaste from the upper class of Atlas.

She didn't particularly care that much though.

"Please, Clarent. At least try to have some decorum." Winter whispered at her side, her stormy blue-gray eyes hiding a small spark of amusement. "You look great, don't ruin that first impression."

Clarent just grinned back, twirling a little in her shoulderless dress that came down just past her knees. It was an expensive looking royal blue with some little dark wine red roses that seemed to weave into some of the seams.

"What, this? I look ridiculous. This don't fit me one bit." She laughed, although she did reach up to gently brush her fingers against her hair. "This on the other hand, I could work with."

Jaune had gone from sister to sister randomly insisting that he do all of their hair, a basket of ribbons, little wildflowers, and various expensive looking pins, bits, and bobs. Apparently the good doctor Polendina had told him that the Starlight Eagle's Ball was a very big event that only happened every five years. That people were supposed to come in their best, and sometimes those that didn't look up to par could be ridiculed.

She was sure that it was just the man trying to make sure Jaune didn't try to attend in jeans and a t-shirt, but somehow her lil' brother'd gotten it in his head that he had to help defend his sisters' honor pre-emptively. He'd quoted some esoteric sounding phrase from some mook called Sun Tsu, who had to be some Mistralian philosopher or some other nonsense, but Clarent couldn't complain.

Her hair wasn't super long, but it was enough that she'd normally keep it in a bit of a sloppy, spiky ponytail, only maybe getting 'fancy' by adding a side braid that wove into the ponytail.

Jaune had gone and dolled her up with a few fancy braids that ended in a bun on the back of her head that was just tight enough to hold without being uncomfortable, a slew of little pretty bright blue and red flowers scattered throughout the braids that she'd felt pretty womanly for once.

Not like a girl but a woman.

"That is remarkably well done." Winter smiled, her hair was softly let loose today, draping straight and long like a silvery-white waterfall over her shoulder. She was wearing a slim, glimmering sleeveless and backless turtleneck dress with a slit that revealed her left leg up to her mid-thigh.

Honestly she was so pretty that Clarent was kinda questioning a bit of her own preferences.

Jaune had good taste.

"-Clarent? Clarent!"

"Hm? Yeah?"

"I was asking what salon you attended with your family."

"Oh! Yeah, uh, ahem." Clarent coughed, feeling a bit flush for a weird second, "In house. Jaune's got little magic fingers."

"...You must know how that sounds."

"Uhhhh. I mean nobody should be assuming anything, but yeah. Yeah I do. Jaune did up my hair. He did everyone's ma included."

Winter laughed, her eyes closing to flash her long lashes and tastefully smokey eyeshadow.

"I wonder if little Jaune will ever stop surprising us."

"He's a little box of madness, that kid." Clarent agreed with a toothy grin. "Our little box of madness though."

"Speaking of, where is he?"

"Uh… around? Prolly sticking by someone he can use as a shield to avoid attention. Or failing at it. Little brat brother loves attention when its absolutely on his terms and nothing else. Compliment his brains and he shuts like a steel trap, but compliment his music and he's all smiles." She shrugged, hooking her arm around her friend, feeling her Aura brush against that of Winter's cool ice and mountain lilies. "Shouldn't we go lookin' for your siblings? I still haven't gotten to meet them."

"Only by your own admittance that you're too loud." Winter rolled her eyes, a pair of silver earrings dangling softly from her lobes, "I'll remind you again that will require you to interact with my father. Which is a terrible idea. Just awful."

"You know how much I hang around Robin? I can be elegant if I need to be. I just choose not to. I promise that at least I won't directly embarrass ya or be up front rude to your sperm donor."

"It's the best I can ask for." Winter sighed, a wry smile forming on her lips, shining with a faintly sparkly pink gloss. "...Can I ask you a question though?"

"Shoot."

"...Why go so far for me? We… we were literally strangers two months ago."

Clarent shrugged.

"Honestly? Eh. I just like ya, I guess. Being friends witcha's just a good time, weirdly enough. You're way too uptight and wound up, but its fun messing with that and seeing how ya react."

Winter took a deep breath through the nose, then let it out again.

"And you're not normal for Mistralian standards?"

"Absolutely not. Closer to Vale, I'd say. Where my ma and pa are from even if we came to Mistral for some reason."

"Hmmm. It's good that I stayed in Atlas to meet you-"

"Dawww"

"-but perhaps Beacon might have been an interesting option should I have had the patience to wait three more years."

"Well too bad!" Clarent wound her arm tighter around her friend. "You're stuck with an Arc now. Shame. You had such a long life to live."

"With your recklessness I'd expect it to be the other way around."

"Naw, I'll drag you down with me."

"Naturally. After your embroiling yourself in my affairs, I'd be an awful friend if I didn't throw myself into a Grimm's maw for you in turn."

The two shared a few soft giggles, keeping their laughter to a 'polite' level as the Starlight Eagle's Ball began to commence.

Juniper watched as Jaune shook another hand.

The poor boy would rub his shoulder sockets into sand at the rate that he had to agree to at least a short bit of conversation with everyone that came up to meet him.

At least his poor little brother would at least know which ones came with ill intent as well as negative views on his Faunus heritage.

Honestly that was a boon that normal people absolutely didn't get.

And while he couldn't borderline read minds like Nora insisted (Jaune said she was easier to read because she wore her heart on her sleeve) he'd become pretty proficient in getting some insights into Jaune's thoughts.

Pyrrha helped.

He chuckled as he felt her warm inside.

"I'll give you a dance later." He promised quietly. "Won't be the same as back at Beacon, but I'd like to dance with you."

Her warmth sang within him.

He smiled as he basked in that, regardless noting which people Jaune clearly didn't like or trust while maintaining a smiling poker face.

Still in the corner of his eyes he looked out at the decorations on the ballroom floor.

It was a large marble building built just on the edge of Atlas, behind the mountainous peaks that Atlas Academy was built upon. Only accessible by either a luxurious tunnel with motorcars under the Academy or via Bullhead, used only for special occasions… outside of the yearly Senior Ball for the graduating Academy class.

Or so he'd overheard at some point.

Truth is that it was just a very open space held inside a heated space that vaguely resembled a cathedral. There were tables lined with food and plenty of arranged seating to go and rest one's feet or sit down to eat. There were numerous balconies that could be accessed, warmed by the orange glow of heat lamps. Each little archway leading outside were decorated by slightly different colored flowers arranged into a bouquet.

A bit odd that the two kinds of roses that he saw were specifically not red, though. Pink and white. Odd choice to avoid red roses when they were easier to get, but perhaps that was the 'luxury' of it all. The only red flowers were… Juniper thought they were called orchids.

Either way he'd flown outside just enough to see that every archway led to a little private alcove.

Likely to allow private conversation or other such private moments that students especially must have taken advantage of.

There was even a little knob to put up a privacy display to prevent being spied upon. Just a heavy blurring that used a VI to edit out the occupants in a hologram. Simple stuff, but useful.

Almost impressive and mindful, if he wasn't sure that the real reasoning was for Huntsmen and Huntresses in the peak of physical form celebrating their graduating year (sometimes with slightly younger, but still above age dates) in the only way that they could get through their hormonal heads.

Sucking face alone wouldn't have been enough to justify this drastic a level of technology.

The muffled sound of applause and the beginning of the opening speech for the Ball must have been what he was hearing from inside.

Juniper phased back into the room to watch some wrinkled man with a fake orangish tan begin to give some officious speech, calling to the 'old guard' and the defense of the Kingdom and a slew of other Atlasean propaganda that he'd been sick of even when he was alive.

He promptly tuned out as he felt Pyrrha's warmth within.

"As discussed over our earlier private meetings," General Ironwood guided Jaune to one of the private outer balconies that looked out below into Northern Mantle (the prettier and better part of the city), "These are the volunteers for the NIKKE program we wished to initiate."

"Aren't the prosthetics enough?" Jaune questioned worriedly, finding it difficult to read the General's intent as something odd buzzed under his Aura. "This… this isn't like how it was with Auntie Summer. She would have died if I hadn't, but-"

"They are volunteers." The General was gentle but firm. "Nobody is forcing this upon them. Nor have we made any attempt to. Two of them are suffering from terminal illnesses that luckily doesn't affect their brain matter. Another had a sting recently from an Elder Deathstalker, luckily survived the poison due to her teammate's sacrifice of her own antivenom. It didn't save her from what muscular dystrophy that followed. The last suffered a spinal injury that has left her mostly paralyzed. All four of these women are those whose Huntress careers and lives were destroyed by this cruel world."

The General knelt down to meet Jaune's eyes, while he was always muted and hard to read, Jaune coudn't mistake the concern and determination in the older man's eyes.

"And while Atlas will take care of those that fight in service to their Kingdom, they are now living half lives. I want to give them a chance. A chance to be themselves again. To be the heroines of Atlas that they are. Please at least meet them, Jaune."

Jaune felt it was almost unfair how personal the buttons the General pushed were.

"Sure, I. I'll meet them. I should get back for dinner service with my family right after, though."

"That's all I ask." General Ironwood gave him a small smile and a pat on the back. "This way."

The holographically altered doorway opened up. Four women sitting in wheelchairs turned in their direction, only three of them having the ability to salute, none able to sit up, though one of them was able to lift herself from her chair enough to straighten her back.

She was tall and a bit withered looking, though her wide shoulders and bone structure suggested she'd once been rather muscular, even if now her skin had shrunken over her somewhat gaunt frame.

"At ease, please ladies. Especially you, Corporal Elm. Your muscular dystrophy only worsens the more you force yourself."

"That won't matter if the Little Professor fixes me up though, sir. I just wanted to thank him for giving us some time. Plus I'd prefer Private First Class. Hard to accept a promotion given for becoming bedridden, sir."

Jaune swallowed, seeing the sight of blackened and blotchy veins against the young woman's dark tanned skin. She looked like she was from South Mistral, by the coastlands where it was more tropic, an odd sight for Atlas. But she reminded him of Summer's eyes, ripped and torn by the Villain Tyrian, the scorpion Faunus.

"That's no excuse for straining yourself further like this, Cor-Private." Ironwood ordered, "Sit back down properly. I can see your Semblance trying to keep you sitting upright."

Jaune saw that under a blanket, there was a soft glow of soft green Aura, tinged with faint brown, that seemed to meld and root itself into the stonework as the muscled woman fought to pull up and keep her back straight.

"Sorry, sir." The light retreated as she sat back into her chair.

"We're both fortunate that your Semblance doesn't cause any damage to the ground beneath you." He sighed, though a sad smile pulled at his lips. "It would have caused no shortage of headaches for the Academy."

"I've been a graduate for two years, General. With all due respect, you don't need to play Headmaster with me, sir."

"Apologies, Private First Class Elm. I simply look after all of my own to what extent I can."

The other women shared weak chuckles alongside Elm.

"What… what happened?" Jaune asked the woman with the spider crawl of black veins. "Deathstalkers don't show up often in Solitas. It's usually too cold for them."

"Ah, but they still exist, Little Professor. Grimm activity's been pretty active lately for reasons we can't understand. Suddenly got more activity from them around Spring, so the Army's been trying to clear them more aggressively for the protection of Mantle. We unfortunately dug up an old one from our boots on the ground is all. Occupational hazard." Private Elm gave him a casual grin, wincing as it stretched a patch of blackening skin on a cheek.

"...and you're all ok with this? I… I wasn't intending on making anyone a Nikke. What happened to Auntie Summer just happened and I had to make a split second decision, this is-"

"Even should we die, it would be better than living like this." One of the women, a shock of short cropped red hair spoke, her voice weak. "If there was a plug to pull, I'd have requested it already."

"Annette! Gentler words, please. The young doctor's still a child." A sickly looking blonde woman with a braid that came down over her right shoulder warned. "There's no need to be so blunt."

She turned to Jaune with gentle doe eyes that made him feel guilty just standing there and doing nothing about it.

"Apologies. Annette and I are suffering from late stage thyroid cancer. It hasn't been good for her sense of propriety or her mentality to life in general. And Solina over there is paralyzed so she cannot speak. She can barely move a few fingers and communicate via messages."

Jaune swallowed, feeling like his tongue had become a rock as he stared at the brunette whose fingers twitched just enough to finally spell out 'Hello' on a small keypad. A silver necklace with a lion's head hung off her neck.

"This is why-"

"I'll do it." Jaune interrupted the General, his hands clenching against the slacks over the front of his thighs. "I'll-I… Nobody deserves this. Just let me prepare for a few days. Fill out a materials form and get photos of everyone before…"

He swallowed. His throat hurt. His stomach felt like a chunk of iron had settled in it uncomfortably.

"I'll try to make you all look as close to how you all looked before. I'll… I'll try."

He shuddered as an overwhelming sense of relief and hope erupted from the four women in front of him, washing over him and bursting away their dread and sorrow, though it still lingered underneath like some sickly vinaigrette, not mixing together quite right.

The General's hand on his shoulder also felt like grinding gears and steel, his Aura muting his emotions, but the relief and satisfaction was clear.

"Whatever you need, Jaune, I'll make sure we get it out to you in spades. Thank you so much. You're saving the lives of good women and soldiers."

"I-yeah. C-can I go inside? I think I-I need something warm to drink."

"Of course, of course. I'm sorry to have ruined your night with something so heavy-"

"No! That's not. It's ok. It's not like that. You're just trying to help them. I get it. You're a hero, General. That-this is important. More important than just me. They're heroes and they don't deserve… that."

So why did he feel so awful?