The following information changes over time! However, do not expect the eleventh chapter update to match the second's!


Sparrow

Maybe even "Beryl"!

Perhaps "From the Ashes"!


Summary: Phoenix was lucky that the chieftess of his tribe was influential enough in the Valen Underground to scrounge up a forged transcript that got him into Beacon. All he has to worry about are the idealistic and hormonal teenagers, right? No? Fuck. [AUs and an unapologetic rewrite of A Neapolitan Crimson, unfortunately also by me]

Character(s): [OC, Yang X. L.]; all other characters plus more OCs or some shit

Genre(s): Action, ANGST; Adventure, Drama, Romance, Comedy

Rating: M.

Warnings: Sexual Content, Gore, and lots and lots of angst.

Language(s): English : English

Crossover(s): RWBY: Time (Partial) AU, Atlesian Human Experimental Camp AU, Guild/Bandit-Tribe AU, Yurian Kingdom AU, Original Faunus AU. |

Beta(s): Adam the Black Mage (G+ Handle).

End Notes(s): ARE YOU READY?! I'M INCONSISTENT AS FU-


Additional Information


Season #1: The Sparrow Incident | Act #1: Beacon

Nothing much to say for now.

Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY, that belongs to Monty Oum and Rooster Teeth, extensively. I do own A Neapolitan Crimson, my old account being named PhoenixYang (PLEASE DO NOT GO THERE, THAT IS A DARK PLACE). I do, however, own any and all OCs, AUs, and twisted plot/Canon. Please support the official releases.

Now, for the love of God, let this Fanfiction begin!


Chapter #1: "To Fly Without Wings!"

Location: Emerald Forest Cliffside, Beacon Academy

Date: Mantiday, 2 Enrun, 2305

Time: 12:36 AN (EST)


Flight.

Humans weren't particularly created with this trait in mind. Perhaps so, but they were ultimately left flightless. Few Faunus have the abilities themselves - artificially so by increased leg strength in some, and others with an affinity for scaling tall objects to jump off and simulate gliding, at the very least. Hovering at best with anyone's Semblance was the closest one could get without being a Faunus with bird traits.

However, humans still were innovative with the creativity of Faunus traits as its origin in the production of machines that could fly or stimulate one's ability to do so.

That is why one Phoenix Blackwood had been ultimately led to believe that his race was penultimately insane in the scheme of all creations made by them. Humans, along with Faunus if allowed, were inventive with solutions that fixed problems they couldn't solve more easily.

Need to get somewhere across the ocean? Better take a boat, right?

"Want to get there faster? Here's a fuckin' derigible!"

There was a reason behind Phoenix's explicit language: the irritation with how this damned Initiation was going.

Unable to use all of his items to avoid Atlesian detection - of which a chunk of the First Cycle student body had in terms of heritage - the boy flailed, unable to formulate a landing strategy fast enough to balance himself and execute it.

So he flailed about, hoping to God someone else would save his foolish ass or his own conservative brain would conjure up a detail he unrecalled, allowing him this ability to land without too much injury.

He wasn't fast enough for that. But anyone could suppose that there was a reason behind his current behavior and why he was in this particular situation, and it is due for your benefit.

So, shall we begin?


Location: Dale City, Valen Kingdom

Date: Dominiday, 1 Enrun, 2305 (YESTERDAY)

Time: 7:53 IM (EST)


The closure of the preceding cycle. It had been nearly eight hours ago that hundreds of thousands of people around the globe were at once celebrating the passing of the next cycle - until the next hour in when those an hour West would take up banners of their respective nations, hang them up, and drink themselves silly.

Now, it was the new cycle, and the people had sobered after a good night's rest - if breaks were ever taken - and had returned to the streets in a hungover daze attempting to arrive at their occupation. Most had nowhere to go and had joined the jubilee of cordial crowds before realizing in the morning that they would no longer be welcomed. Some were Hunters wanting to relax on their trips only bringing upon themselves a stressful headache that pounded in their thick heads the traces that alcohol left. Some were even Hunters-in-training that were attempting to find their way to a landing pad for extraction - to land at the prestigious Academy that they had signed up for and spent much money on.

In some cases, important members of society were able to not be stressed over the entrance fee. In some cases, shady members of society were able to get their hands on falsified transcripts to enter it.

Phoenix Blackwood was of the latter category, though less shady and more unable to acquire the funds to enter on his own. He had acquired himself a well-paying job of 150-Lien-an-hour at a restaurant called Chiro's that he would frequent when Beacon wasn't occupying his time and when he wasn't required to spend time with whatever team was present. However, he hadn't been alone in the endeavor of gaining these transcripts - his chieftess helped out.

Chieftess, you ask? A tribe he was from, of course! One whose name and location he had sworn to never disclose to anyone unless it was absolutely necessary - especially from a nosy Headmaster he was advised to evade at every opportunity without being conspicuous. Luckily, covert operations were apart of his fortes!

He stepped with purpose, duffel bag ruffling under the ferrying, gloved hand, a black arm warmer reaching up to his shoulder under his jacket, feet even as he had no alcohol to drink that night. One of the few, might he add, that had gone without reverie. One may forget that it was the Atlesians that had created such an event - a Kingdom he had hated with passion. His eyes narrowed in disgust briefly at a memory he thought he crushed long ago, and it was snuffed out of his surface thoughts as of that moment as he continued on, face returning to its normal countenance.

Dale was a smaller outlier city from Vale, but well within the ranges of the mountains and its neighboring natural borders. While Grimm attacks were aggrandized on this side of the Valen Kingdom, West of the capital, it was relatively safe for the average citizen. It was its smaller cousin in all of size, population, and skyline height. The buildings didn't reach as high, the highways were lower and less complicated, and even the occasional division knew almost every person that lived nearby.

Phoenix walked along the less crowded area in town, though it would become more so in the later hours of the day, packed with late workers and other random pedestrians. His feet brought him to a terminal just outside of a large building, asking him to enter his name and credentials.

He swiped a card over the top. Normally, this would be inconspicuous if it weren't for the fact that the card itself is a dead giveaway of illegal immigrants, so it had to be a quick swipe and a return to the bag.

Luckily, no guards were too present in the area and the ones that were were certainly not paying attention - that, coupled with the fact that machines could not tell the difference between the cards was a welcome thing that almost made him smile.

Almost.

He stepped into the building and went past security without too much hassle before settling himself after the lengthy walk around the building into a seating area to await the next flight from this city to the next. He sat quietly, a murmur passing through unabated continually through the building with the small crowds and people awaiting their flights or others to arrive. With nothing else, he settled himself into the seat enough to be comfortable, set down his rucksack on the adjacent chair, before shutting an eye and grabbing some much needed rest.

He didn't understand most of the technology around him anyway. His chieftess wasn't too well versed in it herself, and the others who had experienced the technologies about him weren't the best storytellers in the world, so he kept to himself mostly.

With that, he made to sigh, relaxing his body into slumber, the soft pleather cupping around him with an attached hood covering his head, allowing for peaceful sleep.


Location: Vale City, Valen Kingdom

Date: Dominiday, 1 Enrun, 2305 (SAME DAY)

Time: 3:13 AN (EST) (4 HOURS, 20 MINUTES LATER)


He arrived a few short hours prior. The city was jam packed with pedestrians and cars eager to progress from one place to the next. A food vendor he had ordered a bowl of ramen from advised him that this wasn't even the worst traffic during the day, and that Phoenix should head to wherever it was he was heading to before it picked up at around four. So Phoenix set out towards the tarmac that would pick him up in either a Bullhead or a Dustplane. He preferred the latter - or should he say that his chieftess preferred it. It was what she had experienced after all, and she had attended Beacon.

The flight here proved mediocre at best, not exactly huddled but he could understand where his tribespeople were coming from when they expressed their distaste with people of the higher class - 'Wasting tech and space', they always said. It was what drove them angry when the people complained that they were a waste of such, even when they began to apply the technology for their use and expressing their compassion with helping those beneath them.

The Mistralians just hadn't thought that way.

The Dustplane was mostly empty save for a few others who didn't seem they hadn't used a lick of movement in their lives. It made him look like a stick, and this 6'1" man was nothing to scoff at. Standing tall with black hair with blonde highlights, he stared briefly at them with distaste with his silver eyes before turning away in silent fury, fists balled up angrily.

He shook his head now in the present, finding it lucky that he hadn't been caught and spoken to harshly about his conduct - not that they should be getting up in his business, but it had occured before and it had irritated him.

Beside him, as he was near a window, was a hologram that suddenly popped up. He jumped slightly, not used to the sudden waves of light and attention springing his way not for the way he reacted but for the news that appeared on the holovision. A woman he had learned the name as Lisa Lavender of International News - he met her once on Anima while he was in his tribal disguise and answered some questions - sat behind a desk with redscreen, as she had dubbed it, and began speaking quickly. He gathered his wits before tuning in.

"The United States of Yuria has now stabilized their government and have immediately begun political contact with the remaining Kingdoms. They are currently meeting with the Valen Council." She quickly flipped some papers around, briefly glanced at them, before returning her eyes to the camera. "With the dissolution of the Mistralian Kingdom by the triumphant Yurian Separatists only one month ago, most Kingdoms were rendered speechless, to say the least. With the defeat of the Atlesian Ship Solitude by the Animan Arkships, they have been completely recognized by the other Kingdoms. Nowadays, the world continues to spin normally and the new nation's advanced exports are begrudgingly admitted by the surrounding nations to be of higher quality than the previous nation's efforts. 'Less corruption and more production', as they have begun to say."

Phoenix snorted in mirthful agreement, conceding to a smile.

Continuing unabated, Lisa Lavender went on about, "-the Bandit-Tribes, which had begun to recant their banditry and have rebounded to their old Guild methods. A majority of their tribes, lead by the Branwen Tribe who was at the head of the Second Yurian Separatist Revolution - the chieftess of which was the recent General Raven Branwen of the Animan Ship Wind - have begun to permit their members entry into the surrounding villages to take on assignments issued by the mayors in assisting the people present as they had prior to the first Separatist Revolution that failed. According to many villager accounts, they are a 'nostalgic welcome sight' strolling about their cities and 'bringing them back to life," she finished.

Phoenix took that as a queue to step away from the hologram which had abruptly switched to a presentation of a Faunus Rights outcry that swiftly became vicious with savage brutality when the White Fang disrupted the ceremony, demanding the group fight with violence. When they refused, they were publicly executed for sedition. Phoenix turned away in disgust. He had no contempt for the Faunus as a whole, but had veritable antipathy for the White Fang.

He only just heard over the murmur of the crowd of Lisa switching over to speaking of Roman Torchwick's escape from apprehension.

Shifting from the channel, the hologram morphed into what appeared to be a blonde woman nearing her forties, if not fifties. Phoenix heard her over the crowd.

"Initiates, I humbly welcome you into Beacon Academy." Phoenix wasn't the only one who snorted in derision. Most had faked their way in. "My name is Glynda Goodwitch, and I will be teaching you in Combat Class. Your next steps will be ones to further the world in survival against the Grimm menace and in intelligent matters."

If such included political debate to prevent something like the Mistralian Kingdom dissolving, "then, yes, intellectual matters," Phoenix mentally agreed.

"For the next four cycles, we hope to instruct you all in the essence of the life of a Huntsman or Huntress," she continued, "In that time, your knowledge, passion, and qualification in the career of a Hunter shall develop exponentially.

"In a time of strained peace, we can only hope that any angst can be quickly quelled and transformed into action to maintain said peace. I bid you all adieu."

Phoenix raised an eyebrow briefly before pandering to his baser instinct of interest, herded by the unintelligible murmur of reverence. He looked down below through the window, less frantically than those around him with an unreadable expression. He then scoffed.

"I've had better views before."

The excitement, for others it seemed, was short lived as the Dustplane began to descend and eddy into the position above one of the three large air platforms before them. After docking with it, the door to the exit opened where there was a large congregation of mixed color and mass individual shadow cast over each, leaving one homogenous group that blocked his exit. Rolling his eyes, he stepped into it and began to subtly push alongside his more eager classmen.

A shove at his back would normally have sent him into a rage, but he ignored the instinctual antagonism that flared up for someone's touching of his back. Warm metal was flattened against his back, moving like muscles and adhering to the organic anatomy. Luckily, through the pleather jacket, the offender was unable to feel this. Phoenix kept a cool head and crushed the strap to his duffel bag in his hand in a way to alleviate any remaining acrimony welling within his chest.

Tempted, but appeal thwarted with an assuaging sigh, his ability continued to remain inactive, allowing the crowd before him to continue on in peace rather than be launched off the plane in impatience. His disciplines were seasoned further than the average human, fortitude tested further than anything normal. If he reacted any differently, he may not have been himself.

And most likely thrown out of Beacon.

With that sobering thought in mind, Phoenix was finally allowed breathing room as the group dispersed across the large campus, hoping to catch the sights before the four thirty speech by Headmaster Ozpin. He was regaled by his chieftess about others' usual disinterest in speeches, but with the promise of its briefness, the students were easily manipulated into arriving at the event. It was meant to be a test - whether your were easily compliant or defiant.

A mix of the two was what they wished to see. So he would arrive late.

It was what his chieftess did, and it was what she recommended.

Any guidance in a new place was immensely appreciated, so he accepted it without a doubt.

And what was he to do for an hour? Faff around?

BOOM!

He smirked. "I fucking hate fate when I get too wordy and it plays with me, but it works in my favor in this instance."

"You absolute fool!"

"Never mind," he narrowed his eyes, finding a more favorable route around the commotion that began to unfold ahead of him. Small hills surrounded the pair that he meticulously chose the step behind one to bypass them so he wouldn't be suddenly compelled to walk over there, take the Schnee by her throat, and-

"I'm sorry!"

"Do you understand that we could have been blown off the side of the cliff?! The damage you could have done to my cargo?! What do you have to say for yourself?!"

The appeal to appear over there and destroy the arrogant ass that is the spawn of one of the Atlesians he held intense enmity for was great. He wanted to show exactly what he felt upon learning that he and his kind were sold to those Jacques Schnee funded. Upon learning the arrogance of the most technologically advanced Kingdom on the planet, and their inability to find equality between Humans and Faunus - even their own people - left him embittered. To find that his Kingdom, the Mistralian Kingdom, had sold-

"Hand that over immediately!"

If she interrupted his thought process one more ti-

"Do you know what this is?!" Without giving the young girl a second to even process the query, the Schnee continued. "This is Dust! Mined and purified by the Schnee Dust Company! Most likely a refined commodity that is worth more than your place of reside-!"

"OI! WHITE GIRL! LEAVE HER ALONE!"

Phoenix, increasingly aware by the moment of being negligent of the entire situation, interrupted her "back". All glares of silent, searing silver eyes, he glowered defiantly at the startled Schnee, who stepped back briefly to process what was said to her. Once she had done so, she equally returned her glare. "How dare you!"

"Yes, how dare I!" he replied. Spinning the fastest line of bullshit in the history of spiders weaving silk out of their ass, Phoenix quickly continued before the Heiress could have a chance to recover. Stepping one foot forward, chest out, he said, "If it weren't for your inadequate caching of delicate items that obviously breaches several codes of safety procedures, the resulting explosion would never have occured!"

"Do you have any idea who I am?!"

Defiant to the end? Of course they were. They were known as high-end members of society that managed products that consumers ate up like sustenance - this required them to always be above others in order to preserve their image as dominant over others. He would be surprised if she was suddenly amicable in this situation.

"Of course, I do!" Phoenix replied derisively, "Weiss Schnee, Heiress to the Schnee Dust Company!"

She let a meager foot step behind her to pull her back a step, still appearing confident and overbearing though only briefly allayed. "At the very least, you are aware of my statu-"

"Familiarly notorious for its infamously controversial labor forces, disregard of the humanity of all peoples, and questionable employment of alternative aggregations of ambiguous operations."

Phoenix, surprised, turned to find what appeared to be a young, black haired individual who had cut Schnee off. He was also somewhat relieved. If he had been allowed to reply to that, it would mostly be full of equivocations to address her conceit rather belligerently.

Growling, the Heiress receded into murmuring threats beneath her breath, as she snatched a chest of Dust vials it had barely held and pulled it away out of their reach. Two servants of hers in suits quickly retrieved the remaining crates and loaded them onto a cart, before speeding after her as fast as they could without dislodging the items.

Seeing as her job was done, the black haired girl promptly stepped away, leaving Phoenix with the small girl, which he quickly looked down towards as she found the two elders rapidly departing, leaving her with Phoenix.

"Hi!" she squeaked nervously. She hadn't half a mind of what the two of them were blaming Weiss Schnee for, but she was eternally grateful for their aid! They saved her from the imperious white haired individual whom she had run into...quite literally.

He raised an eyebrow in amusement, clearly entertained by the rosy cheeks that blossomed across her face by the intense stare of her similarly iris-colored guardian. The two shared a silent stare briefly almost understanding one another before Phoenix broke the quiet with an outstretched hand of greeting and his personal introduction. She accepted the hand with her own, withdrew her cheeks to a restrained colored face that balanced at a pinkish hue, and answered with her own name.

"Ruby Rose!"

With that, he finally looked down and noticed that beneath them, there had been a rather large crater worth mention, and her eyes trailed down to her feet, which was at the lowest point of the practical trench. He looked back to meet her wide, abashed eyes which burned red beneath as she began to sputter indignantly.

He laughed.


Location: Northern Courtyard of Beacon Academy

Date: Dominiday, 1 Enrun, 2305 (SAME DAY)

Time: 4:30 AN (EST) (1 HOUR, 17 MINUTES LATER)


"Pleasepleaseplease, Phoenix! I don't want to be late!"

The young lady had been pleading with Phoenix to prevent their lateness.

"It's best if we do this this way," Phoenix replied, a placating hand upon her head. She pouted at him for the action, but he continued anyway. "My chiefte-" he quickly cut himself off and came back strong, "I mean, my Mother had told me that they were looking for the ones that followed the rules too rigidly, or those who followed no rules at all." He looked at Ruby seriously when her face twisted into one more of curiosity than annoyance. "She found herself a little late yet was congratulated for finding a middle ground. She was more of a rebel than anything, but she pandered to the idea and it helped her team get out of serious trouble for free most of the time."

Ruby then contemplated this, lips pursing in finding any kind of illogic in that philosophy. She could find none and was left to follow around her silver-eyed compatriot. The pair had used the last eighty some minutes to walk around campus freely and explore. He would always be caught looking at random locations, like small parks or tall roofs. When prompted, he explained he might want to have some alone time from his friends when he wasn't working, so he was scouting out all of the good places.

Ruby then noticed something about the structure of his elaboration, and capitalized on it. "What did you mean to say earlier when you were describing your mom?"

She noticed his eyes widen briefly in surprise and his body freeze momentarily, but quickly returned to his sang-froid. He took a moment to sigh before answering. "I was adopted," he finally said. "She was more a leader of sorts to me before she decided to take me in as her own." He looked at her. "I was apart of a Guild-Tribe in Anima. My chieftess had found me a few scant cycles ago dying in a village, and took me into her tribe."

Ruby raised an eyebrow, before sheepishly protesting him. "You don't sound like someone from a tribe."

He returned the raised eyebrow in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked cautiously.

"Welllll..." she dragged along, looking everywhere except for him now, cheeks coloring red. "You kinda know a lot of big words."

"Oh," he popped, prudence swiftly abandoned. "I was born in Anima, but raised in Atlas for a majority of my life." His eyes narrowed at that. Not that she noticed as she was turned away. The countenance quickly returned to neutral in the time it took her to return her gaze to him. He looked back at her and smiled. "I prefer Anima over that stuffy, cold place."

She didn't seem to catch his quip as she had inquiried his meaning.

They stopped walking before he leaned over her, something she leaned back from awkwardly with widened eyes.

"Ice Queen."

The two words caused the little girl to giggle so much she shut her eyes, allowing him his escape. However, the quick little girl noticed his departure and activated her Semblance, almost causing him to react violently before realizing the red blur was actually his most recent addition to his rather short tabloid of friends.

She zoomed passed him, to where he had earlier shown her was the entrance to the amphitheatre - or as it was being used now, the Ceremonial Chambers. He hurried on after her. He supposed the two of them congregated outside long enough to optimally be coined as both late but obedient. They would arrive, though not on time; just as planned.


Location: Central Courtyard, Statue of Belfast Arc, Beacon Academy

Date: Dominiday, 1 Enrun, 2305 (SAME DAY)

Time: 5:05 AN (EST) (35 MINUTES LATER)


It had gone as planned, though the moment the speech was completed, a blonde had immediately embraced the small red-tip-haired girl in an overprotective hug spouting what suspiciously sounded like profanities mixed into her inquiries. To avoid a meeting, he had quickly exited the amphitheatre. He also swore he saw a swirl of golden heading in his direction before it was swallowed by the crowd.

It had been some time since the speech, allowing him to soon be alone in the courtyard, staring up at the statue before him. It was a rather magnificent stone sculpture depicting the victory by the Sanans on Beacon Hill - which soon became the academy he attended. The man himself was a sort of mentor to his father, a survivor of the Great War, the Faunus Revolutions, and the First Yurian Separatist Rebellion. And, if it is to be believed, a secret war his father boasted of, claiming uncountable heads of an enemy with indecipherable goals - though, vaguely, he claimed them to be pointing towards the end of the world.

Phoenix's higher ears twitched at the sound of a new arrival. Dress shoes clicked against the stone beneath them as he approached, and he could also hear a faint sipping noise, indicating that he had, indeed, been carrying a drink of some sort with him. And if his identification of redolents are to be believed, it was a sugary concoction mixed with black coffee.

Soon, the tall man came to a halt to the right of him, both staring up at the depiction. Phoenix's eyes narrowed a tiny fraction in recognition, having seen Ozpin in his peripheral. He let out a short, quiet sigh, before turning to the man before him, an expectant look dominating his facial features.

"Centurials," the professor scoffed jokingly, turning to him with a small smirk and his mug - which represented the school with its banner printed on it - raised to his chin, "so impatient," he quipped, sipping.

Phoenix maintained his countenance as the professor lowered the mug again. He wasn't quite impressed with the attempted levity, but he could see the necessity for it. He was catfishing for emotions that would give him away, so the professor could more easily use him on the field.

Unfortunately for the man, he bore no desire to be any sort of foot soldier, no matter how much the silver-haired man claimed it to be otherwise.

"So," Ozpin said, breaking the awkward silence. Phoenix ignored him, turning his gaze back to the statue. He raised his mug again, but this time in order to access his Atwatch and enabled it with a swipe of his right hand, extending it down his forearm to read some information, displayed in white letters over a light cyan background that glowed dimly in the bright day. "Phoenix Blackwood," he read, "interesting name. Where did you pick it up?"

Phoenix raised an eyebrow in slight amusement. The man was observant and the name was easily identified as unnatural of a parent's honoring.

He felt he could throw the professor a bone - on a leash, of course.

"Anima," he answered truthfully. He was silent for a moment. "A good metaphor, is it not?"

"For what?"

"Resurrection," Phoenix replied meticulously. The gears turned, and the professor understood. A new life, a new name, after all.

The man briefly cleared his throat before sipping on the mug again, shortly after deactivating his Atwatch, and basked in the silence. He sighed after a moment of silence before turning towards Phoenix. "Why are you the way you are, Mr. Blackwood?"

Phoenix chanced a glance at the man, conveying a mixture of annoyance and confusion simultaneously. "Psychological philosophy?" he wondered, "Or is he just catfishing again?"

A long sigh, and he fully turned towards the professor. "I am the way I am because I was molded to be this way," he remarked vaguely, adding on a simple, "much like you." Unbeknownst to him, however, he had come much closer to the truth than he ever expected to be.

Barely indistinct, though detectable, irritation marred the old man's physical and audible features with Phoenix's constant evasions of his inquiries. "Phoenix," the man emphasized, looking to him much more seriously this time, but the student merely displayed disinterest, "I am a friend, not an enemy. Please, help an old man understand, would you kindly?"

He was not just any old man, Phoenix knew, as his old chieftess knew very well who he was in reality. Phoenix was forewarned of the professor's black operations and the sort of black hole metaphor they could be in relation to the pull towards demise in such affairs. His chieftess had long abandoned the futile mission Ozpin attempted, and Phoenix agreed with her expression of its hopelessness.

"Why should I?" he asked, however genuine by the sound of his voice when he turned back to the man in the statue. Ozpin visibly flinched from his answer - certainly never expected such a blunt question. "You can barely protect yourselves, and you train us to fight something we can never defeat."

Ozpin, now aware that Phoenix was privy to information regarding humanity's great enemies, relaxed into a much less business-like stance and into something of a driven man's nature. The man was certainly motivated - if not obsessed, if not possessed, and if not outright consumed! by this impossible mission - towards his goals. "It can be done," he defended snappily.

Phoenix turned his gaze onto Ozpin. "I wasn't talking about Salem."

Satisfied with Ozpin's misunderstanding with the situation, Phoenix spun around and fell away towards the ballroom - where everyone was directed after the speech given by the man he had just abandoned - long before Ozpin could form a rebuttal. Phoenix knew that making Ozpin wise to his knowledge of certain Armageddon-peddlers would elicit future - unwanted - conversations.

His Mother may not be too happy.


Location: Ballroom of Beacon Academy

Date: Dominiday, 1 Enrun, 2305 (SAME DAY)

Time: 8:28 AN (EST) (3 HOURS, 23 MINUTES LATER)


It is evening before a majority of the students become uninterested from their browsing of the on-campus club booths - which have been decided by faculty to remain for two weeks - lining either side of the courtyard past the statue of Belfast Arc. It is around this time that they soon returned to their cots and/or items strewn about the floor. The class is small - a hundred at the most - compared to the larger upperclassmen groups. It was much like a large slumber party, in Phoenix's opinion, though with a great deal more people.

There was an unspoken rule to the divide of the two groups, men on one side, women on the other. It would appear, though, that mixtures often formed near this border, widening the proverbial line. That being said, at each end, there was a distinct separation.

Phoenix sat with his back against the wall within the vague separation, a girl with hair as blackened as his sitting not too far away from him. She seemed a little further before, though their shared attitudes regarding their love for literature perhaps attracted her to him, Yet, if his nose was telling him the truth, perhaps it was also because of his similar Faunus phenotypes.

Regardless, a difference between the two became apparent when Ruby's golden-haired guardian had dragged the young girl towards the concealed Faunus, and Phoenix chanced a subtle scoot away. As the golden-haired one seemed intent on his fellow book fiend, he was able to achieve stealthing away from what could be an irritable conversation. "Sorry, acquaintance," he mentally apologized to the young cat girl.

The night was dark against the windows opposite him, far over the masses of bodies acquainting themselves in comfortable positions on the hard floor, some cushioned by bedding, and others - used to the feeling - lying familiar with the coldness. Phoenix quickly stashed away his book into his duffel bag (he trusted no one with it in a locker) and laid it between his back and the wall.

When the ruckus to his left escalated to shouting, Phoenix set his head over the end of his bag, and attempted sleep. Little whirs that plagued his head for cycles slowed down before giving him a comfortable si-


Location: Lockeroom of the First Cyclers, Beacon Academy

Date: Mantiday, 2 Enrun, 2305 (NEXT DAY)

Time: 7:07 AN (EST) (10 HOURS, 39 MINUTES LATER)


After a brief annoyance via Professor Goodwitch's reprimandations, Phoenix caved and set his belongings in locker 337 (a number he greatly loathed) before arranging his loadout. He set the collapsed halberd-rifle combination named the Judicator on the counterparting holder at his back underneath his jacket. Two guns named Heir and Worthy, left and right, each at the thigh of the respective side. A dagger rested at the left on the small of his back, sharpened and shined (though still caked with persistent splotches of blood), and the name carved into it remained legible.

Popping the bones in his finger joints and wrists, he stepped away and shut his locker, palming the face of the door in a last farewell to items he does not fully trust out of his reach. Sighing, he spun around and made his way towards the exit - despite an early time's protest - before his right shoulder was grabbed, roughly he'd say.

Reaction was quite the tool to train on, immediately capturing the offending grabber with the hand of the same side, unsheathing the dagger at his back and stabbing as he spun to the left. He heard a surprised yelp as the pool of yellow flew away, just missing her head, and her pride and joy.

The woman ahead of him recovering from his attack was Yang Xiao Long, blood daughter of the Branwen Tribal Chieftess who saved his life merely three cycles ago, and the one he has been charged with to protect by the same woman.

Yang, having fully recovered from the attack, yanked her right fist away from him, only to find nothing budged. Her look of surprise displayed evidence to him that her usually unnatural strength failed to aid her now, even if her right bracelet began forming into the likes of a gauntlet, its inner workings full of bullets and wirings flashing its contents before being covered by its secondary layer. Such was the Ember Celica weapon that he has studied in great detail.

Her left arm was immediately raised with hostile intent, he detected, covered in the same likeness of its right-handed twin, and his right arm briefly twitched as a red blur came to his rescue by just turning away the gauntlet before it fired, eliciting the surrounding murmur to cease.

"Yang!" the small, familiar, voice shouted, garnering the attention of the called offender. Phoenix's right arm returned to its relaxed state as it released the woman, causing her to quickly pull it away, glaring at him. She soon turned to her sister, face morphing into something of concern.

"Ruby, you need to be careful!" Yang reprimanded her, and Ruby's return grunt displayed irritation. Yang had been referring to Ruby's blatant misdirecting of her gauntlet.

"You need to be careful!" she rebutted, catching the blonde off guard, "Don't attack my friends!"

"He attacked me first!"

"You grabbed him in the same way you do to bullies all the time! He's not a bully!"

Phoenix piped up as he heard that, turning a confused glance at Yang. "You've done this enough that she can identify the different ways you grab people?"

She turned to him and opened her mouth, a quick inhale for a long-winded speech, before cutting herself off. She unwittingly admitted to the truth with her silent turn to the side, contemplating the question with scrutiny as she looked through her mind's eye, searching memories of events similar. "She must have been doing these things unconsciously," he deduced.

Remembering Mother, he smirked. "Rather handy, aren't you?"

Yang's head snapped up.

"Oh, no," Ruby groaned, rubbing her face after palming it, "there's two of them."

Yang slowly began to smirk. "I guess I'm not the only punny one around here," she remarked, losing all ire for him. He also noticed the drop of hostility with the way her Aura dimmed down and her gauntlets retracted into simple bracelets.

"Oh, please," Phoenix scoffed, "Otherwise, you'd have to twist my arm to make us two of a kind~"

Noticing the twin pistols at his sides, his challenge went answered with a short quip of, "So, you use two hands for your weapons? Of course you would have to."

Gagging, Ruby immediately stepped in between the two in a short burst of her Semblance, hands raised in holding them back from one another. The two amusedly looked down at the ailing girl as she coughed twice more before levelling a glare once at her sister, and then one at Phoenix. Their obnoxious smiles did nothing to lighten her mood. Instead, "I'm leaving," she said before speeding away towards the exit. Yang doubled over in short laughter.

After recovering, she stood straight up and said, "I approve," before stepping up to him for an extended conversation. "Where are you from?"

"You want to know where I was born or raised?" he asked instead. Both was his answer and he rolled his eyes. "I was born in Anima, but raised in Solitas."

"Explains the accent," she quipped.

"I have an accent?" he wondered confusedly.

"How'd you take the Mistralian government being taken down?"

Phoenix smiled. "I was there for the past three cycles. I advocated its destruction."

Her eyes widened momentarily. "You were a soldier?" she wondered. It looked like she gave him a mixture of respect...and disgust he couldn't place as to its reason.

"Problem?" he asked. "My favorite battle would probably have to be...the Battle for Haven." She remained silent as he reminisced. "The look on Headmaster Lionheart's face!" he chuckled. "The man was definitely a coward before General Branwen took him under her wing." A short snicker and Yang was back on his heels.

"General Branwen?" she asked. "Do you know her personally?"

"Know her?" he replied sarcastically. Yang raised a brow to make him elaborate, and he did, "The woman practically saved my life! I would have been okay with dying in the middle of Anima like that, but she took me under her wing, trained me in Tribal affairs, and I aided her revolution in return."

"What did you see her as?" Yang prodded. Phoenix knew why she was probing for information, but he wasn't really going to give her everything - yet.

"A Mother," he answered honestly with his head up towards the ceiling - he could see her stiffening - "Though I knew I would never be her actual child." He looked down at Yang to see her returning to as relaxed as possible, but detected her uncomfortableness. She wanted to explode. "Always did watch her own, though." That caught her attention.

"She watched her?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Always was concerned for her health and safety, but I gotta say, I'm sort of sad about what happened to her family."

He may be asking for a death wish. He could feel Raven's portal just behind him - tiny and spying as always when she wasn't busy.

Yang's head tilted the other way. "What happened?" she inquired. Phoenix gave a rueful smile.

"General Branwen, while admitting to being rather proud and stubborn during her younger days, eventually fell in love with the man that became her husband. She bore a child with him, but immediately had to go help her Tribe in Mistral before it fell into worse banditry when her father died.

"Her twin brother remained in Sanas to work with their team, but their half siblings wanted the Branwen Tribe for themselves, so there was a lot of infighting," he said, waving his hand in a little emphasis. "Raven finally took control of the Tribe. When she came home..." he trailed off.

"Go on," she quietly urged.

"Her husband cheated on her with a teammate and she left," he answered. Yang was barely able to hide her primal surprise and was able to settle for a more outsider surprise. "She attempted to save people during the Yurian Massacre eleven cycles ago but was too late. She was blamed for it and when she attempted to abandon the Tribe for her family, her ex forbid her from coming within a certain distance of them."

"How did she keep track of her daughter?" Yang asked.

Phoenix looked at her. "She has her way of watching those she has a bond with." Phoenix then held his tongue - he could feel Raven's daring him to reveal her Semblance any more than necessary. He was stuck between her and a hard place (and who was being who was unknown to him). Instead, he ended it with, "But she never got over him. She's still madly in love with him," he said with a teasing smile, one he knew Raven could see as she transferred that little red dot to see his face and level a glare he felt, "and would do anything to join her family again. Though, as a general, it's kind of difficult to do that these days."

Yang nodded, understanding more than he should know. He didn't pry on how she would know the child was female - as it was her. He let it sink in for her before the announcer blared to life - startling Yang - and commanded the students to arrive at the cliffside. Yang thanked him - and Phoenix shouldn't have even understood that - and walked towards the exit.

When Raven felt it was empty, she emerged from a larger portal and stood beside Phoenix as the two walked towards the exit. He was the last to leave at this point.

"You gave her more than I wanted you to," she snapped, though not harshly. In fact, she was rather impressed with him.

"I'm sorry, Mother," he replied. "I couldn't help myself." He looked up at her beady red eyes behind that large, bird-like Grimm mask. "She deserved to know."

"I wanted to be the one to tell her," she enviously reminded him. Her eyes were narrowed, stance defensive. Her left hand glided across the handle of her weapon at her side in habit, but he knew she would never draw it, never raise a hand against him. They were a non-blooded family.

Her garb was a rather dishevelled Tribal garb. One would be hard pressed to keep a Hunter's uniform in pristine condition for over twenty eight cycles, and she preferred to wear her primal clothing over the stuffy city clothing any day. The scratchiness reminded her of the good days where she wasn't aware of Salem or Doctor Pendragon or Doctor Merlot, or any of those other crazy despots advocating for the end of the world.

"And you still can," Phoenix said, "personally. But I'd give it a good week before you go see your ex again," he looked at her, "and even longer before you meet with her," he nodded towards the exit, meaning Yang.

She relaxed after a moment longer of a burning glare before nodding and both of them faced forward. Only the clicking of their boots really broke the silence before she spoke again. "What will the Silver Phoenix do here in Vale?"

"Honestly?" he wondered, "I don't know. I suppose I could lay low for a good while."

"Good," she said succinctly, ending that deliberation. "If you find something to do as the Silver Phoenix, make sure it isn't too big," she commanded. "Publicity stunts are acceptable so long as it doesn't obfuscate our schedule. And do not draw attention between your two alter egos, am I clear?"

"Yes, General," he acknowledged.

She nodded once more to him. "The Initiation ahead is a Smash and Grab operation. Headmaster Ozpin will explain to you the matter of partnerships and retrieval of the objects in question. The platforms will launch you directly into the forest. You are forbidden from using your wings."

Begrudgingly, he nodded. "Need to get somewhere across the ocean? Better take a boat, right?" he started sarcastically, "Want to get there faster? Here's a fuckin' derigible!"

She chuckled with him for what it was worth, but she soon returned to the professional general he had mistakenly given the title to. Not that she was terrible at being a general so much as it forced her to trust someone else to protect her daughter.

"I've forged the numbers enough so that you will remain a solo student. He will give you a choice whether to remain so or to hold a teammate when transfers begin. If you chose the latter," she turned a knowing look onto him, "trust them or get rid of them."

"Yes, ma'am."

As a final matter, the two stood before the closed doorway that led to the grassy knoll and platforms. "Your charge is still my daughter. Take care of her and protect her."

He nodded again and she left him alone.


Location: Emerald Forest Cliffside, Beacon Academy

Date: Mantiday, 2 Enrun, 2305 (SAME DAY)

Time: 12:36 AN (EST) (FIRST CHAPTER TIMESTAMP)


So, there you have it. Phoenix Blackwood flies uncontrollably through the air of the Emerald Forest airspace, incapable of using the most efficient means of landing due to a single order, and practically helpless.

He is the adopted son of Raven Branwen, Chieftess of the Branwen Guild-Tribe, General of the Yurian Ship Wind, and co-founder of the anti-Sparrow league known as the Phoenix Initiative.

He is the former Experiment #1337 of the Project Sparrow, under the control of Doctor Pendragon, militarized by General James Ironwood of the Fourth Atlesian Airfleet, and financed by Jacques Schnee, the current CEO of the Schnee Dust Company - all within the borders of the Atlesian Kingdom.

His birth name is Rust Rosso Corsa, born the sixth of Mayon of the cycle 2288, son of Ignem Farrum Corsa and Charon Pluto, former Great War veterans, Faunus Revolutionists, Yurian activists, and a part of another black operation unknown to him.

He is the Silver Phoenix, one of the many R-Force heroes of the Second Yurian Separatist Rebellion, the Hero of New Kuroyuri, and the Blade of Yuria!


End of Chapter #1: "To Fly Without Wings!"


And that is that, everybody!


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Dictionary:

Cycles, AN/IM, Enrun, Dominiday, Mantiday: These are apart of my Time AU. Cycles refer to Years. AN means "At Night," and refers to PM. IM means "In the Morning" and refers to AM. Enrun refers to January. Dominiday and Mantiday both refer to Sunday and Monday, respectively.

The United States of Yuria: This refers to the United States of America - or as it should be according to all that has been given to us nearly 240 years ago and the development of a free nation.

Dale City, Kingdom of Vale: ...Hobbitses!

Bandit/Guild-Tribes: Before the First Separatist Rebellion, the surrounding tribes mostly acted as militia (leaving them as the only military after the Great War because Mistral was forced to disband theirs) and volunteer forces that helped around villages, usually for money or other items. They were branded as bandits after the first rebellion failed, leaving the nation mostly defenseless other than a small group of dedicated sellswords, kind of like the Feudal Japanese Samurais which were only hireable to the rich.

Great War: A two-front war for a majority of it. Sanas versus Mantle and Mistral, until the latter two attacked each other in realization that only one of the two could rule in the end. Sanan victory. Mistral was forced to dismantle military and Mantle was forced to revolutionize into a future-tech nation that would defend the world from future attacks of end-of-world activists.

Arkships: Flying warships built for war. They were built during the 2180s during the beginning of the War. There are only seven of them. One for Atlas (Mantle at the time), two for Mistral, one for Vale, two for Vacuo, and one for Menagerie when they didn't know what to do with it. They were hidden away during the First Faunus Revolution. The Atlesian Ship Solitude was raised at the end of the Second Yurian Separatist Rebellion, along with the Animan Ships Animation and Wind.

Faunus Revolutions: In this Fanfiction, there were multiple with varying degrees of success.

Project Sparrow: A company dedicated to the creation of an artificially intelligent robot army to end the world. Obviously, this company is strictly off the official books.

Phoenix Initiative: A company built as a counterforce against Project Sparrow. The organization is headed by its founders, followed shortly by a small group of experiments that escaped Project Sparrow, and several companies of soldiers afterwards. A sort of play-on version of the Avengers Initiative from Marvel.

R-Force: Short for Resurrection Force, a sort of pun on the name Phoenix concerning the anti-Sparrow league, and on a renewal of ruined lives. A sort of play-on version of the X-Force from Marvel.

Grand Chieftess, General, Co-Founder of PI, Wind of Mistral: Titles awarded to Raven Branwen.

Colonel, Silver Phoenix, #1337, Hero of New Kuroyuri, Blade of Yuria: Titles awarded to Phoenix Blackwood/Rust R. Corsa.

Belfast Arc: The hero of the Great War. Went on to be King of Remnant for four cycles before he was assassinated by end-of-world activists. By his will, the world separated into four different Kingdoms led by councils. And, yes, I know he's named after a damn city.

Yurian Massacre: In reference to the Atlesian massacre/genocide of a majority of the Yurians concentrated at the center of Anima by the oppressive Mistralian government, ordered by the same government in an attempt to reduce the amount of citizens that required protection from Grimm and bandits. This included cities like Oniyuri and Kuroyuri, and orignal cities like Edda, Aurelia, Corshianya, etc..


And now, for the love of God, let the next Fanfiction begin!