Ozpin led him through the door immediately in front of him, which opened into a large space that seemed to be a combination of living room, study, and parlor, while the central supports for the Tower and walls of the elevator shaft itself acted as dividing walls for different parts of the living space. There was a door to his left that Oscar knew lead into Ozpin's room, and he knew there would be another door to the left of that space leading into the bathroom. Continuing in the same direction would be a slightly smaller room that was designed to be multi-purposed, depending on the needs of the Headmaster in residence at any given time. Beyond that smaller room – which Oscar was fairly sure was going to be his – was another room that served as storage and laundry, before finally coming around full circle to the kitchen, which could also be reached from where he stood through the door to his right. Each room had a corresponding door off of that small circular hallway as well.
The rooms were wedge-shaped to account for the central elevator shaft and the small central hallway, but one really had to be paying attention to realize that fact. The exterior walls were windows all around the entire apartment, with thick green curtains, as well as golden sheers that could be drawn for privacy and temperature control beyond what the Dust that fueled the building's generator could do. Ozpin could open the curtains for light, but if it got too hot, the sheers could be pulled closed to cast the apartment into shadow and allow it to cool. This high up – higher than any tree on campus – the apartment would be filled with both light and warmth if all of the curtains were opened at the same time.
Most of the furniture seemed to be made of a golden oak, upholstered in dark greens with throw pillows, rugs, and blankets of differing shades of brown and cream. In the sitting room, the walls formed by the Tower's supports were lined with bookshelves filled with books. Other than a single book left on a side table near one of the armchairs, the room was spotless.
Oscar took a few steps into the living area, still looking around with that feeling of familiarity. "Is it weird that I feel like if you asked me to find any item in here, I could probably lay my hands on it within a minute or two at most?"
Ozpin chuckled softly. "No. I've lived in these rooms for almost twenty years, so it doesn't surprise me that my habits and preferences might have imprinted themselves on you back in your own time." A nearby grandfather clock chimed as he spoke, and he sighed before placing the bag with the oxygen tank down near the door. "I hate to have to drop you off," he said reluctantly, "but I do need to get up to my office for the Council meeting. Do you think you can find your room and get settled in, or should I send Glynda to help? I don't want you to over-exert yourself."
"I'll be okay, I think," Oscar said. "I get the spare room, right? The one on the opposite side of the bathroom from yours?"
Ozpin nodded. "Yes. I had some of the furniture brought up earlier this week from an unused student dorm room, so you'll find a bed, a dresser, a desk, a small bookshelf, and a nightstand in there. The sheets and blankets are just the ones standard-issued to the students, but when we go into town to get the things you'll need, we can look at getting something different if you don't like the color."
"I don't need much," Oscar started. "I'm sure whatever's there will be fine –"
Ozpin shook his head. "Oscar, I don't want you to think of yourself as a guest. Since we don't know for sure what brought you here, or if you'll be going back to where – or when – you came from, that will be your room until something happens one way or the other, so I want you to be comfortable." He turned and headed back towards the elevator. "Don't feel like you need to wait up if you get tired," he added. "I don't know how long the meeting will take, so make yourself comfortable."
"Okay," Oscar replied. "I think I can manage that."
Ozpin shot him a quick smile as the elevator door closed, leaving Oscar standing in the living area, looking around while his emotions and memories waged a brief but internal war with the lingering emotions and memories he had inherited from Oz. After a moment, he moved over to where Ozpin had left the bag he'd been carrying and picked it up, experimentally. It was heavy, but not impossibly so. Oscar was used to carrying heavy things from working on the farm, and it wasn't like he had to go far.
He followed the small hallway around until he reached the door that should lead into his room, if Oz's memories weren't failing him. He reached out and grasped the doorknob, then hesitated. This felt like intruding in a way, even though Ozpin had said this was his room. Oscar bit his lip and forced the feelings down before twisting the knob and pushing the door open.
The bedroom was the same wedge shape as the rest of the rooms – narrow near the hallway and widening the further he went into the room. The same green curtains and golden sheers hung in front of the window. The bed was a slightly darker oak than what was in the main living area – more of a medium oak than the golden oak. The sheets were white and there was a red blanket and two feather pillows with white cases at the head of the bed. A matching nightstand was to the right of the bed, with a lamp positioned on top of it, a dresser with attached mirror across the room from the bed, and a bookshelf and desk positioned in front of the curved part of the wall. The desk chair was a basic wooden rolling chair with a red cushion and slatted back, and there was another small lamp with a pull chain on the top of the desk.
Once again, everything was clean and spotless, just shy of being sterile. It felt impersonal, and Oscar understood what Ozpin had meant. If he was staying here for any length of time, it would start to feel uncomfortable if he didn't get a chance to put his own touches on it. Obviously, the students got to decorate their dorms as they saw fit, so why shouldn't Oscar?
He set the bag with the oxygen tank down near the door for the time being, before moving further into the room. He placed the bag he was carrying on the bed, and began pulling out his belts and pouches, opening each pouch and pulling out the contents for the time being. His Lien went into one of the drawers on the nightstand, his tool kit for Long Memory into the top dresser drawer, and the other trinkets he'd accumulated arranged on top of various surfaces to try to make the room feel a little more like Oscar's and less like a guest room.
It didn't really work, Oscar decided as he hung his belts up on a hook in the closet after inspecting them for damage. The room was still barren, without any real personality to it. Even his room at his aunt's house – simple as it had been, being tucked under the eaves in the attic – had Oscar's stamp on it. The thick red quilt with the gold diamond pattern on it folded at the end of the bed over the cream blanket and white sheets, the old round rug with its red, gold, and blue floral pattern that he had rescued from his aunt after she mentioned wanting to throw it out, the low bookshelf stuffed full of books that served as a nightstand in front of his one window…
Even the wooden paneling on the walls – pieced together from old scraps used in the rest of the house when his aunt had been preparing for Oscar to come and live with her after his parents died. The room had been too small for a closet, so Oscar's few outfits had been hung on pegs on the wall, his boots for summer or winter lined up neatly beside the door, while a battered wooden chest held the few possessions he'd been able to salvage from his parents' house but didn't have the space to put up in his new room. All of those little details had given the room character that this room didn't have yet, and Oscar missed it.
Not knowing what else to do, he moved back into the hallway. He peered into the bathroom, seeing a shower and a tub, a full-length mirror in an ornate golden oak frame, and a sink with a brass faucet and taps and surmising that the toilet was behind the low partition at the far side of the room. The floor was a dark grey slate, rather than the wooden boards he knew were in the rest of the apartment.
He bypassed Ozpin's room – not wanting to intrude on the Headmaster's personal space – and the living room for the moment, wanting to take a look at the kitchen and utility room. The kitchen had the same golden oak for cabinets, with black granite countertops. The cooktop was powered by fire Dust to create the cooking flame, while the oven and other appliances drew power through the Tower's electric system, which Oscar knew – thanks to Oz's memories – was powered by lightning Dust.
Feeling a little like he was prying, Oscar poked around in the pantry and found that it was stocked with essentials, but from what he remembered, Ozpin wasn't much more than a plain cook who preferred to handle basic recipes only. There were enough staple ingredients that it wouldn't have been too difficult for him to come up with dinner for himself and leave leftovers for Ozpin for after his meeting ended, but Oscar decided not to invade the kitchen just yet. Ozpin had indicated that he would ask Glynda to bring something up, and that was as good a source of dinner as anything else.
The utility room had a washing machine and a dryer, along with an ironing board built into one wall, and a fold-down drying rack mounted to the opposite wall for those things – like Ozpin's suits, most likely – that couldn't be put through the machine. There were a few boxes stacked and labeled neatly on the opposite side of the room, but Oscar didn't bother to investigate any further.
He returned to the living area, looking around and feeling a little lost. So this was going to be his new home for… who knew how long? It was different from anywhere he'd ever lived before. Everything was more elegant and high-end than back on the farm, but simple in its elegance at the same time. The house at Mistral – one of Oz's safe houses, in fact – had been elegant in the way that was classically Mistral – artistic, with lots of wood and designs drawn from nature. Atlas Academy had been militaristic and sterile with a pallet of blue, grey, and white that always made the rooms feel colder than they probably were.
His eyes fell on the bookshelves, and he felt his fingers itch. The books Ozpin had brought him during the week had done a lot to alleviate the boredom, and he really didn't have anything else to do at the moment. He crossed the living area to the closest shelf and began scanning the titles, waiting for one to catch his eye.
Ozpin's Office…
Glynda was waiting for Ozpin again. He crossed from the elevator to his desk and claimed his seat, accessing his terminal and beginning to pull up the proposals the Council would be addressing shortly. "How did it go?"
"It took a few minutes to settle them down – they had questions, as you anticipated, but they settled down readily enough once I told them it was a personal matter," Glynda said. "Otherwise it went well. I collected their essays," she indicated the new folder on the corner of his desk, near his left hand. "We reviewed the discussion last week and I used your notes to plant a few more seeds about ulterior motivations and how it can relate not only to the reason behind why a story was written, but about the purpose of the characters and the plot."
"Good," Ozpin said. "I'll continue that discussion with them next week, and then we can move on to the comparisons that I wanted to go over in their essays. That will give me a chance to read what they came up with."
"How's Oscar?" Glynda asked.
"I think the walk from the ferry docks to the Tower tired him out more than he's admitting to," Ozpin replied. "I wish I could be down there getting him settled in, but this takes precedence. If you could bring him up a tray from the dining hall later, I would appreciate it. I plan to take him out tomorrow morning to get him anything he'll need, and then after lunch Qrow should be coming back from Patch for the meeting we need to have."
"With James, Theodore, and Leonardo as well?" Glynda asked.
"No. Just you, Qrow, Oscar, and I for now," Ozpin said. "For now I want to keep the circle of information small. Beacon is likely to be the first target from what Oscar has already said, and I want to know as much as possible about what to expect from that before we start worrying about the other Academies."
Glynda nodded as Ozpin's terminal beeped, signaling an incoming call. She gave him an ironic little smile. "I'll leave you to it, and I'll go check in on Oscar for you."
"Thank you, Glynda," he said softly as he accepted the call. She turned and left with the familiar clicking of her heels on the glass floor as he turned his attention to his screen. "Councilwoman Richards, Councilman Thyme, Councilman Russet, good afternoon."
"Professor Ozpin," the only woman on the Council replied. "It's good to see you again."
"And you," Ozpin replied. "Before we begin with the agenda for today, I would like to address one matter."
"Of course," Councilwoman Ginger Richards was – other than Ozpin – the most senior member of the Council, beginning her final three-year term. Councilman Russet had just been re-elected for his second term, and Councilman Mortimer Thyme was the newest member, having replaced a departing councilwoman who had reached her term limit. Ozpin was not the head of the Council, however – that was too much power to place in one person, so the head of the Council was always the member who had been on the Council for the longest but wasn't the Headmaster.
Ozpin steepled his fingers and arranged the wording in his head before he spoke, keeping his tone neutral and his words unaccusatory. "I am aware that having an earlier session is beneficial to all of you – you have families to return to and it is a Friday. However, changing our meeting time today was most inconvenient for me. I have responsibilities to Beacon beyond my responsibilities to the Council. Today, for instance, is one of the days when I teach my first-year students. On any other week, my class would have ended just before this meeting, which means I would have had no time to return to my office and prepare the necessary materials for the proposals we'll be considering today."
The Councilwoman frowned slightly. "I am sorry to hear that we inconvenienced you, Professor. We weren't made aware of any scheduling conflicts."
"The Council meeting times normally don't conflict with my other responsibilities," Ozpin assured her. "They were set at that time for that reason. Today it was particularly inconvenient, as I had made arrangements last week to handle a personal matter in town after my class, and I was forced to ask Professor Goodwitch to cover my class for me today so that I could reschedule my meeting in town for earlier this afternoon."
"I see. We'll make sure that this doesn't happen again. Do we need to push the meeting today back to its normal time?"
Ozpin shook his head. "No, we're already assembled, and I was able to work the matter out. However, our future meetings should return to their normally scheduled times." He made a point not to look directly at Russet, who was scowling. Ozpin was certain that Russet was the one behind the change in meeting times, but he didn't plan to call the other man out on it – this time. "That was all I needed to say." He settled back in his seat, wishing for a mug of cocoa, but he hadn't had time to prepare one, so he would need to do without this time.
"Thank you for the courtesy, Professor. We will return to our regular schedule for our next meeting. If anyone has a conflict with that, please make sure to bring it up before the day of the meeting so that we can all make arrangements for a time to meet." The Councilwoman's no-nonsense acceptance of his subtle rebuke satisfied any irritation he still felt towards Russet. "Now then, the first item on the agenda for today is old business, and relates to you, Professor – have there been any updates on the reports of increased Grimm attacks on the outlying villages?"
White Fang Encampment…
Blake slipped into the command tent with Ilia right behind her. Adam had pulled out the maps of the refinery that had been sent to them by Sienna, via an informant who worked in that refinery. His scroll was connected to a video call with Sienna and was projecting above the planning table. She moved to stand behind Adam's right shoulder, while Ilia took a place on Adam's left.
"Blake. Ilia. Good, I'm glad you're here," Sienna said. Her expression was one of grim pleasure as she noticed their arrival. "The two of you are excellent at infiltration, from what Adam has told me in his reports, and that is going to be beneficial for this next mission."
"What's going on?" Blake asked, seeing Adam's mouth turned upward in a satisfied smile.
"My informant at the SDC refinery just reached out and let me know that Jacques Schnee is expected to be making a tour of the refinery next month. The overseers are already working to make sure that everything is running smoothly, so they can present the best appearance when he arrives to make his inspection," Sienna said. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you what an opportunity this gives us."
Blake felt a thrill of anticipation, despite some of her misgivings from earlier. Jacques Schnee. The man who was, in many respects, single-handedly responsible for a lot of the prejudice and suffering that the Faunus were still experiencing, especially in Atlas. His treatment of his workers – both in the mines and the ones he hired to serve at social gatherings – was openly condemned by the Faunus, especially the Atlas branch of the Fang.
"Although the plan was to hit the refinery next week, I think it will be better to wait and strike during Schnee's visit," Sienna was saying.
"If we could detain him, maybe even take him with us…" Ilia breathed.
"We could make lasting change," Adam said, his tone full of anticipation. "We can ransom his safe return for changes to the way Faunus are treated in the mines, use his capitulation to our demands to seek changes across all four Kingdoms."
It was a real plan – not just protests and trying to make their plight known via the CCTS and the news stations in the four Kingdoms. It wasn't enough to simply hijack valuable Dust shipments in an effort to cost the SDC and other companies enough money to force them to the bargaining table. Those actions had weight, but not a significant impact when taken across everything happening to the Faunus across all four Kingdoms. With Menagerie generally remaining pacifistic under her parents' leadership, tacitly condoning the things the White Fang was actively doing, they had a real opportunity.
"We'll need to be careful though," Blake found herself saying. "We need as much information about the refinery, the security protocols, and Schnee's schedule as we can get. As soon as it becomes known that we're there, security will collapse in around him and they'll try to evacuate him before we can reach him. If we fail to leave with Schnee in our hands, it will only make things worse – the retaliation against the Faunus workers will be immense."
"That's why we won't leave without him," Adam said with determination.
"Agreed. My informant is going to keep sending my information over the next month in preparation," Sienna said. "I've already got others in place to make sure we have a full layout of the refinery, and I'd like the three of you to come back to Mistral. We've managed to locate some space to construct a mock-up of the refinery, so we can run through our plan and rehearse for this mission as details come in."
"We'll leave tonight," Adam said.
"Good. I'll send you the coordinates where we've moved our camp to," Sienna said. "I'll be coming with you on this mission, and I'm already working on assembling the rest of our team. Blake, you and Ilia will be instrumental in disabling the security systems and making sure we have eyes on Schnee at all times when the day comes."
Blake nodded. This was something she could do and do well. This was the sort of thing she had trained for, and she was going to do her people proud. "Absolutely."
"Yes," Ilia agreed. "We can do that."
"Excellent. I'm glad you're willing to assist us with this," Sienna replied. "Make sure your camp is set up to manage themselves while you're gone. I want them to lay low until this is over and we have Schnee."
"At your command, High Leader," Adam said, placing a fist over his heart and bowing his head as Sienna's image flickered and faded. He looked at the two of them. "We have work to do."