Just heading off something I've had a few people ask in PM's. I feel like it should be obvious by what I've shown before, but here goes. No, I am not changing Ilia from gay to straight. Ilia is interested in women. That should be obvious by now. Any friendly interaction with Jaune is just that. I don't subscribe to the school of thought where a blush means romance. Ilia can blush at something Jaune says and vice versa and have it mean nothing. It's just them being embarrassed about something.

Just keep that in mind. I've already said I'll not reveal pairings and I won't, but since some people are really getting worked up over it to me, I'll confirm this is not Jaune x Ilia.

Cover Art: Serox

Chapter 18

If there was one small benefit of being the leader of an operation like the White Fang, it was that he didn't have to get his hands dirty. He had minions for that. Employees sounded better, but he wasn't paying them, while recruits didn't fit because they had a fresh batch of those. Adam suggested compatriots in his dreams, but that hinted a little too close to Jaune being an actual terrorist, so they – and by they he meant he – decided to call them minions.

Ilia didn't care for it.

Yuma thought it hilarious.

His minions were currently handling the initial training of the new White Fang recruits – those that had stuck around. To the surprise of only Jaune, everyone else said it was common, only about half the people who `joined up` with them the night before showed today. Cold feet, Ilia said. A sudden case of the nerves, Trifa called it. Pussies, Yuma called them.

Jaune called them smart. The others didn't get it.

Still, those that remained – around twenty in all – were the more loyal and dedicated of the bunch, which directly translated to fanatical and therefore dangerous. Whipping them into shape had been the obvious choice, though not, as one might have thought, in the conventional sense.

"You come across an elderly human lady crossing the street," Sun barked. "What do you do?"

"Make an example of her!" Fenris roared. "For the Fang! Arooooo!"

"Wrong! Twenty push-ups!"

"Ignore her?" another tried.

"Wrong! Ten push-ups!"

"Ask her if she's single."

"Wrong. And ewww! Five laps of the warehouse. You help the old lady. Do you understand? We're trying to improve our reputation, not kill it. You help the old lady across the street." Sun wiped the back of his hand over his forehead. "Am I understood?"

"Yes Solar Flare!"

Jaune sighed and approached. "Sun-"

"Ah." Sun stopped him. "Solar Flare. It's my codename."

"Sun, no one uses codenames."

"Really? You tellin' me `Banesaw` is his real name?"

"Yes."

Sun blinked. "Huh. Well we should use codenames. What's the point of masks to hide our identity if we're going to call one another by name?"

"If you want to disguise yourself you should wear a shirt."

"I am wearing a shirt."

Jaune glanced down at the wide-open scrap of white cloth bravely clinging to Sun's shoulders and little else. It was a battle he wasn't sure he wanted to get into – and one he wasn't convinced any of the female recruits of the White Fang would thank him for. Other than Ilia. Aside from being not interested in Sun for obvious reasons, she'd developed something of a hate for him for entirely unrelated ones.

"Solar Flare?" she sniped. "That's practically the same as Sun. I guess I shouldn't expect vast intellect from someone like you."

"Ilia," he returned. "You're looking green today."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not using my chameleon abilities."

Sun grinned. "I meant the jealousy."

"Pft. As if I could be jealous of anything you have." Tossing her head, she turned to him. "Jaune, I really don't think it's a good idea to let this idiot into the leadership of the organisation. We were doing perfectly fine with just the few of us."

"Wasn't it you with Sienna who pushed for me to recruit more people?"

"Uh. W-Well yes, but I've changed my mind." Planting her hands on her hips, she defiantly asked, "Are you saying I can't change my mind?"

"Right now? Yes. It's a little late for that." Sun was doing fine, too. He was the one person here who fully subscribed to the same ideals he did, so if he could impart that on some of the idiots – especially that one idiot – then all the better. "Besides, I need you with me to find our next target."

"What's this?" Sun asked. "Not gonna rough someone up for information, are ya?"

"It's none of your business!" Ilia snapped.

"It's our informant," Jaune said.

"Jaune!"

"Oh. Cool. Can I come?"

"No."

"Yes."

"Jaune!" Ilia stamped her foot on his. "No!"

"I already said yes," he apologised. "Besides, we've nothing to hide."

"We're terrorists. We have everything to hide. Not to mention out informant wants to remain secret." Tugging his arm, she pulled him away from Sun and the recruits. "We need to talk in private."

"Oh." Sun smirked. "Is that one of those women only conferences?"

Ilia sneered at him while still pulling Jaune out into a separate room. He allowed it, if only because he saw it as a convenient way to escape more training. Plus, Ilia was usually on point when it came to problems. "Okay," Jaune said. "You're mad. What's wrong?"

Closing the door, Ilia leaned against it, arms crossed under her chest. Her pout was legendary.

"I'm not mad."

"Ilia, I grew up with seven sisters. I can tell when I've said something to piss a girl off. I piss them off all the time."

"Don't objectify me."

"Technically, I'm objectifying myself. Accurately."

Angrily, she looked away. "Why do you trust Sun so easily?"

"He seems like a nice guy." It apparently wasn't the correct answer as Ilia's eyes snapped back to his, her lips tugging down. "And I mean, he's a huntsman, right? They're good people – always risking their lives to fight the Grimm. I wanted to be a huntsman."

"And they rejected you for being faunus and thus you joined the White Fang in anger?"

"Uh. No." A bead of sweat ran down his face. "Not quite."

"I guess it doesn't matter. He's not on our side, Jaune." Ilia pushed off the door and faced him. "We're terrorists; he's a huntsman. He's not even pretending to be loyal to us. He's here to catch you doing wrong and arrest you. He's basically an undercover cop."

"Except not undercover?"

"Yes!"

"Look, I get what you mean." He really did. Half the time he had no idea what he was doing, but not wanting to be arrested was a top priority. "The thing is, we're not intending to do anything he can trap us for."

"And what if he changes his mind? What if he turns on us?"

"He doesn't seem the type."

"People change," Ilia stressed. "Blake didn't seem the type either, but she betrayed us all. And it might not even be his choice. He's still a huntsman – what happens if Beacon finds out and threatens to expel him if he doesn't rat on us?"

That was a risk. It wasn't one they could prepare for, though. Realistically speaking any of them could be captured and given that choice. It didn't feel like a specific Sun problem. In fact, few of the things she'd said felt like they were directed all too personally at him. Jaune cocked his head to the side and asked, "What do you want me to do with him? I can't get rid of him."

"I-I know that." Ilia looked away. "Just trust him a little less. I'm – I mean we – are the ones you should trust."

"I do trust you."

Her lips drew upward. "Good."

A fist slammed on the door. "You two done making out in there?" Yuma called through. When Ilia wrenched the door open with a furious expression, the bat faunus smiled cheekily. "Oh hey, you're both still dressed."

"Yuma," Ilia seethed, stomping past him.

Jaune sighed. "Yuma. You know she's not like that."

"Oh, I know. Just wanted to rile her up. It's cute how possessive she's being right now."

"Possessive?"

"If you don't know, boss, you don't know. Let's just say a certain someone likes her new position as defacto second in command and leave it at that. Anyway, Lisa called to say she's finished the background checks. Asked if you wanted to come down to her place and pick them up."

"That's good timing. I wanted to find our next target off her anyway."

"Nice." Yuma's face lit up. "All this recruiting business has me going soft. About time we got a chance to go on another raid. Maybe try and make this one a little more focused toward faunus, yeah? I know, I know," he said when Jaune frowned. "We're helping everyone. I get that. I'm just saying the new recruits are still iffy on it all, so maybe go easy on them? This'll be their first mission. Might not want to blow their minds right away."

Hmm. He had a point. "I'll see what Lisa has available."

"Make it something action packed, yeah?"

"I'll do my best."

/-/

Ilia and Sun should have been a cat and dog faunus respectively. It would have made the elevator ride up to Lisa Lavender's penthouse suite a little more understandable. Frosty didn't begin to describe the atmosphere inside that glass box. They sniped, glared, made little comments, and otherwise took whatever pot-shots they could take. If Ilia weren't so blatantly into women, he'd have said she and Sun had a thing going on.

And they did. It was an angry working relationship thing.

Jaune sighed and adjusted his brown wig. He'd gone as a man today – a shock to everyone – and only tossed on a wig and a black suit jacket over his jeans. Since they were meeting late in the evening at a fancy apartment block, the only people he had to interact with was a taxi driver and a few people they walked past on the way in.

"-all that testosterone has clearly gone to your head if you think that."

"Well you keep bringing up my muscles. Mixed messages."

"If you're mistaking the message I'm sending you, let me make it abundantly clear – I don't trust you."

"Sure you don't mean you're jealous your boss trusts me as much as he does you?"

"Please. Jaune trusts me far more than he ever would you."

"Yeah? Maybe we should ask him."

"Maybe we should!"

Sweat ran down Jaune's face. His eyes remained fixed on the reflective glass, though he tried to pierce beyond it and far into the distance where he wasn't trapped in a confined space with two nutcases.

"Jaune," Ilia demanded. "Which of us-"

The elevator pinged and opened. "We're here!" Jaune all but shouted, throwing himself out and at Lisa Lavender's door. He hammered on it urgently, practically weeping with relief when she opened it a second later to let them in.

"Whoah," Sun gasped. "Lisa Lavender!?"

"Sun Wukong," she returned, eyes narrowed. "Seventeen years of age, born and orphaned in Vacuo before winning a scholarship to Have. Leader of Team SSSN. Only Neptune Vasilias is in Vale – your current teammates are still in Haven but will arrive soon. Room 216 in Beacon. Second floor."

It was a threat. Lisa had been through all the files Yuma sent through and was as good as telling Sun she knew more about him than he did her. Enough to ruin him if he so much as considered revealing her name to the proper authorities.

Of course, Sun being Sun, he either missed it entirely or didn't care.

"That's so cool! Dude, you have Lisa Lavender on your side." Sun grinned into Jaune's face.

"Trust an idiot not to realise when he's being threatened," Ilia snarled. To Lisa she said, "Please ignore him. He can only dedicate brain power to one thing at a time. I'm afraid his common sense has atrophied."

Lisa was still in her business suit from the day's news, and likely kept it on to welcome them. Leading them through the rather wide hall and into her living room, she gestured for them to take any of the numerous couches around a central coffee table. The back wall was glass, providing a wonderful view over Vale. The seats were comfortable and probably worth more than anything he could afford.

The whole apartment was much the same, though it had a plastic feel to it. The rugs and ornaments were all expensive and genuine, but nothing looked personal or used. It felt like one of those show homes estate agents set up, a stylised idea of what a house should be, lacking any of the personal touches the average person would make.

"Nice place you have here," Jaune said, more because he felt someone should say it.

Lisa smiled. "Thank you." Sitting down, she reached into a black, leather folder by her seat and drew out some plastic folders. Setting them on the table, she fanned them out into four separate sets. "These are the best targets I've been able to find. Each of them would be big wins for the White Fang."

"What kinds of targets?" Sun asked, suddenly much more serious. "How do you decide who gets targeted by the White Fang?"

Lisa sent Jaune a quizzical look. He shrugged and gestured for her to answer if she wanted to.

"News stories that don't add up, off-the-record interviews or embargoed information. You'd be surprised what people will say to a journalist when they're under the protection of certain laws. I think it's an arrogance thing. They like to dangle their crimes in front of your face, knowing you can't do anything with the information. Others just don't try to hide it, or it's obvious when they do. My job is to investigate these things. Only, they don't always get exposed as they should."

Sun didn't look entirely convinced. He reached over and took one of the folders. Jaune and Ilia did the same, each taking one to have a brief read over. His own featured a smiling man with overly attractive features – he looked like a film star. Flicking through, he quickly found the angle Lisa wanted. The first page was a written article, presumably one she'd made for the newspapers only to have it cancelled or pulled for whatever reason.

One of Vale's biggest movie stars apparently speaking out against anti-faunus sentiment. On second inspection it turned out the man on the picture was the one speaking out, and the villains were the directors. He'd spoken out two years ago and, if this were right, been dropped and blacklisted from every movie set in the Kingdom. Atlas and Mistral, too. Lisa had dug a little deeper and highlighted how there hadn't been a single faunus actor in any film for the last ten years. Even faunus characters in movies were apparently played by human actors.

"This one is unfair," Jaune said, "But I'm not sure if it's enough to act on."

"The movies?" Lisa asked. "Yes, I put it there, but I wasn't sure. There's certainly something going on there, but it might be hard to isolate any one person behind it."

"Mine isn't a bad one," Ilia said. Leaning over, she showed him the front page. "It's the corrupt police officer from before. There's rumours he has ties to Roman Torchwick, though anyone who tries to investigate that usually ends up losing their job quickly. Or suddenly dropping the case, quitting and moving to another city."

"Torchwick is a well-known crook, right? It could do us a lot of good if we caught him." Plus, he was an undeniable criminal. It would help sell the fact they were a force for good. "Nice. I think we've got our targ-"

"Whoah. What!?" Sun slammed his folder down. "Is this accurate!?"

"Depends," Lisa said. "Is it the fashion show?" His nod said it all. "Then yes, it's accurate. I went there myself and spoke to two of the victims last year. It's a modelling agency," Lisa explained for him and Ilia. "They're one of the biggest in Vale and outwardly, they're one of the best. Plenty of attention for larger models, no unrealistic or unhealthy girls, wide range of ages. They even hire faunus models. On paper, they look fantastic."

"But?" Jaune asked.

"But there have been… stories from some of their past models. Specifically from the faunus ones. It goes beyond low pay and poor conditions. Apparently, the owners of the agency – Rosemary and Thyme."

"Rosemary and Thyme?" Ilia had to ask.

"They were a pair of models themselves and that was their stage names. They kept them after founding `Subtle Spices Fashion `. Anyway, they've been accused of using faunus for their own advantage. The first instances were benign and honestly, I didn't think much of it. Other agencies accused them of only hiring faunus to tick boxes and because it made them look more progressive." Lisa shrugged. "I didn't think much of it. Sounded like jealous competitors, and really, what did it matter if they were hiring for the right or wrong reasons? The problem is that the rumours only got worse."

"What are we looking at now?" Jaune asked. "What's the worst thing they've done?"

Sun was the one to answer. "How about forcing young faunus into shitty contracts they can't get out of?" He held up a piece of paper, which Jaune took and let Ilia look at with him.

"I managed to get that from one of the victims," Lisa said. "It's a copy of her contract. The important parts are highlighted in yellow. Basically, they're taking a cut of royalties and image right – which is expected – but what isn't normal is that they're retaining rights after, and also including non-competition clauses that all but ruin their careers if they try to leave and find work elsewhere."

"Is this legal?" Jaune asked.

"Technically, yes, but it wouldn't stand up in court. Non-competition clauses must be limited – either by time or distance of the new company you work out. Since the agency has branches in every Kingdom, they're saying you can't work as a model for any other agency. Their period is ten years, which, I'll point out, is pretty much the lifespan of most models." Noticing their panicked expressions Lisa said, "Career lifespan. I meant the lifespan of the modelling career."

"Shitty contracts mean bad business, but it doesn't mean they're harming faunus." Ilia said that with a disgusted expression. "Even I have to admit that. Are we sure they're not just tricking gullible models into it?"

"The human contract is different," Lisa said simply. "They've also been accused of pressuring faunus into working for them. Since being a faunus model is still tough nowadays – some fashion brands refuse to let faunus model for them – there aren't a lot of options for young and upcoming faunus. They take advantage of that, trap them in contractual agreements and then force them into worse and worse shoots until they drain every drop of lien from them. Apparently, they also get quite forceful if you try and challenge them on the contract or bring in a lawyer. Two of the girls I spoke to had been threatened, and not just with legal action. To hear it from some `retired models` they like to take on, fleece and then break faunus models. Allegedly, it's because they once lost to a faunus on the catwalk. Possible motivation of vengeance, though taking it out on any and every future faunus model is a bit much."

"Well, that's enough for me." Ilia tossed the contract down. "I'm in. Jaune?"

"It sounds like a good place to take down," he agreed. "What do you say, Su-?"

"Burn it to the ground!"

"R-Right. Aren't you supposed to be keeping me less violent-? No, never mind." Wincing, he turned back to Lisa. "This definitely sounds like something we want to get involved in, but I'm not sure how we're meant to expose them. Sneaking one of us in as a modelling recruit sounds the obvious angle, but they'd have to go undercover for, like, months. Maybe even longer. Do you have any idea how we can get a jump start on it?"

Lisa's smile was far too self-satisfied. "I might have an opening for you."

/-/

In a large stately mansion turned venue on the outskirts of Vale, numerous well-dressed men and women chattered in a ballroom. Long buffet tables offered up small treats of expensive food, while staff brought out and set down chairs to either side of a long catwalk.

The signage on the walls and outside detailed the `Annual Vytal Fashion Show` - the industry's most famous event that ran coinciding with the Vytal Festival, though a month or so earlier. This year, Vale was to hold the Vytal Festival, and so too did it host the Vytal Fashion Show. Some of the most well-known fashion houses were in attendance, rubbing shoulders and networking, slyly undercutting competition, and forging contacts.

The doors to the mansion slammed open. Such was the noise that almost everyone turned to look at who would so rudely interrupt the Vytal Fashion Show. Vale's wealthiest frowned, investors and clothing brands alike stopping to sneer.

And to stare.

White. The man who sauntered in was dressed in a crisp white suit. His tight white pants clung to narrow hips leading up to a bright pink shirt open the top three buttons and showing just a little of his toned chest. The white jacket buttoned twice at the bottom had a popped collar leading up to a face obstructed by a feathery theatre mask that covered his eyes. Bright feathers in hues of green, purple, and blue fanned out in every direction, partially obscuring the man's golden hair and giving him an exotic flair.

The man was not alone. A man and a woman sashayed in beside him, both faunus. The male wore an ensemble of golden chains that linked from a necklace down over his bare, muscular chest down to a skirt of pleated leather and gold. His thick and powerful legs were clad in brown leather like some gladiator from ancient times, and he wore it well. His golden tail swung behind him, linked with little bells that chimed his every step. Blue and green makeup like paint had been drawn around his eyes, tilting up toward his ears like long, thick lashes.

On his other side, the woman bore no distinctive faunus parts but the way her skin colour would change to accentuate the silver ornaments she wore mesmerised the eye. Bedecked in feathers that reached up from her chest over her left shoulder and flaring up behind, and with a knee-length skirt of sequins that shimmered and changed colour as she did, the chameleon faunus moved with a dizzying and almost hypnotic array of colours and tones. Her bare stomach and arms, the little of her that was truly exposed, were toned and smooth, flat in a way few models could achieve.

Even then it wasn't done. A giant of a man well over seven feet tall dipped his head to fit within the door. His look was more Vacuan – like the ancient people of Vacuo, his skin was tanned and bunched with muscle, and bold black lines had been inked all over his body to create spiral patterns linking to his tight black pants. When he moved, every one of his muscles bulged, making the patterns stand out and stretch.

A bat faunus came next, topless but for black leather pants and embracing the devilish theme. His wings were spread, silver links of fine chains strung between them and stretched out like jewellery. He turned and presented his muscled back to them, stretching his wings apart and causing the finery dangling from each link to tinkle like wind chimes. Leather straps criss-crossed over his chest, entwined with red roses and dangling silver chains.

The last female faunus clung to the apparent leader's arm, her black dress sparkling and hugging her slim hips. Her silver hair – natural, it seemed, despite being young – fell to her shoulders, framing a soft and pretty face. Behind them both, a single bodyguard in a full black suit and black shades moved in, his beard bristling as he scanned the crowd.

As if unbothered by the attention and the grand scene they'd caused, the masked man in white helped himself to a flute of champagne from a passing water, handing it to his beau before taking one for himself. His models arrayed themselves, faunus bristling with animalistic power and might, muscles stretched and faunus features on full display.

Jaune felt ridiculous.

He looked it too – but he had a feeling no one was going to be sympathetic about that when they were all scantily clad in the most bizarre outfits he'd ever seen. Yuma looked like a stripper. Sun was bedecked in gold. Ironically, Ilia was the most conservatively dressed of all of them, and yet she was still sending him constantly angry looks.

It wasn't his fault fashion shows were weird.

Trifa tightened her arm around his hip to warn him of someone approaching. A man in a black suit with a clipboard and a strained smile. Jaune watched him through his overly feathery and sequin covered mask. It was a ridiculous thing that should have made him suspicious from moment one, but since Jaune Arc, terrorist leader, went around without a mask, wearing one here for some reason made him look less suspicious.

"Lisa should have you in the competition." Deery's voice came through the earpiece he had under his mask. She and Perry were running communications from outside, allowing them to pass messages between one another even from different rooms. Lisa would also be remotely involved, but more to record and pick through what she heard through their cleverly hidden microphones.

Tukson stepped forward like the burly bodyguard he was disguise as, holding a hand over Jaune's chest as though to ward off an undesirable. The man paused out of range, bowing respectfully. It was hard not to notice how many people were staring at them.

"Excuse me, sir," the man said politely. "Might I have your name and the name of your fashion house? I'm afraid this is a very exclusive competition…"

"Ivory Tooth Studios," Tukson grunted. "We're on the list."

"Ivory Tooth. I've never heard – oh, you're here." The man looked downright apologetic as he looked back up, tapping his finger on the paper. "I am sorry about that. Please, welcome. Would you like to have someone show your models backstage, Mr…? I'm afraid there wasn't a name provided for the fashionista in charge of Ivory Tooth."

"Lavender must have left it blank for you to use your own," Deery said.

"No. Use a fake. Something that can't be traced to Jaune Arc." Perry cut in quickly.

"Fashion people all have weird names, don't they? Wealthy rich people names, or stage names. Something to make you stand out."

"The weirder the better," Perry agreed.

Considering Rosemary and Thyme were a thing, Jaune supposed they had a point. Smiling in what he hoped was a roguish manner to the man with the clipboard and pen waiting, he said, "My name is Vivian. Vivian von valk volkvan. You may call me… V. Or V.V. Or even V.V.V.V."

Trifa cringed.

"Edgy. Mysterious." Perry said. "I like it."

"Honestly, it's not as bad as some of the names I'm seeing on the guest list. Who the hell is Lady Goo Goo…?"

"V-Vivian Van Von…? Von-van. I mean Volk Von...?" The clerk struggled with the name. "I… I shall just put Vivian down if that's okay?" Turning, he clicked his fingers. "Almond. Please come show Mr Vivian's models backstage. Thank you. Mr Vivian," he said, again to Jaune, "Please enjoy the welcoming party. The fashion show will begin soon after."

"Thank you."

Jaune took Trifa in hand and led her toward the ballroom while Sun, Ilia, Bane and Yuma were taken backstage. They'd be able to find and talk with the faunus models there, maybe even the human ones too to make sure this didn't go further than just them. That wasn't their only goal today, though.

"Lisa said our best bet is if we can convince Subtle Spice to approach one of our models and try to poach them," Deery said into his ear. Trifa leaned her head on his shoulder both in a romantic gesture and to listen in. "That means Ilia or one of the guys will have to impress them."

"Shouldn't be a problem," he mumbled. "They're all striking enough."

"No, it's not that easy. This is a fashion show. The models are one thing but they're just the canvass. If we want Rosemary or Thyme to try and poach one of them away, they'll need to stand out."

"Which means they need to kill this show," Perry said. "Or more specifically, you need to kill it."

Somehow, he didn't think they meant the murder variety of killing, which, for once, he wouldn't have been against. "I don't know anything about fashion," he whispered. "I wear jeans and a hoodie everywhere. I am literally the worst person at fashion you could ever find."

"Relax. Have you ever seen a fashion show? Trust me. It's anything but normal fashion."

"Easy for them to say," Trifa whispered to him.

"Yeah. So, we not only need to fit in but win this thing?"

"Winning isn't necessary. Only doing well. Well enough to draw their attention."

That was just as bad when he had no idea what he was doing. And for once, the voice in his head couldn't help – not unless Adam Taurus had a hitherto undiscovered passion for fashion. He doubted it. Edgy, black and red didn't look like it was in style.

"We figured out a way to get the new recruits involved in this as well," Perry said. "It might even help you with the fashion part. They're all on laptops here scouring through the latest fashion mags, shows and trends. They'll be uploading details to your scrolls as they find them."

"Hey. That's not so bad." It'd help him with ideas, give them something to do, keep them out of trouble and let them get a taste for such valuable skills as information gathering and strategic communication. "Nice job, Perry." He saw a few people approaching. "Going silent. Wish us luck."

"Nah boss, you got this."

He really didn't.

/-/

"That's ilia."

Yang stared at the screen, leaning in to stare at the brief glimpse the cameras caught of a girl in a dress made up of feathers and sparkling light. There wasn't much she could pick out, but Blake apparently worked and lived with the girl for years before now.

"You're sure?" Yang asked. "Absolutely positive? This isn't something we can afford to mess up."

"I wouldn't say it was her otherwise. I'd recognise that face anywhere. The others – I don't know them by name, but that big guy looks like the one that nearly caught Weiss on the docks. Wasn't there one with bat wings as well?"

"There was," Weiss said. "I didn't want to assume based on height or just the fact he had wings. That felt racist even to me."

"It's definitely them," Blake said. "It's the White Fang."

"And why would the White Fang be infiltrating a fashion show…?"

"Hostages. Publicity."

"Not the old White Fang, Blake. This one."

"They're both the same! Jaune Arc is just biding his time." Blake gnashed her teeth. "We should strike while they're distracted and before they can do anything. They'll never see us coming."

"We can't," Ruby said simply.

"What? Why? Ruby, you can't be thinking of letting them get away-"

"I'm not."

"Then why…?"

"Because it's a fashion show." Ruby said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. It wasn't at first, but that soon changed when she added, "And Coco Adel is in charge of us."

Weiss, Blake, and Yang paused to think. Yang wasn't sure if they literally had the same image in their head, but her own of Coco roasting the four of them over an open fire for interrupting the biggest fashion event of her year was probably unanimous enough.

"Coco will kill us…"

"Quite literally," Weiss said. "I think it'd be safer to shave Yang bald."

For once, Yang let that go. Weiss wasn't wrong. If they so much as disturbed the event, Coco was going to go nuts. Heck, she was probably glued to her screen right now popping popcorn. It wouldn't surprise her if she'd called in sick to class so she could lock herself away and watch it all.

"I've texted her," Blake said.

Ruby fell off her bed. "YOU DID WHAT!?"

"I texted Coco." Blake held up her scroll. "What? You're right. Going in on our own would make her furious, and she can make our lives miserable. I told her what we found instead. I figure she'd jump at the chance to attend this in person, even if it's as a huntress-" Blake was cut off by Ruby's hands on her collar, shaking her like a rag doll.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?" the normally sweet huntress screeched. "YOU'VE DOOMED US ALL!"

"W-W-What?" Blake stammered as she was shaken back and forth. "H-How have I…?"

"COCO. FASHION SHOW." Ruby whimpered. "US!"

"Us? Us what…?"

The door slammed inward. Coco stood in the entryway, foot extended, eyes burning, teeth shining like a neutron star. "Ladies!" she all but squealed. Squealed! "It has come to my attention that we need to infiltrate the Vytal Fashion Show. Also, Blake, I take back everything, you are my favourite Team RWBY member."

Ruby whimpered and tried to hide under her bed.

Blake looked confused. "Thank you…? So, are we going in to bust them?"

"Heck no! This is a publicity drive. We can't arrest them unless they do something wrong." Coco's eyes flashed dangerously. "We're going to enter the competition. Or more specifically, you four are. I just got permission from Ozpin to slot us in. He's pulling a favour right this moment." Coco grinned and planted her hands on her hips. "Say hello to Adel Studios - promoting the latest fashions on Beacon's very own Team RWBY!"

"You're dead to me, Blake. Dead!" Ruby cried out weakly.

Yang sighed. Weiss placed both hands over her face. Blake, finally realising Ruby's fears, could only wince.

"Oh. Oops?"

That fashion scene was one of those things that's super easy to do in a screen show but super hard in text. In a show I could literally just have Lisa end one scene and the next start with Jaune and the White Fang bursting slow motion into a fashion show, all garishly dressed and acting stupidly, popping collars, dancing provocatively, and striking crazy poses.

In text, I had to spend time writing each individual character's outfit out, which stretched the scene on and lessened the punchiness of it.

I also am never one to suggest OST or music to scenes in my works (I find it a little immersion breaking when people do) but I was definitely imagining the "ayayayaya" music from Jojo's bizarre adventure for that moment (Pillar men, I think). I even tried to dress Sun, Yuma and Bane like it, but obviously couldn't use words like "Egyptian themed" because Egypt shouldn't exist in Remnant.

And yes, it's a fashion off. Team RWBY vs White Fang. Who will be the Kings or Queens of the catwalk? Faunus vs Huntsmen on the only stage that matters.

Next Chapter: 21st July

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