Chapter 6: Trouble brews in the Catacombs of Pleasure?

Sorry for the wait. Here's some more bullshit.

"This isn't my car trunk" Qrow observed after he figured out how to open his eyes again.

The drunken stupor he had awoken from was matched only by the drunken stupor he found himself in now. Had he taken a wrong turn whilst stumbling through the vaults under beacon? It certainly seemed so, as the abundance of ambient skeletal corpses indicated.

"The Pleasure Catacombs huh?" snarled the somehow still employed teacher.

"It is HE!"

"Don't you mean him?"

"We mean what we fucking want!"

"Well that is in fact a thing." Qrow mused.

The being in front of him was a single writhing mass of skeletal anonymity. Copy and pasted skeletons clamoring on top of each other seeking release from the rage that bound them to this world. This world which held no place for them, as they had discovered heartwrenchingly. Each had awoken long dead, the flesh rotted from their bones. Some found their dearest loved ones already perished, a few from suicides brought on by the now skeletons passings. Others still found the remnants of their old lives carrying on, and as such were rewarded with those closest to them screaming and running in terror of the monster they would never recognize.

Being bonebro is suffering.

Qrow knew what he must do.

Silently he unsheathed his guitar and looked on at those forgotten souls seeing quite a bit of himself in them. Loss is the nature of cool adult characters and he knew as such more than anyone.

Letting loose a solemn power ballad, this drunkard wished nothing more than to help these vessels of rage and tears.

"Sleep, friends"

"We will not." this congregation of restlessness spoke in unison, as all skulls turned towards Qrow.

The legions of bonesmen split apart to an extent as great appendages of linked human arms cascaded around Qrow.

Skeletal streams of thousands of corpses linked like human towers numbering in the dozens began to descend. One then another crashed within feet of Qrow, kicking up his tattered cape.

He shifted to his side and looked upwards at the core of this beast, and felt thankful that at the very least he still had a few crazy kids to keep him in line.

An arm crashed where he once stood and exploded into bone and stone shards. Qrow sat crouched fifty feet along the length of the arm and dug his guitars blade near his foot and sprinted. He raced along the the length of this decrepit limb and slashed once at the creatures supposed head before landing on a lonely pillar far behind the beast.

Its split arm reforming into two noticeably weaker versions. He saw he had a choice to make in regards to fighting a foe centered on quality or quantity.

All at once it's shambling extremities crashed into his position from all sides destroying the pillar where he had stood.

It was then the creature noticed him standing atop another pillar on the other side of the great cavern. He finished drinking from his flask and wiped his the droplet of liquor which had snaked its way into his stubble with the sleeve of his shirt. This all seemed familiar to him. The scraps of cloth that clung to every twelfth or so skeleton screamed of some prior affiliation.

The mass of hatred adopted humanoid shape and dislocated all writhing extra limbs to the area of its back. This thing arched backwards knees bending, as its wayward limbs grasped for the ceiling from the small of its back. It let out a screech three parts animal screeching and two parts unknowable sorrow, and Qrow finally acknowledged these things as no longer human.

Qrow began once more to play his guitar. His hair and cape flowing backwards in the wind generated by the air pressure differences his guitar was creating. The creature attempted an attack yet Qrow slid forward on his knees. Off the pillar. He just sort of floated there.

His guitar raised in an unearthly solo generated a vacuum field of the metal, acting as a barrier between him and his skeletal adversaries.

He let loose his metal and condensed it around his blade, standing now on the empty air before the body of his prey. Dragging his blade behind him, managing to grind it on air, he rushed forward now placing both hands on his weapon.

"Kishin hunter." Qrow whispered as he stood now on the other side of the beast.

The creature was engulfed in a field of imperishable light that spread this beings ashes across the atmosphere, to settle across the graves and homes of their once beloved families and friends.

"At last" a voice was heard " the Salvation Army may rest."

"Well they're coming home now." he sighed as the dust and ash settled both on the battlefield, and on the remains of their former lives.

"You did it." Whiskey-chan whispered, embracing him from behind.

"I know." he said as he drank the sentient whiskey.

"Hey Qrow bro." called Ozpin softly.

"Oh. Hey Ozzy-P. And you to Penny."

"So they finally rest?"

"Yes."

"So Qrow. As it turns out I might have kept them here to seal away an ancient evil."

"Shit."

"Indeed"

It was then that a great inferno emerged from the back of the Catacombs of Pleasure, as countless jetpack wearing skeletons in spanish armour fled through the hole Qrow had made. Well that was going to require Glynda to fix.

"Well it looks like you've unleashed the carnage conquistadores. They are a legion of six hundred and sixtysix Spanish warrior skeletons with jetpacks and motorcycles. "

"As long as we hold fast to hope we will be ready." expressed Penny.

"You're right penny." Qrow said as he looked into the distance.

What he saw was the likeness of Ruby and Yang formed by the perfectly positioned bodies of falling students who were not likely to survive this.

"As long as we have hope."