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Weiss sighed. Team RWBY were resting in one of the Happy Huntresses' many hideouts. She stood at a window, looking at Atlas above. She didn't want to lay low, but they didn't have much choice until they saw how Ironwood would react to Salem's approach now that he couldn't run away. He was broken enough that he might prioritize clapping them in irons over defending Mantle and Atlas.
She couldn't deceive herself for long. He'd gladly abandon Mantle if it meant controlling the new Winter Maiden or getting revenge against RWBY for defying him. She had wondered, before returning to Atlas, why he was so chummy with her father. Now she knew that they were kindred spirits. They wanted control, control over everything. It was by controlling everyone around them that they gained the other things they desired, particularly power and wealth.
Experiencing the rest of the world had opened Weiss's eyes to many of the flaws of Atlas. The thought that fixing Atlas was just as important as fixing the SDC was not a happy one. The SDC might be salvaged from the top down with her father out of the way, if Willow found her spine and didn't let Whitley take over. A top-down fix of Atlas would require the removal of hundreds of people from power and would also require finding a new purpose for the Staff.
She turned as soft footsteps approached from the bedroom the Huntresses' were sharing in order to make room for their guests.
“I hope you're not missing those god-awful parties.” May's voice was a little raspy from the sleep she was shaking off. “Every one is just a passive-aggressive name-dropping competition with some shitty event happening around the edges to ''justify'' the party. Once you're aware of it, they're as miserable as a miner's workday. The only saving grace is that the parties don't last the same twelve to fourteen hours.”
“I'd be happy to never attend another, although I did arrest my father at the last one, and I got disowned and almost attacked your cousin at the one before that. But, two out of hundreds isn't a ratio worth attending another party. They all model their parties after my father's, and he only puts them on to display wealth and negotiate deals where accountants and actuaries aren't invited. His favorite trick is to send them rare and expensive wines as he makes the rounds. They're always the last people he gets to in the hopes that they'll be inebriated and make a bad deal. He makes sure to save the surveillance footage so they can't argue that they were coerced.”
“What a delight.” May's voice oozed sarcasm. “I wouldn't put it past my family to do the same. Henry himself is empty of thought and emotion. All the money he could ever need, but he can't think of a use for it.” May continued, “There's something wrong with the city up there. They tell each other about Atlesian exceptionalism and pat each other on the back over everything great that has been done in the name of Atlas, but they're not the ones who do any of it.”
“That was a harsh realization. Leaving Atlas, going to Beacon, was the best decision I ever made.” Weiss looked up and frowned at Atlas. “They're so small up there, but I was just like them.” Her voice was rueful at the admission.
“You do seem happier than you were at any party I remember, even with the world's end looming.” May had to lean down a ways to bump shoulders with Weiss.
“I am. You seem happier, too. I remember people making comments about your scowling at those events. I wish I'd been exposed to better lives sooner.” She laughed. “We could have been miserable about the right things together before you left for Atlas Academy.”
May was silent for a while. “Yes. That life wasn't mine, wasn't me. There's little about that time that I care to revisit, and my family didn't make any of it easier. Getting away from them and the Atlesian ''elites'' made a difference. Robyn. Joanna. Fiona. It helped to have them at my back. There are parts of–” She paused. “–changing and growing, that you always go through alone, but having the right people around lightens those burdens considerably.”
“I learned the same thing. Blake, Ruby, and Yang pushed me to be a better person, but they didn't try to make me into someone I'm not. They pushed me to find my better self. My father tried to push me into a mold. My team broke it and showed me where I had room to grow, showed me how small the mold was.”
May nodded, “I don't think that could happen in Atlas, not among our families' circles. There's no joy in them. They can't seem to value anything aside from wealth. I hope the common Atlesian has more sense, but they all work for our families or others like them. It's hard to believe they haven't already poisoned the well. There weren't many Atlesians in the Academy during my time there. They've never been hungry, never had to fight. The people from Mantle and the few from other kingdoms that came to Atlas had so much drive that they made most of the Atlesians, me included, look lazy. That was the start for me. Joanna kicked my ass in my first sparring session and showed me how far I had to go.”
Weiss agreed, “The people you find outside of Atlas seem brighter, too. No one has tried to tear me down when I didn't deserve it. At my father's parties, it was like being surrounded by Grimm. They would have destroyed anyone who showed weakness.” She mused, “I think they would have also torn down anyone who displayed strength. They can't stand feeling weak by comparison, either.”
“I hope we get a chance to bring them down. Show them the emptiness of their wealth.” May cleared her throat. “Hold on, I need to drink something.” She walked purposefully into the meager kitchen this hideaway contained and quickly returned with a beer stein and a snifter filled with the same orange liquid. She shrugged and held both out to Weiss. “It's just juice. We ran out of appropriate glassware when stocking this hole.”
Weiss accepted the snifter with a murmured thanks, but clinked it against the stein before drinking. “Here's to exile.”
May grinned, “To exile.”