It was hard to tell what the best course of action would be involving Torchwick. A supposed “master thief” who undoubtedly had members of the local law enforcement in his pockets along with whoever his mysterious backer was and this “Neo” person that had been mentioned briefly. There were too many variables at play, too many opportunities for the man to be broken out and back on the streets, or, if his capture was looked upon in a particularly unfavorable light, perhaps even killed to ensure his silence. For the moment, he was being held under a sort of house arrest/ witness protection scheme. Locked away in an available Beacon room with a team of fully fledged Huntsmen guarding him at all times. It was the best they could come up with for now, at least until the others were captured as well… or rather, that’s what the council had claimed. When even the slightest possibility of the criminal escaping was brought up, the cowards were all too eager to make him Beacon’s problem, not wanting to deal with the criticism that losing him would bring. They would not hear any complaints about the school not being properly fitted to house prisoners or that this could be a potential danger to the students. “You’re running a school for Huntsmen,” they had said, “Surely you’re able to handle one man. We have the utmost faith in your abilities!”

The whole affair was quickly becoming a massive headache for Ozpin and Goodwitch, to the point that the headmaster was seriously considering calling in Ironwood to hold the thief on an entirely different continent. The potential political fallout was not a hornet’s nest he was eager to poke at though…

“Maybe I should just retire or something.” Ozpin’s musings were interrupted by Qrow’s continued whining.

“I have already told you Qrow, the occasional mishap like this is no reason for you to hang up your weapon. It has been quite a while since I last took a day off. Even if this was medical leave…” Oobleck tried to reassure him, “Semblances are tricky things to control at times, and with one like yours… Well, these things happen.”

“Give it up, Bart, the man just likes to complain.” Glynda’s patience with the alcoholic had worn thin long ago, “He’ll be back in the field in no time, and then this will happen again, and again-”

“I do not! My complaints about my semblance working against me are perfectly valid!” The man in question cried out.

“Enough.” Ozpin put a stop to it. “Let’s focus on what we can do in the here and now. The information we got out of the White Fang members has amounted to nothing of significance, but Torchwick…” They eyed the door to his room, the two Huntsmen who were standing guard outside it pointedly ignoring their conversation, less they somehow draw the ire of Glynda. The team had graduated recently enough that they still feared her.

Qrow gave a heavy sigh. “So how are we doing this then? Good cop bad cop?”

“No,” Ozpin replied, “I will go in alone. Watch through the cameras, see if there’s anything you can pick up on.”

The decision was not a popular one with the group, but he soon found himself entering the room by himself with the others watching the video feed on Glynda’s scroll. Installing the camera in the room at the last minute had been a hassle, and a decision that really should not get out to the student body lest they start some unsavory rumors, but they really couldn’t afford to take any chances…

Roman’s eyes were on him like a hawk as he entered, watching him from his spot on the bed, laid back like he was without a care in the world. Stripped down to only a basic set of slacks and a t-shirt, it was odd to see the man without his usual get up, but the clothing he had been arrested in was currently sitting under lock and key along with his weapon. You could never trust that someone as experienced as him would not be hiding tools on his person.

“So the top dog himself has decided to grace me with his presence? And after being part of the group to bring me in as well. Why, if I didn’t know better I might think that you have some sort of ulterior motive here. Trying to get some alone time with me?” His tone was suggestive, but Ozpin had been playing this game for far, far longer than the man before him. He knew when he was being sized up.

“I’m afraid I’m only here to ask you a few questions.” Ozpin stayed standing, content to stay on the other side of the room. “Let’s start with an easy one, shall we? How exactly did you come to be working with the White Fang of all groups? Seeing you alongside them, why, even I was a bit shocked at that.”

The ginger rolled his eyes. “You know how it is. Everyone with plans needs cannon fodder and fall guys. The council throws citizens into Mountain Glenn, you throw impressionable students at the grimm, I throw White Fang at the cops. Or at least, that was the plan. Hadn’t exactly accounted for you lot to show up. How did you know I was going to be there?”

The mention of such a tragedy was a low blow, but Ozpin had faced loss before. But the look on the man’s face, the slight microexpressions made when asking the question…

Interesting. He has some idea of how he was found out, but he’s seeking confirmation. Obviously he must be thinking it a betrayal of some sort, but who?

“Now Roman, you and I both know that an information source that led to your arrest isn’t something I’ll be willing to share with you.”

“You can’t blame a man for trying,” he shrugged, obviously not having expected a straight answer.

“How about your benefactor then? Willing to tell me anything about them? I can’t imagine that you’ve gone down this route by choice, so if you’re being threatened…” He left the end of the sentence up in the air, but the implication was pretty clear.

Roman laughed. “Huntsman, headmaster, and comedian? I didn’t know you had so many talents!”

No dice on that front, but they could always try again later. There was one last matter that could potentially provoke a reaction. Of course, it couldn’t be guaranteed that he would even recognize the name. It could be that they used a different name when working with him, or perhaps they hadn’t even met yet. But it didn’t hurt to try.

“I see. Is it just as humorous when I ask about Neo?”

It seemed that was the right question to ask. Roman couldn’t quite clamp down on his initial surprise in time to hide it. He was quiet for a moment though. Contemplative.

“It’s a dangerous game you’re playing there, Ozpin.” For the first time since his capture, the man looked serious. “I would be careful of who you trust, were I in your position.”

Perhaps this interrogation would be fruitful after all.

----------------------------------------

Mercury knew better than to ask stupid questions.

Or rather, he knew there was a time and a place for them. When he and Emerald were alone? They were a great way to annoy her.

But now? When Cinder looked absolutely livid? The stupid questions could be left to her little lap dog.

“So… What’s the plan now? With Roman and Neo gone…” And hadn’t that been a kick while they were down? Roman gets caught like some chump and then Neo skips town on them as soon as the news gets out.

“Quiet!” Her eyes shone and her hands flared up. If it hadn’t been Emerald to ask, there would likely be a new scorch mark and a pile of ashes on the ground.

“I am thinking. We knew Roman was a worthless rat, but to think he would be captured like this…” Cinder starting her annoying rants was a good sign that he would live through the night. “Neo has likely infiltrated Beacon by this point, trying to keep a closer eye on him. Though with the amount of dust he had already collected… We move forward as planned.”

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

He had known that Cinder was crazy since he met the woman, but for her to suggest moving forward as planned when a key fall guy was imprisoned way sooner than he should have been? That was a new level, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

“The two of you will have to pick up the pieces he has left behind. I hadn’t wanted the two of you to be directly involved with the festival quickly approaching, but it would seem we have no choice. We’ll simply have to meet up with our final teammate when we arrive at Beacon and dole out some… corrective measures.”

Well damn. That wasn’t good… but at least now he would actually get to do something instead of just sitting around and pretending to be some goody two-shoes. Of course, she hadn’t brought up how, exactly, the huntsmen had found Roman, or what they were going to do to counter that, but if the two women with him weren’t going to bring it up, he wasn’t about to risk his neck.

“But rest assured, if the two of you are caught…” Her eyes fell to him, which, okay, fair, he wasn’t the one with the hallucination semblance, “I can assure you that you won’t be living out a quiet life in prison.”

Always the threats with her. Oh well. He’d just have to go relax by doing the same to someone else. Roman was supposed to be taking out some trash soon, wasn’t he? Some White Fang traitor schmuck. That would be a good start…

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“Tukson’s Book Trade, eh? Why, I do believe we’ve found the right place!” Port bellowed.

“Indeed it does. Why don’t you keep watch, and let me do the talking?” Oobleck replied.

Peter laughed. “Of course, of course! I’m more of a man of action myself, I’ll leave the boring details to you!”

The pair entered the store, Port hanging around the entrance, doing an awful job of looking nonchalant, while Bart walked up to the counter. The man behind it did not appear to be obviously Faunus, but if Second Thoughts was correct in that his trait was extendable claws, that was to be expected.

“Hello there, am I correct in assuming that you are the Tukson of Tukson’s book trade?” he began.

“Yes…” It was clear that he was on edge, though he put up a decent front. His demeanor would still appear open and friendly to any average customer who walked in, but Bart was trained for this sort of thing. “Is there something you need help with?”

“On the contrary, sir, it is I who would like to help you. My name is Bartholemew, but you can call me Bart if you would like.” He pulled up his school identification, showing that he was both a Huntsman and an employee of Beacon. “Would you be willing to enter a witness protection program?”

The man chuckled uneasily. “Why would I need to do that?”

“Although I cannot share certain details, I have reason to believe that your life is in danger.” Tukson tensed up. Did he perceive that as a threat? Perhaps he was already aware that he was in danger then. “Please do not misunderstand me. I can understand perfectly well the reasons why some would have chosen to join the White Fang in the past. I can also understand why you would want to leave now, seeing what it has become. I am a firm believer in the idea that people can learn from their mistakes and become a better person. However, that will not be possible if your enemies are successful in hunting you down.”

The man seemed indecisive. Like the offer tempted him, but he wasn’t sure that he could afford to trust someone at the moment.

“Please. Let me help you.”

After a long moment of tense silence, Tukson sighed. “My things are already packed. Let me go grab my bags.”

“Wonderful!” Peter called out, having grown bored of watching the passing crowds. “Let’s get a move on then, the sooner we can get you to safety, the better!”

Not even an hour later, Mercury and Emerald would find Tukson’s Book Trade closed, and its owner nowhere to be seen.

----------------------------------------

“And how are my favorite nieces doing?” Qrow scooped Yang and Ruby up in his arms, surprising them with an attack from behind. Teams RWBY and JNPR had been hanging out with Sun again, eagerly waiting for the rest of the foreign teams to show up so that they could both spend more time with Penny and meet the teams of their new friends. It seemed like Penny had no free time at all these days, but that probably had something to do with the fact that her guardian had gotten wind that she was spending so much time fraternizing with foreign teams. Atlas had always seemed like an insular bunch…

“Aren’t we your only nieces?” Yang asked, forcing her way out of his grip.

“Exactly, favorite eldest niece.” He rested his arm on Ruby’s head before turning his gaze down towards her. “Favorite youngest niece.” Ruby stuck her tongue out at him.

Sun whispered to Jaune. “Wasn’t their uncle supposed to be some super cool huntsman?” Though Sun had heard a decent number of stories about the man after learning about his trip to the hospital, this was his first time seeing the huntsman in person.

“Supposedly, but I’ve yet to see him in action.” Jaune whispered back.

Qrow is cool. But he’s an uncle first, huntsman second. He’s obligated to be embarrassing around those two. Hold your judgment until you see him in action.

If you say so…

“Bunch of brats.” It seemed Qrow had overheard them. “Keep on talking. Those attitudes are gonna be long gone when I stomp you into the ground-” A shiver went down Jaune’s spine, “-by proxy of my nieces.”

“...what?” Sun was just as confused as Jaune felt.

“I trained them, so they’re a decent indicator of how amazing I am… at times. So when they beat you, it’s like I beat you by proxy. The Vytal Festival is fast approaching, you know.”

Yang rolled her eyes at his words. “What my super lame uncle means to say-”

“Hey!”

“-is that we’re gonna kick your butts and he somehow thinks he gets the credit for that.”

Nora was never one to back down from a challenge. “Just you wait and see, team JNPR is going all the way to the top!” She emphasized her point by climbing up on Ren’s shoulders, putting her above the rest of them physically, if not in the future rankings for the tournament.

“Please get down.” Ren’s pleas went unheard, and he visibily resigned himself to being used as a jungle gym.

“As if,” Weiss crossed her arms and looked down her nose at them. “Team RWBY is clearly going to win.”

“Can you really say that with her on their team?” Sun pointed to Pyrrha, “I’ll give it my all, but I don’t think my team is going to make it past her. I’ve seen her spars.”

Pyrrha blushed as all the attention was drawn to her. “I’m not that much better…”

“Yet even when you try to downplay it, you agree that you’re at least somewhat better than us.” Blake deadpanned.

All of this talk about the festival was getting to Jaune’s nerves. Although he had kept up his extra training and was making good progress, he was still obviously a handicap to Pyrrha in a team vs team setting.

I’m not gonna ruin things for the team, am I?

Nah, I think you’ve got a good chance in the Vytal Festival. Things should be pretty easy for a lot of your match-ups with Pyrrha in the field, at least until…

Until…? Jaune prompted Second to continue.

…oh SHIT! Jaune I need you to pass on a message for me. I had completely forgotten that with Qrow… will that still cause… Maybe I should… no, no, it’ll be fine. Worst case scenario we can just subject ourselves to some scrutiny I’ve been trying to avoid…

You know, you’re kind of scaring me with this.

It’ll be fine, I just need to make sure someone hears something.

“Uh, Qrow?” Jaune spoke up.

“Yeah? Don’t tell me our stupid semblances are sending me to the hospital again or something.”

“No, or at least, I don’t think so? Second says you should message you-know-who and tell him something about a queen having pawns?”

Qrow looked like he wasn’t sure what to make of the message at first. “But he already… wait. You mean him? Why do I have to deal with him, can’t you just give us warnings instead of sending him cryptic bullshit and working him up into a frenzy? If you want me to say that then you know what he’s gonna do in response, right?”

Nobody in the group, including Jaune himself, could make a lick of sense out of what was being said. But it seems Second understood perfectly.

“He’s trying to stick to what he’s familiar with. The stupid response is necessary”

“What’s going to be necessary is me being blackout drunk to deal with that stupid-” Qrow’s words devolved into unhappy grumbles, but he pulled out his scroll all the same.

Are you sure that I shouldn’t be concerned about this? Jaune prompted once more.

…maybe. Honestly, getting drunk might be the appropriate response here.

Who exactly is he sending that message to?

You’ll see. All of Vale will see. The guy doesn’t understand subtlety.

Would it kill you to give straight answers?

Perhaps.