RF9/HA49

Sadly, it wasn't just the faunus thinking that way. Though the authorities handled themselves well, many human spectators jeered and tossed insults, while others tossed bottles or stones. The faunus were covered by Atlas soldiers where they could be, but some hit home, and the cries of pain only seemed to fuel the angry mob more.

"Animals!"

"Go back to Menagerie!"

"You're not welcome here!"

Some of the insults were viler, `dog-fucker` was a popular one, or just changing the first part to whatever faunus type they were. Some liked to believe (erroneously, of course) that faunus were born from humans rutting with animals. It was the kind of baseless conspiracy theory racists liked to use to convince themselves their actions were justified. It was pathetic, and in a way he couldn't help but wonder if the White Fang had the right idea. Not in terms of terrorism, but that words alone wouldn't change things. Adam was probably right in saying the first iteration of the White Fang hadn't gone far enough, but the problem was that he'd taken it too far.

Something caught his eye in the crowd, or someone. It was a tuft of black with two black ears above, dark shorts and a small, lithe frame.

"Blake…?"

It was. It was her. She was in the protest, small and angry and carrying a sign even as she was ushered away with several other smaller faunus. A rock struck the boy to her left and he fell with a startled cry. An Atlas soldier moved to shield him, leaving Blake open.

Jaune was already moving. He stalked past the angry public and to the melee, dashed at the last second when he saw a rock fly. Blake saw it too, and tried to shy away – only to find herself pressed in by so many bodies. Her hands came up to shield her face. It was too far, too fast. He wasn't going to reach her. Frustrated, Jaune swept forward, flung his coat back and drew Crocea Mors. The blade scythed up, catching the rock and deflecting it not three inches from Blake's little face.

[...]

"Blake, are you-?"

"I'm okay," Blake gasped, shaking like a leaf. They were outside of Atlas now, gathered with the other White Fang and safe at last. Her eyes burned with tears, not from anger or pain but the after-effects of her fear. She rounded on her companion. "But you, your face – Adam!"

"It's fine." It wasn't, but he somehow remained strong, wiping away the blood from where the rock had hit him.

—RF10

[...]

"But he cared too much?"

"Yes." Blake clenched her eyes shut. "He saw the things happening to other faunus and he couldn't ignore it. Even as a kid. He'd drag me to the protests with mom and dad and we'd both wave signs and say we were fighting the good fight. Doing the right thing. Change through peace."

"What changed?" Yang asked.

"Nothing. Nothing changed. That was the problem. Atlas continued as it always did, and actually started getting worse because we dared to complain. I remember one time they started throwing rocks at us. At children. There were Atlas soldiers all around making sure the protest didn't become violent, but they just stood there and let it happen." Blake snorted at Yang's horrified expression. "Apparently, it was only a problem if we became violent."

"Were you hit?"

"I wasn't. Adam was, blocking for me and trying to catch a stone before it hit me. It struck him right in the face. Dad dragged us away and into the crowd before any more could, but I remember holding him, crying and trying to wash the blood away. People were chanting all the while. Go home, faunus. Back to Menagerie. You're not welcome here." Her nostrils flared. "They called us animals, strays and freaks. But you know what? That didn't stop him. Adam was right back the next time, sign in hand and a plaster over his nose." Blake's laughter was brittle. "The stubborn idiot."

—HA49