"The guy who can teleport is worried about obstacles." Diamond deadpanned, "It doesn't have to be an abandoned fortress on top of a rocky island in the middle of an ocean, but let's see if we can get to the survival grounds at least, or somewhere with trees, maybe Foreverfall?" she shrugged, "Anywhere but that flat sandpit really. I can build endurance fighting there, but there's hardly any skill involved as far as I care."

She couldn't decide on what to wear, so she waved Oswald to the bathroom. "Make a gurgling noise if you puncture a lung with a broken rib trying to button up a shirt. Or, you know, ask for help. Whatever floats your boat." Her eyes fell on her vest. Ah, memories. It used to be one of her garments of choice for breaking into homes. Momentarily she looked towards her right arm, wondering whether having no sleeves would be a bother. Well, you wanted to go back to the roots. She eventually shrugged and pulled the vest out of the closet along with form fitting cargo pants and heavy duty boots.

She finished her turn in the bathroom quickly with having a shower the evening before and made haste to dig everything she thought she might need to put her ideas into practice. She felt a little bit silly as she packed a math book for combat training, but when she thought about the fight from yesterday in detail, she got a few ideas that just might help her make a leap in her abilities. Gee, when you use science, analysis and planned approach, you might get results. Who knew? she thought bitterly, still a bit salty about the last mission. Well, at least most of the group agreed to do something about it. She would have to see how it goes.

Well, Lauren had already stolen the idea of dressing in Ben’s clothes, so she’d have to find some other way of messing with him. Didn’t mean she couldn’t still grab something of his to wear… A long pause, and she started rummaging through his wardrobe.

Five minutes later, and Amy had managed to squeeze her hips into a pair of Ben’s sweatpants, saying a short prayer for the strained fabric before digging through the wardrobe for a shirt. She’d snagged a t-shirt, was about to put it on-then she looked across the room to one of the bedposts. A smirk spread across her lips as she picked up the item of interest, glancing at it, then down at her bra.

A shrug.

May as well commit.

Finding Lauren wasn’t exactly a difficult matter, only as hard as chasing the calls for Ben to come collect his clothing that were echoing through the hallways. She walked after her quickly--not too quickly--before rounding a corner to see the boxer.

“I brought yours,” Amy said, grinning widely. She still had Ben’s sweatpants on, it wouldn’t do to miss this opportunity to mess with him (though they looked more like yoga pants on her), but above the waist… The contrast wasn’t as high between Amy’s ivory skin and the white coat as it was with Lauren’s, but she still wore it well… And totally braless.

@Plank Sinatra @Kaithas

They're going to kill me.

Bastille’s leader reached his conclusion calmly, as soon as Lauren rounded the corner and was followed swiftly by Amy. He wasn't entirely sure how they'd found him so quickly, but figuring it out was rapidly taking a back seat to issues bursting at pushing their way to the forefront of his mind. Among them when he was going to be able to replace some of his doomed clothes, though figuring that out was proving to require to much focus for his mind.

Ben inhaled deeply, slowly, and gave a strikingly relaxed grin. It was the only way. Never show weakness.

”Morning, girls. I appreciate the help, but I didn't bring any of your clothes.” He shrugged apologetically, gesturing at them and slipping his thumbs into his pockets. Joyous Guard wasn't at all heavy on his back, thanks to its Dust, but thinking about its specs was helping keep him focused. ”Guess we’ll have to go back to the dorm to get ‘em.”

“Should help with not freaking out the visitors, too.”

@MULTI_MEDIA_MAN@Forsythe

Cobalt smiled at his team's antics as he poured himself a cup of coffee after Diamond. "I'm fine with going anywhere. How does the Forest sound?" He quickly downed his cup of coffee and put it down on the counter. Oswald and Diamond jumped in the shower, Cobalt going after them and brushing his teeth as well. He left the bathroom and threw on his usual coat.

There was a sudden knocking at the door and Cobalt looked at his watch. Emerald was back fast. "I got it." He walked to the door quickly and opened it expecting Emerald. On the other side were two police officers with grim expressions plastered onto their faces. Time slowed down.

No this has to be a mistake. Cobalt put this behind him, he was done with crime. Why were they here? Maybe it had something to do with the last mission? A discrepancy in reports? Time resumed it's normal pace.

"Hello officers. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Sir, we're going to need you to come with us. One of our detectives was digging through old security footage and found evidence that puts you in a suspicious light."

Cobalt frowned as he knew exactly what they were talking about. He sighed and looked over his shoulder. "I'm going to need a moment." The officer who had remained silent nodded and stepped back.

Cobalt turned to Diamond and Oswald and sighed. It looked like had aged ten years within ten seconds, his past had finally caught up to him. "I... I'm about to be placed under arrest. I did some bad stuff a few years back and now I'm paying the price." He decided to be blunt. Cobalt hated himself right now, leaving everyone right when they needed a leader.

That was the sigh of a soon to be broken man.

Amy smiled innocently, her eyes staying firmly locked on her Captain's to notice any slight... flutters in his attention as she stretched, winding her fingers together over her head, twisting her hips to one side before snapping them back the other way. A pop echoed from her lower back and she smiled wider as she brought her arms back down to her sides. "Back to the dorm? But we just came from there!"

Her mouth turned to a slight frown, though her eyes were still alight. "I'm also not sure how much I like your implication that we'd freak visitors out. Lauren?"

Allen smiled gleefully, ignoring Trad’s outburst. It seemed the young man had failed to interrupt them in time for Allen to make an educated guess. Not that he would have failed to latch on to the most amusing explanation he found for Trad’s embarrassment otherwise, Sand knew.

“Good on you, kid!” And turning back to her, he added in a feigned whisper, still loud enough for all to hear, “And good on you too. I hear every girl needs a friend like that.”

When did this turn into a rom-com?

Sand sighed, giving him a helpless shrug. She turned, giving Sepia and her family a wan smile. “Well, nice to meet you. Congratulations on the expanding family too. Now, not to put a damper on everyone’s enthusiasm, but I’d say we should go before someone gets thumped or this one finds someone else to pester.”

Sand grabbed Allen’s arm, pulling him away from conversation with Trad’s family, and began dragging him along back to the main campus. Allen staggered, stumbling a few steps until he righted himself, keeping up with Sand’s brisk pace.

“Don’t be rude, Sand,” he reprimanded, though his easy smile took much of the threat away from the admonition.

She hummed. “You seem more excited than usual,” she observed in a low voice.

“Naturally,” he answered in kind, “Can’t I be happy to see my little girl?”

“Sure. Nothing wrong with that. I appreciate it, in fact.” Sand threw a dubious glance at him. “But something tells me you might be trying to get back at me for yesterday’s change of plans.”

“Oh, that? Don’t worry about it.” He gave her a devious smile. “Rather, I’d be doing this either way. It’s a parent’s prerogative to thoroughly embarrass their children in public. You avoided it when you ran off to Atlas, but I’m not missing this chance.”

“Whether that applies to you is debatable.” Allen winced, visibly chastised, and Sand repressed a pang of guilt. She should have put more thought into her answer.

“You’re a bit too quick to admit that,” he told her. “Careful you don’t give everyone a bad impression of you.”

You’re one to talk, she thought, particularly when I feel like a mother stringing along an unruly child. If the child weighed two hundred pounds, had greying hair and was beginning to bald, that was. Had their roles reversed while she wasn’t looking? That was a chilling thought.

“It’s not like we can hide it, either way,” she pointed out. “We look nothing alike.”

“Bah! Details, details.”

The pair whispered bickering only intensified as they continued to walk.

@SevenStormStyle@Awesomoman64

Ignorant of all that transpired in the halls and outdoors of Beacon Academy, the clocks ticked steadily onward. For some, they went about their business far too slowly. Each moment was another reminder of things lost, or of things never found, and these thoughts weighed down on their souls like shackles. Others did not acknowledge the passage of time at all, so involved were they in reunion, cooperation, or some similarly smile-bringing activity. At length, the clocks' ceaseless march brought their faces to display 9:40 AM, and the dutiful PA system throughout the campus came alive in a sputter of static. The speakers did not play in the dorm rooms out of respect for those who would be loathe to appreciate any kind of attempt to pull them into the school's holiday events.

“Attention, ladies and gentlemen! Competition #1 will begin in five minutes! If you are participating, make your way to the starting line at Beacon's Outdoor Activity Center and get ready to race!”

The voice that delivered the announcement was hard to place. Only a few would be able to identify it. At the OAC, a young man stood up from the stooping position he'd occupied to speak into the receiver of the broadcast device, an anticipatory smile on his face. At his full height, he ascended farther still by virtue of his massive blonde pompadour—a towering pillar of stylishness. With the race soon to start, he reached next to the portable PA receiver to grab a large, professional camera from the tabletop. As he hoisted it into his shoulder, he used his free hand to grab a clip-on microphone preset for only the speakers in the Activity Center and attached it to the lapel of his white suit. He glanced around at the people already present and, figuring that it would make a good introduction shot, shifted his camera into position and pressed 'record'. “Good mornin', people of Vale! Flax Fulvous here at Beacon Academy's first-ever School Holiday, and we are t-minus four minutes to the beginnin' of the first big show: the grand obstacle course!” He swept over the first stretch of the course, taking in its various parts. “Stuffed fit to burst with all sorts of mechanical platforms, tricks, traps, and other goodies, it's ready and waiting to put the dexterity of Beacon's most limber blokes 'n birds to the test!” Flax then panned over the loose crowd of people already present, both near the bleachers and the food tables. “And 'ere we have a sneak preview of some of the competitors, wrappin' up a bangin' breakfast and headed over to the startin' line. Who'll be runnin' the course? Who'll come out on top? Who knows? But rest assured I'll be here to cam every moment of it! See ya in a mo'!”

With a beep, the camera was off, and Flax breathed a sigh of relief. He had managed to get the intro done in one take, by some miracle. One would think that being lauded for his coverage of the destruction of a rampaging Ogdoad, and getting a promotion as a result, would directly correlate to greater skill, but Flax did not yet feel as if he'd filled those shoes. This morning would be as much a trial for him as it would be for the race-runners, for while they tested their limits in a no-holds-barred sprint for the finish line, he would have to keep up and keep his camera focused, all while providing commentary and not ruining his goofily professional image. Though a little nervous, Flax was mostly excited. It wasn't an opportunity many got in their lifetimes, so he was going to use it to the fullest, without worrying too much about putting on airs. After all, who could fault him for being himself?

Three minutes later, the competitors lined the checkers on the ground that demarcated the race's elevated starting platform. Professor Goodwitch was in attendance, a disinterested look on her face as she stood by the sidelines with her signature riding crop in her hands. The open layout of the track provided the students the chance to look ahead and see what was in their immediate future. A straightaway lay right in from of them, giving them the chance to pick up speed. Then the ground dropped away, becoming a sizable pit that signaled a long jump. At the bottom of the pit was a pool of water, deep enough to break the falls of anyone who shorted the jump, and crouching on a disk suspended above the pool by a pipe was none other than Flax Fulvous the cameraman. To his left and right were two pairs of ropes that could conceivably be used to propel an especially long jumper even farther, and give a sizeable advantage. On the other side of the pit stood a sloped incline that, while not hard to land on, would dramatically cut the speed of any who didn't approach it right. A climbing wall rose just beyond it, which the people who landed on the slope would have to fully ascend, but on which those who swung by rope would have a chance of attaching themselves more than halfway up. What came after was hard to make out at this distance, but some horizontal metal bars could be made out by a keen eye.

Goodwitch looked up from her watch. In her clear voice she shouted, “Listen up! No jostling! No use of weapons! You may use your semblance only once! Understood....? Racers, on your marks! Set!”

She cracked her riding crop, its sound splitting the air. “Go!”

Gratia Mindaro - Beacon Cafeteria (Monday, Early Morning ~6-7am)

This early in the morning on a day without classes, the Beacon Academy cafeteria was a place of quiet, its usual din replaced with a pondering silence. Few students populated the ha

ll, and of those that were present, they were quite content to eat their breakfast in tranquility, possibly engaging in some casual, but light, conversation with any friends that were sitting at their tables. Gratia Mindaro was one of those students that had woken early for their food, having chosen to sit by her lonesome at a table close to the cafeteria entrance. A pale white plate sat in front of her, upon which rested several lightly buttered croissants, a banana, and some vanilla yoghurt. Placed on the table next to her plate was her battered old phone, displaying its clock. At this point in time, her family had yet to arrive.

She calculated the how long she would need to spend on her breakfast before properly rendezvousing with her parents for the day's proceedings. There was more than enough time available, fortunately, but she would still endeavour to complete her tasks as quickly as possible. It was highly important that she made as much time for her family as possible.

Gratia quietly picked up a croissant, biting into it with the efficient movements one would have come to expect of her. The bread of Valic bakers was tolerable enough, and thus able to avoid irking her senses. She chewed for a second, and then another, before biting into the bread once more.

The Mistralese girl continued to eat in silence.

@HereComesTheSnow

Diamond turned around to face the door when she heard it opening and very nearly dropped her mug. Her heart paused for a few beats before resuming at the pace of an Olympic athlete. Old instincts very nearly kicked in and she almost bailed out through the closed window. Cold sweat rushed out on the back on her head and neck and her breathing turned shallow and quick. Her shadow shivered behind her, starting to creep up her legs without her notice, consent or command.

Before her panic attack could take root though, Cobalt came back bearing a bittersweet news. The police was here to indeed take one of them into custody, just not Diamond. She mentally kicked herself - of course it would have been the street thug being caught, not her. She never looked twice the same on any job in the first place, how would they have found her? Not to mention this was Valian police asking, not an Atlesian soldier.

Shadow returning to normal, Diamond went over to her closet and dug up one thing. A simple business card, plain white with ornate black letters. Turning back, she walked over to Cobalt and handed the card to him. "Call here. Don't talk to anyone until you do. The bill's taken care of." she informed, before pulling him to a hug, "And call me if you need to break out." she whispered so the police wouldn't overhear before letting go of him.

@floodtalon@MULTI_MEDIA_MAN

Oswald shrugged in response to Cobalt's question about where to go. It wasn't much worth protesting at this point, he supposed: they wanted to get out, as much as he wanted to just take things slow for once. Oh well, he'd manage somehow.

Cobalt's response to whoever was at the door was...disheartening, to say the least. Cobalt was being arrested, you say? He'd done some 'bad stuff', you say?

He wanted to SCREAM. He wanted to get up and toss his wheelchair through the wall, then drag Cobalt with it. He wanted to wring Cobalt's neck for this. But he was so tired. So, so damned tired. Tired of people disappearing from his life without so much as a warning, tired of watching everything around him collapse like it always did. He'd once seen his Emblem as a source of pride, being the last survivor to hold the line against the forces of darkness, protecting everybody around him.

Now, he was just sick of it. Letting out a deep sigh and a groan of effort, Oswald lifted himself from the chair and clapped Cobalt on the shoulder, looking him in the eyes after Diamond hugged him. "Good luck."

@MULTI_MEDIA_MAN@Forsythe

Cobalt accepted the hug awkwardly after putting the card in his pocket and smiled at her offer to break him out. "Not this time I'm afraid." He said as he broke away from her and looked at Oswald. They looked each other in the eyes and Cobalt sighed. "You too buddy. Keep an eye on Emerald for me huh? Make sure she doesn't overdose on sugar or something." He joked as he made sure Oswald didn't fall as he got back in his wheelchair.

Cobalt walked back to the door then stopped. He looked tentatively at the wall and considered his words carefully. "Also, be gentle with how you tell Emerald. She doesn't need this on her plate, ya know? Sorry for this." After all was said and done Cobalt left with the police to face his crimes head on.

If they read the news in the next few days they would see a news article on how a unnamed robber was finally caught 3 years after a botched robbery. 3 guards were murdered on the scene and every other person in the crime had been found knocked out. After interrogation they revealed the one who did it had ran before the cops showed up, taking 10K Lien with him.

Monday, Early O'Clock

One of the things they don't tell you about this place is that there's a little miniature kitchenette in the cafeteria, open to students who wanted to take their culinary pursuits into their own hands. As an early morning mind-waking exercise, I normally wouldn't recommend cooking, but... Well, that was just how it came to be. Maybe I wanted to do things my way after eating food prepared for me by others for weeks on end.

Well, that sounds pretentious, but what I mean to say is I must have just had the urge to take back control of something for a change. Get my hands behind the wheels instead of someone or something else's, you know?

I just need to go through motions.

Two strips of bacon.

No, three. Need energy. Haven't told family I'm here yet.

While they render in their own fat, crack three eggs into a bowl and add some milk before whisking.

They'd have probably appreciated if I did, but that didn't end up having the energy or wherewithal to make that happen after we trudged back into our dorm coming off the flight and end of the cruise.

Flip bacon, toast up some whole wheat bread slices.

So as far as they knew, I was still somewhere in the water between Vale and Mistral.

Which meant that they were coming with the intent to wander around and wait on me.

That was...

Well, it was free time, if you looked at things from an especially hardened and mercenary perspective, but even at my lowest I wasn't a very heartless guy, so...

Remove bacon, add eggs and scramble.

So I wasn't going to treat it as such and blow everyone off simply because I could get away with it. I'd have to put a hold on picking my own brain and just enjoy the company of the people I hadn't seen in a while after growing up for 18 years with.

Tansfer eggs, toast, and bacon to plate. Quickly wash every utensil and tool used in creation of breakfast.

Picking my own brain would be on hold, yeah...

As I walked into the cafeteria hall proper, I quickly came upon a now-familiar head of dark, long hair occupying a lonesome table.

But, maybe not someone else's.

"Hey."

@Crimmy

@HereComesTheSnow

Gratia Mindaro - Beacon Cafeteria (Monday, Early Morning ~6-7am)

"Schwarz."

Onyx eyes glanced up from the banana, which she had been in the process of peeling, to greet the aforementioned boy's approaching form. It seemed that no matter where she went, she would find traces of Luke Schwarz awaiting her. Gratia had almost come to expect his presence; it was not an intolerable one, and with him also came the opportunity to find answers, no matter how inconsequential or trivial they could be.

"You're awake," she observed dispassionately, her cool tone detachedly hanging in the air. Her pale fingers pulled away at the skin of the fruit with dexterity and grace, with not a single motion wasted in revealing the white flesh of the banana to the world. Yet she didn't begin eating immediately, instead taking a moment to observe the strands of hair that protruded from the boy's head.

It was, from almost every standpoint, an entirely pointless thing to study. But Gratia refused to allow its strange existence to go unquestioned, nor allow her classmate to deny its ability to move independently of him.

@Crimmy

Monday, Early O'Clock

"Somehow."

Her ebon-colored gaze was unabashedly fixated upon the hereditary and completely normal ahoge again.

My eyes are down here, ma'am. I know your fixation on hair has only been strengthened by seeing an Atlesian with glowing tips, but I honestly feel like this objectification is going way too far. There's a person attached to these locks, you know. Focusing way too much on certain physical features of somebody and borders upon fetishization, y'know. Don't put acknowledging me as a person in second place to my cowlick!

Yeah, you heard it here first, folks. A squeaky-clean and innocent boy like me is subject to the depraved harassment of Gratia "That Glacier Needs to Simmer Down" Mindaro.

I cracked myself up with these bits, honestly. Could totally do stand-up, but as things happen I'm done standing up.

I sat down, and bit into a piece of the toast. A bit chewy, had it set too low for my taste.

Welp. Better luck next time.

Where was I?

"I guess crashing right as we get here'll do that. So,"

I picked at my eggs. At least these turned out well. Nice and creamy.

"Your family planning on doing any of the events?"

Unlike me, Gratia made sure that her family actually knew that she'd gotten in last night. Despite her blase appearance and frigid demeanor, she actually was a pretty responsible person.

There are things besides applied physics that I could learn from her.

She waited until the door closed. Then a little more. Just until they would have been out of earshot. And then…


Diamond let out a howl of frustration and despair through clenched teeth. Somewhere out there, Esther was probably happy, because her vocal cords definitely took damage as her shadow sunk into her very being just as Diamond turned around and angrily obliterated her nightstand with an arm of glistering obsidian.

“SHEISSE!”

She flattened herself on the bed. “I can’t do this.” she said after a while. “Who’s going to leave me next? Is mom going to snatch Emerald away if she sees what they did to her? Or are you going to be needed home perhaps, Oswald? What about the new guy we’ll be inevitably getting? Should I even bother learning their name? Or do I just assign them numbers, huh?” she vented.

“I tried. I tried to get closer to you lot. Gods be my witnesses it’s not easy with you, but I tried. And what good does it do me?! It's the same gods damned song, ever since day one! Left to rot alone!” her talons torn the sheets on her bed as she angrily dragged her arm along its length. “Don’t you fucking dare leave before graduation, either of you!” Diamond said as she propped herself up on her arms, eyes closed. “I am tired of being abandoned. I’ve had enough for a lifetime.”

@MULTI_MEDIA_MAN

@HereComesTheSnow

Gratia Mindaro - Beacon Cafeteria (Monday, Early Morning ~6-7am)

"If they want to, I will definitely accompany them."

There was an undercurrent of another emotion, slight and almost unnoticeable, in her cold, impassioned tone. The stoic Mistralese girl's expression remained unchanged, and her declaration seemed little different to her standard icy fare, but the more perceptive would notice that certain 'more' to her voice. In fact, her boreal demeanour even felt a little brighter, her haughty sense of pride bubbling somewhat to the surface.

She bit into the banana, chewing away at its flesh and swallowing. Each and every one of her actions were committed with the same efficient, cool motions, but there was the tiniest of extra vigour in the way she engaged her breakfast. Family Day, it seemed, was something that she was willing to engage in at more than merely a surface level.

"And what of yours?" Gratia asked after a few seconds, her banana complete and peel placed down onto her nearly-empty plate.

Although she did not show it well, Sangue felt a bit bubbly after hearing someone compliment her prosthetic. She did give the girl a short “thank you,” but the redhead wondered if there was anything else she could say to properly express herself.

April then asked where she got it.

Well, someone as uneducated as Sangue wouldn’t be able to craft something with so much care even if she wanted to.

“My fr…”

Were Shiro and Gren her friends?

She did not know if the thought was mutual, but Sangue believed them to be her friends. She just needed more time to know more about them. Like how she learned about her team steadily.

Yes. Steadily.

“…M…y friends… made th…is,” Sangue spoke, unsure if she expressed it correctly.

Dawn asked if she or Cian could show their weapons to them.

Wouldn’t it be dangerous…?

Then again, Sangue herself knew that the way she used her own weapons always risked cutting herself. Before she received her prosthetic, almost every attack had to be calculated to remotely keep up with the trained and talented students of Beacon. Even with her prosthetic, she could still see herself falling behind others if she did not continue to train herself.

And the two girls just seemed so excited to see their weapons.

Her expression unchanging, she quietly lifted her arm as she closed her eyes. Her nerves called for the Claw installed within her prosthetic to slither out slowly, the chains making clanking noises as the Claw extended itself.

“I… don’t ha…ve… my blade, but… I… use this…

“…

“…thing…”

Even Sangue herself had no idea what to call the Claw. She decided to call it the Apep Arm in her mind.

Before she could do anything else, however, her scroll made her jump. She took it out quietly, only to find that she received a call from none other than Apep.

“I… sh…ould be… going…” Sangue whispered as she focused on letting her nerves pull the chains back into the prosthetic. With a small bow, the snake departed from the colorful bunch, hurriedly trying to find a quieter place to receive Apophis’ call.

He hated loud places.

---

>“Apep…”
>”I’ll be there in a moment.”
>”…O…kay…”
>”You with your team?”
>”…N…o…”
>”Then where the fuck are you, then?”
>”Alone…”
>”Well- oh, I’m actually here. No need to meet me at the docks- I’ve already been at this shithole before.”
>”Then…?”
>”Cafeteria. I’m hungry.”
>”Okay…”

The dial ended abruptly.

Staring at her scroll for a moment, the red snake quietly put it away as she wandered off to the cafeteria. On her way, however, she still wondered if Apophis actually knew where the cafeteria was. He never told her that he had been at Beacon before.

So…

---

“…Is that why you came over to the docks like I told you NOT to?”

They ended up meeting at the docks.

Apophis raised an eyebrow, an extremely aggravated look frozen on his face. Sangue stared at him, her eyes wider than usual.

He didn’t have any more scars on him compared to when she last met him. That was a good thing.

Lifting her arm(s) slowly, Sangue approached him like a mock-up jiangshi. Much to his annoyance, the red snake quietly gave him a hug.

“Okay, I get it. Stop.” The ex-manhunter growled in an almost comical way as he pushed Sangue away from him. “You’re gonna flatten the fucking bread I brought.”

“...?”

Sangue stared at the transparent bag Apophis waved in front of her face. It had bread, like he said.

“Most of it’s for me,” he muttered as he lowered the bag. “Leftovers are for you. Already heard that you upgraded the shit I made for you, so maybe you could practice eating with that prosthetic of yours.”

The snake nodded. Before Apophis could solidify their schedule of eating first, however, something crossed her mind.

“A…pep…”

“What?”

"It's... been... a while..."

He couldn't disagree with that.

"Apep..."

"What?"

Reaching out for his wrist, her organic hand wrapped around it as she shook it a bit.

“…My… friends…”

“…”

…

…

…

…

Sangue tugged at his wrist softly.

“…My fr…iends…-“

“Sangue.”

“Apep…”

“I understand you like your team. Like, a lot. But maybe we can wait a bit as we both prepare ourselves to meet them at top condition so that nothing could go wrong when I meet them.”

“…?”

Realizing that Sangue didn’t get it, Apophis screamed,

“BITCH, I’M HUNGRY.”

Nevertheless, despite calling her a bunch of names, he still followed her. It didn’t help that Sangue didn’t even know three-fourths of his insults in the first place.

---

It turned out her team was not in the dorm.

Standing outside of her dorm, she shut it, wondering where her friends were at.

“You know where they went?”

“…No…”

After a moment of silence, they resorted to just wandering down the hall in an attempt to find Sangue’s team.

Scratching the back of his head, Apophis refused to admit to her that he did kind of want to know what her friends looked like.

What are they like? He wondered as he put up a thoughtful look- a rare expression that is usually overshadowed by his common, angry one. Are they emo or grunge? Goody-goody or bitchy-bitch? I don’t need a bunch of edgelords infecting Sangue with bullshit.

He thought about it for a second. Just minutes before, she clung onto him like he was her dad or something. Imagining someone like Sangue spouting out Jayden Smith tweets while clutching half of her own face with her new prosthetic with a grin…

Fuck, that’s worse than everything I’ve done up to this point of my life. Then again, there's probably a reason as to why I'm not rotting in a jail cell yet.

Eh. I’ll prepare myself for anything. As long as they don’t look like they’ll turn Sangue into a skank, I think I’m-

A voice called out in the hallways. Glancing at the direction of the noise, he shook his head as he turned to keep going down the hall, but he stopped when he noticed Sangue standing still.

“L…auren…”

“…Say what now- FUCK, STOP PULLING AT MY ARM!”

The two began heading to the Armory.

_{@HereComesTheSnow@Suku@Crimmy}
@Plank Sinatra@Krayzikk@Kaithas

"Actually, Amy, I am offended too." Lauren put her hands on the hips of her new skinny jeans and glowered at Ben. "Here we are, out of bed and ready to give you company on Family Day, and all you're doing is trying is mansplaining like we don't know how to put on our own clothes in the morning? It's like you want to hide the two of us in the dorm. Like we're a couple of sticky centerfolds you need to hide under the bed before someone catches you with us. I wanted to look presentable today for you and Sangue! Long sleeves, long jeans, no navel showing! I was feeling classy! They're the most modest clothes I own - even if they are yours!"

She crossed her arms over the unbuttoned collar of Ben's henley, and her frown only grew more pronounced.

"But I guess all that hard work's still not good enough for Cardinal Ben, Desire. I guess it's back to the convent with us. We shouldn't keep the death march to menopause waiting. And after all this time I spent picking the locks on our chast--"

“L…auren…”

Lauren whirled at the soft, airy tone of voice. It wouldn't have been detectable to most ears, but Lauren had spent the past week tuning her senses to pick it up as clearly as others heard her. Her look of mock aggravation spread into a wide smile.

"Sangue!" She stuck one hand in her pocket and waved the other at her beloved snake-sister cheerfully. "Come on over, baby girl! Am and I were just telling Cap how excited we all are to have the day off together!"

To her credit, Amy managed to maintain an expression of genuine consternation while Lauren went off on their captain for his perceived slight against the two of them. Her hands were on the hips of her borrowed sweats in imitation of Lauren's pose, her arms crossing almost precisely when Lauren's did, maintaining an image of solidarity with her teammate against the man. Singular. Because there was only one on this team.

Ha.

Still, she didn't let one iota of her amusement show on her face. There was some significance to "get thee to a nunnery", but for the life of her she couldn't remember what it was. Damn, should have taken English.

...

...I don't think he realizes how much effort I'm putting into this, she thought as she let her Semblance dial back down, her reaction time slowing again. She'd not trained herself as much as Lauren had to hear Sangue, but she supposed it was somewhat reflex at this point--and her Semblance certainly helped. She smiled at the snake as Lauren greeted her. "Morning, Sangue."

@Plank Sinatra @Kaithas @NarayanK

Truth be told, Ben was thankful for the cavalry. Dealing with Amy and Lauren at the same time was a bit difficult. He knew how to placate Lauren (a hug and a burger usually did the trick, and letting her have her way worked otherwise) if he had to, and he knew she was having fun at his expense more than she was irritated. She did look classy, with an unmistakably Lauren twist, but he wasn't going to let her slide by without some needling. Amy complicated things. Not only did she seem to be doing her level best to break his composure (and his sweatpants) she gave Lauren the most dangerous thing; an audience. With an audience or someone to play off of, she'd keep going forever.

Sangue’s arrival distracted her, even though it brought a new wrinkle.

The man she dragged along with her was clearly someone she knew (father, maybe? No. Too young) but he didn't exactly leave Ben at ease. Sangue was very trusting, which meant her judgement wasn't always the best. And something about him made Bastille’s leader a little wary, bringing his thoughts into focus despite his fatigue.

”Hey, Sangue.” He greeted warmly, slipping his shield off and leaning it against the wall next to him. His stance widened a little, seeking stability, while he slipped his thumbs into his pockets. Stable, casual, but ready. No one suspicious was allowed around her, not without some explanation. Still. No need to be unfriendly if he was okay.

”Mind introducing us to your friend? I don't think we've met.”