Chapter 15: Bearing gifts.



For an impenetrable shield, stand inside yourself. For an inescapable prison, lock yourself in.

The library of Beacon academy is a criminally underrated place that is sorely missing visitors because of the terrible unpopularity of the concept of sitting down with a book in hand and a mug full of coffee among its supposed target audience, which is, of course, to say students. With the rampant spread of digitized media in all of its iterations, paper has… lost a lot of goodwill amongst the younger courses, as it tended to be the case with most universities, academies and really all kinds of institutions that have taken up the sacred vow to educate men and women from their late teens to early twenties. At this current moment, the few faces that were present in the library belonged mostly to the students of the third and fourth courses, either just spending quality time with their team before a new assignment would sweep them back into the fray of fending off the everlasting onslaught of Grimm, or in the search for information one would typically not find on the Internet.

And yet if one were to enter the library and take the turn opposite of that which would lead to the massive bookshelves, spanning the entire left side of the library with their even rows, and just stroll along the desktop rows, one would eventually find a small alcove not too far from the vestibule, but also removed enough from the main path that one wouldn't stumble upon it without explicitly looking for it. Inside one would find several chairs, two tables, and a most unusual company of four congregating there, of which only one was male. Despite all of them sporting the standard Beacon student attire, the differences between them were as glaring as Solaris' shine in the middle of summer, and not just physical.

Take the girls, for instance: one of them, clearly the youngest of the group, gifted with dark short hair with the subtlest hints of red in them and eyes of shining silver, was cautiously looking at her male compatriot, arching her brow in a mix of both bewilderment and irritation.

The other, the tallest of the three, had slightly tilted her head in confusion, letting the luscious mane of golden hair flow down her right shoulder, and in her lilac eyes one could still see traces of poorly contained anger, perhaps a residue from an intense argument.

The third, who, incidentally, was the only girl sitting, seemed to be the only one not overflowing with emotions: in fact, an inattentive observer would suggest that her attention was more focused on the book in her hands than on her teammates. Yet a more attentive one would certainly notice her amber eyes repeatedly snapping to her left, torn between the contents of the book and the contents of the debate. In fact, someone with a wild imagination could think that for a moment, the little bow on her head, almost unnoticeable in the surrounding of her black hair, twitched for a fraction of a second. Surely, that observer needs to reduce their intake of acid.

Lastly, the only member of the group who was not endowed at the torso, but instead at the waist. Or one would hope so… For his own good. Height above average, shoulders broader than even those of the golden-haired Huntress-to-be, his more than imposing stature was only furthered by his gray eyes that bore vague resemblance to the girl currently engaged in a staring competition with him. But where the girl's eyes were colored silver, a metal most noble, the boy's irises were much closer to steel: a metal made for killing. And, eerily reminiscent to the aforementioned metal, his glare had that same edge that a blade attains over the years. Not in fancy halls, not behind piles of books, not even on the battlefield, but in places far more sinister.

Still, at this particular moment, his disposition was anything but threatening. In fact, Ruby couldn't think of any other word to describe him better than "giddy", desperately trying to muffle a laugh and stop a smile from cracking his face ear to ear.

"What's so funny?"

Evidently, time alone would not bring him the peace of mind he required for a concise answer. As such, Darius had to take a long, deep breath… before completely ignoring Ruby's question and addressing Yang instead, a most unusual behavior for him.

"Yang, are you sure your sister is a human and not some sort of all-forgiving celestial being of pure innocence?" What's that supposed to mean?!

"I'm… honestly not sure," her sister, also completely ignorant of Ruby's inquisitive stare, adjusted her hair to observe the situation with both eyes, as opposed to only one. "Ruby, are you sure that's what you want to do?"

"What's the deal with you two?!" Growing tired of the spectacle, Ruby had to intervene.

"Well, look at it this way," one would assume a sleight of hand from Darius was supposed to indicate the way Ruby would have to look at it, but his palm was clearly showing at the nearby wall. "You just had a big falling out with Weiss. She obviously said some nasty stuff. Nasty enough to get you to shed a tear about it…"

"How'd you..?!"

"Your eyes are bloodshot, and they weren't when you left," shooting down a question before it even took off, the boy continued. "And not only do you keep defending her, you are currently suggesting we throw a birthday party for her to take her mind off of whatever got her down so much. Really doesn't leave us much options to speculate with. Either I'm right and you are obviously too pure for this world to be part of it, or you're suffering from a severe case of hostage syndrome, which would really just be the worst thing for a team leader to suffer from, or…" Interrupting himself mid-sentence, Darius lapsed into silence for a full five seconds as his eyes dilated from normal-sized to platter-sized and then back to normal. He quietly cleared his throat before continuing. "Ahem. Point is, I'm still not following you on how exactly it's going to help. It's not like her problems will just vanish into thin air after that."

"You're speaking just like her, you know?" Ruby shuddered. The resemblance of the last phrase was truly uncanny. He just shrugged in response.

"Look," After a moment's silence, Ruby spoke up again. Quietly, at that. She did not start this conversation to argue with her teammates, nor did she want to. If anything, she felt drained of every last little bit of energy. "I know it sounds… well, not smart. But… I'm just really tired of this. She hasn't properly talked to any us for almost a week, and this is what I got when I tried to shake her up! And I don't know what else I have to do to finally convince her we're a team and not just someone sharing a room when we're not out there. I'm out of options. So are you guys gonna help me with this or no?"

"Ruby…" Unbeknownst to Ruby, Yang had made several steps to the side while she was talking, pulling her sister in for an embrace. "You know I always got your back. Besides, it's cold enough even without Weiss being a jerk. Maybe that will heat things up a bit."

She threw a glance at Darius, who was now looking back at her with an apologetic half-smile on his lips. "I… may have underestimated how seriously you take all of this. I feel like I should apologize," he bowed his head a little. "Sorry. I'll help. Blake?"

"Like I have a choice," she sighed, finally closing the book and muttering something Ruby couldn't hear in detail. From her looks, however, she easily theorized that Blake was currently questioning how she ended up in life where she was, that is to say conspiring with a team of future Hunters to throw a surprise birthday party for another one.

"Alright," Blake continued, throwing an inquisitive glare at the team, yet holding it on Ruby just a little bit longer than the others. "How exactly are we going to prepare a party without Weiss knowing? Our room is a bit small for that." A second's pause later, she added: "Actually, scratch that. What are we even planning to do?"

Ruby, blindsided by such a sudden change of mind of everyone involved, struggled to come up with concise words, much less plans. "I… Ehm… I didn't expect to come this far, honestly. I'm still working on that. Thanks, guys?.."

"Don't sweat it," Yang's cheery suggestion was immediately followed by a slap on the back, sending the girl tumbling forward and not adding any clarity whatsoever to her state of mind. "I heard the weather guy on TV say that the weather's gonna clear up by the end of the next week. Maybe we could camp out somewhere, roast some marshmallows or whatnot."

"Pretty sure the weather guy was the weather chick," Blake's pedantic correction had Yang throw her a gaze full of promises of slow and painful death while angling her eyebrows in the most intimidating manner she could muster. While potentially deadly to someone not acquainted with her for any extended period of time, this had absolutely no effect on the raven-haired girl, who resumed as if nothing happened. "Besides, I don't think that Weiss likes marshmallows. Or that any of us do, really."

"Got anything constructive to contribute, maybe?"

"I'm asking questions important to the organization of the party!"

"Like what kind of pair the weather person has?!"

"Girls!" Darius' attempt to interject was responded to with both girls turning their heads towards him in perfect sync, followed by them preparing to most likely scream "SHUT UP!", but instead only gazing in confusion at his index fingers shoved dangerously closely to their eyes. Seemingly satisfied with the result, he pulled his hands away before he had a chance to lose them to the blind fury of the two. "We may be straying off course here." After this statement he proceeded, speaking very slowly and accentuating every word. "Now, Yang raises several valid points; for instance, her assumption that the biological sex of the person that was narrating the specifics of the weather in the coming week was not of import for our little plan here is not unfounded. Furthermore…"

"Can you, like, turn the condescension down a notch?" Neither amused nor impressed in the slightest by the approach chosen by her teammate, Yang threw him the grumpiest of all looks to further her point. "You sound like friggin' Glynda right now."

"It's good form," without showing any signs of being threatened by the blonde's angled eyebrows, Darius nevertheless returned to his normal way of speaking. "Point is: camping out seems like a pretty good idea in my opinion, though we should probably drop the marshmallows. Question: where? It may stop snowing for the time being, but it'll probably still be too cold for the three of you."

"The Forest of Forever Fall…"

"…Is forbidden territory for first years without the explicit consent or supervision of a teacher," Blake's suggestion was interrupted in its very beginning. "So unless one of you feels up to playing diplomat with them, it's not an option." After a short pause, Darius added:

"That said, Port would probably be pretty easy to convince that we can stand our ground."

"Forever Fall would be pretty sweet, yeah," Ruby nodded. "Yang, could you do that maybe? He seems to like you."

"Su-u-u-ure…"

"Ya-ay," paying no attention to the uncertainty in Yang's voice, she picked up the metaphorical thread of the conversation. Da-a-amn that was fancy. "That… actually seems like it'd work, I think. Wow. I… thank you… I…"

My mumbling is really not helping.

"Don't sweat it," this time, the encouragement came from Blake, who was still staring down Ruby, almost as if waiting for something. "But… aren't we forgetting something?"

"Eh?" Alas, Blake's question fell numb on the girl's ears, prompting the former to sigh with resignation.

"I cannot believe I'm saying this, but…" another sigh preceded the end of her reluctant supposition. "It is her birthday. Shouldn't we get her something…nice, as a present?.."

A-a-and we're back to square one.

For the third time today in a timespan all too short to be comfortable with she, along with her team, found herself in the uncomfortable state of being at a total loss for words, which did not get any better as she exchanged glances with each of her subordinates, for with every instance of eye contact she saw but a reflection of her own cluelessness.

Although... She could never be certain in Darius' case, as she could never keep eye contact with the Atlesian long enough to fully appreciate all the emotions reflected in his gaze. At least, not before being prompted to look anywhere but. Either by the glacial edge of his iris, or, more disturbingly, by the something lurking in the depths of his pupils, that spark of what she suspected to be pure insanity popping in and out of sight. So fleeting and transient it sometimes taunted her to question her own mental integrity, to ask herself: "Am I just imagining this? Am I the coo-coo one?"

Then again, she heard the others quietly complain about it more than once. As acknowledged by the boy himself, his eyes never were something that added to his "public image". And in any case, this was hardly the time to get under her teammate's skin, as she was both subject and perpetrator to the same procedure oh-so-recently and she was most certain that Darius would turn out just as efficient as Weiss in hitting where it hurts, if not more. Atlesians give me the creeps sometimes. Maybe I just know the wrong ones.

Some hidden part of her brain told Ruby she had been asked something. Scrambling to rewind her short-term memory, the girl realized it was her own sister asking her whether she came up with anything. Further scrambling the rest of her gray matter that was not occupied by various data mercilessly crammed in there by teachers at Signal and, later, Beacon, a second later a response emerged:

"I… uh… a gun?"

What are you talking about. She doesn't need a gun. Nobody needs a gun. Maybe Darius. 'Cuz he doesn't have a gun.

But then he can't use his scythes properly. So, he doesn't need a gun, either.

A scythe-gun?

No, that's what I have. She has a rapier.

Rapier-gun?

But where would I fit it?..

"Ru-u-u-uby?.." a voice beckoned her back into reality.

"Wha...?!"

"You need a nap," the same voice concluded. After taking a moment to finally recollect her thoughts and stop them from leaking all over the place, Ruby made the connection that the voice could not belong to any of the girls and therefore had to belong to Darius. It took her another second to refocus her gaze and direct them at the owner of the voice.

"Naw, I don't need… a nap," she said. Or, at the very least, she tried to say that. What came out of her mouth was a mess so jumbled she herself had difficulties deciphering it into a coherent sentence. An attempt to feign a dismissive hand wave ended up yanking her in the direction her arm went, forcing her to take a step to regain her balance.

"Ruby?!" Instantaneously changing her tone to bordering on panic, Yang, who never actually left her side, had entrapped her shoulders in an iron grip, keeping her upright.

"I'm alright," Ruby's weak objection did nothing to liberate her from Yang's captivity, but it did convince her to slightly relax her hands.

"A-a-and there's that," stated by Blake as a matter of fact.

"Tell you what," Darius stood up and closed the distance, slightly bending over to continue looking her in the eyes. "Take a break. Come to me in the evening, I might have an idea." With that, he straightened up and looked around, addressing the rest of the group. "Seems like we've got stuff to do for now. I'm planning to go overdose on caffeine. Who's in?"

Ruby failed to pay attention to the rest of the conversation. Having finally freed herself from her sister's care, she stumbled over to the table and took a seat. If she were to be frank with herself, she'd like nothing more than to black out for several hours right about now. It would seem that not even curiosity regarding another one of her teammate's schemes could deter her mind from falling into the blissful embrace of nothingness.

As her thoughts had slowed down to a crawl, the last thing she realized was that her head just rammed full speed into the table.

Darius was sitting at one of the Beacon cafeteria's many tables, currently teeming with people either hiding from the cold or, opposite of that, actively seeking out some hot action. While the cafeteria itself never lacked popularity among the student population, this fall's unusually cold days had the freezing pupils flocking here, drawn by the allure of hot fire and even hotter drinks. He, on the other hand, as witness to the phenomenon of the Atlesian winter and survivor of the worst kind of it, couldn't care less. He was just here for the coffee.

He tilted his head to look less at his surroundings and more at the contents of the table. Slightly to the side of him stood a colossal mug filled to about three quarters with liquid one could mistake for tar at the first glance. Upon closer inspection, however, one would immediately realize their mistake and recognize the liquid as coffee, and should one happen to be a connoisseur of the fine drink, they would most definitely appraise its high quality. With its mind-numbing aroma and the rich hue of black, such coffee only grew in a few of Vacuo's oases or comparatively small patches of Mistral soil, nourished over centuries with copious amounts of volcanic soot. To fully appreciate the wide spectrum of flavors that this coffee possessed, one was to ingest the liquid in small doses, savoring each sip until one started feeling the gentle tingle of bitterness. And under no circumstances was the coffee to be mixed with any heinous substances like milk or, Light forbid, sugar!

Unfortunately, Darius was completely ignorant of the finer details of the fine art of coffee drinking, and, as such, grabbed the small kettle of milk served together with his drink and poured some until the coffee turned to one of the darker shades of brown, adding two teaspoons of sugar to the mix. Having carefully dissolved the sugar in the mug, he felt a smile crawling across his face completely against his will as the coffee slid down his throat. It was, after all, very good coffee.

Throwing yet another sweeping glance at the café, he couldn't help but be astonished that he somehow managed to find a completely vacant table to sit at in the midst of what equated to the rush hour on steroids for this fine establishment. Though, with a bit more thought given to the notion, he came to think that the infamous "Silva charm" may or may not have had a hand in this, as he remembered noticing a pair of students scurrying away in the vicinity of this very table. Darius also could remember a look being shot at him by one of the students exiting the building as he was sitting down by the freshly vacated table. He got a lot of such looks.

And yet the truly mind-blowing thing for him was not this, but the fact that he was not alone at that table. Past the mug, past the assorted cutlery, Blake was sitting in front of him, straw in mouth, sipping on some drink whose name he'd already tossed out of his memory, courtesy of himself. As he looked at her, he could feel the question he'd been asking himself this entire time metaphorically smack him on the dome yet again.

She's sitting right in front of me. Drinking some weird concoction she agreed I pay for. Sipping it in a way that suggests thirst is the literal last thing that bothers her. All while being the only person who decided to actually respond to my suggestion of going to this place.

What is happening?

What's happening is that you've been ogling her for a good six seconds and she's noticed it. Say something, you're getting even weirder.

"How's the drink?"

Blake, who was, in fact, looking straight back at Darius for the duration of this little monologue, slightly arched her brow before snapping her eyes at the glass in her hand for a fraction of a second, then back at the boy.

"It's pretty good. You buying one, too?"

"No," after a short pause to consider his next move, Darius decided to go with good, old-fashioned truth. "But it is the only question I managed to come up with after several seconds of awkward silence," he chuckled. "I didn't expect anyone to accept my offer, and I certainly didn't expect my whim of offering you a drink to succeed. Not sure what to think."

"Well…" had he been blind, he wouldn't notice anything unusual in Blake's behavior. However, being blessed with the gift of twenty-twenty sight, he saw Blake slightly shift her eyes, suddenly looking through him instead of at him. The fact that she slightly shifted in her chair only further confirmed his suspicions that neither of them were in their respective comfort zones. "I… No, I actually don't have an answer for this. How do you manage being this direct?"

She says as she redirects it all at me. I guess I'll play along.

"It's the Silva way." For him, the answer was self-explanatory. For Blake, understandably, it probably wasn't. "A Silva does not mince their words. A Silva is not afraid to speak the truth. A Silva does what needs to be done and faces the consequences, whatever those might be. That's what I was taught. Sounds terribly cliché, I know, but it's been working out for me so far."

A whole lot of truth you told them. Like how you're a trained assassin in an ancient religious cult. Or how you're Ozpin's sleuth. Or how you chose to abandon any semblance of humanity in exchange for power and how that façade you're wearing is thinner than a sheet of paper.

Though, granted, you did tell them the last one, sort of, kind of. So, credit where it's due.

"That… seems terribly impractical for who you were."

"We were many things," his tone stark, Darius was intent on correcting the obvious misunderstanding between the two of them. "We were conquerors. Then, we were innovators. And only then we were merchants. Besides, I'm sure father would teach me the merits of watching my tongue in due time."

Emphasis on "would". Look who's going on a rant again.

This is a matter worth ranting about.

"Aren't you… forgetting something?" He saw Blake slightly smirk. Guess I'll bite. It's already less dialogue and more interrogation. Might as well spill all of it.

"I'm guessing you mean the 'bloodthirsty oppressors' stage," the frown on Blake's face corresponded perfectly with his own reaction to his voice growing metallic. It would seem neither of them actually wanted to escalate the conflict. "In which we mercilessly dispersed the 'peaceful' protests with brand new non-lethal weaponry developed and manufactured by us specifically to avoid just shooting everyone involved."

"Oh, so it's their fault for protesting their treatment and they should be thankful that you didn't just kill them?" she hissed. Why are we still going at it?

He took a long breath to calm his mind. He had no intentions of tossing all the progress he had made in his time here out of the window. "The Silva Armaments was one of the few companies that offered equal pay for both Faunus and humans up until after the Faunus War, when its own employees began sabotaging production with the spread of White Fang rhetoric," with another hearty gulp out of the mug, he extended his hand as a sign of peace. "Look. I really don't want to continue this because another exchange like this may very well put us back to square one, if not further. I'm not denying what we have done. Never did. But with how I've been brought up, I refuse to believe we did it for the sake of it. Now. Can we change the topic?"

"Yes," this time he would not even need eyes to notice the palpable relief with which Blake agreed to let this go. She cautiously looked around to make sure their conversation did not attract more attention than it needed to, which is to say none at all. Luckily, the two of them sitting in the far corner of the cafeteria were no eye magnet, so she continued. "It's just… I was taught that you were the worst thing to happen to us since humans tried to cull us in the Menagerie." Which did not stop you from accepting it as a gift afterwards and settling sixty percent of your population there, he-he. "So whenever I talk to you, I'm… just…"

"…Utterly surprised I'm actually a half-decent human being?"

No you're not.

"…Yes."

Raises a question who she'd get her education from…

AW COME THE FUCK ON. Drop the denial already; she's obviously ex-White Fang. Nothing indoctrinates, or trains, quite like a racial hate group with an inbuilt echo chamber. Only reason you still haven't torn her to shreds is because of your constant self-delusion that you still belong to the species of homo sapiens and the fact you're desperately trying to score.

"…Darius?"

It was at this point that Darius realized that maybe he'd let this three-way conversation go on a little too long, performing an exhale so deep his vision went dark for a millisecond and any and all thought was purged from his head. As he put his cup on the table after taking yet another gulp of caffeinated liquid, he noticed a tiny flicker of black smoke twist around his palm. He simply clenched it into a fist. To his great displeasure, he realized his hand was shaking.

"Yes?"

"Are you… alright?" Blake asked. Smirk gone without a trace, eyebrow still arched, but this time less in surprise and more in… concern? "You look a bit pale."

"Hmph. Might be the caffeine kicking in." He didn't care that the excuse was weak. It would suffice. Anything would, really. Anything to shift the attention away from the weakness of limbs and the disarray in thoughts. Thankfully, the shock left as quickly as it set in, and a mere second later he managed to regain the grip on his body, including the gripping appendages themselves. Having decided to celebrate this with another chug of coffee, he found himself impaled by Blake's gaze as he put the empty mug down. As expected, he could read a library's worth of unanswered questions in her eyes, but at the current moment, it did not look like she would demand immediate answers from him, for which he was grateful. Both knew they were being dishonest to each other. Both decided to let it slide for the time being.

The hoops I jump through to get a girl's attention…

"If I might," realizing that, as before, he would have to be the driving force behind the narrative, lest the conversation devolve into awkward silence, he decided to pursue this one-of-a-kind opportunity to talk to her about anything other than himself. "Back at the library, I expected you to be the last person to suggest something constructive towards the… organization aspect, let alone use 'Weiss' and 'nice' in the same sentence. Why such a sudden change of attitude?"

"Well… would you believe me if I said that birthdays without presents just feel wrong to me?" a one-sided shrug accompanied her answer.

"Wrong enough to agree to throw a party for a Schnee, of all people?"

"Ruby wouldn't forgive me if I didn't. Besides, I gave you a chance, why not her?" as a wry smile lit up Darius' face, followed by a vague circular motion of the palm as an encouragement to further elaborate on the topic, Blake sighed. "Fine, I'll say it. Maybe there is a person behind the bitchy attitude and overinflated ego. Baited me right into it…"

"No baiting or trapping involved," he rebuked. "It's just nice to see the five of us putting our differences aside in the face of imminent demise at the paws of angry Grimm. Because let's get real: we're one big freak show. I wonder if Ozpin and the teachers are making bets on how long we're gonna last before either killing each other or ruining the school. Same for the guys in Juniper… well, to a certain degree. Roughly to Nora degrees Celsius."

"I see you have a lot of faith in us…" Judging by the subtle sparks lurking in his companion's eyes and the fact Blake looked distinctly more relaxed in that chair of hers, it appeared to Darius that he, for once, was doing something right. So, why not escalate things again?

"I'm going to hold you to that accusation after I'm done describing the various follies of our team in great detail."

"Do tell."

"Well, why don't we start off with the fact that we're a five-man team?" And what team. I wonder if people have already started spreading rumors of the great Silva harem. "It's rare to have a Hunter team with more or less than four people in it because more often than not this tends to shred the established team dynamic."

"How's that?" Blake interjected, taking another sip of whatever contorted beverage she had in her glass. As her straw grasped air, she had no other choice but to put it to the side, accompanied by a disappointed sigh.

"I… decided to read up on how Hunter training is usually conducted," he began, carelessly "forgetting" to mention exactly how many of the manuscripts and books on the subject originated from the members of his or the opposite Order. "There is heavy emphasis put on the importance of developing interactions of the pairs. Remember the Initiation, where Ozpin declared that the first person we'd lock eyes with would become our partner for the duration of the training?" Pausing the speech and waiting for Blake's nod of affirmation, he then continued. "That's not just his whim or Beacon 'house rule', that's one of the doctrines accepted in all four academies! A Hunter team does not consist of four parts; it consists of two. And despite what Goodwitch is currently trying to feed us about the importance of all four of us working together, the first two years are really just dedicated to making a pair a cohesive fighting unit, and only then are pairs "merged" into a team. The two halves tend to end up heavily reliant…" he paused again. "…I would even say dependent on each other in combat and, eventually, in day-to-day lives. I'm sure you can see the merits and the shortcomings of this approach."

He didn't doubt for a second that Blake understood the possible implications to their fullest extent. That the halves, despite being capable of true greatness when combined, would end up more like fifths when separated. That a Hunter sacrificed their potential as an autonomous unit to achieve synergy with another one. That a lone Huntsman wandering the roads was far less likely to turn out a shining beacon of hope as they are made out to be by the legends of yore, but instead merely a shard of something that was once whole, forever doomed to remain broken and gimped by a cruel twist of fate.

He did not even want to think about those unfortunate few whose match just didn't work out.

"And now imagine how things unfold when you throw a wrench into the setup, that is to say a Hunter that doesn't have a pair," he proceeded, as this remained his only choice. "The problem is that unless the person has truly extraordinary abilities, like, say, in my case, no bragging intended, they simply cannot compete with a duo of Hunters. They cannot be trained by the same guidelines a pair is trained, they cannot complete the challenges that two trainees would overcome through teamwork. So far, there are generally two ways such situations resolve: either the fifth one becomes a literal third wheel in the murder bicycle of a Hunter team and doesn't last for long…" Fancy allegories you got going. "…or they learn to output as much on their own as the rest of the team is taught to do in pairs. You might imagine how this might lead to friction in the team, especially in the questions of leadership."

And now she's freaked out. You really have a fancy for lighting your own pyre, don't you?

Much as Darius hated to agree with himself at times, reality spoke clearer than he ever could hope to. Clearly he had gone overboard when describing the intricacies of the Hunter setups that broke the status quo, as could be seen by Blake relapsing into silence. And this time, he was not at all sure he could remedy the situation.

"Those are some… grim predictions, to say the least," finally, after about ten full seconds of silence, the Faunus chose to resume the conversation. "I can even see where you're coming from with the doubts of us succeeding. But… what are we supposed to make of this?"

"You start in the right place, but arrive to the wrong conclusion," he chuckled. Maybe there was a chance after all. "After all, there are two sides to every coin. We may have a defunct composition, but any team is still only as strong as its components. And in that respect, the freak factor is absolutely on our side."

"Think so?"

"Where should I start?.." feigning intense thought for a couple of seconds, Darius eventually dropped the act and continued. "Why not talk about our glorious leader, a girl bumped up two years' worth of training and who's more socially inept than I am? Accompanied by her obviously half-sister who has to get mad at everything around her in order to fight effectively and spends the time she's not mad making everyone else mad with her stupid puns?"

"Some of them are kind of funny… sometimes…"

"Not worth it. Further participants of the weirdo circus are two members of what essentially is Atlesian nobility, both from equally infamous lines, of whom one is not right in the head and the other one is an asshole. I'll let you decide who's who."

"That's putting it lightly. In both cases," Blake smirked.

"I'll have you know this wound you just gave me will never heal," despite his best efforts, the deadpan tone and facial expression he mustered for this particular phrase failed to linger and he couldn't help but break into a smile by the end of the sentence. "Lastly we have this really quiet girl who seems to be really proud of who she is but is refusing to come out of the closet."

"It's not that simple!"

"Do tell." After a moment's consideration, Darius… reconsidered. "Actually, hold off for a second, I'm not done yet. Here's the kicker: each and every one of these people has spent at least half their lifetime honing their body and, hopefully, their mind, to then hone them for four more years to become the ultimate killing machines of Remnant and spend the rest of their lives fighting alongside three more people like them against a never ending scourge of Grimm. You can't possibly get a more volatile combination than this. We're bound for either glory or horrible, horrible failure. And you know what?" He stopped and looked Blake in the eyes. With a half-smile still on her lips, Blake slightly raised her eyebrow in anticipation of the inevitable punchline. "So far, I don't see us failing. I mean, we've got pretty good grades across the board and are tied with Juniper for the most effective fighters. So, returning to that accusation of yours I promised to hold you to: I have a lot of faith in us, because if anyone can pull off this defunct composition, it's going to have to be the five of us." With that, he kicked back in his chair, throwing a look around the cafeteria. "Seems that people are slowly leaving. Just the right time for you to finally explain to me why you persist in your delusion that you're too weird for us. Well… other than the smut."

Instead of a verbal answer, he got a fiery gaze thrown at him by Blake, but it was rather obvious that this passionate speech of his had an effect on her, as was indicated by her just staring into nothing, tapping lightly on her side of the table in some semblance of a tune.

I guess we keep talking. Oh, Dark, my throat…

"A Lien for your thoughts?"

It was not until another five seconds that Blake returned back to the world of the waking, blinking and refocusing her eyes on the boy taking a deep gulp from a glass of water nearby.

"You know… It definitely occurred to me that we're a pretty odd bunch, but when you put it like that… I actually can't help but feel that compared to the four of you, I'm just some Faunus. Take any other team and I'd most likely be the black sheep, but here?.."

"Funnily enough, this is probably true for every one of us. Yang or I would probably end up unwillingly terrorizing the rest of the team. Weiss would treat them less like teammates and more like crew until inevitably… put in her place. You…" he shrugged. The potential consequences of Blake ending up in a non-Faunus team were rather self-explanatory. This time, for both of them.

"So… it's true that the only place where freaks like us can belong is among other freaks?"

"Well, look at it like that. This is the price we pay for being waaay above the curve. One can't gain something without sacrificing something else. You can't change who you are, and neither can we. Except maybe Weiss, she can definitely lay off the attitude sometimes. I'm sure she'll come around eventually, though. So, could all of this mean we'll finally see you without the stupid bow anytime soon?"

"I'm pretty sure I'll still catch hate from the Ice Queen and that, in turn, will upset Ruby further. Also…" she pressed her lips together, and a second later Darius understood why. "Also I still don't know if I can trust them to not spread the information further. Don't think that the rest of the school will take kindly to the fact. Even got someone particular in mind."

Yeah, so do I. Maybe break his jaw again.

"Trust me, but not them?"

Hello-o selective memory. Not ashamed of yourself?

"Last I recall you just up and busted me. Didn't really have a choice. Though, on that note… thank you for not telling."

"You're not going to keep this in secret for four years. Delaying… never makes things easier."

Says who?

Pretty sure my religious beliefs are easier to conceal than a pair of ears.

Keep telling yourself that.

Throwing a brief look at the scroll in his pocket told him it was high time picked up and got working. As nice as this was, he still had a scheme to hatch. Thus, he sighed, pulling out a wallet and putting down ten Lien on the table. At the very least, he still had the stretch between here and the dorms.

"I'm afraid it's about time I started working on that promise I made to Ruby. Still have a theory to test. Come along?"

"Not like I have better things to do. You didn't exactly tell me what you were planning?"

"You never asked," walking through the exit, Darius chuckled. "Besides, I myself have only a vague idea and it's not guaranteed to work out. I guess it'll be a surprise for all three of us."

Damn automatic doors.