The Vale Voice - Chapter 1 (Patreon)

And we're off!  New week, new story.  This one is just the bees, but I hope you enjoy it!  

***

Mondays were a blur.  Well, every day was a blur as of late, but especially Mondays.  Not that Blake really noticed anymore.  After spending the past few months at this breakneck pace, she was accustomed to running into the week from the weekend.

Motion, commotion, devotion - that was her new mantra.  Keep moving, deal with the fervor as best as she could, and maintain her devotion to the cause.

That’s what this was all about, right?  That’s what this ceaseless work was for.  That’s why she stayed late at the office.  That’s why she lost sleep.  That’s why she spent most of her time searching for ways to succeed.

For what?  What was worth all this effort?  She could sum it up in a single word: Faunus.  

What were they?  Nothing, really.  Not in today’s world, at least.  They maintained their existence at the fringes of society but were never fully accepted into the greater human world.  They were subject to discrimination, inequality, intolerance, prejudice...even hatred - all for having the audacity to exist.

She was one of them.  It was her most defining characteristic - what people saw before anything else - and it was inseparable from any other trait she possessed (She was rather smart for a Faunus.  She was rather successful for a Faunus.).  But, more than any of that, it was inescapable.

She was a Faunus.  And, like every other Faunus she knew, her childhood was spent dreaming of a time when her life would be...better.  When she was nothing more than a toddler running around the cracked and unkempt playgrounds of her youth, she made a promise to herself that she would make a difference.  She would change the world for all Faunus.  Her children, if she ever had any, would grow up in a society far different from the one she knew.

Lofty as it may be, that goal led her to this Monday, where she sat in a small office in a crumbling building so far off the beaten path it quite possibly existed in a different realm entirely.  It was this goal that made her squint at the computer screen for hours on end while sorting through numbers, charts, and data that had hardly any relevance to what she actually hoped to accomplish.  It was this goal - equality for Faunus - that led her to The Vale Voice, the only Faunus-operated newspaper in Vale.  

She’d started out as nothing more than a junior journalist but, through a series of departures and rapid changes, somehow found herself in the position as editor-in-chief.  While still relatively new to the role, she’d already discovered that her expanded job duties included wrangling a group of five Faunus journalists together while struggling to keep the lights on and the ink flowing.  That last part had become more difficult recently, as the numbers and charts on the screen reminded her.

After sighing and rubbing the exhaustion from her eyes, she refocused on the screen.  The last issue had maintained a relatively flat number of copies sold and distributed, with a slight dip downward.  One issue wasn’t a problem, but when every issue over the past year and a half sank steadily lower, that little dip was a sign of worse times to come.

Their readership amongst Faunus had hardly budged, which meant it was only others - the humans - who were moving on.  Part of her scoffed at the trend and said ‘good riddance’ but, rationally, she knew that those were the readers they needed to reach.  If there was any hope of change, it was through humans understanding that Faunus should be considered equals - and listening to the words Faunus had to say.  If humans were unwilling to read what they wrote...would change ever be possible?

Her destiny hadn’t been becoming a fighter, or an orator, or a leader who could rally a thunderous crowd of supporters - but writing...writing was something she could do.  Words had the potential to change people.  They could bring the strongest man to tears and give the weakest child strength.  They could stir emotions, draw forth actions, or dispel suspicions.

She wasn’t one for crowds but with a pen on paper, or fingers on a keyboard, she could wage a war on her own.  These were her trenches, this was where she fought her battles.  But so far...she was losing.

The ringing phone jolted her from her muses and back to the small office she could practically call home.  After glancing at the time, she sighed and picked up the call.

“Blake Belladonna speaking.”

“Hello Blake.  This is Mr. Edmond…”

“Mr. Edmond, what a surprise,” she greeted him, even though the call wasn’t a shock - she’d dreaded it all morning.  “What can I help you with?”

“I was just calling to remind you that rent was due several weeks ago -”

“Right,” she replied to the unspoken question, dropping the act they always played.  “And I’ll have it for you in a few days, I promise.  We’re just waiting on payment from the distributors for the last issue.”

“Ok...I’ll expect it by the end of the week then.”

“Absolutely.”  Even though he couldn’t see her, she nodded and breathed a sigh of relief.  “By the end of the week.  I’m sorry for the delay.”

“It’s alright, Blake.  But...if you fall too far behind, I’ll have to find new tenants for that space.”

“I understand.  I’m hoping that won’t be the case.”

“Me too.  Have a wonderful day.”

As soon as the call disconnected, she dropped the phone in its cradle and resisted the urge to bury her head in her hands.  Unfortunately, one of the drawbacks of having an office with glass walls was that it offered little in terms of privacy from the main office space beyond.  She could draw the blinds, of course, but that seemed a bit too secretive in such a close-knit work environment.  So the blinds remained open, and she masked her emotions from her coworkers.

Mr. Edmond had always been lenient and reasonable, but she was afraid they neared the end of that patience.  There were only so many times they could pay the rent late before he decided that he preferred more timely tenants.  She could blame him for that...she would probably do the same if in his position.

When two knocks rattled the door to her office, she looked up and watched a hulking bear of a man squeezed through.

“Hi Brand.”  Temporarily putting aside her troubles, she focused instead on what he’d come to see her for.

“Hey Blake,” he greeted her with his low, grumbly voice that was probably intimidating to those who didn’t know him.  “Just wanted to remind you I’ll be out the next few days.  Taking the family to Ice-Land.”

“Oh, that’s right,” she replied, rubbing her eyes before attempting a small smile.  “Are the kids excited?”

“You bet.  They haven’t stopped talking about it for months.”  Reaching up, Brand scratched his slightly-wild short brown hair before running his fingers through the dark brown beard that nearly hid his smile.  “Zell’s all about adventure right now.  Said she wants to go on all the rides.”

“She’s pretty fearless, isn’t she?”

“Just like her mom,” he replied, but his proud grin dropped into a near scowl when a thought occurred to him.  “Hopefully there aren’t too many of...those folks...around.”

Understanding that ‘those folks’ meant ‘humans,’ who would undoubtedly be swarming an amusement park such as Ice-Land, Blake shook her head.

“I don’t know if you’ll be that lucky, but I hope you have a great time anyway.  Is Lola covering your pieces?”

“Got ‘em mostly done, but yeah she’ll put ‘em through.”

“Perfect,” she replied with a relieved smile.  “We’ll see you when you get back.”

With a nod, he ducked his head and left her office behind.  She watched him head back to his desk before refocusing on her own work, which now included taking into account his impending absence.  

Fortunately, he must have worked extra over the weekend to finish his articles for this week.  That was above and beyond what she expected from him but made her life substantially easier.  Victor was always willing to pick up a crime article or two, but his end results paled in comparison to Brand’s grittier, more knowledgeable style.

Thankfully, Brand had time to take a vacation with his family.  He deserved it for the extra work he’d put in recently.  Well...they all deserved a vacation at this point.  

Returning to her charts, she doubled her efforts to figure out some way to dig themselves out of this mess.  There had to be an answer somewhere...but, unfortunately, it looked like she needed a random strike of inspiration to find it.

After hardly enough time to formulate a complete thought, voices and movement drew her gaze.

“ - telling you, you’re wrong,” she heard as her office door swung open and two of her other coworkers strode inside.

“We’ll see,” came the soft reply, masked in an even softer accent.  Turning away from whatever she hoped to work on, she focused on their problem instead.

“Velvet...Sun...what is it this time?” 

“We need you to settle a debate,” Velvet explained while holding up two photographs.  “Which one do you prefer?  I like this one -”  She waved the one in her right hand.  “But Sun wants to use this one.”  When she waved the photograph in her left hand, she also bent one long, velvety ear in Sun’s direction.

Leaning forward, Blake took both pictures from Velvet before laying them flat on her desk to examine.

“What’s the article about again?” she asked while studying each in turn.

“It’s the peewee baseball championships!” Sun burst out, unable to remain silent any longer.  “Hers is too artistic - we don’t need artistic!  It’s a bunch of kids playing baseball, and one team happens to win even though they both try really hard not to.”

“Just because they’re bad at baseball doesn’t mean they should be poorly represented,” Velvet argued.  “If anything, isn’t that more of a reason to make sure they shine?”

“There’s no ‘shining’ in peewee sports - they’re covered in dirt all the time.”

Having heard both arguments, Blake glanced between the two choices one more time before reaching a decision.

“He’s right, Velvet.  Your choice is clearly better from a photography standpoint, but this type of article could use a more...typical...celebration picture.”

Her choice made, Blake pushed the photos back to Velvet.  Picking them up and turning them around, Velvet gave them another good once over before slowly nodding.

“Alright…” she agreed.  “But I’m keeping the other to use later.”

“That’s a great idea,” Blake replied as Velvet walked out with a smile.  She and Sun squabbled every once in a while over differences in design.  Fortunately, she was easy to work with and took suggestions (and defeat) really well.  Sun, on the other hand...

Running a hand through his perpetually-spiky blonde hair, Sun hung back in the office and flashed a big grin.

“What're you up to?”

“Just working,” Blake answered, sensing his tone and picking up one of the pages she’d printed earlier.

“Cool cool,” he said before sitting on the edge of her desk.  His long golden tail casually curled up and down while he sat there - a modest distraction Blake could live without.  “So I was thinking...if you’re free tonight, maybe I could take you out to a ball game?”

“Sorry, I’m going to be working late,” she replied - although she only made the decision to stay late at that very instant.  Deflecting felt like a nicer way to avoid his more-than-friendly invitations than coming right out and saying that she just wasn’t interested in him in that way. 

Chuckling at the response, he swiped a pen off her desk and tossed it up in the air before catching it.

“One of these days you’ll say yes!” he joked, clearly undisturbed by her answer.  Since he didn’t take the hint, she might need to be more direct one day, but...she didn’t have the emotional energy to handle that right now.

“Are you covering that big game this week?” she asked as a change of subject while watching him toss and catch the pen again.  

“Do I have to?”

“Sun.”  

Sighing at her scolding tone, he tossed the pen in the air again. 

“I don’t get why we have to cover that stuff!” he whined.  “The other papers will get it.”

“Because it’s a big event that everyone will expect to read -” she began to explain but stopped when he nodded.  He understood the reasoning - he just loved to complain.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.  Human sports are so boring though.  All the players are exactly the same - what fun is that??”

“Not much we can do about it.”

Blowing a breath through his lips, he tossed the pen in the air once again, but this time caught it with his tail before dumping it on her desk and standing up.

“Fine.  I’ll cover the boring baseball game.  And the boring soccer game.  And the boring -”

“I get it,” Blake interrupted, holding up one hand to stop his parting argument.  Grinning, he backed towards the door and winked before opening it.

“As long as you feel my pain!”

Even though she shook her head at the response, she did feel a bit of the pain Sun referred to.  They didn’t have the staff or resources of the larger papers, yet they covered most of the same events.  And, in her opinion, they covered those events better, with a less biased lens.  But there was good journalism, and there was telling people what they wanted to hear.  One of those led to the rather sad numbers gracing her computer screen…

If only she could figure out a way to boost their readership without compromising their values, and without pandering to humans for their charity.  Nothing would be worse than being seen as the struggling Faunus paper that needed help - they didn’t need help, they needed...understanding.

Hearing a soft knock on the still-open door, she nearly sighed at the third interruption in the course of a few minutes.  

“May I have a few moments of your time?”

Giving up on her other work entirely, she beckoned Victor into the room - already knowing what he wanted to speak to her about but asking “What is it?” regardless.

“About this correction -”  When he extended his most recent article towards her, she willingly took it and looked at the circled word he gestured to.  “What’s wrong with ‘pusillanimous’ in this context?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” she replied.  “It’s a fine word and works in that context.”

After returning the page, she watched his sharp eyes narrow while poring over the article.  Every blue line she’d made had been dissected and weighed before he came in to defend his intelligence - the same process they repeated each week without fail.

“If it’s the proper word -”

“Victor,” she cut in with a patient head shake she’d perfected over time.  “We both know the word is right, but that doesn’t mean we should use it.  We all know your vocabulary is massive - I’m positive you can use that intellect of yours to find a suitable replacement.  And one that a majority of our readers will understand.”

The compliment made him stand straighter, push his wire-rimmed glasses onto the crook of his nose, and lose some of his bristle.  If he had feathers, they surely would have unruffled and fallen back into sleek form.

“I was only attempting to enlighten those willing to expand their minds,” he replied.  “Learning new vocabulary is the most basic of starting points.”

“I know.  That’s why I left ‘androcracy’ and ‘vitriolic.’”

Taking in the new information, Victor let out a soft ‘whooo’ as he exhaled.  Then he studied Blake - reading her for clues - before weighing his options on what to say next.  Should he argue for ‘pusillanimous’ and risk losing two of his other precious words?  Or should he compromise and consider the inclusion of two out of three as a success?

“I will come up with a more widely-recognized word,” he finally agreed with a determined nod.

“Great.  Thank you for being so understanding.”  When Blake smiled, Victor nodded and left the office to accomplish his task.  Watching the short man - maybe only half of Brand’s height - return to his desk, she caught Lola’s eyes, and they shared a knowing shake of their heads.  Lola’s ears flicked to the side as she did so, while her long, pointed horns swayed gracefully above her head.

If anyone in this office was low maintenance, it was Lola.  It ran counter to everything Blake expected, seeing as how the gazelle Faunus was in charge of entertainment.  However, Lola preferred to keep the drama of celebrity contained to her articles - not the workplace.

Hopeful that the interruptions were done for now, Blake returned to her own task - searching through the statistics and wishing a clue would jump out at her.  

Sometimes, she wondered whether she was even qualified to go through these numbers, seeing as how she was a writer, not a marketer or businesswoman.  Unfortunately, she’d been forced to wear more hats than she thought possible ever since the previous editor-in-chief retired and moved to Atlas.  Without his guidance, it was solely up to her to chart their course from here on out.

Obviously, their most pressing need was money, and readership paid only a tiny portion of their operating expenses.  The real money came from companies willing to pay to reach those readers.  With more readers came more competition for the limited advertising space, which meant more advertising dollars.  Right now, they were severely lacking in either.

Still, she held onto hope that this problem would change.  They just needed to find companies willing to give them a chance - although, that would be a temporary solution, at best.  If their numbers kept declining as they had been, even the most Faunus-friendly companies would be forced to pull their advertisements.

It was a bandaid, but at least it gave them some time.  The cure lurked out there somewhere - if she was ever going to find it, she needed all the time she could get.

Resigned to what the numbers and graphs told her, she pulled up a list of Vale businesses she found last week and picked up where she left off - sending emails to whatever marketing departments she could find.  By now, the process was an assembly line of sorts - find the company’s website, find an email, alter a few fields on the template she’d created, send, and move on.

Bursts of laughter and bits of conversation filtered through the walls to her ears, but she hardly paused her work.  Noticing Brand stand and stretch to his full, towering height, she barely broke pace to give him a quick wave before he left the office with his tattered brown briefcase in tow.  Victor and Lola must have slipped out sometime after without her notice because the next time she happened to turn away from her computer only Sun and Velvet remained.  They were both preparing to leave, however, but first Velvet tapped on Blake’s door before quietly opening it.

“Don’t stay too late.”

“I won’t,” Blake replied, even though the look Velvet gave in return said that she suspected it was a lie.  “Really.  I just want to send a few more emails first.”

“Ok...well, see you tomorrow.”

“Have a goodnight,” Blake said before Velvet walked out, leaving the door open since the office would soon be empty.

“See ya, Blake!” Sun called out before leaving with Velvet.  After sending them both a wave, Blake went back to her list.  Just a few more, then she’d call it a day.  

Some of these companies were reaches.  Some were too small to consider any type of marketing budget.  She sent them emails regardless.  The only companies spared her slightly beseeching email were those that she already knew were aligned against Faunus in some way or the other.  Those companies were easy to find, as their owners or managers went out of the way to make headlines with absurd quotes such as: “Well, we’d hire a Faunus if we found a good one.”

That was one of the mentalities she strove to root out, so she worked steadily and methodically through the list.  Only after completing a full page did she lean back in her chair and stretch her arms above her head.  

That took about an hour longer than she’d expected.  It was now after dinnertime, which explained the gnawing in her stomach, but she was satisfied with the progress made.

Deciding that it was past time to throw in the towel for the day, she shut off the computer and packed up her belongings.  Hopefully, she would hear back from some of the companies as early as tomorrow morning.  Of course, the earlier the response, the more likely the answer was a flat ‘no.’

Slinging her bag over one shoulder, she walked out of her office and through the two rows of desks in the main office.  After making it to the exit, she paused to turn off the lights before stepping into the hall and locking everything behind her.  Only when positive that the door was locked did she head to the stairwell and take the two flights down to the lobby.  

The small office building was in a predominantly Faunus area, and The Vale Voice shared the premises with a variety of other small businesses - a dentist’s office, an artist’s studio, and a construction company only some of them.  At this time of day, however, it seemed like she was the only one still working.

Pushing the front door open and stepping into the chilly evening air beyond, she hugged her jacket closer and set off for home.  With the sun disappearing and night firmly taking hold, her pace was quick while she stuck to the shadows cast between the buildings and the streetlights.  Not that she felt particularly unsafe - this area was safer than the general public gave it credit for - but she preferred to remain undetected if possible.

Office buildings soon gave way to apartment complexes, scattered homes, and the occasional restaurant filled with voices celebrating the end of another long workday.  Even if she wanted to stop and partake in such festivities, she never felt like she had time to spend on such frivolity.  So onward she walked. 

After turning the corner at the end of the block, she glanced across the street to the small park where a group of Faunus played thunderball on a cement court with cracks and weeds to go along with the faded lines.  The nets had frayed long ago, but the metal rims were still there for them to use - which they did with joviality she must have lost with age, if she’d ever had it at all.  Watching as what could only be a leopard Faunus easily leapt over a crowd of blockers, she smiled before turning away and leaving their shouts and laughter behind.  

Having reached the neighborhoods, signs of life cropped up all around her.  An elderly couple walked along the sidewalk hand-in-hand - their slow, methodical pace speaking to their age and increased patience with the world.  A raccoon in a rush jogged past Blake - carrying a large paper bag in his arms and hardly noticing her presence while passing by.  Behind the raccoon was a middle-aged woman in a suit, carrying a briefcase and running one hand through her long rabbit ears as if trying to straighten the day out of them. 

As the two of them were about to cross paths, an engine roared nearby before wheels squealed in protest sliding around the corner.  Concerned by the loud noise, Blake looked behind her and spotted an expensive black car speeding down the empty road with zero care or interest in public safety.  On the straight stretch of road, the driver pressed the accelerator even further and caught everyone’s attention with the deafening engine propelling the speeding bullet by.  It wasn’t until the vehicle pulled even with Blake that she noticed the back window was rolled down, and an object flew out of it an instant later.

“Go find another forest to live in!” the passenger shouted as the empty soda cup narrowly missed the woman walking in front of her.  The cup hardly hit the ground before the driver gunned it and sent the car shooting off down the street - the sound of raucous laughter somehow making it over the noise of the engine.

In the moment of stunned silence that followed, Blake and the rabbit Faunus briefly locked eyes - both coming to terms with what just happened.  After the two of them shared their unspoken grievances, the woman reached down, picked up the cup, and threw it into the nearest garbage can.  Without a word - not a single complaint other than the look she gave Blake - she carried on as if nothing happened.  

But her pace was quicker than before.  And her ears held a slight droop they hadn’t before.  Those ears reminded Blake so much of Velvet, it was hard not to see a bit of her friend in those disheartened eyes and downcast stature.  Velvet would probably react the same way - no complaints about the insults and ridicule hurled at her for no reason other than the ears which should stand tall atop her head.

Even on ‘their’ side of town, where Faunus were the majority, humans still felt the need to stop by and remind them that they weren’t welcome anywhere.

Sighing at the thought, Blake spurred her feet back into motion.  She was too tired to be angry, but underlying resentment simmered in her chest.  With her apartment building up ahead, she was simply grateful to be home.  Although, she’d be back at the office before she knew it.

Letting herself into the rundown lobby - the wood floor at one point sparkling and new, but by now nearly worn through from years of watching Faunus lives pass by - she took the single set of stairs to the second floor while rummaging for her keys in her bag.  Exiting the staircase, she walked the few steps to her door and stuck the key into the lock.  Twisting the handle and key in a perfect unison she learned years ago, the lock unstuck and door swung open to reveal her humble home.  It wasn’t much, but she didn’t need much.  

Dropping her bag onto the round dining table that could only comfortably seat three, she grabbed some leftovers from the fridge and reheated them.  She’d probably missed a meal or two today, but it was difficult to remember when time passed in the blink of an eye.

Warm food in hand, she grabbed her bag and carried both to the small desk sitting in front of the only window in this section of the apartment.  Dropping the bag on the floor by the chair, she sat down and started up her computer to check her emails while eating.  No replies yet, but it was still too early to expect a response.

Setting down her food, she leaned over and pulled her phone out of her bag.  Finding a small blue light flashing on the front of it, she unlocked the screen and found a missed call from her mom, along with a voice message.  Clicking on the message, she took another bite to eat and listened to it play.

“Hi sweetie, working late again?  Give me a call when you’re free.  Love you.”

Lowering the phone from her ear and staring at the screen, she tried to decide whether or not to call back right away.  She didn’t want to speak with anyone right now, but if she didn’t call soon her mom would worry...

Taking a deep breath, she clicked the redial button and waited.  On the third ring, the call picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hey Mom, it’s me.”

“Oh, Blake!  I was starting to worry about you.”

Blake rolled her eyes at the reply.

“I’m fine, Mom.  Just got home from work.”

“You just got home?  Isn’t it a little late?”

“I had a lot of things to finish today.”

“They know how to keep you busy, don’t they?  Is everything ok?”

“Things are great.”  Blake forced a smile with the response so that her tone sounded more uplifted than she felt.  “You know how it is - lots to do, so I’m never bored.”

“That’s great, honey.  I know how much you love your job, but make sure to keep a good work-life balance.  Get out every once in a while and do something fun.  Or, you know, find someone -”

She immediately groaned when she saw where the conversation was headed.

“I’m fine, Mom,” she replied with a hint of a whine in her voice.  “I don’t have time to see anyone right now.  At least, not until things at work slow down.”

“Well…”

“How’s Dad doing?” she cut in before her mom offered to set her up with whatever new Faunus boy had walked into the store that week.  She could only imagine how those conversations went…‘Why, aren’t you handsome?  Would you like to date my daughter?’

“Oh you know him,” her mom replied with a chuckle.  “Always busy with something.”

Hearing her dad yell something in the background, Blake smiled.  “Glad to hear some things never change.  Tell him I say ‘hello.’”

“I will.  But when are you coming back to see us?”

“Soon,” she replied on instinct.  “It’s a little hard to take time off right now, but I will as soon as I can.”

“Ok...we miss you.”

“I miss you too.”  Hearing the vague sadness in her mom’s voice, Blake felt a small spike of remorse dig into her chest.  “I should go now though.  I have some emails to send out.”

“Don’t work too hard...it’s ok to have some fun once in a while.”

“I know, I know.  I will, promise.”

“Good.  You take after your father sometimes - always so serious.”

Laughing at the comparison, a genuine smile sprang onto her lips.

“Obviously, you’re forgetting how much he likes the lawn sprinklers,” she replied, and grinned when she heard her mom’s laughter.  “It’s hard to think of him as serious after that.”

“He does love those damn things, doesn’t he?” her mom asked in return - her teasing smirk practically visible through the phone.  “We all need that one thing though - something that makes us smile no matter what.”

“Well I don’t exactly have a lawn here, so I guess I’ll have to find something else I can stare at for hours.”

“It doesn’t have to be a thing, you know.  It could be someone -”

Groaning again, Blake waved her free hand in an effort to make her mom stop.  “I get it.  You want me to find someone - duly noted.  Thanks, Mom.”

“I’m just saying, Sweetie - there are plenty of nice Faunus boys who come into the store.  Some of them I wouldn’t mind staring at for hours -”

“Mom!”  Hearing her mom’s laugh, Blake tried to temper her embarrassment at the teasing.  “Ok, I really should get back to work now, before you decide to overshare some more.”

“Just having a little fun,” her mom replied, clearly pleased with the turn in the conversation.  “We hardly hear from you, after all.”

Regret built as a result of the statement.  Although that wasn’t her mom’s intent, Blake knew all too well how sparsely she’d contacted her parents over the past few months.

“I’ll be better about that,” she promised.  “I’ll call you soon, ok?  Love you.”

“Love you too, Blake.  Have a good night.”

“You too,” she replied on autopilot before ending the call and setting her phone on the desk with a sigh.

Her parents thought she was off changing the world with her writing, blissfully unaware that she stopped writing a long time ago.  There just weren’t enough hours in the day to write and finish the other work thrust upon her plate.  If they found some stable advertisers and got back on sound financial footing, maybe she could go back to writing.  Until then...there were more pressing concerns.

After checking her emails again (still no responses), she opened the last article she tried to work on and found a partially-written mess with only a vague outline.  Skimming the first sentence of each paragraph, she could hardly recall what her purpose was for this piece.  What argument was she trying to make?  

Staring at the blinking cursor, she couldn’t find the willpower to focus her mind on it.  All she could do was wonder if any of the emails she sent would make a difference.  If there were no responses, what would they do next?  There were only so many options when it came to journalism...and unfortunately, almost everything depended on securing advertisers with solid or growing readership.

Giving up on the hopeless task of writing, she closed the article and pulled the other newspapers out to read instead.  She read them all, if only to see what stories were out there.  

There were two main papers in Vale - The Vale Sentinel and The Vale Independent.  They were large companies with giant subscription numbers, which commanded top dollar for advertising space.  They competed with each other for readers and probably didn’t consider The Vale Voice to be anything of a threat.

Which...it wasn’t.  With a much smaller staff and budget, The Voice was published only weekly - appearing on newsstands every Saturday morning.  It was more of a consolidated news report, covering all of the biggest events from the week and presenting it in a smaller format.  Maybe it was a bit delayed in pushing out major news, but most people didn’t read the paper until the weekend anyway.

Unfortunately, their status as a Faunus-run company probably hurt them the most.

Hearing the soft ‘ding’ of an arriving email, she quickly turned away from the article she’d been reading and checked it.  But it was only a weekly newsletter - one of the many she subscribed to for companies she followed.  After giving it a glance and filing it away, she went back to today’s edition of The Vale Sentinel and struggled to figure out what she was doing wrong.

They wrote articles like this - they wrote articles better than this - so why was The Voice failing while these other two companies thrived?  The only thing she could think of, the only thing that made them different, was the same reason why they had trash thrown at them while they walked home.

Those instances of intolerance only added fuel to her fire.  Maybe she wasn’t a grand orator who could convince people with a speech or a wealthy billionaire who could buy change, but she could focus on what she was able to do.

She could save The Voice.  They could be a tiny beacon of hope for Faunus.  But right now, they just needed a little help...