There isn't a lot of plot behind these snippets and so I am not entirely sure what counts as a continuation, but here's a second part.
Ruby grimaces as the miniature red reaper of team RWBY slowly drags her short feet away from the strict blonde professor's final resting place. The ceremonial service had been good, the elderly priest's words somewhat lackluster in her opinion, but mildly appeasing. Professor Port had made a speech about the life and work of the recently deceased Huntress that had somehow resolved into an epic tale about Glynda and himself pursuing a white whale Grimm aboard a stolen Vacuan vessel. The cookies that had accompanied the coffee after the end of the ceremony could have in fact been better.
The little reaper sighs as the red themed girl solemnly navigates the crowded graveyard, absentmindedly treading between the old gravestones all the while avoiding the bodies of her shaken mourning classmates. The crimson-cloaked Huntress' in training silver orbs leisurely wandering across the sea of weeping Beacon students.
It's not like Ruby Rose can't understand her friends' pain, she does. The R of team RWBY can certainly empathize with the visibly saddened individuals that are surrounding her. Losing a teacher at such a young age was a terrible, terrible thing to experience and knowing that the only interesting class in Beacon was adjourned until further notice was even more tragic than the loss of the unapproachable middle-aged blonde Huntress.
Ruby pouts at that thought as the hooded girl deftly sidesteps a loudly sobbing Jaune Arc, the terrified blond knight instantly fleeing in terror upon unexpectedly laying eyes on the glaring picture of Miss Goodwitch that was placed on top of the Huntress' respective gravestone. The stern glare of the recently deceased blonde professor still powerful enough to make most Beacon students gulp and quicken their steps and random passerby jump up in fright whenever glancing towards the strict Huntress' scowling portrait.
Perhaps that mean glare was part of Miss Goodwitch's Semblance? Ruby Rose thoughtfully ponders after a while. Did Miss Glynda's eyes use to hold some kind of strange power? A power strong enough to even transcend life and death, capable of shattering the laws of this world like her sister's puns utterly obliterated Weiss' patience?
What if the female professor had been a secret half-Gorgon, Grimm-human hybrid all along! What if Miss Goodwitch was currently alive and well and all of this was in fact just a ruse? A cunning ploy of the Headmaster to draw out the White Fang and finally recapture Roman Torchwick?!
The idea was certainly clever. Ruby Rose would definitely give that to professor Ozpin. The Headmaster's plan was sly and unbelievingly smart and even she herself had been tricked for a moment there. But then again all the signs were obvious for anyone that knew where to look at. Straight at Miss Goodwitch's printed stern eyes.
Not many people were able to hold such a cold scrutinizing stare for long however, and Ruby could have sworn that she had momentary felt her Aura rapidly depleting upon locking eyes with the blonde deceased Huntress' lifeless portrait..
The Headmaster's plan was simply ingenious!
Meanwhile professor Port was still loudly narrating the tale of the white whale Grimm even though most of the funeral attendants were presently practicing their disengaging maneuvers and evasion tactics. A few paces away from the burly mustached man a second year Beacon student accidentally ends up shooting his own leg with his trusty dagger-rifle. Repeatedly, until the unlucky student's Aura finally gives out and his limb starts bleeding. The poor unfortunate student then asks Professor Port for permission to leave in order to visit the infirmary.
The concerned mustached giant of a man readily agrees with a quick dismissal and the remaining attending Beacon students suddenly share a meaningful look between themselves before more weapon discharges and pained grunts abruptly start echoing around the visibly stunned professor.
The miniature red reaper's soft round face is minutely marred with mild concern for the fate of her peers. Didn't the second year students attend their mandatory weapon maintenance class yesterday?
It is only when a big black cloaked figure suddenly bars Ruby's way that the perplexed sanguine themed huntress in training is once again drawn back to the cruel realm of reality and Miss Goodwitch's secret cunning ploy.
The disoriented leader of team RWBY blinks owlishly as the oblivious brunette slowly raises her curious silver orbs only to come face to hood with her latest scythe-buddy! Well her only scythe-bubby actually, since calling Uncle Qrow something like that would be both weird and unnecessary garner Yang's teasing remarks. And wherever her sister and words were involved, puns, headaches, death and calamity quickly followed. In that specific order.
"Hey! It's.. ah.. You again! Why, hello there fellow scythe-buddy!" Ruby tries to break the ice with a small polite smile on her lips as she happily points her hand at the ominous dark figure and addresses her cloaked friend with a delighted surprised tone.
The only reply that the miniature red reaper of team RWBY receives is silence. The only greeting that the hooded Huntsman offers to the short innocent girl is a weapons leaflet shoved towards the little rose's face.
"What's that?" The Beacon student curiously asks as Ruby lowers her gaze to examine the abused wrinkled pamphlet, but the cloaked man simply proceeds to tap his scythe against the dusty cobblestone in an almost impatient manner.
The young Huntress in training then notices that some of the weapon pictures in the pamphlet have been circled with a sticky sanguine red marker and silver eyes return back to the shadowed visage of her new friend, a confused expression plastered across Ruby's round childish face.
"You… want to buy a new weapon, Sir?" The young girl questions reluctantly.
The black figure shakes its head before the clearly antisocial Huntsman pointedly taps a sole bony pale finger against the weathered shaft of his ancient weapon and then points back at the raggedy wrinkled leaflet that's held in the small hands of the young huntress in training.
Ruby's youthful face immediately brightens like Blake's mood whenever the stealthy cat Faunus unexpectedly spots tuna in the cafeteria, the little red reaper's smile widening considerably until it almost spills out of her face. There are tiny pink hearts and blinding yellow stars and the occasional exploding galaxy converging inside the young girl's excited eyes.
The eerie black-hooded Huntsman remains perfectly still in front of the girl, but deep inside he does actually start feeling just a little unnerved for a second there.
"OH MY GOSH! You want to modify your bladed sweetheart!? And you want MY opinion for secondary forms and cool new functions?! This is the best day EEEEVER!"
As if on cue another crying Beacon student is clumsily carried by the two cloaked friends. The injured aspiring blue-haired Huntsman lightly whimpering in the arms of his lowly grunting teammates, who seem to be also sporting their own flesh wounds, scrapes, bruises and unnatural limps in their panicked and unsteady strides. Professor Port's thunderous jolly voice somehow still reaching everyone's ears despite the loud cacophony of all the accidental weapon deployments and occasional gun discharges.
"- I roared in fury as I looked at the colossal whale Grimm straight in the eye, the rest of my loyal comrades either wounded or otherwise preoccupied. Panting, I slowly raised my bloodstained fist intending to punch the soulless being's skull in and shatter its bone armor through the withered Aura tendrils that were gathered around my trembling hands and the sheer prowess of my-"
The mysterious cloaked man quietly nods his head and Ruby instantly disappears as the little reaper hastily sprints away from her fellow scythe-buddy. Like a bouncing crimson hurricane Ruby dashes at the other side of the vast cemetery and then releases a drawn-out happy squeal the like of which have never been heard in Remnant before. Dust urns break, glass windows shatter and a myriad of crows and other birds instantly start falling from the bright azure sky.
Feeling the invisible souls of the newly deceased birds approaching him Death blinks awkwardly as the ancient specter of unlife calmly inspects the aftermath of his fellow scythe-buddy's actions. Hmm, not bad. Twenty slain birds and an unconscious drunken shapeshifting Huntsman.. and she didn't even have to use her weapon. His fellow scythe-buddy has some reaping talent indeed. Perhaps he should consider extending her an apprenticeship?
A mere second later and Ruby is standing back next to the black-hooded introvert, a serious expression plastered on the young girl's face as the red themed Huntress in training is thoughtfully rubbing her chin all the while inspecting her new friend's rickety partner with the keen eye of a weapons expert.
"Making changes to an already existing weapon isn't going to be an easy task and to top it off your scythe is made out of solid wood and steel. Have you ever tried dust etching? Modified the blade? Maybe we should add a ballistic knife along the length of the scythe's shaft with a hidden trigger-button attached on the handle?"
The cloaked stranger first nods, then shakes his head at the next two questions and finally shrugs in clear disinterest. The strange man slowly raises a bony white finger once more and lightly taps it against a specific part of the weapons leaflet. Ruby's gaze follows the trail of the deathly pale digit. The little rose frowns in thought as the young girl examines the depicted item.
"You want to add a shotgun to it? Are you sure that you don't want something cooler and more unique like.. an electrified scythe-whip that shoots missiles! Or!.. Or!.. Maybe a scythe-railgun or scythe-harpoon combo!"
Another quiet nod later and Ruby looks disappointed for a second or two before the crimson themed team leader abruptly sends a warm smiles towards the shy and reclusive veteran Huntsman. The petite girl suddenly reaching out to grab the hand of her fellow scythe-buddy.
"Oh fiiine I guess, it is your weapon after all and so you get to pick whatever you want as a secondary mode! Come on now, let's go! I know a good weapon shop around here, but we will have to hurry in order to get there before it closes for the day!"
The mysterious veteran Huntsman doesn't utter a single word as he allows the little reaper of team RWBY to drag him away from the old cemetery and the guffawing mustached lunatic that's still chattering among the remaining trapped Beacon students and the quiet graves and the faded pictures that are perched on the gray gravestones.
"-The fight was challenging to say the least, a fierce test of my endurance and skill as a Huntsman! Inch by inch I scaled the back of the great white whale, the salty seawater mercilessly splattering against my determined face, obscuring my vision as I tirelessly climbed towards the sole intact eye of the soulless gargantuan Grimm monstrosity. My only weapons being my muscled, but strained body and a golden teaspoon that I had secretly managed to procure from the piles of treasures that were littering the ancient whale Grimm's subterranean lair."
"And yet I wasn't afraid of death, my lads! I grit my teeth as I stared into the angry scarlet eye of the gargantuan Grimm whale! Man against beast, and beast against man! Both of us ready to pounce once more and seal the fate of the other-
Nora frowns, her turquoise-colored eyes following the departing swarm of moaning, injured students that are hastily limping away from the talkative professor and his endless boring speeches. The young Valkyrie spares another quick glance at the departing flood of fresh patients, nods to herself and then presses a small button.
Her war hammer, Magnhild instantly shifts and transform into a rocket launcher. Nora determinedly aims the barrel of the weapon towards her right leg, grits her teeth and before Ren can stop her she pulls the trigger.
…
A loud explosion suddenly shakes the old grey cemetery, screams of fear, shock and sheer terror abruptly radiating from inside the rouge pillars of smoke and the hungry pink flames that are currently licking the ancient gravestones as Beacon students start frantically fleeing, scattering in all directions.
…With narrowed beaming eyes and grateful wolfish smiles perched on their smug faces
The stern visage of Miss Goodwitch's portrait silently resumes angrily glaring at the ensuing mayhem that occurs. And then the cracked grey stone slab of the blonde Huntress' grave mysteriously starts repairing itself, a faint purple Aura emanating from just underneath the freshly disturbed soil.
