The Games We Play

DISCLAIMER: This story is NOT MINE IN ANY WAY. That honor has gone to the beautiful bastard Ryuugi. This has been pulled from his Spacebattle publishment. Anyway on with the show...errr read.

Faces

To be honest, it wasn't actually something I'd done before—use my illusions to make myself seem like someone else, I mean. I simply didn't need to, since I could actually become someone else with a change of a title, physically shifting from Jaune to Jian in an instant. My height would change several inches, my features shift, and I'd even grow a tail, all of which was completely real; a transformation, rather than an illusion.

Even beyond that, I just didn't usually need to pretend to be someone else. With my senses as sharp as they were, I could pick up conversations from enormous distances and pick up tremendous amounts of detail and with Naraka, I could flat-out break into places without leaving a trace. If I didn't want to be noticed, it was usually a simple matter for me to hide myself completely, whether by crawling underground or by turning invisible. Between those advantages and the fact that I hadn't possessed the power very long, I simply hadn't needed to try and change my appearance.

And then there were the obstacles that got in the way of doing so. I could bend light to make myself seem smaller or larger than I truly was easily enough, but both came with their own limitations. If I made myself seem smaller then I actually was, I'd need to both craft an illusion and turn any part of my body that didn't 'fit' into the illusion invisible—simple enough, in and of itself. But there were other things to worry about, too; if I was smaller, I'd need to fake a proportionally smaller reach. Similarly, I'd need to use my powers to make sure that anything that seemed to come in contact with me was made to look like it had touched the smaller figure, rather than the true me. And if I came in contact with an actual person, if I didn't feel the part of whatever I seemed to be…

The same applied to making myself larger, if somewhat differently. Rather than faking the inexistence of any part of my body that shouldn't have been there, I'd need to fake the existence of the parts that seemed like they should have been there. Then you get into other issues of the disguise—minor things, mainly, but a large number of them. Accounting for how a larger or smaller person moved, making the motions seem to flow naturally, potentially adjusting a fighting style to a different body, that type of thing. It was annoying and had been, at least thus far, completely unnecessary. The 'simplest' solution was to disguise oneself as a person of the same size and shape, which limited things a fair bit and, really, and at that point, you might as well just say screw it, turn invisible—and, if absolutely necessary, whip up an illusion without bothering with any overlaying, use it for a short time, and discard it.

But that only applies to someone who has access to the wealth of options I do. I didn't bother because I was already spoilt for choice and could address the problem in a broad array of what were, to me, simple ways. For those who couldn't bend the elements, turn invisible, or shapeshift into an entirely different person with what amounted to the push of a button, there were some uses for such a thing, here and there.

Which also made this the first time I cast an illusion on someone else, actually—and I was betting that maintaining such an overlay on someone else was going to get annoying after a while, but hey. What are friends for, if not to be occasionally annoying?

Thankfully, I was pleasantly surprised. Halfway through laying an illusion over Adam, I felt a practiced ease come over me, despite the fact that I had no actual practice at doing such a thing. It became abruptly clear to me that I could anchor such an illusion to a person's body and Aura. After all, I mused, if you actually thought about it, my illusions were already anchored to Remnant, through some means. Despite having no mass—or, at least, no more mass than light—I didn't have to adjust them in regards to the rotation or revolution of the planet I lived, nor the vaster motions of the galaxy or the universe. When you thought about it that way, if was obviously possible to do such a thing, so it was just a matter of figuring out how.

Although admittedly, at their most basic level, pretty much everything was just 'figuring out how and then actually doing it.' Doing it in practice tended to be a touch more complicated—but at the very least, my power seemed to know what it was doing.

A skill has been created through a special action! A skill to magically conceal oneself, 'Glamour,' has been created through the combination of Delusory and Disguise!

But why did I get it for this and not for the illusion I constantly used to hide my light? Was it because I hadn't actually changed how I looked? Or had my skill with Delusory been too low at the time? Maybe a combination of both, with touches of my new skills thrown into the mix?

It didn't matter, I supposed. My power was so absurdly useful, I guess I couldn't fault it for occasionally being picky.

I wove strands of my Aura into Adam's, placing a layer of bright white over shining red. As I did so, his hair changed, darkening even as red streaks faded from brown. His horns, thankfully, were fairly subtle in appearance to begin with and I merely blended them into the rest of his hair before adjusting his skin tone so that he didn't look like someone who did almost all of his work in the dark. I brushed away anything that might give who he was away, changing his mask to sunglasses, erasing the symbols on his coat, and adding colors that weren't blood red and pitch black. His clothes hid most of his body, but I altered what I could of what remained.

"I'm doing the best with what I'm given," I told him. "But limited as I am to…well, you, there's only so much I can do. I'll do what I can to fix your face, but I think it's a lost cause."

He kicked at my shin and given everything I'd put him through tonight, it seemed only fair, so I allowed it. His foot slammed right into my Adamant skin and other defenses and he swore.

"Gah, you asshole," He snarled, lifting his foot off the ground. "I stubbed my goddamn toe."

"Oops," I said mildly before healing him, despite his actions against my person. Truly, the kindness within my heart knows no bounds. I didn't even alter the Glamour I was setting up, I was that nice—and after a few finishing touches, I was also done. "There. It's not much, but you're not so hideous we have to keep you locked up in the basement anymore. Let's go."

He ignored me, taking several quick strides towards the mirror he'd left lying on a desk—Blake's mirror I noted after a quick glance. He looked at for a moment, glanced himself up and down, and gave his opinion.

"Eh," He pronounced. "It'll do, I suppose. I'll probably still look great standing next to an ugly human like you."

"I could write the words 'Princess Blowjob' on your back at will, you realize," I told him. "Literally at will, any time I wanted, without you even noticing. And on that comforting note, let's go already."

He sneered at me, but turned and angled the mirror to check before setting it down gently.

"Fine," He said, tone a tad sullen. "Where are we going?"

I snapped my fingers and drew us both into Naraka before gesturing towards the same wall I'd just come through with a hand. The wall exploded outwards as if sucked through an enormous tube, leaving a smooth set of stair straight to the surface that I immediately began to walk up.

"Around town," I answered, letting Jian's features fade away as I switched back to my usual out-of-combat title. "Let's go see what we can find out about my new friends."

Adam frowned at me as he followed.

"You sure you want to be seen with me like that?" He asked.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," I replied instantly. "Usually a loser like you wouldn't get to hang out with the popular kids like me, but I'll tolerate your presence somehow. Just think of it as me doing charity—you're a poor disabled child that I'm trying to draw from the social void with my general magnificence. No need to thank me; I'm just doing it for the tax deduction and then back into the hole you go."

"Oh, shut your whore mouth," He snorted. "I'm serious."

I chuckled and cracked my neck, vanishing completely between one step and the next and causing Adam to jolt forward.

"Jaune—" He began before cutting himself off as he walked into me and bounced off. I reached out and grabbed him before he could fall down the stairs, reappearing as he righted himself, and tossed him a smile.

"Don't worry about it," I shrugged at him. "If I sense anything worth worrying about, I'll vanish in a heartbeat or I'll change my face or we'll just leave. But even if they do somehow see us without me noticing and somehow recognize you through that illusion…so what? We're allies now—Raven and my Grandmother are working together. We'll just say you're my bodyguard, because Jeanne Roma wanted an extra layer of protection for her youngest grandchild. I even had an actual bodyguard last time I was here, so it makes sense. If you really have to, just say it was a request from Jian Bing and that before his overwhelming masculinity there was nothing you could do but obey."

"I would literally die before saying that," He told me seriously. "But I see your point, I suppose."

"Besides," I continued. "There are advantages to being me—millions and millions of them. This specific one is that being the grandson of the Roma Matriarch gives me a lot of leeway. All sorts of doors open when I ask them to, see?"

"Ah," He nodded slowly, having apparently forgotten what that meant here in Mistral. "I suppose I could see that coming in handy. Where to first?"

"You tell me," I said, continuing my climb up the stairs. "You're the one in charge of keeping in touch with these guys, right? Where do they usually hang out?"

"The illusionist, you mean?" He asked.

"Or whoever else you want to see," I replied, giving another shrug. "Might as well check them all out, right?"

He nodded at that, expression considering.

"They don't usually stay in one place for very long," He answered slowly. "But there are a few places they seem to return to every now and then. Couldn't hurt to take a look."

"Mhm," I agreed, smile widening. "And besides, we got interrupted last time we went out for drinks. I owe you for the Dust and, you know. Showing up."

"You're paying, then?" He asked immediately to avoid any awkwardness.

"Of course," I chuckled. "Try not to get too drunk though, you lightweight."

I rolled the glass between my fingers, shifting the amber liquid inside. Adam had picked it from the bar when we came in but I didn't recognize the brand. Well, truthfully, I didn't recognize any of the brands; after confirming that drinking alcohol would do absolutely nothing to or for me, I'd lost all interest in it. I played along as Adam drank so that my friend could enjoy himself without worry, but my thoughts were elsewhere from the moment I sat down in the bar.

Thankfully, it wasn't difficult to find distractions. I'd say we'd gotten lucky with our first choice, but I liked to think I made my own luck; the moment Adam had told me the possible locations, I'd scanned them all for signs of activity and then picked the one with the most. We'd picked a bar a few blocks away, got in without so much as a word about my age, and then I'd started keeping watch.

"When did they start using the White Fang for muscle?" I asked, glancing at Adam.

"Hm?" He intoned, reclining in a chair beside me as he watched a game on one of the holographic displays in the bar. I knew more about sports then I did about drinks, primarily because of the many video games about them, but knowledge wasn't the same thing as interest and I honestly didn't care even a little bit about who was playing, much less winning. I kept track of the game in my periphery, as I did with everything around me, but nothing more than that.

"There are a lot of members of the White Fang working down there," I clarified. "Grunt labor, mostly. When'd it start?"

"Ah," He said, frowning abruptly. "That. Pretty much since we began to work together. I'm actually not entirely sure because it was kept under wraps in the beginning but…maybe seven months ago. It was just minor things in the beginning, though."

"Given how little we seem to know, I assume they don't get told much," I guessed.

"No," He stated, tone annoyed before he drained the rest of his glass. "They seem to consider us a delivery service more than anything; they call us up, tell us what to do, and expect us to do it. And we fucking do."

"That must grate on a lot of people," I muttered. "No wonder they aren't very well liked."

Adam grunted in agreement.

"It's the main cause of dissent between us and them," He nodded. "A lot of people say they treat us the way…well, the way most humans do. Thing is, they aren't wrong, at least not entirely."

"Anything you can tell me about the stuff they make you fetch for them?" I asked. "If they're having you deliver it for them, you must have some idea of what they're up to?"

"You'd think so," He sighed, topping his glass off. I rolled my glass again, downing it, and put it on the table. "But honestly, I have no idea what they're up to. Most of its just information—pretty much whatever we can get from the other Kingdoms and local businesses, really. Most of what's left tends to be small stuff that won't be missed and won't draw attention or stuff we can buy from stores. Since we got set up in Mistral, we've been doing a lot more of the latter, so it really is mostly delivery work; we actually picked up a few trucks just to help transport stuff. They might be building something, but if so, it could be just about anything you could make with access to a bunch of hardware stores and the supermarket. Which I assume is a lot?"

"You could build a few things that way, yeah," I understated, nodding slightly even as I frowned. "Doesn't really narrow things down. But…you just deliver normal stuff? Things you could get in a store?"

He nodded and I pursed my lips for a moment, musing.

"Can I assume that a shipment of nearly four thousand guns is outside the norm, then?" I asked. "I'm not really familiar with the gun laws in Mistral, but that seems a bit extreme."

Adam looked at me for a long moment.

"Huh?" He asked eloquently and I nodded in the general direction of our 'friends.'

"The crates the White Fang down there are moving," I said. "They're full of guns. Four thousand, three hundred and, hm, twenty-seven? One of the crates was opened recently, so I assume there are at least three more somewhere around here."

My friend was silent for a moment, a frown slowly working its way onto his face.

"That's…a lot of guns," Adam noted, putting down his drink as he slowly caught up.

"You didn't know about this," I stated, certain of the fact even before he shook his head. "Someone else's doing then?"

"I…" He paused to organize his thoughts. "I admit, I don't know what everyone in the White Fang is doing at any given time, but I feel like I would notice if we had that much firepower lying around. If nothing else, as the guy responsible for…them, I feel like I should be aware of this."

Anger was slowly working its way through the haze of alcohol and I tilted my head at him in consideration.

"Could someone be working with them behind your back?" I asked. "Providing them more…attention-drawing things without making you aware?"

"They better fucking not be," He growled. "What else can you see."

"A lot," I answered at once. "The guns look new. No offense meant, but given the way they're all neatly arranged in marked crates and such, I'd sort of figured they were stolen."

He tilted his head in acknowledgement, but his frown didn't fade.

"It's possible," He answered. "But that type of theft…that's fairly newsworthy. As in, worthy of being on the news, to say nothing of how word would travel within the White Fang. Even then, why would we give it to them? I'm not entirely sure of the size of their operation, but I can't imagine they'd need that many guns; I don't think they have enough people to use them if they wanted to. That's…"

Pieces clicked.

"Ah," I drew out. "Then perhaps they're the ones delivering this time?"

"What?" He asked again. "Jaune, what do you—"

I let my attention drift, eyes turning up to the skies as waves of light filled the air. I shifted through the frequencies, searching for anything that would standout even as I turned my gaze slowly towards the CCT.

"There was a bombing in Atlas recently," I said slowly, the sound of my own voice briefly distant as the transmissions filled my senses, the news reporters face as clear in my eyes as his voice was in my ears. "A lot of stuff got destroyed, including several warehouses. Their still not sure what the purpose of it was or if anything was missing, but…I'm going to go ahead and say 'yes.'"

When I returned fully to myself, Adam was staring at me with his eyebrows raised.

"How…"

"There's a news report about it," I answered. "It was on several channels so it must be getting a lot of attention. I found it in the airwaves."

"God," He muttered before shaking his head. "Whatever. You sure it's connected?"

"I haven't bothered with guns much since I learned how to outrun bullets," I admitted. "But I think they're of Atlesian make. The design on the box matches to one of the buildings that was on the news, too. Seems a bit unlikely to be a coincidence. I assume you'd know if the White Fang was responsible?"

"I dearly hope so," He answered, sounding a touch worried. "If we were responsible and I wasn't aware…"

He shook his head.

"Can you…show me?" He asked, voice a bit uncertain.

I considered it for a moment and then nodded, taking a quick glance around the bar before raising my hands to either side. The air above them filled with color before consolidating into distinct images, holograms I crafted with Delusory. The scenes I was viewing, both in the sky above and the warehouse below, rose from my hands in miniature, as clear as if on television—and after a moment, I had Levant provide audio as well.

"Jaune," Adam whispered urgently, head snapping towards the other people in the bar.

"Chill," I said distractedly. I was splitting my attention three ways, focusing simultaneously on the news report, the warehouse, and everything around us—and on top of that, I was maintaining an illusion around myself, around my table, and above each hand, the latter of which were in constant motion and thus, in constant need of readjustment, which itself meant I needed to pay close attention to the scenes I was displaying and recreate the scenes in the spectrum of light that Adam was used to. I'd say it made it a little hard to think about breathing, much less talking, but the truth was that I'd stopped breathing so I'd have one less thing to worry about. "They won't hear us, they won't see us."

Adam fell silent at that, focusing on the images I created with a frown firmly in place. He seemed to catch on to the fact that I was preoccupied, because he didn't say anything else, watching both scenes in silence. Sure enough, the White Fang began transporting the crates into trucks after a few minutes, one of them getting a signal on a scroll that made Adam purse his lips. The news report played out after several minutes and I switched frequencies to another station when I found one. Several people entered and exited the warehouse as the minutes passed, one of the White Fang's trucks leaving and another arriving a few minutes later. It wasn't the same truck, however, and the contents…

"Adam," I muttered in exactly the same tone, frowning when I remembered to adjust my own expression. I obviously needed to train Delusory some more if maintaining four illusions was giving me this much trouble. Independent images or no, I could keep track of entire neighborhoods with my senses; this should have been nothing, but it wasn't.

"I see it," He said. "Can you see who's driving?"

"What kind of question is that?" I sneered after a moment's delay. As I did, I shifted my gaze a tad to pierce through steel and stone alike to see who was inside.

Two humans, I noted, taking down mental notes fast as I memorized everything about them. One male, one female; silver and green hair respectively, making them stand out almost as much as the rest of them. The way they were dressed and the weapons they held made me think they were Hunters or, at least, Hunters-in-training—and if that wasn't enough, a glance above their head's would have made it obvious.

The Thief

LV53

Emerald Sustrai

The Butcher

LV58

Mercury Black