Ignore the troll spamming guest reviews as usual

Choppy chapter today as there needs to be a lot of mini-scenes and PoV changes

Cover Art: Serox

Chapter 20

The various designers were called to attend backstage in their private booths, and it was there that Sun filled him and the others in on his brief interaction with the Subtle Spices model. The proof wasn't definitive of yet, but Lisa hadn't led them wrong so far.

"We've got bigger problems though," Yuma said. "Beacon are here."

"He knows." Trifa eyed Jaune evilly. "Since he made out with one of them."

"Dude…"

"I know." Trifa huffed. "The enemy, right there in front-"

"Dude. High five!"

Trifa made choking motions with her hands.

"It wasn't Blake, was it?" Ilia asked insistently.

Jaune replied in the negative since Trifa was too busy throttling Yuma and he was sure Adam would rant and rage in his head if he claimed it was. Plus, he didn't want to have Ilia jealous at him as well. "Nah. It was the brunette. Coco. And it wasn't a real kiss. She staged it."

"Coco? The one with the leather pants?"

"The brunette."

Ilia looked none the wiser.

Jaune sighed. "The one with the leather pants."

"Ohhh." Ilia gave a thumbs up. "Nice."

Down Ilia. Down. Shaking his head, Jaune closed the door behind him and shied away from Trifa. She hadn't been in a good mood since his dance with Coco, which he had a feeling was less to do with any real jealousy and more the fact that she now had to act the part of a woman who was either a) too dumb to realise her boyfriend just cheated on her or b) was a gold digger who didn't care and was only after Vivian's money. Given that she was a spider faunus and the references some could make to black widows, he didn't want to consider the latter.

"The job is still the same," Tukson said. "Impress the judges and impress Subtle Spices."

"Yes. We need one of their contracts and the best way to get it will be to have one of you hired." He looked to Bane, Yuma, Sun and Ilia. "That means we need the four of you to kick butt out there. Now, I won't lie to you. It'll be hard."

"Oh. Oh." Sun grinned. "Inspiring speech."

"Yes." Jaune faced them all. "Your competition is better than you, more experienced than you, has actual fashion designers working on their outfits and knows exactly what to do to make this work, while you're all complete amateurs with no knowledge of what a strut is, being dressed by a man who thinks hoodies and ripped jeans are cool."

Sun's smile faltered. "Inspiration feels less comforting than I thought it would."

"-but I believe in you," Jaune said. "And I know you'll go out there and kick everyone's asses. You'll show them just what you're made of."

"And how will we do that?" Ilia asked.

"I have faith in you, Ilia," Jaune said, resting a hand on her shoulder. "To discover the answer to that mystery yourself."

Her eyes were flat. "You have no idea, do you?"

"I'm delegating the idea making process to you."

"You're dodging responsibility."

"No, Ilia. I'm empowering you to make your own choices. Besides, your job is to walk in a straight line. How hard can it be?"

"Harder than you're making it sound," Deery warned through his earpiece. "I've been doing some reading up on this show and it's ruthless. There's been rumours of sabotage in the past, all unsubstantiated but the accusations are still there. I'm looking through videos of the catwalk now."

"Good idea. Anything I can use?"

"It's not just walking. It's… I guess you'd call it freestyle?" Deery sounded uncertain. "I'm sending a clip to your scroll. Take a look."

The others crowded around as Jaune drew it out and opened the clip. On it, a model came out strutting up the stage, pausing at the end to pose with one knee bent. She turned both ways, pirouetted and then walked back. It looked fairly standard, but it was the next that was different.

A guy this time, but he came rushing out onto the catwalk with a flaming brand in hand and an outfit that `claimed` to be inspired by Menagerie, if Menagerie was some tribal nation set back some thousand years or so. He danced and jumped around the stage swinging his torch like a caveman and dressed in brown leather. The burning brand bathed his skin orange as he posed like he was ready to wrestle a Goliath at the end of the catwalk, then hopped and danced back.

The third consisted of two women dancing together, swaying in and out of one another's reach in what looked to be two halves of a single outfit connected by gossamer threads of silk. When they stepped apart, they were as good as half naked, while together they formed a single outfit with two heads.

"I'm confused," Yuma summarised. "Vaguely aroused, but mostly just confused."

"We're all confused," Jaune said, intentionally ignoring the other part. "But I think what Deery is saying is that walking up there isn't going to cut it. It's half fashion and half spectacle…?"

"That's what the reviews of the show say. The critics are throwing words like passion, story and bravery around. It's like these models are fighting Grimm or something. Courageous colours and dashing patterns. Primal energy and reckless power. A cry of victory set in silk. A song of needle and thread. How pretentious is this?"

"Maximum pretentiousness," Ilia said.

"Which means we'll need to do the same if we want to stand out," Trifa echoed.

"No." Jaune's eyes narrowed. "No. We need to go deeper…"

/-/

Ruby was a huntress. Ruby had faced death. Ruby had fought monsters. Ruby was busy hyperventilating and doing her best to hide under her chair, all the while fighting off Coco's attempts to drag her out.

"I can't do this! I can't do this!"

"You can and you have to."

"No! You can't make me!"

"First of all, I can," Coco said. "But secondly, I'm not doing this to be mean. You guys set yourself up for this PR thing. That means you need to get used to being the centre of attention. Now stop hiding under that chair before I decide to make it part of your outfit."

"Why are you designing out outfits again?" Yang asked. "I look like an idiot."

"You look awesome."

"Awesome, huh?" Yang looked down at the ridiculous mishmash of colours and fabrics draped over her. "I wouldn't be caught dead wearing this out to town."

"Obviously. Shows like this aren't to highlight mainstream fashion. They're to share ideas. Extremes. Maybe, like, a tenth of the stuff you see here will go out to the public, but companies will be taking ideas from everything. Little bit of a sleeve here, a dress there, the colour from that. It's about impressing, and you're not going to impress looking like any other girl on the street."

"I don't see why we're encouraging and not arresting them!" Blake snapped.

"Because they haven't done anything wrong yet." Coco rolled her eyes. "How many times do I have to say this?"

"They killed Adam!"

"In the past. I'm talking about the now. Why are you not in your dress?"

Blake crossed her arms. "I'm not playing this stupid game."

"Stupid? Blake, this is a mission."

"It's a waste of time. They're terrorists, killers and thieves. We shouldn't be competing with them in some asinine fashion contest. We're huntresses!"

Coco sighed and stood, letting go of Ruby and holding her arms out. "Alright. You win."

Blake blinked owlishly. "I do…?"

"Sure. We'll not do this." The decision had Yang and Ruby relaxing as well. "Course, that means the White Fang wins too." That changed their tune. All three went rigid. "Because like it or not – call it childish or not – they're here and they're competing, which means they have an interest in winning. So sure, you lot have decided this is a waste of time. Cool. Guess that means there's no one to stop whatever dastardly plan the White Fang have. Good job, Team RWBY. I bet Ozpin and the city will be real impressed you let your egos dictate which jobs you take and which you don't."

"That's not… I mean…" Yang trailed off.

"She's trying to trick us," Blake said.

"Am I? The White Fang are here. You know that. Jaune Arc is here and competing. You really think the best way to stop them is to totally let them get away with whatever they want to do? You really think that's the way to beat them, Blake?"

"…"

"Or," Coco said, "Do you want to fight them wherever they come."

"W-Well yes, of course."

"On the streets."

"Yes."

"In the forests."

"I said yes."

"On the catwalks."

"…"

"On the catwalks?" Coco asked again, grinning smugly. "Because, you know, it's still a battle. Are you going to stand up for justice and beat them back, or is it time for Blake Belladonna to cower away and let the White Fang claim victory?"

"I know what you're doing," Blake said. "I know you're trying to trick me."

"No, babe. Tricking you would mean lying to you." Coco waved her hand dismissively. "I'm just laying it out like it is. Binary. You want to stop them at every point, you can't say that but back out now because you feel embarrassed. All or nothing. Anything else makes you a hypocrite."

Blake drew and released a long breath. "Fine. I'll do it."

"And just like that," Coco said with a wild grin. "We have ourselves a good old-fashioned catwalk-off."

"I can't do this!" Ruby wailed.

"How about you?" Coco asked Weiss. "You're being fairly quiet about all this."

Dressed in a loose white gown with blue sequins, the heiress shrugged one bare shoulder artfully. "I was trained by a model on how to move when I was younger. Father deemed it necessary if I was to be seen at public events. Honestly, aside from being embarrassing, I don't have a problem with any of this. My biggest concern is whether we'll be able to stand out. Everyone here is the cream of the crop. These are the best models in the industry wearing the best fashions."

"Yeah. It's not going to be easy. We'll stick with Weiss for now," she decided. "You three watch how she does it and take notes. We'll use the first half of the show to learn and the second to blow them out the water."

Weiss sighed but did nod, moving toward the doorway. "If this is what we have to do."

"It is. And Ruby, come on, get out from under that chair!"

"You can't make me!"

/-/

"-something red and draping." Perry read to Jaune as he hovered over various materials. "Red on black. Uh. Some grey if you need it – wait, no. Charcoal."

Jaune paused. "The colour or the material…?"

"The colour, obviously."

"Is it…?"

There was quiet from Perry as he quickly read through the article. Considering how weird some of the fashion world was, it really could have been either. Having next to no experience in fashion himself, he'd defaulted to having Perry and Deery act as his wingmen and feed ideas from outside.

It wasn't working well.

"We're getting annihilated out there!" Yuma said, storming back in.

"The other studios aren't messing around," Ilia groaned. "I feel so stupid walking out there. Even when we try to copy the past routines Deery finds, we're looking like idiots."

They weren't winning this. Not by a long shot. It wasn't just his poor fashion sense causing problems. The models they had just weren't knowledgeable. They might have been exceptionally fit, Sun in particular putting every guy here to shame, but they didn't know how to move.

"They're calling intermission," Sun said with obvious relief. "We need to turn this around."

"I know." Jaune groaned. "But how? We just don't know how this all works."

"Then do something new."

"Easier said than done, Sun!" he snapped. "How about some ideas?"

"Calm down." Trifa pushed his shoulders down and rubbed them gently. "Calm down, boss. Sun isn't wrong, even if it's not the most helpful of comments. We can't win this if we're trying to beat them at their own game. We just don't know what we're doing."

"It's not like we have much time to pick this up."

"Then think outside the box!" Ilia argued. In her anger, the colour of her skin flushed red – a bright and vivid crimson that perfectly matched the red fabric he was holding.

Something red.

"W-W-Wait, wait, wait!" Jaune waved his hands at her. Her skin turned back to its normal colour, but he kept going. "No, no. Back to red. Turn your skin back!"

"Change my colour…?" Ilia concentrated and red crept across her face again. "You mean like this?"

Perfect! Maybe. He wasn't sure at all, but it was worth a shot. With Perry yammering in his ear, he rushed over and picked out an outfit, intentionally choosing something that would work with red, but not her normal skin tone. He bundled it into Ilia's arms and pushed her toward the tiny changing room.

When she came out, she looked confused and a little unsure. "I don't know. This doesn't really go with my tone, does it?"

"Then change it. Be red."

Ilia blinked. "You mean use my chameleon traits in the show?"

"Yes!"

"Is that allowed?"

"Ye- actually, I don't know." He pondered asking. "We'll find out. Go out normal and change your skin colour halfway down the catwalk. We'll do it as a test and see what they think. We're losing anyway if we don't."

"I guess I can try it…"

Ilia stepped out the changing rooms and towards the curtains once the intermission ended. The White Fang watched the small TV screen showing the catwalk with bated breath. If this didn't work, there wasn't much else they could do other than hope Subtle Spices thought they were so bad that it would be a mercy to steal their models away and not an investment.

Ilia stepped out. The reaction was polite at best, lukewarm at worst. The critics chatted over her appearance, nothing out of the ordinary, but not impressed either. They mentioned the colours and the weave as she stepped up.

And then the entire audience gasped.

Ilia's skin, normally a rich tan, flooded red. The change wasn't instantaneous – it washed in slowly over her, transforming her skin and her tiny scales like she was heating up from the inside. The colour even ripped up her hair, turning it from rust-red to blood-red. Every step carried it further, contrasting the rich blue of the cloth she wore.

People in the audience began to stand. Cameras flashed.

"It's working!" Trifa shouted.

"Spectacle," Jaune whispered. He cupped his ear. "Deery, tell her to mix it up! Keep changing."

The message must have been relayed because when Ilia reached the end of the catwalk, she struck a pose, one foot forward, hand on hip, and then changed herself to a dazzling purple with hair whiter than any Schnee. The audience erupted into applause as she spun on the spot, stepping purposefully back, hips swaying. The applause chased her off the catwalk, the first real reaction `Ivory Tooth` had received.

Ilia almost stumbled back into the changing room, flush with pride and embarrassment. "It worked! They loved it!"

"Faunus," Jaune said, slamming his fist into his hand. "That's it! We can't beat them at their own game, but we can beat them at what they don't have. Even Subtle Spice doesn't actually do anything with faunus features. Yuma, get over here – I've got an idea!"

/-/

"Daaamn."

Coco dragged the word out, eyes glued to the screen. Weiss was busy fumbling her way into a new dress after having worked her little butt off for the first half. She'd done well and Beacon was about middle of the pack, which considering they'd only sent out one model and she wasn't even a professional, was more than a little impressive. They'd been ripping the White Fang a new one anyway.

Until now.

"Daaaaaamn!" Yang echoed, hissing through clenched teeth as a literal fallen angel descended from the ramparts, gliding down on spread wings, hands extended, chest bare, legs clasped in tight leather.

Her brain said bat faunus, but every other part of her just said `yes`.

The faunus landed, stepped forward confidently and flexed his wings, spreading them out wide. Small bells and silver ornaments dangled from them, chiming and reflecting the spotlights. The fact he was topless should have been pretentious, but it instead acted like a blank canvass, telling everyone there was no fashion to see there because all of it – every bit – was focused on those gorgeous wings.

And they were, she had to admit. Coco was one of the least racist people around but even she had to say she'd never really looked at faunus traits that way before. She'd always done her best to ignore them and see faunus as normal regardless of their traits. Velvet always told her that was the best thing she could do.

How much of a mistake have I made there…?

Ignoring their traits didn't make it better. Pretending they weren't there only perpetuated the idea that they were something unnatural. Faunus clothing sold in stores usually came with ways to either hide, minimise or make their animal parts more convenient. This was the first time she'd seen someone intentionally show them off, and it had her mind running blank.

"You think he's single?" Yang asked.

"He's a terrorist," Blake reminded her.

"Not answering my question."

The audience were up on their feet and clapping in awe; the commentators were going wild. The critics were in heated arguments on whether this was revolutionary or breaking tradition, and if she were being honest those claiming the latter were sounding pretty damn bigoted.

"They're using their faunus parts," Coco whispered. Even as a whisper, everyone heard it. "That's genius! Not only is it the only way they have a chance considering they know less about this than we do, but it sells their message. The White Fang is all about faunus, and you don't get much more pro-faunus than this!"

"They're still terrorists," Blake said, but even she sounded a little unsure of herself. "This is… even if this does wonders for faunus, they still – he still killed Adam. I… peaceful methods…"

"This isn't peaceful?" Ruby asked.

"It is, but… but…"

Coco tuned them out. This changed things. It deserved some fucking praise and hot damn, she'd give it to Jaune for figuring it out, but this was also a glove slapping into her face. It was a challenge. A big challenge!

This wasn't the kind of thing she could respond to with Weiss showing off an exceptional dress. Even if she won on that alone, it would be like losing the war to win a single battle. Sure, she'd come out winning the design side of things, but the conversation – the attention – would be on what the White Fang had achieved. The moral victory would be theirs.

This isn't fashion. This is a political statement. That true beauty isn't just in being human. It's not just for perfectly manicured models and their fancy dresses. Coco's eyes widened. That was it! Her message and her revelation.

"Ruby!" she barked. "You're up next!"

"WHAT!? B-But I'm not mentally prepared!"

I know. That's why you're perfect.

Coco grabbed the girl's shoulders before she could escape. Her dress was a pretty red number with a longer skirt on one side and short on the other, only as high as the knee, but still provocative. Gauze netting hugged her right arm to add a dash of asymmetry. On its own, it wouldn't earn them any credit, especially not straight after the White Fang's opening salvo.

"Just get out there and run to the end of the catwalk," Coco whispered in Ruby's ear. Though Ruby couldn't see it, she wore a sly smile. "The quicker you get it done, the quicker it'll be over…"

"Y-Yeah." Ruby swallowed. "Q-Quick as I can. Got it."

"Make sure to pause at the end!"

"O-Okay!"

Ruby stumbled out nervously and made her way to the curtains, now too embarrassed to back out. Coco closed the door and hurried back to the TV, ignoring the angry glares from the rest of Team RWBY, her older sister especially.

"You could have sent me out first," Yang said. "It's not fair to do this to her."

"Shush. Watch. Watch and prepare to have your minds blown."

On the screen, Ruby didn't so much step out as dart. To them, the sudden rush of red and roses was familiar, but it caught the audience off guard, especially when she streaked to the very end of the catwalk. They barely had time to see the dress. Barely had time to process it. In her panic Ruby came out with Semblance activated, desperate to get it over with as quick as possible. She did remember Coco's instructions, however, stopping suddenly at the end of the catwalk, all attention on her.

It was only Ruby that stopped.

The petals that fluttered behind her whenever she moved carried on, striking her back and fanning out like an explosion of roses. Crimson petals fanned out in every direction, curling around her slim body, pushing her dark locks forward and blasting over the audience. Silence hung in the air, broken only by the soft fluttering of petals dancing their way down across the stunned crowd.

And then, the cheers.

If Ruby squeaked, the cameras didn't pick it up. She blurred left and stopped, blasting more flowers in every direction, then blurred right to pose the other way. With the audience standing up to chap, she turned and fled back into the changing rooms, a streak of fluttering red cloth and roses.

"There!" Ruby gasped, appearing back among them. "I did it and I was awful, and everyone laughed and… and… and is that clapping-?"

Weiss, Yang and Blake stared at her, gobsmacked.

Slowly, Yang turned to Coco. "We can use our Semblances!?"

"If the White Fang get to use what defines them as faunus, there's no reason we can't use what defines us as huntresses. It's Beacon we're representing after all. Not some lame modelling agency. Now get out there and knock 'em dead!"

/-/

"That's cheating!" Trifa yelled at the screen. "Boo! Boo! Semblances aren't allowed!"

The blonde he knew as Yang Xiao-Long stepped out cockily, sauntering down the catwalk in a sassy cross between a dress and a combat outfit. Gone were the gowns Beacon had started with – their outfits were functional now, practically screaming "huntress".

It wasn't enough to wow, but when Yang reached the end of the catwalk, she raised both hands and snapped her fingers. Suddenly, fire burst up around her and her hair started to glow so bright it went beyond gold and became like a second sun. Her bright red eyes stared out challengingly as she posed to one side of the audience and then the other, flames licking up her body without harming her or her outfit.

The audience had never seen the likes of it before. The next person to go up – a regular model – could do nothing. His attempts to flourish and stamp his feet to the beat of the music earned him polite noise at best.

How could he compete with a girl who literally set herself on fire?

"Don't let them get the edge!" Jaune yelled. "Use everything you've got!"

/-/

Bane cut an unusual sight in a three-piece suit with long coattails and a white shirt stretched across his mighty chest. The giant strolled forth with a black cane at his side, which he twirled as expertly as he would his chainsaw. Each step shook the stage, yet for all his gargantuan height there was a grace that underlined it. Belied it.

At the precipice of the catwalk he paused, grunted and flexed his muscles. Fabric ripped and critics gasped, prepared for absolute disaster. His shirt fluttered down, his suit jacket falling as well as the shoulders tore under his sheer girth.

Cries were silenced in an instant.

Skin-tight and bulging around every muscle, a second outfit was revealed – a sporty set of swimwear that one might expect to see on any Mistralian beach. Picking up his cane, he turned it upside down and brought the curved end to his lips, holding it like a snorkel.

Men and women alike crooned, particularly those with children.

/-/

The curtains opened but no one stepped through. For a moment there was confusion – and then a sudden shout and pointed fingers. The floodlights angled up, catching and reflecting off white cloth as Weiss Schnee walked on air, stepping from one shining glyph to another. Not on the ground like the regular people, but stepping from platform to platform with dainty grace, pale white dress shimmering with light.

Each glyph shattered behind her, bursting into fragments of white light that drifted to the ground like fallen snow. As she strode above and down toward the catwalk, she finally stepped off onto the same ground everyone else had to walk upon, then spread her arms wide.

Ice burst up all around her, piercing up and out in jagged but uniform spikes, ice sculptures like a tidal wave fanning out around her, never daring to touch but framing her in the centre of a winter wonderland. Her finger touched and glided down the sharp edge of one before, with a snap of her fingers, she made it explode into fine motes of cool dust floating and dancing in the air around her like glitter.

People rushed to their feet as she turned away with a smug grin.

/-/

Sun strolled out in a tank top and shorts with a rope for a belt, clicking his fingers in rhythm with the beat. The audience clapped with him, waiting expectantly. It was a two man show now. Every model in between Beacon and Ivory Tooth was at best an appetiser. The lights dimmed and the spotlights centred on him. The crowd held their breath.

They didn't have to wait long.

On the third snap, two more echoed as two identical copies of the man stepped out from behind him, glowing as they spread out to form a trio of buff faunus men sauntering down the catwalk in perfect unison.

Several women in the crowd cheered happily. The three took on a triangular formation at the end of the catwalk, posing forward, left and right at the same time. It wasn't over there. In an incredible display of dexterous tail strength, Sun had his tail slip up and wrap around the shoulder of his top. He leaned back, allowing the tail to slide his top off all on its own, then swing it back up to his shoulder where he caught it like a coat, turning to look back with his clones, top flung over one shoulder.

The crowd roared.

/-/

A model stepped out wearing a paddling pool

The audience stared in silence.

The paddling pool walked back through the curtain, head bowed.

/-/

Blake stepped out alone.

By that point, the crowd were already on edge, waiting and expecting the next ostentatious display. Storming forward, the angry looking faunus walked to the end of the catwalk in a tight black and white Menagerie-style kimono, twisting left and right so that the crowd could see her before spinning on her heel and storming back.

Before she could leave, two more stepped out – Weiss and Yang quickly taking one of Blake's arms each and walking back to the end of the catwalk dragging her between them. They wore bright and forced smiles and the faunus in the middle certainly managed to look like she was trying to fight them.

Part of the display, obviously. The crowd began to clap in anticipation.

Yang and Weiss carted her forward and tossed her up into the air. It was a hefty throw, carrying Blake a good five feet up. A pillar of ice burst up from the floor to catch her – or rather for her to land on, scramble and try to remain standing on. Before she could even think to jump off or scream bloody murder, Yang activated her own Semblance and caused fire to blow out from around her, melting the sculpture and making Blake fall.

The audience gasped, but Blake's instincts kicked in. A clone appeared under her, caught and set her on her feet, right as Ruby came skidding up at full speed, arms outstretched and rose petals bursting out over Team RWBY like they'd been fired from a cannon.

The crowd stood silent.

For about half a second.

/-/

"Beat that!" Coco crowed at the screen, punching the air as the critics fell over themselves in their excitement, babbling things that barely even made sense anymore. "Suck it, Jaune! You don't come to my town and beat Coco Adel at her game. Nuh-uh. Doesn't happen!"

/-/

"H-How do we beat that?" Trifa asked, slumping against Jaune's side. "A co-ordinated team of huntresses. We don't have the Semblances, let alone one as flashy as Weiss Schnee's! Why is she even a huntress and not a supermodel?"

"They even managed to incorporate Blake," Ilia said. "Mostly through force, but still…"

Jaune gripped the edge of the table, eyes narrowed.

"Someone fetch me a drum and a miniskirt."

/-/

Ilia was the first to emerge, bright red and somehow convincing everyone it was her faunus traits doing that and not the frilly miniskirt and tight top that clung to her chest and little else. Her belly was revealed, shoulders and arms bare as she jogged out onto the catwalk with a pom-pom in each hand. Swallowing, she jogged to the middle of the stage and pushed them left. Her skin and hair flooded pure white.

Give me an Ivory," she shouted with raw humiliation.

Her body swayed right, changing to a dark black skin and hair tone.

"Give me a tooth!"

Back to the centre, both pom-poms in the air, her body was split vertically down the centre, black on one side, white on the other. Not black and white skin tones either. Pure paper white and inky black, like someone had taken two different colours of paint to her.

"Ivory Tooth! Ivory Tooth! Ivory Tooth!"

A drum began to rattle. Bane stepped out, clad in tight white pants and a red uniform top with gold buttons clasped over his huge chest. He had a drum slung over his shoulders and held in front of his stomach, which he tapped two wooden sticks against. The drummer boy moved slowly out from the curtains and down the left side of the catwalk, keeping a steady drumroll as he went.

Yuma came next in a similar outfit but with his wings bared and a strip of cloth stretched out between them proclaiming `Ivory Tooth` like some kind of banner. He had a trombone in his hands, which he played without any real skill.

It really didn't matter.

The raucous din of an entire marching band soon drowned it out.

Sun Wukongs two ranks wide marched out behind Yuma, dressed in the same red and white as Bane. They were followed by two more Sun Wukongs, then two more and two more still, the long column continuing out the curtains even as the procession was halfway down the catwalk, led by Ilia cavorting and cartwheeling in front of Drummer-Bane.

Ten. Twelve. Sixteen. Twenty. Thirty copies of Sun marched in perfect unison, each carrying a different instrument and doing their level best to make what came out of it sound remotely like a musical tune. It didn't work, but the sheer spectacle of it still had everyone gobsmacked.

/-/

"A marching band!?" Coco shrieked unhappily. "No, that's practically a parade! I can't compete with that! Blake, how many clones can you make?"

"N-Not that many!"

"Gah!" Coco clasped her hands to her face and stormed out the changing room, leaving the four members of Team RWBY to shrug and let her go. There could be no coming back from this. While the sheer exotic skill of Team RWBY would trounce anyone else, Jaune Arc had somehow brought an army to a fashion show.

Was this what defeat felt like? Is this what it tasted like?

Bitter. Painful. Crying.

Coco wiped her eyes, but her fingers came away dry. Crying? She thought with some confusion. Wait, I'm not so sore a loser to cry if things don't go my way. Who is it that's crying out here? The public changing room was mostly empty now that each fashion studio was using their private ones for the competition.

While the din and ruckus of a one-man marching band continued past the curtains, Coco slipped over to a nearby private room, listening in. Considering how important the show was, it was hard to believe some people might be taking their loss poorly.

"Stay still!" a sharp woman's voice hissed.

"It – It hurts. Please…"

"Fashion hurts. You're our best bet of coming out on top of this, now sit still."

"Why is there so much blood? I never agreed to this-"

"You agree to what we say you agree! This year's show is obviously going to a faunus and we need to adapt. They're loving faunus using their animal parts for fashion. We can cash in on that. Stop squirming. I've got it through the holes."

"It hurts! Please stop!"

Coco frowned, ignoring the music outside and resting a hand on the door. Fashion did hurt sometimes, and people could be squeezed into clothes so tight breathing was difficult, but that voice sounded just a little too upset for that. This was a professional show. The models shouldn't be acting like that without good reason.

Sliding the door open, she peeked inside, eyes widening at the sight of a brown-haired rabbit faunus that could have been Velvet from behind. Her long ears stuck up in the air, her face hidden behind her hands in the mirror as she quietly sobbed.

Two older women, human, were weaving golden chains into and between her ears, trying to emulate the animal-trait-centric style the White Fang were cashing in on. It wasn't a bad idea, if done properly.

The metal hammers, holes driven into the faunus' rabbit ears and blood running down her hair brown hair told Coco it wasn't. The rabbit faunus sobbed, and for a moment sounded just like Velvet.

Coco saw red.

Honestly, Weiss would kick ass as a model. There's just no way anyone could compete with her glyphs and her ability to control dust and gravity, let alone if she mastered her Semblance to summon white birds like Winter did. Talk about unfair.

Of course, Sun – or as he's known SOLAR FLARE – gives it his best shot. Hard to argue with those abs, but I'd still give Weiss the win myself. Just the things we've seen her do in the show like forming mist, making ice explode around her, walking on air. I mean, come on, how is Weiss not the single strongest person in all of RWBY by this point? Throw the sword away! It's practically useless compared to the sheer wizardry of her abilities.

Honestly, Weiss' wide range of abilities is why I found it so hilarious when Ozpin told the truth on magic and everyone in the cast was like "OMG". I mean, seriously, have you seen what Weiss does on a daily basis? Most people have like, one ability. Weiss can summon, cast elemental attacks, control gravity and (to a degree) time, and even walk on air. She's practically a wizard herself. In Final Fantasy terms, she's pretty much all the mage classes! And Summoner thrown in to boot.

She can even work as whatever it was – Blue Magic? That rubbish one where you get to learn enemy's spells in certain circumstances. Weiss even counts as that since she can use any enemy she beats as a summon.

Oh, and the paddling pool model is an actual thing I'm afraid. You can look it up on Youtube.

Next Chapter: 18th August

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