Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, Glynda stared at the plate presented before her, the main meal presented just after the aperitief that was a miniature seaweed cone filled with a cream made from fresh herbs topped with crunchy biscuit like flakes. The main meal itself was hearty with several thin cuts of meat—red and juicy in the middle—laid over a bedding of neatly spouted potato mash in the regular pale yellow but also with a few deep purple balls dotting around the meat, vegetables such as thin, almost seethrough radish slices were wrapped around several multi coloured carrots settled laying atop the jus covered meat. For Glynda, this was an incomparably chique meal especially when compared to what she could reasonably get in Beacon.
That wasn't to say the food at Beacon was horrible, far from actually. It just wasn't up to this standard, not in presentation and certainly not in taste. The meat was soft and almost melted the moment it touched her tongue which was assaulted by the heavy flavours of what could only be concentrated beef. The mash potato globules were warm and filled with butter and sweetness that softened the intense richness of the jus. Even the vegetables, as whole as they were, were filled with a brilliant array of flavourings. Olive oil and some type of light salted seasoning.
As she slowly ate, she would often lift her glance to Parc. Calm, unmoving bar to lower his head a smidgens and bring up a forkful of meat and mash to his mouth where he slowly chewed it in silence. His back straight as an arrow with hair slicked back over his head. If one were to look at him like this not knowing the things she did, they may very well misinterpret him as a gentleman.
Glynda's cutlery clanked against her plate halfway through finishing the meal and drew Parc's attention. "What is this?" she hissed, "since we got here you've made no demands of me, nothing. You mentioned my… mistake, once and then nothing else. Are you trying to whittle at my mind and make me stew? Because that will not work on me."
Brow raising, Parc lifted another mouthful of beef, mash, and part of a carrot to his mouth. After downing it cleansing his throat with a large sip of the wine, wincing at the strong taste that lingered at the back of his throat. "Blegh, should have gone for cola," he murmured, licked his lips and finally focused on Glynda, his own cutlery set crossed atop his near empty plate. "If I wanted to whittle at your mind I would have tied you up, locked you in a soundproof basement with no light and left you for a few hours, not take you to a chique restaurant. No, this is me trying to be generous and calm your nerves. Which obviously, has not worked."
Ignoring the basement, Glynda huffed, "calm my nerves? Considering who you are and everything you know, 'calm' is about the last thing I intend to be around you. Not even including the fact you were able to blackmail Ozpin into allowing you near the students, and now me. You commit them to what surmounts to mortal combat." The derision was palpable.
"They need it." He responded, "considering what Ozpin is training them to go against and who Salem has under her control, experience battle with actual pain included is about the least they deserve. If I was more evil than I am, I probably would be having them fight until the verge of death." After all, he could save them from actually dying considering the things he had stuffed in his pockets. Potions that could easily repair a broken body given enough time.
"Exactly that!" her voice rose, "you know about Salem's lackeys, information we are just now getting. And the students, you don't even care about their lives!"
"I do, for some. Characters like Cardin and his brigade of idiots not so much." He calmly said. For a moment Glynda grew furious in the eyes, she may not like those four but they still deserved the same respect as any of the others. Though their actions were increasingly making her want to have them expelled so the others could better focus on their studies without worry of being berated and essentially tortured.
Taking his fork, Parc finished the rest of his meal, moved his plate to the side and leaned onto the table with his arms crossing atop it. "I'm sure we could talk for hours about this secretive war of Ozpin's. Figure out the minutia, give names of all Salem's pets, their plans, and the plans of the white fang, tell you about who to trust and who not to tell you who dies and who doesn't and when. I have no interest in doing any of that. For the simple reason that, if I did, things would go oh so very south."
"How can you be so sure? Your semblance, does it actually deal with precognition of the like?" she faintly recalled him saying it wasn't. Was he truthful? That she didn't know.
"God no. From what I've figured out, my semblance is something much, much more fun. Though, I could say I have some precognitive knowledge."
"And you have no interest in telling us because of your plans. Whatever those may be," Glynda sighed helplessly as Parc smiled and nodded.
It was irksome knowing answers could be right in front of her yet so out of reach. Worse yet she couldn't help but feel he was being truthful, that whatever his knowledge was, was important. Enough that even Ozpin was unnerved by it or at least part of it.
"I'd be happy to give you a few hints here and there," Parc leaned deeper onto the table and locked eyes with Glynda, the expression he made like a hunter leading its prey into a trap, ready to pounce at any given moment unnerved her. For just a moment—one sheer moment, her heart slowed, and her hands grew clammy. The feeling quickly faded as she reigned those feelings away, they wouldn't be useful, not ever.
He held the gaze, made smirking snort then leaned away and rested against the back of his seat. "Anyways, we're not here to talk about me or Ozpin, or this war of yours, but you and your little fetish."
She stilled, gulped, she'd been awaiting this topic. Far from bated breaths and much, much farther away from anticipation.
"You don't need to worry about me saying anything about it, least, not to the students and most definitely not to Ozpin. Can't have him firing you. Doubtful he would considering he'd basically be amputating his right arm, but still, what get's you off should rightly be just that, what gets you off. Ozpin has no business butting into that topic."
"Just like you don't?" she practically growled his way though he only threw his head back and let out a single uproarious.
"Ha! Of course not. As I said, what get's you off, gets you off. Really, why I'm bringing this up, and well, my reason for bringing you here, is that… maybe you'd like help?" Her face froze still to be followed by confusion.
"Excuse me?" finally she exclaimed.
"Glynda, exhibitionism as you've learned, has risks. People figuring out something's wrong, seeing your unmentionables, things like that." She flushed. "now, I can feasibly help you lessen that worry to a minimum. Distract people, warn you when someone's coming, that type of thing. Maybe even help you with a few more of the exciting examples of public indecency." Crossing his fingers he went silent and watched Glynda's expression carefully.
"No. Pointless. After this I have no interest in doing something like that, again."
"really?" Parc was doubtful, "if you were really intent on doing that, why have you done it every single day since you interrupted me and Summer?"
Shivers ran across her spine, how did he? She thought going even redder, though her expression only souring like she was sucking on a sour candy.
"A fetish just isn't something you get rid of once you develop it. Considering though that you've only done the basics of exhibitionism, perhaps you could toss it away. At that point I guess there's no real reason to my bringing you here apart from having a nice dinner and a date." Swirling the wine, Parc brought it to his nose but smelt nothing but rancid grapes and ethanol. His nose for nose completely undeveloped. "But that would be awfully sad, wouldn't it? Personally, if I lost my dominant urges I would feel quite hollow. For you I expect you would feel more stressed no? That is why you started doing that, isn't it?"
It was, he knew it, she knew it. Being on the forefront of this shadow war, dealing with children and their hormones and childish acts frequently ripped away at her sanity, so much so she was fearing she was getting a few grey strands peaking out of her head here and there.
Didn't mean she was going to accept it.
"You like hearing yourself talk, don't you Evans?" anger billowed in her eyes and her teeth ground with the threat to shatter if she did so any harder. "There is a difference between what you do in the bedroom and what you do in public. What I did was a mistake that I will never make again. I realized the dangers of doing it and chose to ignore them until they came back to bite me on the ass. Now that they have, I will never do it again." Slamming her hands down on the table she raced out of her seat and onto her feet to lean halfway across the table. "Do you have any pictures or recordings of what I've done?"
Holding gaze with her, Parc slowly shook his head. The camera's were still on their way from the manufacturers. They'd be going up within the week.
Glynda huffed and straightened her back, "good. Then I'm going. Feel free to tell Ozpin, he won't believe you. That much I can promise you." Grabbing her purse from the back of her chair, Glynda marched off without romantics and burst through the milky glass doorway and into the stairwell leading to the ground floor where the clattering of plates could be heard rumbling through the restaurant.
Just as her foot touched the first step, a shadow came to block the light of the chandeliers hanging on the floor above and lead her gaze upwards to focus on the girl. Sheele she was called, dressed in a near mini skirt, the girl looked down at Glynda, carrying in her hands a small notebook likely to ask if there was anything else she wanted that another girl, Sayo, she was called, would bring them. It took not a second for Glynda to notice something off. Sheele had paused at the top of the stairs and was looking down to her with a blank confused look. Time, a few mere seconds would pass and Glynda would see it.
Beneath the girls skirt was nothing but puffy red, wet lips and a white elastic strap around her upper thigh. It bulged slightly and from the top a pink piece of wire rose and lead right between the slit of the girls crotch. The longer Glynda stared in shock, the louder the steady 'Vrrr' became.
To Sheele's right another woman appeared, a faunus girl with short blonde hair and a buxom form. She was dressed similarly to Sheele though her dress was a shade of yellow with black stripes down the sides. In her right hand she carried a platter of dishes but like Sheele, she wore nothing beneath the skirt and also had a pink string leading from a strap around her upper thigh and into her crotch.
"Hey Sheele, could you get the orders from table thirty-two, I'm stumped with those five upstairs and-" the faunus girls, cat tail swished, her speech halted and her head swivelled as if she could feel Glynda's eyes on her nethers. She turned her head and locked with Glynda's eyes. She didn't scream, but her lips curled up and she said it, a single word with an amused, uncaring tone that Glynda just couldn't comprehend.
"Pervert."