DISCLAIMER: I do not own RWBY or any original characters/locations/etc. from the series. But I tentatively lay claim to this story, which, down the line, I expect will be criticized for similarities to other franchises. I assure you, this plot is original, in that I thought up the barebones one day and added these characters to it.

Here is something new, something different from me. I hope you like it!


Two black-clad male guards, tough-looking and silent, stood stationed at one of the many section gates when they noticed someone approaching in the almost non-existent light, flanked by two female guards.

Immediately, they stepped forward to block the oncoming party's path. "Halt!" One of the guards held up their hands, and motioned the visitor over. "Move over into the light of the checkpoint!"

The guest stepped into the appropriate area, and the guard immediately regretted ordering her around. "Apologies, ma'am, I didn't quite recognize you." He looked over to one of the accompanying guards. "This the transfer request?"

"Affirmative," one of the female guards replied. The enquirer raised his scroll to log the activity, and the female interrupted him. "That won't be necessary."

The male guard paused. "Protocol dictates-"

"Protocol is making an exception in this case," the female guard interrupted again. "This is a…special request."

The guest was sure that if the checkpoint was better-lit, she would see the guard's eyebrow raising. "Shall we proceed? Time is of some importance here," she prodded, trying to move things along.

The male guard looked at her for a moment. "Very well." He closed the scroll and pulled a lever on the wall. The heavy gate slid open, and the male guard, the female guard, and their silent counterparts moved into their positions, so that the guest was now ensconced within the middle of the group. As soon as they were clear, the gate quickly slammed back into place, and the party of five wasted no time in moving forward.

The sound of five, heavily-booted pairs of footsteps proceeding down the dully-lit corridor reverberated, bouncing off the walls in uniform fashion. The time was incredibly late, no later than one in the morning, and no sooner than midnight, and as such, the halls of the Vale Corrections Facility were deathly quiet, apart from the clomping of boots across the poured concrete floor, as they moved quickly to their destination. The group turned at a junction, and proceeded to the far right corner, stopping directly in front of the door on the very end.

The prison was rather new. A project funded by a sole benefactor, it housed the most dangerous criminals known to Vale. State-of-the-art technology, and experienced security personnel at the top of their game kept the incarcerated constantly in check.

The guards moved from covering the guest, to cover positions around the door, while one of them pulled out a scroll and, after a short series of taps, the locks in the door clanked free. The guard with the scroll poised himself to yank the door open, looking at the guest. "This door opens, and you go in. You get seven minutes maximum, and then we're pulling both of you out of there, whether you're done chatting or not."

"I assume then, you won't be accompanying me inside?" The guest cocked her head.

"Affirmative," the guard confirmed. "Under normal circumstances, we would, but these are hardly normal circumstances. I assume you understand, ma'am."

The exchange over, the guard pulled the door open. As soon as it was halfway-ajar, the other three guards quickly ushered her in. "Seven minutes."

As soon as the door closed behind her, she saw a silhouette literally blur into her path as it pinned her to the cell wall. She was unfazed, and quickly identified her attacker. "Blake Belladonna," she ground out. The pressure between her back and the wall weakened ever-so-slightly. "The supposed ex-leader of the radical White Fang. It's nice to finally meet you."

The pressure lessened completely, as Blake backed off. The prisoner used her superior night-vision to properly identify who she had attacked, and crossed her arms, as if that was her way of showing surprise. "And you…" Her feline ears twitched. "You're Weiss Schnee."

Weiss nodded. "Pleasure to meet you, Blake. Although given the circumstances, I doubt you'd be feeling similarly."

Blake shook her head. "I was told that I was being transferred somewhere. Do you secretly run the prison? You here to escort me away or something? What is this? Some sort of sick joke? A ruse?"

"Not exactly."

"Well, then, why are you here?" Blake started pacing. "The director of the largest energy propellant empire in Vytal, visiting a hidden prisoner in maximum security? I'm guessing that this isn't a common occurrence."

Weiss raised her eyebrow. "Hm. You were once a very astute and perceptive individual. I thought you might have figured it out by now, Blake. You are being released into my custody. You are being transferred to my care."

Blake stopped pacing. "What? But… what do you want from me?"

Weiss walked up to her. "I have… something in mind, and you are one of the people that can assist me."

"'One of the people?'" Blake frowned in skepticism, as she realized something about her visitor. "Wait. Where are the guards? It's not SOP to leave a guest alone with a prisoner in a cell."

"These are special circumstances," Weiss waved her off. "Officially, this visit never happened. Officially, this transfer of custody never happened. Officially, once we leave this place, Blake Belladonna will be logged as deceased. Assaulted and killed by rivals in the prison, for the record. We both know that's B.S, of course. But the public won't know any of it, anyway. As a matter of fact, I can assure you that practically no one out there even knows who you are. Your story never made the headlines, for one thing. Great lengths were went to in order to keep your existence hidden after you were taken in."

Blake was shocked by this. But she was also suspicious, and that was the primary tone she went for. "No. No, I'm not going anywhere."

"Tell me, Blake," Weiss stared at her. "How long have you been in here?"

Blake crossed her arms again. "I… don't know. I lost count a long time ago, it seems."

"Blake." Weiss reached out and firmly grasped her shoulder. "I did say 'a long time ago,' and I wasn't joking. For you, it's been six years. I understand your reticence, but I'm afraid that the matter is not negotiable. Your release into my custody is something I have been striving towards for a long time. The arrangement has been fully cleared by the warden, and you will be coming with me, whether you resist or not."

Blake reluctantly decided to play along. "So, say I go with you. I want some idea of what happens from there."

Weiss released the prisoner's shoulder. "As I said, I have something in mind for you, a special assignment, if you will, and you are someone that can help me."

"What's the assignment?"

"Too soon for that. More will be revealed down the line, as it becomes necessary," Weiss dismissed her. "But I will say that, should success be achieved, then a more, permanent, decision regarding your future freedom can be made. As opposed to being officially deceased, for instance, there may not be a grid for you to concern yourself with at all."

Silence made its familiar return to the cell, as Blake considered her options. "Well," she sighed. "I suppose I don't have a choice…"

"You don't," Weiss reminded her.

"Okay," Blake nodded. "Let's get out of here."

Weiss nodded as well, and banged twice on the door. It opened, and the group immediately started for the checkpoint.

Blake felt a coursing of emotions within her, emotions that she had long thought to be dead. Anger, at those who had seen her locked away in the first place; fear, of what to expect from a world she had been missing from for six years; sadness, that she had been gone from the world for six years; and relief. Relief that the other emotions had resurfaced; it meant that she was actually alive.

As soon as they exited the prison, and found themselves outside, Blake immediately started shivering. Weiss draped a third of her large cloak around her. "You're no good to me if you freeze to death."

"I don't get much fresh air in a concrete cell," Blake defended. The pair moved as one towards a large airship which was docked and waiting, ready to launch. The loud thrum of the engines forced Blake to yell. "I'm guessing this is yours?"

"Pride and joy. A pet project over the last half-decade." Weiss slapped her on the back. "Do you want to get inside, out of the cold, or would you rather stay out here questioning your travel options?"

A panel on the side slid open, and Weiss motioned for Blake to climb aboard. As soon as they were both inside, Weiss opened a scroll and tapped on it, sealing the panel. Weiss turned around and noticed Blake watching her. "This airship is large, yes, but it is fitted with the best stealth system designs that no one knows were ever created, and a handpicked crew of those I deemed necessary. It has beyond state-of-the-art facilities and systems, and more than enough space for you to join in.

"Welcome, to my aerial abode."


At the same time the huge airship had risen into the air, cloaked, and sped away, the warden of the Vale Correction Facility pulled up the transcripts and files on Blake Belladonna on his scroll.

DESIGNATION: B02-0136-F03
NAME : BELLADONNA, BLAKE
SEX: FEMALE
AGE: 24 YEARS 5 MONTHS

ADMINISTRATOR ACCESS GRANTED. CONFIRM DETAILS?

The warden tapped yes on the scroll, bringing up the bottom half of the file. The warden scrolled through to the area he wanted, letting his eyes linger over some of the more interesting points.

CURRENT LENGTH OF INCARCERATION: 6 YEARS
IMPRISONED ON TIES TO WHITE FANG AND ACTS COMMITTED IN THEIR NAME.
SENTENCED TO: [REDACTED]

UPDATE: BELLADONNA HAS BEEN CONFIRMED AS [REDACTED].

The warden scrolled back up to the vital details, and tapped an option along the side.

ADMINISTRATOR ACCESS GRANTED. CONFIRM VITAL STATUS?

The warden tapped yes once more, and after some loading, the display on the scroll reverted back to the list of inmate files. He pulled up Blake's file once more, and laid the tablet on the desk. Where Blake's mugshot had been, there was now a large red cross through it, and the word "DECEASED" emblazoned in dull orange across the page.

Officially, the transfer never happened. Blake Belladonna was dead. Murdered in prison, at the hands of "rivals." The proper steps had been taken, procedures followed to the letter, and there were no suspicious loose ends hanging off the arrangement. It had been a special request, carried out in a normal, inconspicuous fashion. If it were anyone else requesting, the warden would have had them thrown into a cell themselves. But this was Weiss Schnee, the woman who had practically seen the place built, with her numerous contributions to technology across the continent, as well as her role as the sole benefactor of the prison's initial funding. If she had asked the warden to jump, he would have asked, "How high?"

And the fact that Weiss Schnee wanted the former leader of the White Fang to herself worried him slightly.

The warden sat back in his chair and stared at the page. He would begin purging the prison's systems of Belladonna's records, and the footage of Schnee's visit, shortly. But for now, he was content to let the situation sink in. "I hope you know what you're doing, Miss Schnee."


There is the first chapter to my new project, Alliances. Short, but it is a first dig. I assure you that they will get much longer as the story goes on.

...Truly Yours, Kalico.