"Alright."

Ben didn't like that at all, but that was the job. Rule three of Ben's rules to being the Cap; never let 'em know you're out of your depth. So he caught the look on Lauren's face and shot her a little wink, rolling his shoulders to limber up just that extra little bit. Gave him a second to run down the Commodore-spec's readouts, too. Make sure the others were showing up where he could see them. Nothing he could do to keep an eye on Jan, but he could keep track of just one by line of sight only. Everyone showed green. Everyone was prepped.

Time to roll.

"Alright. Lauren, you've got my back. Amy, anything tries to jump through that door, lead poisoning. You'll know before the rest of us. Sangue and Jan, be ready. We get in, we deal with anything nasty in there, we break whatever's blocking signals, and we go home."

Taking just a second to size the door up, Ben drew Joyous Guard back; despite its mass, it was very easy to move and that was the point. It hit with significantly more force than it took to swing it. So he targeted the hinges on one side, swung his shield, and was rewarded with metal splitting and shearing under the forces. No more hinges.

Then he drew back his boot and pushed the door in to drop flat against the ground inside, ready to draw back his shield if anything lunged out.

The door fell effortlessly as it let out an unceremonious clang of metal.

Thanks to the light that shone into the building, one would be able to make out the end of a corridor. Many of the lights had evidently shut down, though it was hard to tell if there were any working ones left. Much of the building didn’t seem usable, after all. Like the outside, no Grimm lingered. Only an unnatural silence lingered, with no telling of what made it feel odd.

While darkness was not infinite, it soon began to envelope the team’s surroundings as they began moving into the facility. Only their footsteps echoed in the hollow building, with nothing fascinating or unique to catch their eyes. The light behind them shone comfortably, though said comfort branched away from them as they made their way in. Papers had been torn off the walls, and any object that could have accompanied them were missing. There were no bulletins or posters and the like.

Down the corner, they came across a wide, empty lounge. A wide monitor mounted on one of the walls remained pitch black, a desk at the center empty with a dusty office chair toppled over. Two information kiosks had their monitors blank as well. No electricity powered the area. Several couches remained untouched, a wide stroke of dust seemingly painting them.

Except for the single light in front of a nearby elevator. Despite being dimly lit, it only made out a faint bit of the dust settled over the button panel. It was hard to tell whether the elevator doors themselves had traces of dust on them, however.

A quiet whirring noise somewhere near the room existed. The sound remained distant and faint, coming from below.

---

Jan typed something in the device he held as he looked around the rather barren area. There weren’t many things to get information out of just from the lounge-like room. If his look didn’t indicate enough, it seemed clear they had to move further in.

Nearby the team, there were two clear routes available, with another- the elevator- being an outlier. A downward-slanted path to the right corner of the lounge remained, its path wide yet dark. A small blue light seemed to illuminate down the slanted path, though it wasn’t clear as to what its source came from. On the left, a door to a flight of stairs could be seen. The door remained shut, though it seemed like it was once used for public use rather than for authorized personnel only. And finally, there was the elevator.

The tingling of everyone’s Aura had grown partially the instant they entered the room.

---

Sangue kept close to the team, keeping her mind alert as her eyes silently darted around the room.

Though there wasn’t anything inherently wrong with the room itself, there were some odd inconsistencies even she could tell. Whether the team would bother with it or not, she decided not to press upon, and she instead decided to check and see if there weren’t any Grimm hiding in the room.

Heading over to the door containing the stairs, she turned the knob, opening it slowly. Being made of metal, rust made the door creek painfully. She swiftly ended the noise as she flipped down the door holder.

The stairs seemed pretty cramped, though she noted how deeply it went down. Focusing on controlling her prosthetic, a red glow formed from the shoulder piece as it brightened ever so slightly. She analyzed the flight of stairs a bit without going down directly.

She couldn’t tell how far it went down, but it certainly looked like it wouldn’t take a few minutes. Sangue could imagine several ways the stairs could be traversed through quickly, one of them being just outright skipping and leaping past all the stairs. She had no idea what lay beneath, however, so she decided not to test her luck.

Quickly moving back to the team, Sangue’s silence spoke of no visible threat at the moment from the stairs. The glow in her prosthetic lessened before dimming out completely. She remained completely alert, looking around her team observantly as she had been instructed.

_{@Plank Sinatra@Krayzikk@Kaithas}

"We'll kick plenty of ass. If you really want to impress me, you just irritate that goth girl every step of the way."
Jericho's murmured command to his chosen lieutenant was almost lost under John Coltrane's crescendo, but the way his cold amber eyes were staring mischievous daggers into the surly Vivianne Laurent would have served as Bianca's marching orders just as well. The threat of a trolling smile was plain on his face. The stupid grape-headed girl was clinging onto her arm and smiling without a single other care in her world, but she was observant; she caught the look on Jer's face and swiveled to meet him anyway. The Gold Stripe lifted an arm to about chest level and waved, curling his fingers one after the other in a small wave.

"What's your name?" he asked the eggplant.

"Evan!" she said brightly.

"I'm Jericho. Hi, Evan," Jericho said, lifting a leg up and reclining the arm he'd waved with on his knee. "Let's be friends."

Evan positively beamed. Viv, beside her, turned to scowl at the two Jumpercables. It was going to be too easy.

"I really like your gun bag. With all the guns. There were some shapes I recognized but I didn't wanna be rude and open it. Do you have a real flamethrower in there?" Evangeline asked her new friend, leaning forward to be heard over the sound of the airship and Jericho's music. Jericho leaned forward and cupped a hand around his mouth - before grinning wolfishly, one of his first smiles in the week that he'd relocated to Vale.

"I have the stuff to make one," he whispered conspiratorially.

The girl's ruby eyes went wide.

---

Meanwhile, the nerd of Team Vivacious was enjoying flexing her knowledge on the scruffy fool she'd been saddled with.

"Tch." Veronique's knees were drawn up to her head, cushioned by the baggy, stretched out hoodie she had drawn over her lower half to cushion her chin. "I mean, Sea Breeze is better than Old Snake, you're right about that much. But it's definitely not a Nujabes song. If you knew anything about the period jazz that inspired Sergei Mantis you'd know--"

"No, yeah, it's just Hibino under a pen name, right? Nujabes just used it in a mix a couple years before he died."

...

"Yeah, he did." A second went by. "I actually really like Nujabes. He's good for--"

"Good for good vibes, right?"

...

"Yeah. He is."

She smiled faintly.

---

The two team captains and their hangers-on were leaned forward, engaged in discussion on their plan of attack. Vivianne Laurent had a gameplan in mind; she had rehearsed it in her head and with her team, over and over, and seemed certain of its success. This was, after all, a Dust production facility. There was nothing particularly resembling a heist about this job, no real finesse that would be required; smash the means of production and then bolt. It was a strategy Viv had borrowed from the callous, ruthless scum that held Atlas with an iron grip. She thought that Jericho Piper would appreciate the resemblance.

The callous, ruthless scum seemed to want to laugh in her face, which only made her angrier.

The plan, as she had laid it out, detailed three methods of infiltration. Traditionally, the front door was where most of the dumbest, heaviest muscle was located on places; if you were a criminal overlord, you wanted the stereotypical goons that would scare away unwanted visitors or questions, and you wanted people ready to kick ass if those goons were overpowered. As such, the loudest, heaviest assault would need to be made on the front door - both to draw attention and to wear down their firepower. Her Evangeline was the closest thing there could be to a human brick, so that was no question. Jericho Piper, on the other hand, would have seemed laughable at first glance. He looked like he put more work into skin and hair care than Pressman or Evan, and from everything she had heard about the Gold Stripes program back in Atlas he was practically on loan from a boy band, not a special ops team. It was only the bag of heavy weaponry that made her think twice about underestimating him. That, as well as the way he looked at her.

Viv was standoffish, but at heart she was fierce. Her passions guided her principles and reinforced her leadership. Viv's heart pumped red hot blood. Jericho was cold. Even the way he looked at the smitten girl beside him was emotionless. It made Viv wonder what he kept whispering to her that drove her into giggles.

Fucking fascist. Bootlicking pig.

She would be glad to be dropping with the majority of the strikeforce. Jer's girl Friday would be tagging along with her, and Pressman would be accompanying them with the unimpressive otaku, using her Semblance and notebook full of emo lyrical scribbles to carry him along. Together the two pairs would land on the roof of the warehouse and infiltrate from a skylight. Viv had toured one of the emptier warehouses during an off night earlier in the week and found that most of the upper floors had catwalks leading to and from major offices, break rooms, or other locations of that nature. If there was anyone of importance in the production facility that night who could lead them to other distributors, or even Roman Torchwick himself, the quartet would run into him. Iris and the quiet girl on Piper's team, meanwhile, would be tasked with smashing the production facilities up beyond any repair. It was a solid plan; Viv had thought hard on the specialties of everyone involved in the operation and given them tasks they would both enjoy and excel at. It was a textbook display of leadership.

And yet still Piper looked smug.

"I don't like your infiltration plan," he said, shrugging innocently.

"You don't have to like it," Vivianne replied, keeping her husky voice at level with as little of a snarl as she could muster. "You just have to walk through the front door."

"No, I like that part. Evan, how did she say we were going to reach the front door?"

"She said we'd have to land above the shipping crates and platform down, Jer."

"Thanks, Evan. I said I don't like that. I'm a Gold Stripe, and last time I checked I had transferred to Vale, not Wario Land. I'm not going to platform."

"We can't park at the front door and let you out like a fucking Uber."

"Nope. We also can't land above three different places so we can all jump out safely. We'll look suspicious and anything outside is gonna shoot us down long before you can hit the roof and neutralize it. I used to knock over a doughnut parl--shop that had more security than these portside shitholes. I don't need to jump safely."

"So jump now. And kill yourself on the landing, see if I care."
He was on his feet and moving towards the giant door to the cargo hold before the last syllable even left her lips. Jericho turned with the upper half of his body, tip of one boot pressed into the ground as though he had been paused mid-step. He was looking expectantly over his shoulder at Evangeline, posed unnaturally like that. It was a model's pose - a modern-day Kawaguchi, just as fucking full of shallow charisma and Atlesian haughtiness.

"Evan, you think you can catch the bag?"

"No."

Evangeline looked thoughtful, though - it was the same looked she always got when someone asked her why planes didn't have to flap their wings like birds even though they were heavier.

"In the air?"

"If you catch it, you can hold it until we're all the way inside."

The Mistralian's expression changed entirely.

"I believe I can."

Jericho seemed pleased by that and took a knee beside the bag, wrapping his hand a couple times around the strap and tilting his head down. He almost seemed to be praying. Viv thought it was nothing more than just putting on a show, but when she looked out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bianca Nuit looking slightly confused, too. Piper almost looked like he was praying.

_{"We were born for such a time as this."}

Then he stood and pulled the door open. The pre-dawn air entered the cargo hold, first with a hiss and then with a roar, as the truth of their altitude and speed began to smack every student present in the face. A jump from this height would have been suicide for anyone with no Aura, but Piper seemed confident. Confident enough to stake not just his life, but Evan's, too.

It made Viv want to throw his corpse from the airship instead, to save the ground the trouble of murdering him. He met her eyes and grinned, hurling his left arm backwards and tossing his bag of weapons into the jetstream. With his other hand he gestured for Evan to stand beside him.

"Hey Viv. Good luck."

She didn't respond.

"Hey, Viv!"

...

"Good luck, Piper. Stay safe, Evan."

"Mhm!"

Jericho grinned and pointed an imaginary gun at her chest, pulling the hammer back for effect that both knew was unnecessary. He was just doing it to be a dick. Evan seemed to get a kick out of it.

"For God and the Kingdom, baby."

Before she could even muster the energy to call him a FUCKER, he had dipped backwards through the open door of the cargo hold, grabbing onto Evan's hand to pull her with him. There was a loud, almost shrill whoop of adrenal thrill and excitement, without a hint of fear; it rang in the ears of the others for only a second before the roar smothered it entirely. It was impossible to tell which of the two had made it. Viv walked over and grabbed the door, pulling it shut - hard - until she heard the hydraulic hissss that meant Piper's buffoonery had been undone and the airship was once again sealed.

Somehow, it seemed the door hadn't even been fully closed before Bianca Nuit was leaning against it. She was grinning at Viv the same way her captain had, as if the three of them shared some naughty secret.

"He's a knight, y'know," said the white-haired girl with a hint of playfulness. It was sickening. She wanted to break the girl into shards with a fist. "Like a real knight. They knighted him in Atlas."

"He mentioned that," Viv replied, swallowing her fury. "Yeah."

"A knight."

She was doing it on purpose. She had to be.

No one could be this fucking awful on accident. She and Piper were meant for each other.

MISSION START

After our cultural exchange period, it had turned out that the redhead was surprisingly easy to chat about nothing much with.

Well, "nothing much" here is in regards to more practical conversation, such as mission planning or tactical brainstorming, but even then—

"Yeah... What I don't get is that you only ever hear the orchestral swell of Old Snake in the Main Menu. Every other time it shows up in-game, it keeps itself to the guitar in the beginning for that 'old soldier' vibe."

At least, as far as I could remember. It had been a good while since I'd played the game. Guns of the Patriots came out...

Wow.

More than ten years ago.

I could feel my hair going gray, and my skin wrinkling, merely at the notion. The FOXDIE was gonna take me so much sooner than I'd thought!

"It's strange. Listening to it, it feels like there was supposed to be a scene where that tonal transition plays out, but it's pretty much as if the menu's going 'oh, don't worry, this is still Metal Gear'. We know, Kojima."

"If only Konami had the same concern." she mused through her hoodie-wrapped legs, pulled up to her chin and serving as a headrest.

"Eugh." I actually felt a bit of a chill from something that wasn't the altitude. "Please, let's not talk about Survive. The happiest time of my life was that year between the reveal and release where I'd forgotten its existence."

—We still had a good argument for the merits of establishing a rapport within the joint operation. So effectively, not conversing would be much more pointless than pointlessly conversing. It's much more comforting to be able to understand the person you're entrusting your well-being to. Our common ground here, even if it was something wholly unrelated like hoodies, or game music, was actually a worthwhile avenue to explore.

If nothing else, it's a lot easier to cooperate with someone you can vibe with. If you have a good vibe with them, things smooth out.

Ha, like Nujabes!

As I was preening myself for managing to tie everything back to the original topic, the airlock doors opened again, blasting my face with wind, cold, and most of all, sound. The cabin roared for the second time this morning, as the speed of the aircraft all but punched us in our faces. Even if I hadn't been a longtime pro at staying awake, and even if I hadn't had someone to talk to through the trip, the howling, scraping air would have tossed the haze of sleep aside with ease the moment it touched my skin.

And cutting above all that, loud and clear, was the Vivacious leader's voice.

"Pressman team! We're up! Look alive!"

Heedless of the elements' fury, Vivianne Laurent looked for all the world to belong within them, showing no sign of discomfort in the gaze she cast upon us.

Cool, indomitable pressure, with just a touch of her earlier indignation.

Expectation, no, demand that everyone else fall in line.

Like a warlord addressing his men before battle.

It'd be a little intimidating if she wasn't flanked by Bianca, who was very clearly much more mischievous— Which had to have something to do with what our newfound leader, currently descending upon the gate, had been whispering in her ear since before we'd even taken a seat to begin with.

I kind of worried that it involved the opposite effect to my own airship experience. Every now and again, I caught glimpses of the stabbing glares that she had sent Jer's way. If looks could kill...

"Well, I guess I'd be long dead."

I muttered the words beneath the cacophony, rising to my feet. Now, the overall picture of Vivianne holding in some irritation and being all but prodded by Bianca made things less intimidating, true, but as standing to attention revealed—

That didn't the woman herself powerless to me.

The motion must have caught her eye, but one look at me seemingly reaffirmed her appraisal that I was an afterthought.
A cog in the machine she was driving.
Not worth much more than a glance.
It was a familiar, arctic coldness.
I hated it.

Even if she wasn't trying to bore a hole through my skull, Laurent could still kill me with a look, whether she knew it or not, whether she cared to or not. Actually, given the whole premise being that I had failed the interest check, I was completely sure she didn't care or know to. There was no doubt that my death had only come from reading too much into it. I'm no Emiya, I should stop projecting.

...I tightened my grip on Crow's Beak, just a little.

In any case, I had better get serious. Casting away the defensiveness and driving the twisting thoughts back to the airtight corner of the mind I liked to keep them, I stepped up to the plate and looked down over the edge. Jericho had made a day out of jumping from however far up we were, even going so far as to pull Evangeline into a waltz as gravity took them. Remembering the overview that had been laid out by the team leader still present, he even had further to jump. Not by much, but still, it was bigger, this couldn't be all bad—

The void below asked me if I believed that.

I balked a bit. Sure, I knew I had everything going for me intellectually— I had my Aura, I could recover from horrible injury, our final approach would be onto a rooftop and at a safe distance for people with either of those factors. There were even two failsafes present: Bianca Nuit, my teammate whose wings I'd personally brought from the brink of uselessness and were constantly returning to their full strength, and Veronique Pressman, drawing up behind me, whose methods involved Dust constructs and the semblance necessary to shape and guide their catalysis and task. Wind Dust alone would have done it so long as you had the correct amount and mastery to create a well-timed and well-powered updraft, but I was assured that this would work just as well and be significantly simpler. The automatons would handle the specifics just as long as she told them what they were doing.

I knew all that, but vertigo still struck me. I've never been too good with heights unless I was strapped into something, unfortunately, and it took me a second to recapture my hold on myself as I accepted that we were still indeed a ways up. Beside me, equally teetering off the edge, Vivianne Laurent barked out a countdown. Still unflappable. It made sense. Not only had she been properly trained in a Combat Academy, she was also the leader of her team. A position that demanded decisive action and complete confidence in your judgement.

Five.

I guess she judged me ready enough.

Four.

Even though it felt like my knees were shaking.

Three.

She didn't seem to believe I would be a liability.

Two.

Okay.

One.

You've done stupider things plenty of times, Lucas.

...

The space between words in that rhythm felt like it encapsulated eternity. I was waiting. I was waiting. I was waiting, so very hard. Hanging onto the call, hanging onto my footing, and hanging onto the last second of doubt that always torments the psyche when you took the position of humpty-dumpty.

I could crack the old joke about breaking eggs to make an omelette, but I won't. I understood him when the reality laid itself before me. I'm sure he wanted to hang on too.

"DROP!"

Vivianne was out. Bianca would follow. Maybe she already was.

It was as simple as that to her. As simple as that to Jericho, as simple as that to Evangeline. It'd even be as simple as that to Iris and Skye, the final ones to pull this stunt.

Remember, Luke. Go with the flow for this one. Holding on is being tense, and too much tension makes you snap. You just came to this conclusion little more than two hours ago. Time to put the words into practice.

It shouldn't be any less simple for you. Trust what you can do, and trust others to expect that of you. Even Vivianne Laurent, who rightfully saw me as worthless wholly unremarkable, figured I'd not run into any trouble.

So I could relax, and simply act.

A tap on my shoulder came from behind, not even a half-second after VIVE's leader cast herself into the void. I glanced back over my shoulder to find the redhead, Pressman (weirdly familiar name), with her notebook and Dust-filled pen in hand. That's right, it was this simple for her too. The nudge could have meant any number of things; reassuring me, snapping me back to the moment and out of my head, impatiently pushing me forward, I couldn't really tell in that split second I took.

But all the same, I read it as my cue to let go.

Eyes front once more, I felt the passing urge to do this in style, as if to make up for my inability to keep my promises about my demeanor until now,

"Geronimooooo!"

And leapt out into the open air below.

As the stalwart serpent would say, It's Showtime.

The entire ride over was basically cakewalk. Jer and I listened to some music, that was cool he has great taste so it’s easy to listen to his stuff. Then there’s Viv and she seemed a little peeved about the fact that Jer’s knighted, but I mean come on! He’s fricken knighted. Like a real knight.

But as she moved away from me and the door she had closed behind Jer and Evangeline she prepped for their own descent. I figured it’d probably be best to let her focus at that point.

I for one think that kind of thing is incredible and worth celebrating. Not sure why she’s so jaw-clenchy and irritable. Almost like Gratia a little. Besides, she had been one upped by Jer’s awesome new plan she didn’t need his right-hand lady to rub it in any further.

But soon it came time Viv turned to look over the three of us. Luke looked a little bit nervous, nothing too crazy but somewhat moreso than his usual kind of jumpy demeanor.

Five.

But for me, well I was just excited. This was my thing.

Four.

It was what I was born capable of doing and there wasn’t many people who had more experience with flying than me.

Three.

All things considered, I can’t wait.

Two.

Finally.

One.

Viv leapt first, but I was right behind her.

Without anyone giving me any further instructions, nor words of encouragement, of ‘you’ll be okay Bianca don’t worry’ I was enveloped in the freezing howling winds as the ground opened up around me.

I kept my wings folded against my body, allowing me to drop much faster. I let one loosen its grip on my side just a little so that I began to spiral, quickening my descent a bit more. For a moment, I couldn’t hear anything outside of the wind. It whistled in my ear and I heard my clothes flap from the force, but other than that, silence.

No commands, encouragement, even my own thoughts were difficult to hear over the wind.

”That’s probably enough.” I hummed, forcing my wings to unfurl around me, they caught the wind and immediately I was propelled higher into the air. For as far as I could see Vale stretched outwards, with the warehouses just below me. It wasn’t quite as beautiful as Mistral and I hadn’t yet been this far above Atlas, but it had its own sort of lived-in charm.

I flipped around, placing my hands behind my head as if I was laying on my bed back in the dorm, my eyes scanning the mass of blue for Luke and the others. I was able to spot him fairly quickly as it seemed he was among the last to jump.

His form wasn’t perfect but for someone who had certainly been worrying to some extent prior to jumping he was keeping himself together and relying on Viv covering his landing.

I didn’t need the assistance, nor it seemed did Jer.

I wonder if that made Viv even angrier.

But I still had plenty of time before I would hit the ground – unfortunately my eyes weren’t quite as good as Estelle’s she’d be able to make out what everyone was having for lunch from this distance. It was enough just to keep my head on straight after the spiraled descent I had just undergone.

Still, it would be best to appease Viv, I had to keep in mind that this was my first mission back since everything happened. This was our team’s first mission as well. If I wanted a second, I would need to at the top of my game.

But I just can’t help but be excited!!

Closing in on the ground, I made sure to drop quickly and quietly. Allowing my wings to once more fold in on myself until I was as close to the roof as I could get without hurting myself. I quickly opened my wings once more and used my semblance in order to push myself away from the ground, and then releasing. The effect was stopping just shy of the rooftop and falling from about ten feet above. I landed quietly and immediately scanned the air for my comrades who were still quite a way behind me. I readied myself with my semblance in order to help any of their descents, in case something went wrong, but I would follow Viv’s lead.

That should make her happier about not being a knight yet. At least, I hope so!

Scanning the perimeter, I couldn’t see anything too terrible, maybe a couple people – but it wasn’t clear if they were related to this warehouse or walking through the district itself. The skylight wasn’t far off, maybe a few feet.

After a minute or so my comrades landed. I shot a big grin towards Luke and Viv and quietly motioned towards the skylight. “Let’s do this thing!” I whispered excitedly.

---

Skye's was now very aware of her ears to the point of being annoyingly self conscious of them. Since Bianca's casually delivered yet impactful words at their dorm room the fuzzy pair of extremities had cycled through nearly every expression they were capable of making. She had managed to not notice for hours as the pace of repeated perking and drooping was only a little above average. She had also become immersed in the first real time she had spent with all her teammates together and remained distracted by what the gorgeous feathered faunus said.

'You know you live here, right Skye?'

Thinking back on it now that moment was the start of the whirlwind of emotions that led to the almost flapping of her ears as if they were vestigal wings. Something would surprise her, catch her interest, or make her happy and they would instantly perk up on their own. A moment of nervousness, a sad memory, or a social faux pas and they fell to the sides of her head just as quickly. Having opted to raise her mask to rest on top of her head for once the combination of her facial and ear expressions must have made her thoughts and feelings at any moment plain to read.

She might have gone on oblivious to this all day but her recent realization of what their mission was, VIVE and JBLS mixed friendly and tense interactions, and her first ride in a small airship had her feeling more than a little oversensitive. Having Iris to talk to made things much easier to deal with, the ridiculously tall girl was a joy to be around. But this also brought to her attention the extreme highs and lows she was going through as the edges of her ears tapped against the mask on her head or tickled against her own hair. Then, as she stressed over the fact they would be facing people and not grimm she caught Iris' eyes flicking from her own to the emotional barometers on top of her head. The enormous girl didn't say anything about but it made Skye realize just how anxious and on edge she was, and how much that lack of confidence must be showing through right now.

Looking around everyone else in the cramped space seemed more or less calm despite what they were about to do and the danger they would face. Well, perhaps calm wasn't the right word for everyone present but no one looked afraid or even concerned about the mission itself.

That's right, a proper Hunter keeps their composure, no matter the challenge placed before them. The threat isn't always going to be grimm. I have to try my hardest not to let anyone down.

Looking at Luke and Jericho's faces and seeing how steady they were compared to herself only drove this idea home harder. She resolved to try and emulate this, drawing upon the limited calming exercises she already knew. She forced her ears and tail to stop twitching and sit still while she tried harder to get into her conversation with Iris over her own worries. After a few minutes she felt like she was actually doing pretty well with this.

Then of course the small space had to be flooded with noise and buffeting winds all at once.

All her hard work keeping it together crumbled in that single moment before she knew what was going on. Her mind immediately settled on the worst case scenario as she shot to her feet, grasping at whatever sturdy handholds were in reach. Her ears were rigid and the fur of her tail had puffed up dramatically to nearly twice its size while she looked for the breach that was to be their doom.

She was bewildered to see nothing had happened to the airship. Instead it looked like her team leader had opened the hatch while they were still in the air. She hadn't been listening to the other conversations around her so she didn't understand what was happening at all. Until, of course, Jericho Piper let himself fall out of the airship, pulling along the girl with the deep purple hair. Her jaw dropped as it dawned on her and her face drained of what little color it had as the question dawned on her.

Are we all jumping from this high up!?

Rokhang village had been a place surrounded by ridiculously high mountains and cliffs, so Skye was relatively used to heights. However, what she was not used to was being suspended this high in a small craft with no solid ground beneath her feet. She had managed not to dwell on this by avoiding the view and focusing instead on Iris or her own thoughts. But now she couldn't avoid the reality of the situation.

She felt a rather intense mixture of terror and despair when Vivianne Laurent commanded everyone to prepare for the very last thing Skye wanted to do in that moment. Her ears flattened to her skull, her will to mind her reactions lost in the wind. She gripped her current handhold fiercely, as if it offered hope that she might just stay here and the airship would land to let her off safe and sound. Of course she knew that wasn't going to happen. And she knew as much as she didn't want to with every fiber of her being, she was going to throw herself out of this aircraft like everyone else.

Right? We can easily survive a drop like this with aura. They wouldn't be making us do this otherwise. Yeah.

Despite trying to talk herself calm with reason the uncontrollable trembling that had come over her wouldn't stop. In this moment she wanted very badly to be reassured, and she found herself tentatively reaching out to Luke. She couldn't see his face but she did notice the tension in his shoulders, and...

Was that a shiver just now? Or the wind?

She stopped, then withdrew her hand. It seemed she might not be the only one having a hard time facing this after all. She pulled her mask down over her face, tried to control her breathing, and waited for the dreaded moment to come.

A countdown of five seconds, and then Skye watched as everyone in front of her began leaping into empty air one by one. She had hoped in vain that seeing more people make the jump confidently might make it easier. As each one dissappeared over the edge into the darkness her heartbeat and breathing only quickened. By the time it was her turn she was more worked up than ever and it took more effort than she expected just to let go. Then forcing her legs to move her forward made her a bit dizzy, or she had been hyperventilating despite her efforts. She knew she had to do this, was going to do this, and taking any longer was only making it worse. Still she hesitated at the last moment, almost losing her footing and tumbling uncontrollably through the air. She barely managed to turn that misstep into the final hop that sent her falling after her comrades.

In that moment she left the safety of the deck behind her she felt like the worst part was surely behind her. Once one took that last step into a frightening new experience everything was sure to fall into place. Again she was dead wrong. As the sensation of freefalling began her breath caught in her throught and it felt like her heart skipped a beat. Adrenaline shot through her body fueled by a terrible fear, one she lacked facing down grimm day after day.

The moment passed, the rushing of wind became the only thing she could hear, and her heart hammered in her chest. As she stared down at the ground far below it occurred to her she had no plan for dealing with the impact other than absorbing it with her aura. She had convinced herself that it would be enough but now she wasn't sure at all. The rooftop was getting closer far too fast. The others below should be landing soon, then not long after she would...

Use my legs to take the worst of it. Just. Don't. Die.

She put her arms in from of her face and squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself.

Well ain't this grand.

"We've got kiosks and a desk. If there's time on the way out, bet they've got a computer to grab. We'll take one of 'em. Maybe there's some answers as to what this place was."

Because Ben had no idea. He was wracking his brain, but he had nothing. But this place had been something, it was clearly geared for guests too. And not that long ago, didn't seem like it at least. And no one had any idea. Or no one remembered. Didn't look like a struggle here, either, which was... A little chilling. Seeing as almost anything with any sort of identification had been ripped away or otherwise removed.

Shit was a little spooky.

Great for teasing Negasi about later though. He could hear chattering teeth. Like a cartoon. clackclackclackclack.

"If we take the elevator, we're trapped if something happens. Let's take the ramp. Unless your spidey senses say different, Amy?"

@Guess Who@NaraK@HereComesTheSnow

HTTS - Shipment Protection

"Hey, walrus fat burns really well, right?"

"I mean, yeah, it oughta." came the reply after careful consideration. "Fat's fat, and fats burn. That's why I toasted those burger buns the other day in clarified butter. Regular butter's smoke point's too low."

He reached quite calmly into his pouch of ball bearings, tossing the handful retrieved into the air. Much like Taidan earlier, the orbs hung, gleaming in the air for a moment as though suspended in glass.

Then they began to spin, following a lazy figure-eight drawn by the steel-scalped senior and gradually picking up speed. Faster and faster, tighter and tighter, their shining dance refined itself further with each turn, eventually to the point where even the experienced Hunter's hand could scarcely track their path—

Until abruptly, one shot towards a Hrossvalr's head with a thought, at this point closer to a silvered bullet than anything else. The rest soon followed, directed towards key points like eyes and mouth, where the protective blubber was either at its thinnest or not present. Optic Nerves lead back into the brain, the throat is the clearest gateway to spinal chord...

A few even crashed against its tusks in an attempt to snap the thick enamel. Why let them scuff up the floor?

"Just make sure the deck doesn't accidentally catch too."

These were definitely just the practice round, anyway. At their level, it could be expected that a mission would always have something bigger in store than a few fat bodies.

Unlike the other three members of her team, Amy could see perfectly fine in the darkness of the room, even without the light. There were times her Faunus heritage came in handy, and one of those was with her natural darkvision. It did not, however, help at all with the general feeling of dread that permeated this entire situation.

Whirrrrrrrrrrr.

Fucking whirring bullshit didn't sound like anything she'd heard before. Mechanical, but not familiar, coming from somewhere to their right, it made her rusty feathers stand on end despite all her attempts to keep them smoothed down. Her eyes flicked around the room, falling on the ramp eventually.

"The sound's down and between the elevator and the ramp, cap. Quite a bit down, it sounds like, but just from the sound I can't pinpoint how far or which one of them will lead to it," Amy said, then shuddered and shook her head. "This smells like such a fuckin' trap."

Her attention turned to the door to the stairs, before she wandered back around the corner and retrieved the broken door, evidently light from how little effort it had taken to knock it down after its hinges were severed. She gently placed it along the wall, its edge against the door to the stairs--balancing it precariously so it would offer little resistance, but fall over if the other door so much as brushed against it. Hopefully that would replicate the clang from earlier.

"... I don't want anything coming up behind us. I'll listen for that and the elevator."

What she'd give for some cans and string.

@Silvan Haven@Crimmy@Abillioncats

Silver Applegate - Civil War

"Ah...thanks." Silver replied with a smile to Vega's remark.

He followed Felicia into the mayor's office. Naturally the room looked as fancy as the rest of the manor. After the short introduction, Gideon explained the situation and how it got to this point. "Mercenaries, huh?" Silver didn't like the sound of that.

When Gideon was done with the explanation he asked if the hunters had any questions. "What are we dealing with here in terms of weapons?" The damages done to the city near the makeshift border looked like something one would expect to come from heavy firepower. The idea of having to fight someone or even something with that destructive worried Silver.

...

"Fine. I'll be the one to say it. Anyone seen Get Out?"

Lauren Negasi frowned at her team, her teeth certainly not chattering. Her teeth were, in fact, enjoying hot girl summer to the max, currently engaged in a torrential on-and-off fling that brought them into contact with each other time and again - oral sex, if you would. No doubt a foreign concept to a boy from a small town in Vale where nobody knew how to find the clitoris.

"Okay, fine. How about Jurassic Park? Samuel L. Jackson, coldest motherfucker to ever live. He took three steps down a ramp, and what did they do? Those raptors ran the nigga for his own leg. Nuh uh. Nooo way. From now on I pick the missions. Does anyone feel that buzz?"

Of course, part of her routine was keeping spirits light, but Lauren had always been a girl with a honed survival instinct, ready to bail on people or situations that were clear lost causes. If this were a side street in Mistral, she would have thrown Sangue - the only person here who didn't deserve to die - over her shoulder like a sack of wheat and booked it back to an escape route. She probably wouldn't even struggle. She could teach Sangue to use that prosthetic to hijack cars, and they could set up a fun new side gig somewhere nice...far from Mistral...

Maybe give Atlas a chance again. Or head to Vacuo. Somewhere she could find Umeko Kawaguchi and grovel for pussy. She wasn't too dignified for it.

Then she found Ben's big, blue, guileless eyes - like an innocent little lamb who'd never seen a pair of titties. Something in her gave. She had to be strong in her capacity as team leader.

"Well, the plot of Get Out is that this bad white bitch leads you to this factory in the rich part of town so they can stuff your grandparents' minds in the bodies of strong, able young OGs. Which makes me an OG, y'all two motherfuckers the bad bitches, and this place..." Lauren craned her head to look suspiciously into the elevator, lit up like a sign from God.

"The Nigga Conversion Factory."

"Lorena. Get out."

"The Nigga Conversion Factory. Get Out's the movie. If I start acting differently, ask me about tennis. I don't know shit about tennis so if I can answer, then you'll need to get my real brain back. In the meantime....hhhhh. Let's just take the ramp. But if something eats my leg y'all two will be the ones cryin' about it, with your horny asses."

"I don't want either of my grandparents' mind in your body, babe. That's a whole lotta gross."

Ben flashed his second a quick grin, belying the thought he was giving the situation. She was joking, but he could see how unsettled Lauren was. Amy, too, thought that was easier to catch. Made her feathers stand up like she'd touched the third rail. Lauren's chattering teeth could've been the source of the sound almost on their own, but he could hear (and feel) it too. Something thrumming deep in his bones. He wasn't any happier about it than either of them, but they couldn't just walk back out the door and say they didn't find anything.

"Raptor'd have to get its jaws closed first, anyway. You're fine." A few more spins of the problem in his mind. Consider the angles. "Trap can't surprise you if you know it's a trap, Amy. We haven't got much of a choice. Lauren can pick the next mission. She'll send us somewhere fun."

"Down the ramp it is, no way to cut power to a ramp. I'll bring up the front and catch anything on my shield, Amy keep your ears open, Lauren and Sangue can cut the fuck out of anything I have to block. Burgers on me when we get back."

The team moved on ahead, opting for the ramp. Jan As they walked, the light by the elevator seemed to dim upon each flicker it made.

The ramp led to a series of floors with large hallways, many of them containing similarly barren and empty rooms isolated behind glass walls, many of them etched in dust. It wasn't hard to imagine that people may have worked in these rooms at one point, though the kind of work they did was lost in time. A series of ramps continued to move downwards, sometimes spiraling around where the elevator was, or sometimes deviating to other hallways filled with ramps.

There was a lot of walking, but the rooms were neither wide nor small enough to hide anything.

Eventually, the ramps stopped appearing, leading to a single hallway. Metal doors lay by the side of the hall, most likely supposed to have kept the area locked off.

At the end of the hallway lay two hallways going left and right, each named "1240" and "1241" respectively. A smear of black liquid lay against one of the walls of 1240, and several papers, some smaller than others, lay on the ground by 1241's floor. The ends of both hallways, however, had heavy-looking iron doors. Oddly, both possessed active locks despite the lack of management for everything else.

While 1240's door had much more locks on it, 1241's door had a single large lock that had a tiny green light flickering at the center. The ticklish Aura everyone felt amplified noticeably to their current location.

---

Jan remained silent, staying close to the team as he stopped reviewing the relatively small number of notes that ended up in his device. As they approached the single hallway, he found a lone small paper chucked slightly away from the 1241 hallway. He picked it up.

The texture of the thing felt like a photo paper. Flipping it over, he found a picture of the lobby.

This is from the first floor, isn't it? He thought. Something about the angle of the picture irked his interest, however. It seemed to be taken from one of the top corners of the room. Did it belong to a security camera?



In such an empty area, there wasn't much to take note of aside from noticing that something was somehow messing with her flow of Aura. It didn't feel out of control, but the fact that a potential third party having invisible influence to something that vital rubbed her off the wrong way. Whether it was just a device making it react like that or it was something intentionally manipulate the air around them, she had yet to know. She kept Ben's word and remained on guard.

Her eyes glanced between the two halls, though she looked back just to make sure nothing was sneaking up on them.

_{@Krayzikk@Plank Sinatra@Kaithas}

After fighting off the first wave of Grimm, the Beacon seniors found the source of the beasts' irritation: A young faunas that had stowed away on board and hidden herself inside the engine room. After a short argument between members of the crew as to what to do with her, they came to the conclusion that the best they could do was to merely proceed to Patch and hope that the Beacon students could fend off the additional Grimm activity that the small girl's anxiety attracted.

Unfortunately, things would not proceed smoothly. Not long after leaving the escort range of Vale's air force, the ship would find itself ambushed by an even larger school of Hrossvalr as well as a hostile Nevermore from above. The forces of Grimm had wrested control of both air and sea from Team HTTS and the sailors.

Experience and ingenuity would prove to be invaluable though. With the combination of creative problem solving and the lessons they'd learned from their professors at Beacon, the seniors would hold off the Grimm long enough for the ship to pass into Patch's protected waters. With such small distance between them and the shore, the island's own team of hunters were able to support Team HTTS in the last leg of their voyage.

When the ship docked, a quick headcount would reveal that the students had been able to prevent all possible casualties during the trip. Not only would they be rewarded their usual number of credits, but also the pride of having protected every life aboard the vessel, including the one not meant to be there.

Upon successful descent, the diversion team - Jericho Piper and Evangeline Sparr - successfully led an assault on the front of the Faerie Dust ring's central warehouse. In the meantime, the majority of both Teams JBLS and VIVE entered the warehouse more discreetly from the roof and proceeded to make their way into the complex's main manufacturing superlab.

In the midst of sabotage efforts by the assembled students, a majority of the ring's high-ranked leadership apparatus engaged in a brief firefight with the students, after which many were subdued. Experimental power armor technology fueled by the synthetic Dust was recovered by infiltration team. Synthetic Dust will likely prove a poor power source, but technology has potential. Will investigate further.

Despite exemplary performance and destruction of Faerie Dust production, both teams were penalized for the actions of the diversion team. Damage to warehouse has proven extensive after preliminary findings, and several shipping containers full of exports to Mistral and Atlas were destroyed during controlled landings from distraction team's initial drop. Diplomacy currently underway to assuage any threat of tensions with neighboring kingdoms, though the well-placed nature of both students in their kingdom's respective societies should prove valuable in helping mitigate long-term damage. With this in mind, both teams have been penalized one credit.

---

Not that any of that mattered to Jericho in the slightest. He, and his three subordinates, were hunched in the circular corner booth of the nearest Waffle King they could find in lieu of returning to Beacon. The Gold Stripe himself sat across from Bianca, legs kicked up so that the soles of his boots balanced on the seat beside her.

He'd made Vivianne scream, after all. A deal was a deal. And as much as he had proven careful about what he ate in his first week at Beacon...

"This is tradition in Atlas," he explained betwween mouthfuls of food, spinning a small, unused tub of butter spray with a finger atop the lid. "They have a Waffle King on Baron Avenue, around the corner from the Bilskirnir Complex. They have a blue plate special from 11:30 to 5 for stoners and Gold Stripes. So you can choose to think of yourselves as being in great company, if you want. Whether you really are or not."

Bianca Celestia Nuit sat upon a throne of carbohydrates and good vibes.

Tonight, I could lay my doubts to rest, and truly welcome into my arms companionship with the three others surrounding me. The mission hadn’t gone perfectly, in fact, there were fairly significant hiccups here and there. All the same, I regarded my teammates proudly and with the visage of someone who was not only content but fulfilled.

As I sat across from Jericho, diagonally from Skye and adjacent Luke I found myself unable to keep from smiling. Unable to keep from rocking back and forth with an overwhelming sense of joy, to stop from leaning on Jer’s boot even though it had just seen heavy use in the field. Because at the end of the day, I had been an asset to the team, not a liability.

I considered the path that had led me here. Through Gratia’s arms in Mistral, in that van, to Beacon, to Jer, to JBLS, to Luke, away from my father, here to this Waffle King, preparing for my return to Beacon once more. The last time I had returned in a stretcher, I was doted over, chastised and disregarded from active duty. This time, I was triumphant. I was everything Vignoble couldn’t be due to my status. Everything I wanted to be last time.

It was already done.

On to the next.

“I think we are in great company,” I said. Jer’s previous statement still hung in the air as my teammates regarded me as I did them. I laid my head down on Luke’s shoulder closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. I peaked out at Skye and offered her another smile; this one was more pointed, playful. I picked up my glass and raised it, tipping it ever so slightly towards the table and clearing my throat. “To us, to JBLS. Fore tonight, we are all Waffle King’s and Queens.”

The epilogue, or maybe punchline to this story.

Before I could even begin to make that cheeky string of words a tradition, I'd already rebelled against it. Whether or not I hold enough disdain for bookending my retelling with the same line over and over isn't something we need to dwell upon right now. Not in the face of an epilogue like this. Or even any "punchline" I looked for.

Simply put, there really isn't one at all.

I'm not saying this because there's no story to begin with, either; my third mission most definitely happened. In fact, I'd say there's way too much ground for me to cover if I were to make such a leap. Even if I'd be tripping over myself to tie the affair up with such a pithy turn of phrase, it'd still be less embarrassing than falling flat on my face with such an iniquitous lie.

It's something we'll have to revisit in the future, but for now, I'm going to have to condense it a bit to move us into the "present". Though, that's the crux of my point to begin with.

A denouement ties everything up neatly into the past.

Matters are settled.

Questions are answered.

Things clear up.

Even if all three did happen, there was hardly any finality in how they came about. Each question I had answered found another taking its place. Each time I wrapped something up, I found more thread beneath to work with. To tell the truth, I was struck much more by everything that started rather than ended.

Forget a capstone, epilogue, or even punchline. If anything, I was mid-transition in a story still going strong.

We'll call it that, a transition piece.

Or, if you'll indulge me: an intermission.

We dropped in through the ceiling as planned, more or less. Jericho and Evangeline made for a particularly effective pair of distractions, but it was with good reason that we didn't go into the facility unarmed. Even with a chaingun's ruckus at the front gate, our dismantling team couldn't be spared from dealing with several of the higher level "executives".

We dove headfirst into that battle, not hesitating in the slightest. If you'll recall, I made a point about doing so a while back— about removing the shackles of overthinking and paralyzing myself with doubt and fear. It wasn't the easiest thing, and I got myself into a fair bit of trouble trying to get out of that previous mindset. I was caught between overextending and overcorrecting from it.

I got every bit of the field test I could ask for of Crow's Beak, and could tell one thing right off the jump: I have catching up to do. The weight was different from everything I knew, the tactics were different, and that didn't even begin to touch upon what I needed to learn to truly maximize its penetrative force.

I even, despite my leaky sieve of a mind, managed to give Veronique Pressman my earnest thanks, right at the end. After the rush of discovering synthetic dust-fueled power armor, busting up would-be crime lords with a kitschy beat cop impression, and a series of impromptu field exams in what I had begun to learn in Dust Apps, I'd not blame anyone for thinking I'd lose sight of it in the mayhem. I certainly would have expected myself to forget the whole thing completely.

But I didn't.

And because of that, because I came through in the eleventh hour and put two and two together long after anyone would expect me to, I'd made a new friend.

So in sum, my first steps were stumbles into uncharted territory—

But I was doubtlessly moving forward.

My whole paradigm was shifting. Inch by inch, Lucas Schwarz felt himself treading new ground.

I couldn't possibly, in that light, call this any sort of epilogue.

What a bad joke that would be.

Nearly as bad as almost nodding off in a Waffle King after such an exciting morning. Night. I didn't really know by this point, having just come down from that whirlwind mission and really begun to feel the effects of the all-nighter I was pulling. Even an experienced gamer, an internet-addled fiend like me... We fell victim to such vices when we threw ourselves into such a taxing and high-tension affair. Even when we'd otherwise laugh it off and say we could grind out twelve more matches without even a blink.

A soft weight settling itself upon my shoulder broke me out of my stupor, and returned me to the present. Propping my elbow upon the table like that and staring down at my plate of food for a moment was a mistake. I'd given my chin somewhere to rest. More than even a mountain of syrup-glazed and butter coated chocolate chip waffles, I guess my body wanted to stop doing much of anything for a while.

"Hn?"

I slid my eyes somewhat placidly over to the side, in search of the culprit—

"!"

And stifled a surprised recoil as my eyebrows made to pull the rest of my face up with them. I knew Bianca and I were teammates now, friends now, but had we already bonded to the point of so casually leaning on eachother? Of taking advantage of the moments we let our guards down, and trading healthy shocks to the system?

If I was moving through life with a shaky step forward at a time, then she was launching in full-force! This woman didn't hold any trepidation in her heart!

How brazen!

...How cool.

Honestly.

"Yeah."

To think she looked ready to break only seven nights prior... and now here she was. Toasting in our gallant name as perhaps the proudest member of the wayward quartet that was JBLS. A broken bird, brought to earth and locked in an iron cage, the most pitiful figure I'd met in a long time.

She was to never fly again.

She was to never hunt again.

She was to never chase dreams again.

Her tale had tragically ended. Cut mercilessly short, with all but the final nail in its coffin.

Even so, here she was now, soaring ahead as if it had never happened. If I had even half the strength, half that resilience, I probably wouldn't even be me anymore. There was no way I couldn't be impressed. No way I couldn't be heartened.

"I'm honored to call you guys my team." I said, smiling as I raised my glass in turn. "It's been a bit of a revolving door lately, but I really do hope we can finally settle into a groove together, for what that's worth. Maybe we can start a few traditions of our own."

From shambles to pride. From torment to contentment. From despair to determination.

I had to smile.

To hell with endings.

If we really needed a punchline, I guess the joke's on me for even bringing it up.

"So, how'd the Stripes set that up, anyway? The special, I mean. Just always coming in?"

Sand sat cross-legged in a quiet corner of the Beacon gardens, eyes closed and back held straight in a meditative posture. Her hands rested together on her lap, palms facing upwards, and over which a single silver coin sat.

Her team’s mission concluded, she had barely taken the night of to sleep the exhaustion away before throwing herself back into her training.

Taking steady breaths, Sand sharpened her focus. Tiny white particles danced around the coin as she used her Semblance to slowly raise the small object in the air. Gently, steadily, so as to not send the lightweight disc flying, she pushed it upwards, until it had risen just over a feet above her hands. There, the coin ceased its steady ascent, trembling in the air. A crease formed on Sand’s brow, betraying her efforts, and she opened her eyes, glaring at the obstinate coin that refused to rise any further.

Finally, the small lights vanished, and the coin fell back onto her hands. Sand sighed, shuffling in place in an attempt to loosen her suddenly taut muscles.

A Semblance was a Huntsman most unique tool. Once discovered, they were expected to set apart some time to properly understand this power and to nurture its potential. Perhaps in this account it could be likened more to a singular muscle to train rather than a tool, but given the differences in the particulars for each individual, whatever was involved in this training could differ substantially per person. The help that could be rendered by friends and instructors was limited for those reasons.

Thus the evaluation of one’s progress and potential was largely left to the individual in question, and in that regard, Sand felt as though she had made little progress in some time. Much like the rising coin, her abilities seemed to have hit a ceiling of sorts. It was frustrating because she also believed there was more to be found, and yet her own efforts did little to support that belief.

Sand shook her head, blonde hair swishing to and fro, and she closed her eyes again. She focused again on the coin, feeling a tingling, electrical sensation spreading over her palm, and she knew without looking that the little motes of light that accompanied her power were dancing over it.

She could push and pull on things without touching them, as long as she was close enough. That was the extent of her ability, but it was a functional description based on experience, lacking explanation for the underlying principles. She was deeply aware of how limiting such an understanding of her semblance could be. After all, when it had first manifested, she had only known to pull things closer. Perhaps the fact of the matter was that she had gone as far as she could given her current understanding.

If she knew how her ability truly manifested, things would be different. There were some semblances that were tied very strictly to a specific phenomena, some which could result in abilities very similar to her own. If she came to understand the underlying principle, she could have a clearer picture of the possibilities. It was something she had thought on before, with some help of her instructors, and she remembered specific examples that had been brought to her attention.

The power to control magnetic fields could allow one to exert a force on objects without touching them, like she could, but then only if the objects in question were made of metal. The coin she held in her hand satisfied the criteria, but she had in several occasions used her ability without such limitations.

Gravitational fields could serve a similar, more general purpose. Perhaps too general, in fact, for she had seen students with powers that acted on such phenomena, and generating attractive or repulsive forces could be but the most basic of applications. None of them had been burdened with as limited a range as hers, however, nor had their powers affected them directly with each application, beyond perhaps feeling drained of energy. Sand’s power could not reach far as it stood, and every force she manipulated would always act on herself in an opposite way as whatever she sought to affect. In this manner, for example, she could use her power to jump higher than others, not by rendering herself weightless, but by pushing down on the earth with her power in concert with her physical legs.

Someone had once suggested to her that her semblance worked with similar principles as the ‘Casimir Effect’, but what she had been able to dig up on the subject did not convince her that her Semblance worked according to such a concept. After all, her ability was not limited to attractive forces, and its influence clearly extended beyond microscopic distances.

Sand sometimes wondered if people whose Semblance related to phenomena like those could ‘feel’ what they were manipulating. If a person could touch and describe the sensation of a magnetic or gravitational field in their grasp. When Sand used her Semblance, she felt pinpricks over her skin, but if she ignored the opposing pressure of the force she created, the feeling was more akin to her hand falling asleep than of grasping something outside herself.

“That would be a nice thought” she muttered, eyes still closed, “if I already had all I needed to solve this issue. If I could just take a deeper look inside...” A thought occurred to her as she trailed off, and her brow furrowed.

Sand’s slowed her breathing, attempting to regain the focus of her meditation. The sensation of pinpricks over her palms was still there, and Sand centered her attention on the sensation. In concert with with a long, deep breath, Sand willed the power back, as though to pull it deeper into herself. The electric feeling began to spread through her hands, steadily climbing up her arms. The sensation felt disconcertingly like all the blood in her arms was draining back to her heart, and the tightness in her chest from her held breath only enhanced the illusion.

Paradoxically, despite the feeling of numbness spreading through her hands, she could acutely feel the mounting pressure of the coin pressing against her open palm. Almost as if she was caressing it with her fingers, she could feel every ridge and groove over its surface. For a moment, she could almost picture the alien object pressing and slipping into the old scar it rested over, but she quickly dispelled the distracting image from her mind. It had been a long time since that accident, and her control over her semblance and aura had improved significantly.

The electric sensation spread until it reached her core, and there she held it like a bated breath, eager to be released. Her lungs echoed the sentiment, making her temples throb as they demanded fresh air. Sand opened her eyes, glaring at the coin pressing against her skin and slowly, steadily, agonizingly, Sand released the captive breath along with the power she held in check.

In a flutter of white motes, the coin began to rise, quickly hovering past the height it had reached before. One feet, two feet, three feet. Sand continued her slow exhalation despite her vision beginning to swim. Four feet, five. She had almost reached six when she her lungs emptied. The coin ceased its accent, trembling in the air as it had before. Finally, Sand was forced to take a breath, and the coin fell back down to her waiting hand.

She took a gulp of fresh air at that, leaning back out of her crosslegged pose to a more relaxed posture. She brought a hand to her forehead and only then realized that beads of sweat had begun to form over it.

Still, for all her ragged breathing, a satisfied smile formed on her lips. It had been some time since she had felt like she had made a breakthrough in her training. In fact, she thought as she resumed her previous posture, I should keep practicing before I forget this feeling.

No sooner had she closed her eyes, however, that her Scroll rang out.

Sand grumbled under her breath, producing the annoying thing from her pocket and silencing the timer announcing it was quarter to noon. For a moment she held it, quietly wondering whether it would be good for her to change her plans for the day to keep practicing, but quickly decided against it. There was something she had resolved to try that day, and she couldn’t keep postponing it forever.

---

The trip to their destination was a short one, and soon enough Stand stood before the door to team JBLS’s room. All she needed to do now was knock and see whether there was anybody home.

It was the simplest thing in the world. Nothing odd about it either. Not only were the room’s occupants her classmates in many of her courses, they were practically neighbors to her. There was nothing odd about her trying to get in touch with them.

Though I’m only truly interested in meeting Jericho. And I’m expected to write up surveillance reports about him. The fact that she had spent some her free time the previous week pinning down his schedule and learning about his teammates from what she could find in social media and the school directory did not make it easier to talk herself into it.

In fact, a mounting feeling of dread and exhaustion reared at the back of her mind, pleading her to go back to her practice, or to take a drive outside the school, or go read one of the books she had brought over from Atlas, or essentially do anything other than this. For a moment she even fancied that she would go back to the CCT tower, set up a meeting with the Professor, and burn that bridge for good. She might well had done it had she thought she was harming someone by keeping tabs on Jericho like this, or that someone else wouldn’t simply be sent in her place if she declined. That said, she had received documents that near enough proved the former wasn’t the case, and she was too pessimistic not to expect the latter.

The truth of the matter was that, ethical concerns aside, she was mostly afraid of going out of her way to interact with others. It was not a feeling she thought she would ever be completely rid of, but she had long been determined to try. Even if this occasion was particularly awkward.

Enough of that. Just need to stick to two principles. Try to act like a normal human being, and try not to make it obvious that you e-stalked half of them. She had practice with the first, at least.

After one last moment’s hesitation and ignoring the tightness in her chest, she rapped her knuckles against the door.

@HereComesTheSnow@Write@Plank Sinatra@FlitterFaux