Egrer stared at the club building in bewilderment.
The beautiful, pretentious structure sandwiched between the cafeteria and the academy's east wing was no different in its pretentiousness and beauty from dozens of other buildings at Beacon.
Except maybe it was a little bigger and had an astronomy tower, but fundamentally, nothing new.
It had everything: hockey, Tetris, board games, gardening, volleyball, a computer lab. It lacked only one thing—a music club. And that put him in a bit of a stupor.
The future great musician asked the upperclassmen about this weird fact, but didn't learn anything specific.
Everyone he asked acted extremely weird and unhinged: they shot him terrified looks, glanced over their shoulders, ran away, or told him to drop the subject.
Once, someone even screamed and passed out.
Egrer screamed in terror himself that time, because absolutely nothing had provoked such an abnormal reaction.
For some inexplicable reason, the entirety of Beacon shuddered at the mere mention of the words "Music club."
In search of answers, Egrer couldn't think of anything safer than taking this question straight to Ms. Goodwitch's office.
"Why isn't there a music club at Beacon?" he deliberately dropped those two words that were tacitly banned by the whole world. Just to see the reaction of the Iron Lady herself, whose reputation was clearly way more terrifying than some random academy ghost story.
Glynda Goodwitch, the strictest person in all of Remnant, the unwavering and disciplined Deputy Headmistress of a Huntsman academy, flinched.
Egrer obediently waited for an answer, sitting in the chair across from her paper-cluttered desk. He never got one; her entire demeanor made it crystal clear that he'd better walk out of this office and never come back. But he defiantly started examining his surroundings.
His gaze lazily swept past a beautiful tea set by the window, reflecting the light so harshly it was blinding. Next, Egrer looked at a painting of the Emerald Forest in winter, beneath which sat a closed velvet box tied with a bow. Crossed swords hung near the ceiling, not high enough to get lost, but low enough to be noticed. They had clearly seen battle more than once, but it was highly unlikely Ms. Goodwitch had used them herself.
This office was full of warm memories that its owner cherished. Surely every item here had a story behind it.
Instead of the ticking of a clock, like the Headmaster had, a metronome ticked here.
Tick – long pause – Tock
Tick – long pause – Tock
Before Egrer came in, the rhythm had been much faster, but upon hearing his question, Ms. Goodwitch had slid the weight higher. Maybe to calm herself down, or maybe it was some kind of ritual. But without a doubt, those two terrifying words triggered the same feelings in her as they did in the upperclassmen, except she had the backbone not to run away screaming.
Finally, she realized that if she kept ignoring Egrer, he wouldn't leave.
"The music club," the Iron Lady felt a shiver simply uttering those words, "was banned six years ago."
"What do you mean, banned?" Banning a hobby at Beacon, a Huntsman academy? And such a popular one at that?
"It is a long story, Mr. Peleni. I can only assure you that no arguments or pleas from you will alter this fact."
"But at least tell me why..."
"Make it quick, I still have a lot of work to do," the Deputy Headmistress sighed. It was clear as day that these memories gave her a massive headache. "The music club had two warring factions: one liked jazz, and the other liked rock. After the graduation of their president, who had maintained neutrality, a power struggle began." She pursed her lips and wiped her glasses with a cloth. "The conflict often erupted into brawls outside and even in the classrooms. The Headmaster decided to hold a musical, as he put it at the time, 'Battle,' and let a student vote decide which faction would take the helm of the club. The duel was held at the base of the Headmaster's tower, with all of Beacon in attendance."
Ms. Goodwitch trailed off and wiped her glasses again. And then again. And she kept doing it until the lenses became practically invisible.
Tick – long pause – Tock
"The rockers couldn't think of anything more original than buying several tons of pyrotechnics and blowing up the Headmaster's tower."
"They d-did what?.." Egrer barely managed to squeeze out.
"They blew up the Headmaster's tower," Ms. Goodwitch repeated. "Most likely by accident, but that doesn't diminish the scale of the destruction. It was fortunate that the Headmaster himself was among the students and remained unharmed. And it was doubly fortunate that the tower fell into the pond, and not onto the dormitories or the crowd."
"Talk about blowing the roof off the place." Egrer chuckled nervously, trying to make a joke. She did not appreciate the pun.
"And now, Mr. Peleni, name your favorite music genre." He felt that answering was absolutely out of the question, but her fingers, tapping expectantly in time with the metronome, wouldn't let him stay silent or lie. That patient tapping made his soul drop into his shoes.
"Rock, ma'am."
"Then I believe this conversation is over."
"B-But I'm a normal rocker! Not the kind who just mindlessly screams into a microphone or violates severed pig heads on stage, I even wear a suit!"
"The conversation is over," Ms. Goodwitch stamped, slapping her palm on the desk. Not too hard, but after a gesture like that, only a fool or someone with a death wish would dare stay in the same room as her. Mumbling a hasty goodbye, he left.
Plopping down on a bench outside, Egrer began to drill the club building with a hateful glare. He was going through withdrawals. He desperately wanted to play his Baby and sing songs, but without a club, gathering any sort of audience would be tough, let alone on a proper stage.
It hadn't been like this before. Prior to Junior's club, which provided him with at least some kind of audience, he could go months without even touching his guitar. But now, after playing solely for himself for gods know how long, a new need had taken root inside him—the need to be heard. Once upon a time, his own pack had been enough, but now...
This need had become like food and sleep; if it wasn't satisfied, only death awaited. He needed someone to listen, admire, criticize, judge. At the nightclub, the Malachite sisters had filled that role; Egrer had caught their every word and taken even their jokes seriously. But now there was no one to do that. It was like that philosophical question: "If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?"
Do I even exist if no one hears me?
He had never pondered such things before. He wanted to answer, "Yes, I exist, I can see and hear myself," but for some reason, he couldn't. Probably because the new Egrer couldn't live if he wasn't seen and heard by those around him—and not just his body, but his soul, not his everyday speech, but his songs. If he was insignificant and invisible, then he might as well not exist at all.
"Man, I've hit rock bottom with an existential crisis," Egrer chuckled mirthlessly, chasing the heavy thoughts out of his head. But they had already put down deep roots in his mind and would never truly leave. Sooner or later he'd return to this question, and in the meantime, it was better to satiate this all-consuming need.
Egrer pulled a notebook from his inner pocket. Running his hand over the cover and sighing heavily, he opened it to the pencil-bookmark, where a list of his goals was displayed. Next to most of them sat a fat checkmark, and there were only six tasks left to do before reaching the circled word "Fame." A very small number compared to the one hundred and three he had already completed, but even so, the appearance of a new one pissed him off.
"Reorganize the music club," the future great musician penciled in between the lines, his illustrious career having just become a bit harder to achieve. "And how do I pull that off?"
He couldn't do anything alone. He needed to find others dissatisfied with this ban, unite them, and put pressure on the Headmaster. But people were scared to even talk about the music club here, despite the fact that all its members had graduated a long time ago. Nobody really needed it; whoever wanted to play just played alone—it wasn't the music itself that got banned. So it turned out he had to figure out what other problems the students were facing, gather them all into one fist, and strike at the Headmaster.
But what problems actually existed at Beacon? Some came to mind immediately, like the bullies, while others required asking the upperclassmen at length. They were more than happy to help the younger generation, though most were just venting their pent-up frustrations.
"The grub here has seriously downgraded, Tarzan," a third-year with blue dreadlocks shared. As it turned out, the nickname "Tarzan" had firmly stuck to Egrer among the upperclassmen. When asked where he could find Hat so he could kick his ass, the guy just laughed. "Better not touch him, or he'll straight-up dub you Inmate, and we'll all catch on. He's got a monopoly on handing out nicknames, so whatever he calls you, that's what you are."
Right, I got distracted. Thanking him for the intel, Egrer moved on.
"The Headmaster hired a bunch of total nutjobs as teachers," the next student recounted. His weapon was a bicycle with spiked wheels, which he was currently riding across the lawn. Who was the real nutjob here, one had to wonder. "I mean, have you seen Port? Now speed him up a hundred times, swap the 'Oh, back in my youth!' record for something historical, and you get Oobleck. Our PE teacher is literally schizo, no joke, and you haven't even seen our Health and Safety teacher yet—she's the one who really needs meds. And also..."
Egrer wrote it all down, but didn't hear any worthwhile grievances from him.
"I am troubled by an omen dire," a curly-haired fourth-year with bushy sideburns began speaking in verse. "With what languid, twisted fire
Do they torment us students here!
In times gone by, I could, I swear,
Having dined well in the hall,
Slap a yawning fool and watch him fall!
Now it's banned,
And for that I wither, turning bland."
Nothing worthwhile here either. Egrer went off to search further.
"Man, you ask some heavy questions, Tarzan. But honestly, it pisses me off how many bullies are breeding around here." A stylish student, who had modified her school uniform so heavily it wasn't even a uniform anymore, waved her hands. She was only a second-year, but she had a few grievances of her own. "The cult of strength makes sense, we're all basically elite soldiers here, but you don't have to be a total asshole because of it! I've got a girl on my team, Velvet, super sweet and shy, a Faunus with cute little bunny ears, and almost every scumbag in the academy picks on her. Even Meathead, and he's just a first-year!"
"Who's Meathead?" he inquired.
"Cardin's nickname." Actually, that fits him perfectly. "I'd put him in a hospital bed myself, but then I'd be throwing Vel under the bus. Everyone would think she's a weakling if she can't even put the first-years in their place herself."
No matter how you looked at it, students mostly complained about basic problems like the teachers, bad food, tons of homework, and other bullshit that no one would ever bother fixing. Because if they hired teachers who satisfied the malcontents, they could kiss a normal education goodbye. The same went for the homework. As for the food, Egrer just didn't get it—it was free, which completely negated any and all downsides. What were these picky eaters complaining about?
Aside from the bullies, there were no real problems at Beacon. That was, in principle, a good thing, but not for Egrer in his current predicament, because he somehow needed to incite the disgruntled masses to riot! And nobody was going to seriously fight for a reduction in homework. Unless he needed to slightly exaggerate the scale of the problems, run a massive agitation campaign...
A lightning bolt flashed through Egrer's head, an electrical impulse that birthed an idea as genius in its simplicity as it was in its effectiveness. He needed to assemble the Order today.
***
To make the conversation easier to start, Egrer brought a thermos of tea and a pack of cookies. After all, if he just said, "Hey, on top of changing our leaders, let's also bring back the music club!" he'd earn himself glares of hostility and judgment. It shouldn't be forgotten that Weiss and Nora had zero interest in the matter, and they wouldn't help in the slightest. But Egrer couldn't handle this task alone, so he resorted to trickery.
Gathering in the same empty classroom, with the same roster, and even at the same time, the Private and the Vice-President awaited their leader's word.
"I welcome you to the fourth meeting of the Order of the Seat-Snatchers," Egrer greeted them, thumping his palm against his chest. His voice deepened, taking on a solemn tone. "Those blinded by facts shall not see the truth."
"Laws stem not from God, but from common sense," Weiss and Nora echoed, mirroring the chest thump.
In the time the Order had been operating, they had managed to form a few traditions. This specific one was born from Nora's suggestion to create their own language so they could discuss their secret affairs right in the middle of a crowd. They honestly tried to implement that idea, but eventually, it had to be simplified down to code phrases, and then it degraded even further, turning into a simple greeting.
On that day, Nora displayed an extraordinary flight of fancy. For instance, the phrase "Those blinded by facts shall not see the truth" signified their irreconcilable fight against the system and the rejection of accepted societal norms—one of which being obedience to the Headmaster as the undisputed leader. And the continuation, "Laws stem not from God, but from common sense," meant that Ozpin's laws should hold no power if common sense, represented by their Order, disagreed with them, and that this very common sense should reign supreme in society.
Egrer and Weiss were amazed by the depth of Nora's thoughts; they certainly hadn't expected that from her.
She came up with a bunch of other stuff that secret societies are famous for: identifying marks (in their case, keychains), a special handshake, and even a code of laws proudly dubbed the "Codex of the Seat-Snatchers." So far it wasn't particularly long, and rules were added on an as-needed basis, but even so, it was a massive step forward.
True, Weiss noted that copying secret orders that, for some reason, everyone knows about wasn't the best idea. But since they didn't have an example of a *truly* secret order to look at (what a shocker), their choices were limited. After a brief debate and a vote, it was decided to stay the course.
"Friends, we need to expand our scope of operations," the Supreme Chairman began to broadcast. "There are many students at Beacon dissatisfied with Ozpin's regime, but far from all of them are indignant purely because of their leaders. We can use this."
"And what do you propose?" Weiss asked with interest.
"We need some sort of organization that won't be explicitly linked to the Order, something official and recognized. Every secret society in history had something similar to facilitate recruitment and present themselves as the good guys to society. Charities, supranational organizations for the protection of nature, for example, and so on. I propose we organize a student union."
Weiss choked on her tea and stared at him like he was a traitor. While she tried to stammer out a response, Egrer rushed to continue his thought.
"I know that the heiress to a multi-billion-Lien corporation can't exactly think of unions in a positive light, but just hear me out. This organization will serve us first and foremost, meaning the Order of the Seat-Snatchers, and pursue our goals—namely, staging coups within our teams."
"Are we even allowed to do that?" Nora asked, tilting her head.
"Why not? Politicians do it all the time; Weiss's daddy dearest sure does."
"My father is a businessman," the Vice-President deemed it necessary to correct, dabbing her lips with a napkin.
"A major businessman," Egrer corrected in turn, "same shit, different pile. Don't tell me he doesn't lobby for laws that benefit him and all that. Pretty shady ones, too, by the way."
"I know," Weiss snapped, sticking her nose up at the ceiling. "I know they're shady. When I become the head of the corporation, there will be nothing of the sort."
Egrer lowered his eyes to the floor. He didn't quite understand why he'd suddenly decided to take a jab at her. Maybe because he remembered that Weiss Schnee was the daughter of the Jacques Schnee? He somehow hadn't paid much attention to that; she had plenty of other flaws besides her lineage.
"Ahem, anyway, we're talking about something else. So, how do you like the union idea, Vice-President?"
"Quite devious. Exploiting the dreams of the oppressed masses for a better future and channeling their energy into a direction beneficial to us... We'll make our job of swapping leaders a lot easier."
"I knew you'd like it." The little multi-layered scheme worked. Egrer would use the Order, the Order would use the union, and the union would use the miserable students. And no one was supposed to guess that he came up with all of this primarily to bring back the music club.
"But who will be at the head?" Weiss asked. "The leader has to be someone from the Order, to always keep their finger on the pulse."
"Obviously, me," the Supreme Chairman replied as if it were a given. "It's my idea, plus I spent a long time gathering intel on the issues troubling the working... ahem, excuse me, the student intelligentsia."
"Aren't you biting off a little more than you can chew, Chairman?" the Vice-President squinted disapprovingly. "You already have our Order under your stewardship."
"Well, I wouldn't say managing it is all that hard." He carelessly scratched his cheek and took a gulp of tea.
"And yet, I believe that if you tear yourself between two leadership positions, it will negatively impact both the work of the Order and the work of the future union. It would be most logical to give this position to me," she suggested in passing, as if it held no importance to her, totally casual. So casually, in fact, that she was intensely examining her fingernails. "Naturally, you will become my deputy," she added a second later.
"I don't think that's necessary. The union will serve the goals of the Order of the Seat-Snatchers, and since I am the head of the Order, I should be the head of the subsidiary enterprise as well." Weiss frowned harder and showed no intention of backing down. A new round of arguing followed right on the heels of the previous one.
After all, commanding others was her need too. They were both used to giving orders and weren't about to let their chance slip away so easily. The only difference was that Egrer had somewhat quenched his thirst through the post of Supreme Chairman, but even so, he craved more. Such is the nature of power.
And so they continued to argue until they were blue in the face, though remaining within the bounds of decency and keeping things strictly formal.
Egrer was genuinely proud of his ability to hold a dialogue with any conversation partner, no matter how whacked out or abnormal they were. It's hard not to pick up that skill when you've spent several years traveling through the deepest assholes of all four kingdoms in the company of a narcissistic, selfish thief and an overprotective maniac. He was also proud that he was very hard to piss off, but Weiss proved there was still room for improvement on that front.
"Let's just settle it with rock-paper-scissors!" Nora suddenly exclaimed, having been dying of boredom until then.
They still had a dozen reasons left as to why one of them should specifically head the future union, but both realized this argument could last forever.
"I suppose that's not the worst solution," Weiss nodded thoughtfully.
"I suppose it is," Egrer agreed.
"I'm playing too!" Nora as the General Secretary of the union? If that actually happened, the idea could be buried immediately. But he didn't have the energy to drag this argument out any longer; let chance be their judge.
"Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!" Egrer and Nora threw rock, while Weiss threw paper.
"YES!" she thrust her fist towards the sky and almost jumped, but quickly regained her composure. "Ahem. Under my careful guidance, the union will become a valuable weapon for the Order, I promise."
Alright fine, the score is now one-to-one. But you didn't earn this point on merit, Weiss.
"No-o-o!" the Private practically cried. "When do I get to be queen? I want to rule!"
Come to think of it, the Seat-Snatchers were just a gathering of unfulfilled "Overlords" from some kids' cartoon... A terrifying and unpleasant realization.
"So be it," the Supreme Chairman sighed, pulling out paper and a pen. "We need to throw something populist and vague into the program. The main thing is not to make any concrete promises. If they catch us on our word, we'll actually have to fulfill them, and we don't need that."
"Do not worry, I know my way around this. The best rhetoric tutors have praised me," Weiss deemed it necessary to remind him. "I'll be able to promise the oppressed everything at once and nothing specific."
Oh gods, all this just to bring back the music club... I feel like a part-time Illuminati.
***
"Listen up, everyone!" Weiss shouted into a megaphone, standing on a chair in the middle of the cafeteria. The cheerful din didn't die down right away, but the General Secretary of the newborn union patiently waited for the perfect silence that usually happens during a lesson when a teacher asks a question.
It was lunch time, so practically every Beacon student could see her. Egrer stood right next to her, waving a flag that read, "Student Union - Together We Will Solve All Problems!" He thought the slogan sounded a bit too commercial, but the General Secretary had insisted on it.
"Are you tired of enduring neglect from Beacon's administration?"
"Yeah!" Nora shouted from her seat, drawing surprised looks from her friends at the table. According to the plan, she was supposed to play the role of a hype-man and the voice of the crowd.
"Are you tired of their tyranny? The banning of clubs, movements, and even music genres they find objectionable?!" Here they were blatantly making an elephant out of a fly, but hey, it's populism, they're allowed to.
"We're tired of it!"
"Are you tired of the rampant bullying that goes on with the Headmaster's silent permission?!"
"I hate bullies! I'll break their legs!"
"Then we must unite!" Weiss clenched her fist and raised it high toward the ceiling. Her tutors really had done a stellar job; if there was one thing she knew how to do, it was play to an audience. "Only by uniting under common banners can we build a better future for everyone! Join our union! Together, we are more than just the sum of our parts! No one will protect us and our rights except ourselves!"
"Wow!" Nora exclaimed again. "The union will definitely solve all my problems! I'm definitely going to join them to stand up for my rights, and the rights of my friends!"
Overdoing it. Still, no big deal, it was Nora, that kind of behavior was normal for her. Now, if she had started thoughtfully lecturing about class struggle and the systematic oppression of Faunus by humans as an inseparable trend of the capitalist mode of production, *that* would have definitely raised suspicions of her being a plant.
Weiss and Egrer began carrying the freshly printed flyers, which outlined the union's main goals in the struggle, around the hall. The closest tables were those of teams RWBY and JNPR.
"A student union, then?" Blake looked skeptical and even gloomier than usual. Her bright yellow eyes carefully looked Weiss up and down. "You and a union? Did I get that right?"
"Yes, what's wrong with that? Just because I'm a corporate heiress doesn't mean I'm deaf to the suffering of the common folk." she flourished the stack of pamphlets, adding more weight to her words.
"Really?" Blake didn't buy it for a second. "Are we talking about the same company that ignores any and all criticism? The one that suppresses worker protests and exploits the Faunus worse and worse every single year? And now you're saying 'No one will protect us and our rights except ourselves'. Seems a bit hypocritical, don't you think?"
Apparently, the SDC's activities were a very sore subject for Blake. Overall, Egrer actually agreed with her, especially since he knew Weiss's true intentions, and it really was incredibly hypocritical. But since they were pursuing the same goals, he had to stand up for her, if only out of Order solidarity. Besides, it wasn't his place to judge her, considering the idea of a puppet union was his in the first place.
"You can't dump all her company's sins onto Weiss. She's not the one who's..." suddenly his nose tickled. "Achoo! In charge there."
"Exactly," the heiress nodded gratefully, "bless you. I'm a student just like you, so I suffer from the same problems as everyone else here. Just join the union if you care about our future! Meeting is at seven PM by the cherry tree, let's see how many of us there are!"
"I think I'll pass."
"Don't mind them," Yang said, taking a flyer from Egrer. "They have these passive-aggressive arguments every day. Since when did you two team up anyway?"
"We met on the first day, turned out we had common interests. Meeting's at seven PM by the cherry tree, let's see how many of us there are."
"Well, you didn't waste any time." She nodded respectfully, not forgetting to add a wink. Egrer rolled his eyes and turned to Jaune.
"For old times' sake, join the union!" There was something inherently wrong about offering this to the leaders the Order was targeting. If they actually joined, it would be highly ironic. "Think about protecting yourself and your loved ones! Meeting's at seven PM by the cherry tree, let's see how many of us there are!"
"U-uh... I'll think about it, yeah," he mumbled, staring at his Snow Angel, who had just handed a flyer to Ruby and Ren. It was blatantly obvious that Jaune would only join them for Weiss's sake.
His nose tickled again, but this time Egrer was ready and buried his face in his shoulder.
Do they have pepper floating in the air or something?
Once they were done with that table, the union moved on. The upperclassmen treated the idea with skepticism; they were already used to the current state of affairs, and many refused to even read the flyer. The first and second years, however, took to the idea, but would they have the guts to actually join the cause, or would they just limit themselves to words of support?
They deliberately bypassed the tables of Team CRDL and other confirmed bullies. Only Majesty remained.
"I'll pass," Illmond blurted out immediately. Egrer hadn't really counted on his participation; he was way too lazy for social activism.
"Weaklings unite to get stronger," Yort scoffed at the pamphlet Weiss held out to him. She tightened her grip.
"Excuse me, what did you just say?"
"I'm not participating in this circus. I stand on my own," he answered with dignity, returning to his food.
"Hey, Madge." Egrer stood next to her, knowing exactly what to say. "How about breaking a few unbreakable rules? For everything good against everything bad, of course. Meeting's at seven PM by the cherry tree, let's see how many of us there are!"
"I'm in!" Magenta took the pamphlet, didn't even bother reading it, and just shoved it into her jacket pocket.
"Our work here is done," Egrer said when he and Weiss retreated to the food dispenser. "Time for us to eat too, I'm starving."
However, it was not meant to be.
"Mr. Peleni, Ms. Schnee," a voice rang out behind them. The voice of the God of Darkness himself. And he was not happy.
"Y-Yes, Ms. Goodwitch?" Weiss turned around on jelly legs. Egrer's instincts, however, kicked in—he tried to bail, diving for a window. But an unseen force caught him first, clamping down like a vise. He just froze mid-air in a swan dive pose.
"To the Headmaster. Now," she grit out, smacking her crop against her palm.
Guided by Ms. Goodwitch's Semblance, Egrer floated along behind them. He could only roll his eyes and mumble, as even his jaw refused to unclench. Everyone who had spoken positively about the union idea buried their faces in their plates and refused to look up, while the detractors snickered quietly. Even Private Valkyrie pretended they didn't know each other.
There was plenty of time to ponder the gravity of the situation and go through all five stages of grief. At first, Egrer didn't want to believe he'd actually been caught; this was a first in his life. The cops couldn't catch him, criminals couldn't catch him, his dad hadn't caught him, but here he hadn't even managed to take a single step.
Then he got pissed off at everyone in general and no one in particular: at Weiss, because she could talk but stayed silent the whole way and didn't make excuses; at Goodwitch, because she was the one who caught them; at himself, because he hadn't been fast enough to escape. Egrer was mad at the Headmaster, at Nora, at Magenta, and at Jaune. No one was left out, everyone was cursed with every swear word in the book.
He was forced to skip the bargaining stage for obvious reasons, but he had plenty of time to wallow in depression; the path to the Headmaster dragged on for an eternity.
The few students who weren't in the cafeteria froze and pressed themselves against the walls to let Ms. Goodwitch pass. But as soon as she walked by, they started pointing fingers at Egrer and whispering.
The final stage, acceptance, hit him in the Headmaster's tower, when there was nowhere left to run and the Iron Lady's Semblance finally released its grip.
"Have a seat," Ozpin greeted them. He clasped his hands together and didn't look very friendly. Meaning, normally he was such a welcoming and kind grandpa, but right now it looked like he was getting ready to execute them.
Not daring to say a word, the union members sat in the chairs. Ms. Goodwitch stood behind them, pinning the poor students between two of the strongest Huntsmen of the modern era.
Tick-tock, tick-tock.
The gears beneath the glass floor moved in time with the sound, and Egrer got a real good look at them, since he was staring straight down. Of course, he didn't actually feel guilty, but if he faked it, maybe the Headmaster's wrath wouldn't be as severe. Besides, he was just plain terrified.
"So." Ozpin got straight to the point. "What do you have to say for yourselves? Perhaps you have some reason for acting so recklessly?"
Egrer and Weiss exchanged glances and communicated purely through facial expressions for a moment.
You're the head of the union—you make the excuses.
And you're the head of the Order, you make the excuses.
Officially, the Order and the union aren't linked, so go ahead, knock yourself out.
"Sir," Weiss began fearlessly, lifting her chin defiantly, "we have not broken any academy rules, and I demand to know—on what grounds were we detained?"
"Is that so?" Ms. Goodwitch answered a question with a question, tapping her crop against her palm.
"The academy has no rule against expressing one's opinion," she found her courage, straightening her back. Beside her, hunched over with slumping shoulders, Egrer looked pathetic.
"Indeed," the frowning Headmaster nodded. "There is no such ban. But you are not here because of your union; there is no issue with that."
The General Secretary and the Secretary to the General Secretary exchanged glances again, this time with utterly baffled expressions.
"Then... why were we detained?"
"You did not break academy rules, but you did break cafeteria rules," Ozpin explained, taking a sip of coffee.
"Right!" Egrer slapped his forehead. "There was something about agitation written on that poster." The Headmaster nodded and gave a faint smile. The tension dissipated slightly, but the hairs on the back of Egrer's neck were still standing on end.
"And since your speech, Ms. Schnee, had a distinctly left-wing slant, Glynda deemed it appropriate to detain you."
"But those are just cafeteria rules!" Weiss wasn't going to take this lying down. "It's an unofficial set of rules written by one person, it holds no legal weight."
"You are correct. However," the Headmaster raised a finger, stopping her from continuing, "these rules of decorum allow the cafeteria to function properly. If not for them, that location would have been reduced to a crater long ago. Think about it," he softened slightly, "the entirety of Beacon gathers in that space three times a day. Friends and foes, allies and rivals. It only takes one spark to ignite a fire, and the rules are meant to prevent exactly that."
"Then why don't you include them in the official list of Beacon rules?"
"That is problematic for certain legal reasons I won't delve into."
Weiss was about to argue further, but Egrer pulled her back and whispered quietly:
"Why do you care so much about the cafeteria? We'll just agitate somewhere else."
"It's not about the cafeteria, you idiot," she hissed back, before turning to the Headmaster again. "Since the rules are unofficial, there can't be any punishment for breaking them either."
"You are correct," the Headmaster said for the third time. "But in that case, an unofficial punishment will follow: you will end up on Glynda's blacklist," he nodded behind them, and another snap of the crop echoed from that direction, "and she will keep a much closer eye on you. And she will certainly find something to punish you for, but officially this time."
"That's a blatant threat!"
"You are correct," the Headmaster said for the third time. "But none of us wants a food fight or an exclusion zone in place of the cafeteria, wouldn't you agree? The cafeteria is the most dangerous zone in Beacon, and the teaching staff will do everything in their power to maintain a maximally neutral atmosphere there. Especially a political one."
Before Weiss could start arguing again, Egrer spoke up:
"So there's no problem with the union, we just can't agitate in the cafeteria, did I get that right?" Ozpin nodded. "Then there won't be any more problems with that. Am I right, Weiss?"
"Of course," she answered with visible effort.
"I am glad we understand each other. I believe you are free to go, unless Glynda has any more questions for you."
"I do not," the Iron Lady dismissed them, which the two students hurried to take advantage of. Just as the elevator doors started to close, the Headmaster said in parting:
"Regarding your program," he waved a pamphlet that had appeared out of nowhere, "I like it. Good luck." The doors closed, and the elevator headed down.
Egrer leaned against the wall, undid a couple of buttons on his shirt, and tugged at his collar. He ran a hand over his neck, wiping away a myriad of tiny sweat drops.
"That... Headmaster!" Weiss clearly wanted to call him something else, but held back. "He is mocking us!"
"What makes you say that? Seems like we got off easy."
"Did you not hear him?! 'I like your program' is the most brazen mockery I've heard in my life!" She started pacing nervously from side to side. There wasn't much room in the elevator car, so whenever she turned around, her white hair whipped the surroundings, including Egrer.
"Well, actually, yeah." He pondered. "He can't possibly like it, we blamed all of Beacon's problems on him. Even the bullies."
"That's only half the disaster!" Weiss suddenly stopped, threw up her hands, and started pacing in circles again. "We were caught in public by Ms. Goodwitch right after our agitation. We know we were taken to the Headmaster for breaking cafeteria rules, but to everyone else, it looked like a consequence of union activity. It's anti-advertising: 'Join the union and piss off Ms. Goodwitch'!"
"No way..." the true reason for her indignation started to dawn on Egrer.
"Yes! It's logical to assume he planned this from the very beginning." The elevator doors opened and Weiss walked out at a pace that suggested she knew exactly where the solution to all their problems lay. "The Headmaster has no need to ban anything or even punish us, painting himself in a bad light. He understands perfectly well that after a stunt like that, we won't achieve anything and won't be able to shake his authority."
"So devious..." Egrer buried his face in his sweaty palms, then said with a firmness that surprised even himself. "But we won't give up the fight, General Secretary."
"Really? Will there be any use for a union if it only has three people? Maybe someone will show up at the cherry tree today, but I doubt there will be many. And without a large mass of people, we won't be able to pressure the Headmaster."
"Think about it, why wouldn't students join us? Out of fear that they'll get their asses kicked by Ms. Goodwitch too." She nodded in agreement; it was an obvious truth. "But if we show them she's on our side, that fear will evaporate!"
"And how do you intend to win her favor?" Weiss actually stopped. Crossing her arms over her chest, she fell into deep thought, pondering the idea. "If we start doing community service, that will take too much time and energy."
"That won't be necessary," Egrer assured her, looking around. He didn't really want to talk about this in the middle of the hallway, but the coast seemed clear. Even so, he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "We just need to create the impression that Ms. Goodwitch supports our cause. All we need is to get her to praise us. A couple of quotes taken out of context will be enough; we'll just record them on our Scrolls and tell everyone she wasn't praising us personally, but the union as a whole. We'll start some rumors, and the others will fill in the details for us."
"But what if Ms. Goodwitch wants to refute them?" Weiss also lowered her voice.
"She won't, because we're still going to have to do some community service. But at least not on a massive scale."
"Sounds like a good plan."
"I don't make any other kind," Egrer boasted, crossing his arms cockily.
"That was sarcasm."
"Oh... well, we don't have any other ideas anyway, right?"
***
"Do you really like what's written here?" Glynda Goodwitch asked, pointing at the pamphlet in the Headmaster's hands.
"Yes. After all, they are striving for a better future, and their demands are quite just."
"You do realize that they blame almost all their troubles on you, correct? And they hint, rather transparently, that they need a new Headmaster? Preferably someone from their union."
"Is that so? Perhaps I should do something about that... I'll get to it tomorrow." Ozpin tossed the pamphlet into his desk.
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(A/N Notes:)
Anticipating your question: yes, besides the canon ones, there will be other teachers here.