A/N at the bottom.
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Crimson awoke with a start, shooting upright and bringing one of her pistols to bear in a flash. She was breathing heavily and drenched in sweat, leaving a damp silhouette where she was laying.
God...DAMMIT! she swore to herself, her senses flooding back in a wave of comprehension. She was in her own room at Beacon Academy, after a grueling day of training for the Vytal Festival tournament. She and Team RWBY had been working hard for days now, and tomorrow would be the first day of the tournament; she could finally see the fruits of her labors.
And as an added bonus, none of her Team would die this time around.
She sighed, turning over the small weapon in her hand. "I thought I was done with these damn dreams…," she said to herself, putting her gun away. This always happened when she awoke from one of her nightmares, the product of the Commander's intense training and the constant threat of getting ambushed in the middle of the night.
After that painful, twisted memory on her first night here she'd had a fairly pleasant nights' sleep, awaking to sunlight streaming through the window instead of the lingering images of her past. She couldn't remember having any dreams one way or the other these past few nights, which was a wholly welcome change of pace. Maybe it was the intense training she was putting RWBY through or something, she just couldn't give an answer as to why her demons suddenly decided to leave her alone.
But, of course, there was a reason why she couldn't have nice things.
A glance at the time on her Scroll told her that it was close to dawn; too early for anyone else to be up and about, but too late to go back to sleep with how wired she was right now. She tossed her meager covers off (they essentially amounted to a single, very thin sheet) and headed over to the small half bath by the room's door. She splashed some water on her face and closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the sensation of the cool liquid.
When she opened them again she was greeted by Blake Belladonna, her eye glowing red and a trickle of dried blood running down her forehead where she'd been skewered.
"Fucking fuck," she sighed, grabbing a towel from the rack, "It was too much to hope that you'd fucked off for good, wasn't it?"
You're forgetting you mission, the specter told her, her unblinking eyes laser focused on Crimson's face, You're supposed to be making sure I don't happen...or do you want to see all that death and destruction a second time?
"I'm working on it," she protested, taking a change of clothes out of her dresser (Weiss insisted she have spare clothes) and heading down to the showers by the Gym. The specter followed her, "You try searching an entire country's worth of people and information and tell me if you have any better luck finding the cause of the apocalypse."
I didn't know horsing around with your past self and her friends counted as "searching".
"I'm teaching them how to fight," she explained, turning a corner, "with what's coming, they need all the help they can get."
And yet none of that effort will matter when the machines begin slaughtering people because you were too busy ignoring the bigger picture to tinker with You from the past. The specter continued as Crimson futilely stuck her fingers in her ears in an attempt to ignore it, First it's just a few deaths here and there as people ignore the fact that Atlesian Knights supposed to prevent casualties because, hey, it's only criminals and terrorists, right? Then, the genocide comes out of nowhere, the people completely unprepared for it because they were too busy treating the symptoms of the disease instead of finding the cause and fixing it. Crimson had now taken to going "Lalalalala!". Slowly but surely Humanity is pushed back and is put permanently on the defensive. Then, the machines get the bright idea to use chemical weapons to neutralize the Faunus, one of the few advantages against them we still had, in the most horrific way possible; making the humans do their job for them, turning friends into instant enemies for no other reason than to get them to start killing each other.
By this point Crimson had reached the showers and chucked her stuff unceremoniously into an empty stall and headed into the one next door, hurriedly cracking the water on full blast before she even started to strip.
That was when it started, wasn't it? the specter asked as crimson tossed away the last of her garments and let the scalding water run over her, Back when the infection first affected me, that was when you started becoming a team killing fucktard, right?
"Shut up…"
"Ruby Rose", the prodigy Huntress who was accepted into Beacon two years ahead of schedule, Ozpin's ace in the hole, Little Miss Team Leader, Summer's daughter...the biggest piece of disappointing bullshit in all of Remnant.
"Shut up."
It was me, then that squad of soldiers you took to try and take out that Paladin factory, then half of JNPR when they tried to rescue you, then those refugees you were supposed to escort back to the Tower, then Yang...
"Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutup-"
Then that new "team" of yours you used to try and replace your old one. All those people had one thing in common; you were the one who was supposed to keep them safe. It was your responsibility to make sure they didn't die, and look at how well that turned out, huh? Their blood is on your hands; It's. All. Your. Fault-
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Crimson slammed her fist into the partition that separated stalls, making a hole right through to the other side. "I'm working on it, OK?" she said as she retracted her fist, "So just fuck off and let me fix the future in peace!"
When she looked up again the specter of Blake had vanished.
"Well," she sighed, "time to get serious." She turned off the water (it hadn't really been helping much, all things considered) and reached around the other, undamaged partition for her towel, beginning the process of drying herself off. "Time to have another chat with Ozpin…."
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
"Stop!" Emerald held up her hand, putting her gun back in its holster, "you're doing it all wrong."
Across the ring, Jaune let Crocea Mors' shield fall to his side as it folded back into its compact form.
"But that's how you're supposed to hold it," he protested, "arm across your front and the shield facing outward, right?" He mimed out the action.
"True," she said, trying to to grimace at his poor form, "but your footing is all wrong." She walked over to the scraggly Huntsman, "You've got to brace yourself with your foot or else…." As she reached him she gave Jaune a light but firm shove, sending the boy toppling backwards. "You see?"
"Yeah," he groaned, rubbing his sore backside, "I get the picture." The mint haired girl reached down and offed him a hand up, which he gladly accepted.
After helping him to his feet, Emerald knelt down and manipulated Jaune's legs into the proper position, the blond Knight's face rouging slightly at the touch.
"There!" she said satisfied with her work. She jogged back over to her original position and drew one of her guns once more. "Let's try this again!" she called, aiming at still blushing Jaune, "Defend!"
Shaking his mind clear at the command, Jaune held his shield at the ready and waiting for Emerald to attack.
"...Hold it at more of an angle," she said, forgoing her attack in favor of one more instruction.
"Uh, why?" he wondered.
"Just do it!" she snapped. Jaune did so, looking unsure but compliant. "OK, here I go!" She called, pulling the trigger.
Jaune squealed as bullets ricocheted off the shield.
"Did you feel anything?" Emerald asked.
Jaune thought for a moment. "...No, not really."
"And that's why you angle the shield." She walked back over, flicking out the blade on her gun. "Now think fast!" She swung at him, Jaune reflexively bringing his shield to bear, parrying the strike and bashing the weapon aside. Emerald quickly drew her second gun and, in a quick, fluid motion, had the second blade against his neck. "Well," she said, "at least your reflexes are good."
"Y-yeah…," he gulped, "thanks to Pyrrha."
"She a good teacher?"
"I-I guess. I mean, before I came here I could barely hold my own against my little sister, and now I'm defending the city from the Grimm-! Um...can you, maybe…?"
"Oh, sure." She put her guns away and wiped her brow. "Anywho, I think that's enough practice; let's get back to our room before they start missing us, OK?"
"Yeah, good idea." Jaune folded up his shield and grabbed a water bottle, taking a sip. "Hey, thanks for helping me out like this," he said, "I know Pyrrha will appreciate getting some time to train by herself instead of worrying about me."
"I'm sure she'll appreciate the effort."
Jaune smiled at the thought as the two of them made their way back to their respective dorm rooms. Emerald had asked him the other day if he wanted to train with her in the morning before everyone else woke up. He thought it would be a good way to get some extra prep in before the tournament so he said yes, and for the last few days they'd gotten up before around the crack of dawn and helped each other improve their fighting. (Though Emerald ended up doing most of the helping in the end.)
And while he'd probably have to come clean to his teammates about this at some point, the thought of seeing Pyrrha's face when he suddenly improved one and a half fold the next time they sparred proved too irresistible.
He figured it was the least he could after for her after everything she did for him.
"So, same time tomorrow?" he asked.
Emerald shook her head. "The tournament's tomorrow," she reminded him, "Besides, I can't think of anything else I need to work on. Can you?" He thought for a moment, then shook his head. "See? And anyway, I think we should probably focus on training with our own teams for a bit."
"Ooh, good point," he conceded. They walked in silence for a bit before reaching Emerald's temporary dorm room. "So, um," he wondered, "are you going to compete in the Singles or Teams bracket?"
"Probably the Singles," she answered, shrugging, "my team's kinda jerks. ...well, Mercury is. Cinder's cool, but sometimes the whole 'I'm so cultured and proper' things gets a bit annoying. And I still haven't seen our fourth since we got here."
"Oh. Well, Pyrrha, Ren, Nora and I were gonna do the Teams one, so at least we won't have to worry about our teams fighting each other." Jaune shuffled nervously, unsure of how to end the conversation gracefully. "Um...see you later?" he finally decided on.
"Maybe; like I said, I'm probably going to be training with my team, so I'll probably be pretty busy for a while." She unlocked the door with her Scroll and, smiling, gave Jaune a friendly wave goodbye. "Good luck," she said, disappearing behind her door.
Jaune stood outside the room for a minute before he realized that his team would be waking up soon. Checking his Scroll to make sure it wasn't too late he hurried back to his own room, hoping none of his friends decided to be particularly light sleepers today.
On the other side of the door, however…
"And where have you been, young lady?" Mercury pressed, "Your mother and I have been waiting up all night for you!" He put on a look of mock horror, "...where you out with a boy?"
"Fuck off!" she retorted, flopping down on their shared bed, "I am doing my job; how many 'converts' did you bring in recently, hmm?"
"A couple," he shrugged, "I wasn't really keeping track of the exact number."
She wasn't buying it for a second, "It was zero, wasn't it?"
"Guilty as charged," he answered unashamedly. He held out his arms limply in front of him, "Go on then, arrest me, Officer Sustrai. Or are you too busy making kissy faces with Scraggly Boy?"
He received a pillow to the face for his efforts.
"Why do I put up with you again?" she griped.
"...because I'm dynamite in the sack?" he ventured.
Emerald was about take a wild swing at her partner when "Children." sounded behind them. They both turned to find Cinder walking (though "strutting" would be a more apt term) out of the bathroom, a damp towel wrapped around her hair and wearing her Haven Academy uniform.
"What have I told you two about bickering?" she asked, giving both of them a hard stare. "We're almost at the tipping point for our operation; we can't afford to let our emotions get the better of us now."
"Hey," Mercury protested, "my emotions are perfectly-"
Cinder focused her glare on the silver haired boy. "You're antagonizing," she stated, "which I normally wouldn't have a problem with if you two were in public since it helps with our hiding in plain sight, but when it's just the two of you there's no excuse."
"Sorry…," Emerald said penitently.
"I know you are, Darling, but I'm not the one in need of an apology." She nodded her head towards Mercury.
"If you say so, Boss," Mercury said, "I would have forgiven her anyway, but-"
"You apologize too," she said, an edge creeping into her voice, "I heard everything, and you were the one who started this."
"Aw, do I have to?" he whined.
"Yes you do, and neither of you are leaving this room until you properly make up." She unwrapped the towel and tossed it aside, letting her hair fall naturally around her shoulders (and in front of her left eye). "Now I'm going out for a bit, and when I come back I expect to see the both of you getting along. Otherwise…." She let the threat hang, strutting out the door to wherever it was she was going.
Mercury and Emerald started at the door, then at each other.
"Well?" Emerald asked expectantly.
"Well what? It's not like we actually have to do anything, Cinder's probably gonna be gone a good while with...whatever she's doing." He laid down on the bed and dropped a pillow (he still hung onto the one Emerald threw at him) over his eyes, "Let's not apologize and just say we did."
"Whatever." She got up and grabbed a towel, "I'm gonna take a shower, don't bother coming to join me."
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Despite becoming something of a semi-regular occurrence since she first came to Beacon, Crimson could never get used to taking the long walk up to Professor Ozpin's office (not counting the time she was escorted there by Glynda after kicking Yang and Cardin's asses, she was still high on adrenaline from that fight). Ever since getting called up there after fighting that woman in the CCT the action had always carried with it a small sense of dread that turned out to be impossible to shake. Things only got worse when Commander Goodwitch established the Dead Fantasy resistance in the CCT tower instead of better; people would die and she'd get called up to the Commander's office, piling even more shit onto the already decent sized mounted that came with it.
Nobody could properly appreciate the conflict she was going through right now. At least, no one she could think of either now or in the future…
It didn't help that she knew that Ozpin was one of the most personable human beings on the entire planet, old habits were just hard to kick.
I hope he's actually awake, she thought to herself, or else I just made this whole trip for nothing. She reached the elevator that lead up to office and stepped inside, hitting the top of only two buttons on the inside. As the door closed and the box started to rise she couldn't help but think that elevators were one of the worst places to be when you were running from a horde of killer robots; they were slow as fuck and way too easy to trap people inside. If you managed to climb through the emergency hatch then it was a one way trip higher up, and only served to delay the inevitable at that point. If you did make it through, well...that was one less coffin the Undertaker had to worry about making.
Not that Undertaking was really a necessary job when all that was left of you was a puddle…
She shook the overly morbid thought from her head and focused on the reason she was doing this in the first place: finding the person responsible from the future going wrong and shooting them between the eyes before they could do that.
Not surprisingly, she hadn't been given that information before they sent her back in time; in the chaos of the Robot Uprising people were more focused on staying alive than keeping detailed records of how the calamity went down, and if some crazy bastard had done that, they'd never been found. What people did know (or at least reasonably suspect) was that whatever happened, happened either during or immediately following the Vytal Festival tournament. Penny was suspected to be a major factor in it, though Crimson always had her doubts about that. Regardless of Penny's involvement, someone found a way to make the Atlesian Knights self aware (not to mention bloodthirsty), or else they just spontaneously overrode their own programming and decided "We don't need to listen to those fleshy things anymore, whoever gets the highest kill count at the end of the day wins!"-
She was interrupted from her slightly asinine though by the elevator door opening, revealing the Headmaster just standing there. He was wearing a pair of dark green pajamas and holding a mug of coffee in each hand.
"Coffee?" he said, offering one of the mugs to her. "I made it with cream, sugar, and vanilla."
"Uh, thanks…," she said, reflexively accepting the cup. "So...how did you…?"
"There's a camera on the inside, above the doors." He said this nonchalantly, before taking a sip from his own mug. "A holdover from the previous headmaster, but it helps me know what to expect when someone comes to call."
Huh, so that must be why nothing ever seemed to phase him…
One question down, her eyes traveled downward. "...and the bunny slippers?"
"They're comfortable," he shrugged. After taking another sip of the earthy liquid he made his way back to his desk. "I must confess," he said, taking a seat, "I was toying with the idea of coming to see you myself, but it seems you've just saved me the trip." He set his mug down and rested his elbows on the desk, crossing his fingers. "Now, what seems to be troubling you?"
"Well…." Crimson headed over and sat in the chair that rose from the floor. She wrestled with her thoughts from a moment. "...let's just say that I've recently been feeling like I've been ignoring my mission."
Ozpin raised a curious eyebrow.
"Not that I haven't been having fun with my younger self and everyone," she continued, "but at the end of the day I haven't stopped whatever messes up the future, or even come close to learning exactly what it is I need to prevent." She sighed, looking at the headmaster pleadingly, "You haven't figured out what that is by any chance, have you?"
"No," he smiled, "I'm afraid I haven't." He reached over and grabbed his Scroll, opening a few files before handing it to the future Roby Rose, "That doesn't mean I've been idle, though."
She took the device and looked over the files, a set of three dossiers, her eyes widening a moment later. She didn't recognize the stoic looking man or feral looking woman in the first two, but the third she recognized immediately; it was the man who was practically like a second father to her, the man who first taught her how to fight with a scythe in the first place.
"I figured you could use some help in your investigations," he explained, "Qrow and his team have been keeping an eye on the more unsavory goings on in the Four Kingdoms over the years. Hopefully, they should be able to help you find what you're looking for easier. I trust you don't mind this?"
"Absolutely not!" she cheered, "This is great! I literally haven't seen Uncle Qrow in years! Oh my god, we have so much to catch up on!"
"Well, I'm glad you approve." He motioned for his Scroll back, the ecstatic Crimson tossing it at him absently as she reveled in the few good memories she had left. "They should be arriving in the city later today, if you'd like to greet them."
"Sure!" This was almost too good to be true! Honestly, she'd completely forgotten about Qrow, but considering how scarce he tended to make himself it didn't come as too much of a surprise; she hardly ever saw him when she was part of the Dead Fantasy, though as far as she could recall there had never been any news of him dying. And as ambiguous as that fact ultimately was, she'd always went with the "no news is good news" school of thought in regards to him.
And to finally get the chance to see him again after so long….
"You don't mind if I hang out with them for a while before I get started, do you?" she asked, looking imploringly at the Beacon Headmaster, her bottom lip quivering slightly and her eye glimmering with tears just waiting to burst forth.
The effect, though diminished, was still potent enough to cause Ozpin a small chuckle.
"Go right ahead," he allowed, "it will give me some time to sort through the information we have currently. Though if you wouldn't mind indulging me then I'd like to talk with you for a bit." He activated the terminal in his desk and, after typing in a few commands, turned back to Crimson." "We can get to the pleasantries later," he said, a red light blinking on the holographic screen, "but I like you to tell me every last detail you remember about how the future became the one you showed us. And I do mean everything, even if something seems insignificant; we'll fill in all the holes when Qrow and the others get here."
Crimson nodded, sitting up a little straighter, her face dropping its earlier mirth.
"Then let's begin." He pushed a button on the keyboard, and the red light stopped blinking.
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Everyone was still asleep when Jaune arrived back at JNPR's dorm room: Ren laying on his back with his hands folded over his chest, Pyrrha on her side with one hand under her pillow, the other holding the loose blankets close, and Nora half sprawled on the floor, her headphones sliding off her ears, holding a stuffed sloth toy, and drooling slightly.
"Zzzzzzzzzz!"
And snoring.
Satisfied his teammates were still in dreamland, he tiptoed through the door, closing it gently behind him so the lock barely clicked. He then grabbed his onesie and hurriedly stripped out of his combat gear, tossing it over the end of his bed as he zipped himself up. He quickly made sure that Crocea Mors was resting against his small nightstand and slid under the covers, settling in for a minute before finding a comfortable position. If he was lucky he could get some extra sleep in before-
"T.O.P.! T.O.P.! BOOOOW to the Tower of Pimps!" suddenly blared through the room, utterly demolishing the early morning silence as it repeated on a ten second loop.
Or...maybe not.
"Zzzz- Training time!" the bubbly berserker declared, now spontaneously awake. She flipped backwards so that she was standing before leaping over her bed, doing a forward somersault in midair. Surprisingly, she managed to stick the landing.
"Was that frontflip entirely necessary?" Ren asked without opening his eyes as his partner swiped her Scroll from her nightstand and shut off the alarm. From her bed Pyrrha moaned as she was ripped from her REM cycle, sitting up and stretching her arms behind her.
"Absolutely!" Nora answered immediately, "It was for style!" She placed her sloth toy reverently on her pillow (which remained used from the previous night's sleep) and grabbed her combat outfit, heading for the dorm's meager shower, "Also, Shotgun the bathroom first!" She then disappeared behind the bathroom door, the lock clicking shut a second later.
"...whatever," the stoic gunslinger shrugged, also getting out of bed. He gathered his own toiletries (including his bottle of Samurai Shampoo) and waiting for his childhood friend to emerge. "Remind me again why she set her alarm for so early?"
"I believe she mentioned that she wished to get as much extra training as possible in before the Tournament," Pyrrha recalled, going through various stretches to help her body wake up. "Either that or she simply wanted to be first in line when signing out Team up."
"Both!" supplied Nora, sticking her head out of the bathroom door, water dripping from her hair.
"...oh."
"Multitasking!" she beamed, disappearing back into the dark recesses of the bathroom.
Pyrrha blinked for a moment before shaking herself back to her senses, "Anyway, both ideas have merit to them. I wonder which we should accomplish first?"
"Perhaps we should ask our Fearless Leader his opinion?" Ren suggested, jerking his thumb at Jaune, who was trying to block out the everything (in the hopes of getting a few more minutes rest) by holding his pillow over his head.
Walking over to his bed, Pyrrha began to gently nudge the blond Knight in his shoulder. "Wake up, Jaune," she prompted, "we should make the most of our day now that most of us are up."
"Mmmm," he groaned, "Ten more minutes…."
Pyrrha shook her head. On one hand she could understand Jaune's reluctance to be up and about so early, (Nora maybe setting her alarm a little too early in her fervor), but something in the back of her mind nagged at her that things were off in some way. He'd also been sluggish in waking the past couple of days, more so than normal. (And that was without Nora's little stunt like today.)
She couldn't put her finger on why she thought that, though; she was clearly missing the one bit of evidence she needed to get her answer.
However, before she could ponder what that piece could be, Nora came barreling out of the bathroom (fully clothed and her hair wrapped in a towel) and leaped into the air, spreading her arms wide as she began to descend on her team leader, shouting "WAKE UP, SLEEPYHEAD!" as she did.
This finally managed to get Jaune's ("AAAAAHHHHHHHH!") attention, the scraggly teen rolling onto the floor before Nora slammed onto his bed, causing the pillows to fly into the air briefly.
"What the hell, Nora?!" Jaune yelled, getting to his feet, "Who wakes someone up by jumping on them? ...who's older than four years old!"
"You're awake now, right?" she said, ignoring the near staccato beat of her team leader's frenzied heart. "Besides, I used to do that all the time with Ren, and he never minded." She turned to her old friend and partner, "Right, Ren?"
Slam! went the bathroom door, her inquiry coming just a second too late as Ren disappeared from sight, the sound of running water starting up a moment later.
"Aw!..."
"...Anyway," Pyrrha said, trying the question a second time, "Do you think we should begin training for the tournament, or should we make sure our team is registered first?" She began gathering up her own outfit as she spoke, as well as the proper toiletries for when Ren was finished with his morning routine; as undoubtedly comfortable as her silk pajamas (red with gold hems, of course) were, they weren't exactly suitable attire for either task.
Her question was answered by the rather audible growl that emanated from Jaune's stomach.
"...Yeah, let's get breakfast first," he added, "After that I guess we can get registered."
"Of course!" Nora exclaimed, smacking her forehead, "Breakfast! Why didn't I think of that before?"
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Well, that took longer than I wanted. Not because I had trouble with anything in the chapter itself, this time it was due to me being distracted by this and that.
I promise I'll do my best so that it doesn't happen again.
So let's talk about the Future for a minute, since I didn't say anything last chapter. Aside from the obvious Terminator influence, (and like just about everything else in this story), I've been trying to go completely my own way with everything, possibly with the obvious exception of certain tropes inherent in the setting. Though to my knowledge a chemical retrovirus that only targets Faunus is a first for the Robot Apocalypse genre, at least in the mainstream cultural zietgiest.
Also, you'll notice that up until this point there haven't been any mentions of the Faunus in the future, save for vague tidbits from Crimson that relate specifically to Blake. Well, this is why; [in cannon] as of the last thing Crimson remembers, the Faunus are either completely extinct or are super rare in Vale to the point where they're technically a functionally extinct species, especially since they're more of a liability than an asset anymore.
And regarding Crimson's flashbacks, I'm probably only going to do one more of them before the end of the story. However, while I'm loathe to spoil anything, let's just say that it's going to be the worst one yet, and will hopefully make the other two seem happy and bubbly in comparison if I do my job right. Tee hee hee.
On an unrelated note, I have mixed feelings about the recently confirmed Japanese dub for RWBY Vol 1; on one hand I'm interested to see how well the dubbing is, but on the other hand this is only going to cause all the fans who hold to the opinion that "RWBY R TEH ANIMEZ!" to keep doing the things I ranted about in my editorial two chapters ago. (I'll spare you all a repeat of that and just say RWBY is about as Anime as Nickolodeon's Avatar franchise; good, yes, and wears its influences on its sleeve, but not the same as Dragonball Z or Cowboy Bebop or Steins;Gate.) Anyone else have any personal thoughts on this development? Feel free mention it in your review. Just...be aware that other people's opinions may differ from your own, so please don't start a flame war or anything over the issue; at the end of the day RWBY is still awesome, and that's all that matters.
In closing, longer waits between chapters may become the norm from now on, but I'll still do my best to crank out as much as I can. Though as of this posting, I'm going to be shifting some focus over to a Fire Emblem: Awakening one shot idea that's been nagging me recently, so be sure to check that out when it's done!
Until next time!