Please Note:
The following story contains massive spoilers for Season 3 of RWBY. If you have not caught up, you have only yourself to blame if you get spoiled. Now, sit back, relax, and enjoy the adventures of the characters of "Archer" and "RWBY" in…
TEAM RCHR
Chapter 1
The azure sky and puffy, white clouds surrounded the solitary air ship as it flew lazily through the air. On the horizon, a plethora of other flying ships hovered above the city of Vale, Beacon Academy, and beside the floating Amity Colosseum. Inside the air ship, the members of ISIS sat, passing the time until arrival. Some were handling it better than others.
"Ughhhhh this is taking foreverrrrrrrr," groaned Cheryl Tunt. "Are we there yet?"
"For the sixtieth time, Cheryl, No!" snapped Malory Archer. "If you ask again, I'm docking 5% of your pay."
"But this stupid flying boat is stupid slow! Couldn't we have taken a real plane?" moaned Cheryl, sliding half off her seat and on to the floor.
"I'm pretty sure this place doesn't even have real planes," added Pam Poovey, as she gorged herself on the complimentary snacks provided for the group.
"Don't you have some glue you should be swallowing?" asked Ray Gillette, as he paged absently through a magazine of Faunus models.
"I ran out like 3 hours ago, but thanks for reminding me," hissed Cheryl.
"You know, you could all be reviewing our intel," Lane Kane pointed out, as she sat away from the group, paging through a mountain of documents with Cyril Figgis. "ISIS has never worked with any of these kingdoms; this is a huge undertaking."
"Yeah, Remnant isn't anything like… well, anything we know," said Cyril. "I'm… honestly, a little foggy on how we even got here in the first place?"
"I wouldn't think about it," chimed in Dr. Algernop Krieger. He was sitting opposite, reading another magazine on weaponry of the world of Remnant. "Seriously. Pretty sure it'll give you an aneurysm."
"It doesn't matter anyway," said Malory, taking a sip of her gin and tonic. "Money is money, and ISIS could potentially be settling into a lucrative agreement with the Atlas military. I won't have you all cocking this up!"
The ship lurched violently downward. Everyone yelled and grabbed for something to hold onto. Cheryl screamed loudly and continuously, her screams becoming hysterical laughter quickly after. Pam slapped her. Malory, now wearing half of her cocktail, groan-sighed.
"Will someone please go to the cockpit and find out what the hell that was about?" she asked.
"Three guesses," said Lana. "C'mon, Cyril, let's go get him."
Lana and Cyril left the small passenger compartment and travelled up the narrow walkway to the cockpit area. They could hear the sounds of struggle well before they reached the door. Predominantly, swearing and threats of violence. Lana and Cyril exchanged a look, rolled their eyes, and pressed the door button.
The cockpit door slid open, and, sure enough, they found Sterling Archer standing near the wheel. Four crew members had to hold him back, as he thrashed drunkenly at the controls, a bottle of whiskey in one hand.
"I wanna fly the boat!" yelled Archer, shoving one of the crew members off.
"Will someone PLEASE subdue him?!" snarled the captain of the thing.
"His aura hasn't been activated yet; we could kill him!" protested a crewmember.
Archer laughed. "My aura? What is this… uh… Miss Cleo's Ship of… Astrolo… damn it, I had something for this!"
"Archer!" snarled Lana. "Can we please get through one mission without you trying to kill us?!"
"Lana!" cried Archer. "Tell these dicks to let me fly!"
"Archer, how drunk are you?" asked Cyril.
"By what measurement? 'Cuz like… I'd probably literally destroy a breathalyzer if I took one right now," said Archer, taking another swig from his bottle for good measure.
"How did you even get alcohol? This is a dry ship!" exclaimed the captain.
"It's this new thing called, 'I brought it from home'?" said Archer, smirking at the captain. "Seriously, the security for this is extremely concerning. You don't even have TSA."
Lana sighed, rubbing her eyes. "Captain, I am so sorry. I'll be taking him back to the compartment now; we'll be sure to leave you alone."
"Good. We will be arriving within the hour," said the captain.
Lana walked over to Archer, who finally stopped struggling. He offered her the bottle, with a sloppy grin. She grabbed his shoulder, and gave it a firm squeeze. Archer went to his knees almost immediately, dropping the bottle in the process.
"Ow, ow, OW, LANA!" Archer said. "You're hurting me!"
"Good. We're even, then," said Lana. "Your mother wants to brief us before we land, and since I know you didn't bother reading the intel, you might actually want to listen for once."
"When have I ever wanted to listen to intel, Lana?" asked Archer.
Back in the main cabin area, the ISIS team sat in front of one of the windows, which was displaying a prepared message about the Vyvtal Festival and the Tournament that went along with it. As usual, half the group wasn't paying attention.
"During the tournament, Huntsmen and Huntresses in training enter into combat, to test each other's talents, hone their skills, and win glory for their Academy and Kingdom," the narrator explained. Scenes of battle from current and past Vytal Festival Tournaments, including the RWBY/ABRN fight.
"What is this, some sort of crazy Hunger Games?" asked Archer.
"No, Archer, this is their training," said Cyril. "They are training to fight the Grimm, along with-."
Archer laughed. "The Grimm? We're basically going to train Little Red Riding Hood to survive her own fairy tale? We're used to fighting real villains: drug runners, terrorists—."
"Funny you should mention that," said Lana. "There are terrorists here. The White Fang is a group made up predominantly of Faunus, and their goal is—."
Archer laughed harder, nearly doubled over in his utter glee. "Wait, wait, did you say Faunus? Mother, is this some kind of joke?"
Malory stared at him. "Sterling, when have you ever known me to play jokes?"
"Well, actually—,"
"She's serious, Archer. Faunus are part-animal humans, or humans with animal—," Cyril tried to explain.
"God, these Millennials and their PC-friendly words. How about we just call them 'furries' like everyone else?" Archer argued.
"Ugh. I don't trust them. Their scaley skin and their… horny… horns…" muttered Cheryl, glaring at Ray's magazine.
"Wait, so, what do they need us for?" wondered Pam.
Malory drained her glass. "It's none of your concern, Pam, but I've had just enough gin to stop caring. We've been enlisted by one Professor Ozpin to perform a wide variety of jobs, including espionage, protection, and, if need be, apprehension of a small criminal organization who is posing a threat to Beacon Academy, and therefore the stability of the entire region."
"Okay, but… what are we protecting?" pressed Pam.
"The intel didn't say," said Ray. "Just says we're gonna get told when we get here. Something about utmost secrecy."
"Damn," said Pam, snapping her fingers in frustration.
The intercom above them buzzed. "We'll be arriving shortly. Please take your seats for landing."
"Finally!" exclaimed Cheryl. "I was about to die of boredom."
"At least this isn't as slow as that stupid blimp we had to fly that one time," said Pam.
"Can we not bring that up? We're still facing sanctions from Wales over that whole fiasco," said Cyril.
"And what a loss that is," said Malory, sarcastically.
The airship finally landed at the crowded docks on the cliff's edge by Beacon. With it being midday, a majority of the campus was in the colosseum, but the fairgrounds were still fairly busy with lunch-goers. The ISIS agents left the airship, each carrying at least two of Malory's bags. They took in the surroundings, most predominately the tall turrets of Beacon Academy, topped with the Emerald tower reaching high above all the others.
Standing at the edge of the dock, they found Professor Ozpin, and what they could only assume was his blonde assistant. Ozpin gave them a warm smile, though the blonde assistant regarded them coldly as they approached.
"You all must be from ISIS. I do hope you enjoyed your voyage here; I'm sure it was along one," said Ozpin.
"It took crazy long, and it was crazy boring, but—," Cheryl began. Pam elbowed her in the ribs. "Ow! What the shit, Pam?!"
"Ignore her. The Help can be quite irksome to deal with," said Malory. She looked at the blonde. "I'm sure you understand."
The blonde visibly blanched at this, her emerald eyes shining with indignation. "I am not the Help, ma'am. My name is Glynda Goodwitch; I'm a Professor at Beacon."
Ray cackled with laughter. "And let me guess, your best friend is named Elphie?" Everyone stared at him, until his laughter died down. "Wait, really? No one?"
"Ignore him as well," said Malory, turning to the group. "In fact, all of you shut up until we reach Professor Ozpin's office."
Ozpin chuckled. "You seem like a lively bunch. Though, it does appear you have… quite a staggering amount of luggage. Perhaps I should let you see to your lodgings first?"
"Nonsense, dear, we must begin our investigations at once," said Malory, taking Ozpin by the arm and allowing him to lead her away. "Lead on."
Malory and Ozpin walked away, leaving the others to struggle under the weight of their combined luggage. Their boss ignored the groans and moans of protest from the ISIS agents.
"She always does this," said Lana. "Every time."
"I don't wanna hear it," said Pam, who was balancing a dozen bags on her arms and back. "I'm sick of being treated like a pack mule."
"Hey, this nick was always here, right?" said Krieger, looking at one of the bags he was carrying.
"That better not be talking I hear!" yelled Malory, from up in front of them.
The other ISIS agents fell silent. Glynda sighed and held her head in her hand. She pulled her riding crop out and spun it at the ISIS agents, who all watched bemusedly. Then, suddenly, every single piece of Malory's luggage and equipment they'd been carrying floated into the air, meeting at the center in a solid mass of red-and-black. The ISIS agents stared open-mouthed at her.
"Holy. Shit. Snacks," was all Pam could manage.
"She's literally a witch," whispered Ray. "Dukes…"
"Jeezy-petes!" Cyril exclaimed. "How… what… but…"
"So, uh… there's… there's an explanation for this, right?" stuttered a stunned Lana.
"It's just my semblance," said Glynda. "Please, follow me."
She turned to follow Oz and Malory, the mass of luggage floating along behind her. The others, still stunned at the display. Archer produced another bottle, and took a swig.
"Archer, why are you still drinking?" complained Lana.
"Well, Lana, a woman who reminds me far too strikingly of a particularly traumatizing boarding school custodian just levitated my Mother's collective 700 pounds of luggage into the air as if it were nothing. I don't know what's about to go down, but I sure as hell know I can't face it sober," said Archer, after finishing the pull. He offered the bottle out to the others. "Anyone else want in on this?"
There was a pause, and then the others all rushed forward to take a drink. The bottle was empty in 30 seconds.
After entering Beacon Academy and riding the elevator to the very tallest tower, the ISIS agents emerged into a sparsely-decorated office. Directly above them, through green-tinted glass, a giant clockwork of cogs spun. The window, engraved with a clock, gave uninterrupted views of the surrounding area. A mechanically-themed desk by the window, along with several other small tables and chairs, were all the only furniture there was. Malory was already sitting behind the desk, freshly cocktailed, as Ozpin stood next to her, making small talk. Glynda set the luggage carefully into one corner, before crossing to stand next to Ozpin.
"Good of you to finally arrive. Professor Ozpin and I were just speaking about his beautiful school and tower," Malory simpered. "Professor Ozpin, I'm delighted to introduce you to the multi-talented field agents of ISIS."
"Really, Mother? Agents, this time, and not the help?" said Archer.
"Can it," hissed Malory. She turned back to Ozpin, smiling widely again. "Professor—oh, pardon me, it is Doctor isn't it—excuse me: I believe you said you would explain the details of our mission upon our arrival. We are all ears."
"Thank you for your timely arrival. Security is already heightened at Beacon due to the Vytal Festival and Tournament, but there are other dangers present," said Ozpin. "However, we are currently awaiting the arrival of our… let's just call him our own personal intelligence agent."
Glynda cut her eyes to Ozpin at that, something the ISIS field agents noticed immediately. Lana, Archer, and Ray exchanged looks, but didn't say anything.
"I see. Well, if you insist on waiting, I suppose I can't stop you," said Malory, shrugging. "Perhaps we should retire until you—."
"However, there are basic things you all need to know if you are to be of use to us. Have any of you been briefed on auras, semblances, and our styles of weaponry?" asked Ozpin.
"There was some mention of it in the intel you sent us, but the explanations were a little… vague," said Cyril.
"Those douchebags on the airship said something about my aura, and how it wasn't like… turned on?" said Archer. "Phrasing."
"And didn't you say something about a semblance when you took the bags earlier, witch-lady?" asked Pam.
"Indeed I did," said Glynda. "First thing's first, though. We will need to release your auras."
Glynda walked to Archer, standing directly in front of him. Archer's muscles stiffened, and he actually withdrew from her slightly.
"Uh, y-yeah, can I, uh, help you?" he stammered.
"If you would all join hands, please, I will unlock your aura," said Glynda.
The ISIS agents stared at each other, bemused. One by one, they stood up and joined hands. They looked at Malory who remained seated.
"I'm not getting up," she said.
The group sighed and readjusted so that Malory could be included in the group. Once they were ready, Glynda stood in front of Archer again, and he gulped as she gently placed one hand on the side of his face, and the other over his heart.
"Relax, and close your eyes. All of you," she said, her voice softening.
The ISIS agents did as they were told, though at times one or another would squint and peak out, trying to see the others. Glynda closed her eyes as well, and a white light rose off of her, and a quiet ringing sound filled the room.
"What the hell?" asked Archer. "Is my tinnitus acting up again?"
"Shh, relax. Listen to my voice," said Glynda. "For it is in passing that achieve immortality, through this we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all. Infinite and distance and unbound by death, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee."
The light surrounded the ISIS agents, and each gasped in shock, pleasure, or fear as the feeling washed over them. When it was done, they broke apart, feeling their own bodies, and staring at each other.
"Your aura is a power that protects you, waylaying harm and boosting your own abilities. It is a vital component in our continued efforts against the Grimm. All of us have an aura, and through training, we can utilize it to perform great feats," said Ozpin.
"So when you say protect, what do you mean? Is it like a shield of some variety?" asked Krieger, as he poked at a very-annoyed-looking Ray.
"Yes. When you suffer harm, your aura can absorb the damage your body would have otherwise suffered, until it has been depleted. This can leave you vulnerable," said Glynda.
"Oh, so it's like Hit Points in a video game. Got it," said Krieger.
"I… suppose you could look at it that—"
BAM!
"AUGH!" cried Cyril, knocked off his feet and on his back.
The other agents hit the floor as well, screaming and cursing. All except Archer, who stood above them, his gun still smoking, laughing near hysterically.
"Hahaha Cyril! You should have seen the look on your face! Bahahaha!" Archer doubled over with laughter again.
"What the actual SHIT Archer?!" snarled Lana. "You shot him?!"
"I-I I j-just had to t-test his aw-aura," said Archer, in between his laughter. "Cyril! You dead, buddy?"
"N-no, just in a fair bit of pain," said Cyril, pulling himself to his knees and feeling his chest.
"Sterling!" chastised Malory. "Put that away!"
"Mother, don't you realize what this means?" asked Archer, excitedly. "We're invincible! Bullets can't stop us!"
"Technically, they can, but only after your aura is depleted," said Ozpin. Glynda stood protectively in front of him, her riding crop pointed at Archer.
"See? Look, it's awesome!" said Archer.
He turned and shot Pam directly in the face.
"OW! Asshole," said Pam, holding her nose. "I feel like I just got kicked by a stallion."
"ENOUGH, Archer!" Lana snarled, pulling out her guns.
Archer turned the gun on her. "Lana, don't do it. I'll actually shoot you this time."
"Drop your weapon!" Cyril hissed, pulling his gun out and aiming at Archer, though shakily.
"WOO Mexican Standoff!" shouted Cheryl, ripping Ray's gun out of his holster and pointing it wildly at the others.
Glynda waved her riding crop at them, and the ISIS agents' guns were ripped out of their hands, hovering out of reach near the emerald ceiling.
"Aww," complained Cheryl.
"That. Will. Be. Enough," said Glynda, her voice chilled like a tundra. "I think it's best you all take time to cool off. Dr. Ozpin?"
The Headmaster sighed and shook his head. "I fear Glynda may be correct. Perhaps you could all take the rest of the day to explore Vale and Beacon? I will send for you when the rest of our comrades arrive. Until then, please try and keep a low profile."
"That means no shooting each other!" Malory chastised her agents. "I mean it, Sterling; I don't care how invincible you feel."
"Yeah, Archer. God, been here five seconds, and you're already blowing our cover…" grumbled Ray, snatching his gun out of the air before Cheryl could grab it again.
"Can we get something to eat? I'm starving," complained Pam.
"What else is new?" grumbled Malory. "As long as you stay in town, and don't cause trouble, I literally couldn't care less what you do."
Ozpin, Glynda, and the ISIS staff left the office, rode back to the ground, and took a quick ride to one of the nicest hotels in all of Vale. Once they were settled in their rooms (thanks to a few flicks of Glynda's riding crop [twice to unpack everyones' bags and once to crack Archer over the wrist for trying to steal some of his mother's liquor]), Ozpin and Glynda left the ISIS folks in the hotel lobby.
"Well, as far as first impressions go, I have to say that was probably one of our better examples," said Cyril.
"Sadly, yes," said Malory. "I need a drink."
"You and me both," said Ray. "What's the next step?"
"Reconnaissance, obviously," said Archer. "We gotta get a feel for the town, its people, strategic points, routes in and out…"
"Ooh! I'll go check out the festival; that's probably a big target for any terrorism, right? So, I can totally look for, like, all the holes in security and… stuff," said Pam, too excitedly.
"Oh honey, please, don't act like you're not planning to stuff your face with every exotic food you can get your grubby little paws on," said Ray.
"Well, I assume we'll have international per diem on this trip, so…" said Pam, shrugging and smiling.
"Guess again, Missy. You're HR, not a field agent. I know the contract I signed, and that wasn't in it!" snapped Malory.
"Damn it," said Pam, snapping her fingers.
"Whatever, I'll go with Pam because I… honestly, I just don't want to do anything, and you guys are probably gonna be all, 'Let's canvass the entire city,'" said Cheryl.
"Fine. Ray and I will take the Docks and Warehouse District," said Lana. "Archer, and you and Cyril go—."
"Wait, Archer and me? Why can't Krieger go with him?" asked Cyril.
"Because Dr. Krieger has… other projects for me to do," said Malory.
"Eurgh. Really hope this one doesn't involve unconscious teenagers hooked into experimental machines," said Lana.
"Wha—that was one time!" Krieger snapped, indignantly. "And she survived… mostly!"
"W-well, why can't I go with you, then?" asked Cyril.
"Because once we're done, this hooker is taking me to dinner and buying me some nice undies," said Ray. "Mini-vaca, bitch!"
"C'mon, buddy," said Archer, throwing an arm roughly around Cyril's neck. "What've you got to be afraid of? We're invincible now, and think of all the crazy shit we've survived before we even had that going for us!"
"I… I guess you're right," said Cyril, laughing nervously. As the groups split up, he allowed Archer to drag him down the road, basically by his neck. "After all, how bad can one night out be?"