Tomorrow is my last day of work before it breaks up for the holidays. Major stress, panic and deadline day. Yay! Obviously, no update next week due to my week off (23rd – 29th) so be aware of that.

Looking forward to a break. I've been exhausted lately. More all the end of year stuff piling up than my writing, but all the time I have to spend on that obviously impacts my writing at the same time. I'll be looking forward to a relaxing new year with any luck.

Cover Art: Mystery White Flame

Chapter 40

Atlas was one of those places that didn't really sleep. The city was so bright and lit that even gone midnight, a mugger would have been hard-pressed to find a shadowed corner to hide in. Like Vale, it had an over-population problem, but unlike Vale it hadn't tried to ship that off to a new city with disastrous results. Instead, Atlas built up. Apartment blocks were everywhere, squeezing as many people as possible into a vertical space. Maybe in a few hundred years it would be a city of tall spires crammed full of citizens like sardines.

If so, he'd still be around to see it.

"Be careful," Blake said, for all the world like he needed to be warned on caution. She missed the sarcastic roll of his eyes. "Atlas can be dangerous at night. Don't trust anyone and don't leave my sight. I can look after you."

Ozpin had to remind himself it wasn't patronising because he was a fourteen-year-old boy to her.

"Are you listening, Oscar?"

He sighed. "Yes, Blake."

"There's no need to be like that about it. I'm only looking out for your safety."

"Yes, Blake." He tried to sound a little less dead inside that time. Really, life would have been so much easier if he could leave Oscar to handle this up until something went wrong. Not if, but when. If there was one thing he'd learned dealing with students, it was that they could commit suicide by table corner if you took your eyes off them for ten seconds.

Naturally, such was always his fault, followed by a lengthy health and safety consultation that would force him to outlaw square tables in favour of round ones. People would then laugh at or insult him, saying he was wasting his time. Make a huntsman academy, they said. It'll be fun, they said. Well, no one had said that, but if they had, they deserved a swift crack to the jaw.

"What are we looking for?" he asked, genuinely a little upset that he had to ask in the first place. Sadly, the understandings of terrorists was something beyond his ken. "I take it we're not expecting to find someone handing out fliers."

"You'd be surprised."

"No," he deadpanned. "Tell me you're jesting."

"Not fliers literally saying to join the White Fang, no, but you could have people handing out ones for faunus community groups or free seminars on how to handle prejudice. Things to gather faunus that are unhappy and where the White Fang can subtly approach those they think might make good members."

So, White Fang had been in Vale handing out leaflets and he'd never noticed. How galling.

"I doubt we'll see that this late. Handing out fliers is a dangerous job when you're a faunus, especially if the nightlife gets rowdy."

Ozpin looked around the completely empty streets. "The party certainly is booming," he said, voice thick with sarcasm.

"I said if, Oscar. Don't be smart. And it's not as though we'd find someone handing them out on empty streets either. They need to stick where there is plenty of foot traffic." It was Blake's turn to roll her eyes and mutter, "Obviously."

Ozpin opened his mouth, ready to bite back and heap on some more snark, only for Oscar to interrupt in his head. "Are you getting into a fight with a teenager? Aren't you, like, a thousand years old?"

"I'm not trying to compete with her," he boldly lied. "And besides, I'm only asking this for your benefit. I already know everything there is to know, obviously, but it wouldn't do for me to try and fix all your problems for you."

"Oh. That makes sense."

Perfect. It wouldn't do to admit he was basically following Blake around aimlessly now, would it? Sigh. Glorified babysitter duty was just that, except babies at least had the excuse of being cute when they weren't puking, peeing and pooping everywhere. Okay, so babies weren't cute either. At least they could be easily distracted with flashing lights, random noises and a crib.

Truly, the greatest invention mankind had ever created was the crib. A bed with bars, like a prison yet somehow societally accepted as being an acceptable thing when it came to not having the energy to deal with your children anymore. Throw them in bed-prison and forget about them. If only he could have enforced the same on Beacon.

No, Ozpin, we can't treat the students like naughty children, Glynda had chided. And you can't enforce a curfew and lock them in their rooms just because you think they get up to things when we're not watching.

Who had the last laugh there? If he'd been able to lock them all up, Cinder's team wouldn't have infiltrated them so easily, and he wouldn't be stuck following an edgy teenager through the middle of Atlas.

"You're really bored, aren't you…?"

Yes. Yes, he was. He'd done the huntsman thing. He'd done Beacon, he'd done fighting and he'd done being a teenager. Multiple times; for all of them. Sure, the enemy might change – switch a human supremacist for a faunus one – but it was always the same in the end. Kingdoms at peace, people get complacent, something bad happens, Salem tries to take advantage, he has to step in and sort it out. It was a routine by now.

"We need to find a collection of faunus," Blake said. "Let me do the talking if we do. It's best we visit a bar or club for that; lower inhibitions tends to make people a little wordier. Pull off the angry faunus routine and see who reacts."

"Very well. To the local nightlife we go."

Blake winced. "You may be a problem there."

"Why? I can handle my alcohol, thank you."

"How-?" She sighed and shook her head. "I'm not going to ask who gave you alcohol. I'm talking about the fact you're fourteen. And not `tall for your age` fourteen either. You look your age."

Ah. That would be a problem. It really was hard sometimes to remember how small you were. He felt it hardest when he was around Miss Rose; nothing hurt quite as much as having to look up to her. It really was a bother.

"Well I'm sorry for being short!" Oscar whined.

"You're forgiven."

"What? I wasn't-"

"I'm prepared to wait outside if I must," Ozpin said to Blake. "I'm sure you can stay out of trouble inside and I'd hear if any fight started."

"It's not me I'm worried about…"

"You're afraid I'll be in danger?" he asked, shocked. "That I'll be abducted by someone?" He couldn't quite hold back the snort of laughter. "I think I shall be okay, Blake, but if it makes you feel better, I'll scream t the top of my lungs if someone tries anything."

Blake sighed. "I guess that'll have to do."

Finding a nightclub wasn't hard but finding one that accepted faunus was harder. Oh, they didn't all ban faunus – none did, in fact – but it was easy to watch the reactions of the bouncers when Blake approached without her bow and figure out where they were welcome and not. White Fang sympathisers wouldn't be wasting their time in clubs that pushed potential recruits away, so Blake and he moved on at the slightest scowl or tightening of muscles, eventually finding a smaller, dingier place with two faunus bouncers outside.

Not masked. Not White Fang. Really, they were middle-aged, greying and looked like normal folk going about their lives, but the same couldn't be guaranteed for everyone within. The music from inside came out muted, thrumming to a beat that shook the windows.

"Are you sure you'll be okay on your own?" she asked him.

"It's a little late for that now. What are you going to do if I say no?" Seeing her face twist uncomfortably, he took rare pity on her. "I'll be fine. Ruby and Yang have taught me how to fight just fine. If I could handle myself against White Fang and Grimm in the forest, I'm sure I can manage a drunk."

After a few seconds of thought, she accepted with a nod and slipped into the club. The bouncers ID'd her, but since Team RWBY were all eighteen now (with the exception of Ruby) they had little problems. Not that being underage stopped Miss Xiao-Long sneaking into clubs. It's nice to see someone taking their job seriously enough to ask for ID in the first place.

And to keep an eye on him. Blake hadn't asked for it, but it was obvious the two faunus weren't quite happy about a young boy being left outside on his own. At least, he hoped that was the reason they were speaking into communicators worn on the lapels of their black coats.

"What if they're White Fang?"

"Are you going to assume that because they're faunus, Oscar? How racially insensitive of you."

"No, no, no! That's not what I meant."

"Relax. It was but a jest. If they are White Fang, then let them contact who they wish. Your face is mostly unknown to them and I doubt they'll tarnish their reputation by kidnapping a child."

"Don't they execute people…?"

"Choice targets, Oscar. Schnee. Atlas personnel. They're not going to impress potential recruits by killing children. If it helps, you're not in any real danger with me here." Well, other than the danger of having one's soul and mind consumed by him.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, Oscar. Nothing."

One of the bouncers said something angrily to the other and pushed off the wall, walking toward him. Ozpin internally winced. Blast the stupid child body. It made everything more complicated than it had to be.

"Hello there, son," the man said, affecting that kind of overly kind and gentle voice someone did when they wanted to address a small child, make it clear they weren't a threat but also imply to everyone within hearing distance that they also weren't someone with an unhealthy interest in said child.

It was a very complicated voice.

"Quick!" Oscar said. "Act like a child!"

Ozpin smiled like an idiot. "Hello mistah!"

"What the hell was that…?"

His child voice, obviously. Again, he hadn't had much use for it, so it might have been rusty, but so long as he acted like he had zero common sense, overwhelming innocence and a rustic dialect, people tended to assume he was a harmless child and left him alone.

"Or they think you're disabled!" Oscar wailed. "You're making me sound like an idiot!"

"Fitting." Ozpin thought.

"I HEARD THAT!"

"Are you here with your…" The man looked back to the club. "Sister…?"

"Yeppers." Ozpin nodded happily. Also, stupidly. "Big sis is looking for daddy in the music place."

"I'm fourteen," Oscar wept. "I know what a nightclub is…"

The bouncer appeared to relax a little, breathing a sigh of relief. "That's good. So, she's only inside looking for your father? Is she going to come out for you soon?" At Ozpin's nod, the man smiled. "Does your big sis often look after you?"

"Yep. Daddy is… what is it she calls him? A lush?"

"Yeah, I gathered." The faunus sighed. "Tell you what, son. Why don't you tell me your father's name and I'll see if someone can help find him for you? A young lad like you shouldn't be out in this weather, or so late at night."

Of all the things that might ruin their plan, a genuinely nice person hadn't been on the list. Typical. Ozpin tried hard not to show his panic. It was a little too late to pull the `I'm not supposed to talk to strangers` card and Blake would be upset – and thus annoying – if she got drawn out early before she could find any White Fang.

He blurted out the first name he could. "Qrow."

"And what's your last name, son?"

"Branwen."

"Good lad." He patted Ozpin's shoulder. "Why don't you wait here with my colleague while I make a call? Here." The large man shucked off his thick coat, wrapping it around and smothering Ozpin within. "You're a brave boy, son. Don't worry. We'll find your pa soon enough."

He hoped not.

/-/

"Will Qrow Branwen please make his way to the front entrance to pick up his son." The voice came from the DJ, passed on as a message from someone sneaking on the stage. It was a quick shout-out between songs. "I repeat, will Qrow Branwen make his way to the front entrance to pick up his son."

A small glass of Bacardi clicked down, a fuzzy head raising from the bar.

"I have a son…?"

/-/

There was no God.

Ozpin knew that – the Gods were gone, and even if they weren't, they'd kind of been dicks in the first place, so he wouldn't have appealed to them for any help, but even so, there was no deity watching over him tonight, as the dishevelled, drunk and frankly reeking man picked him up with both arms under his shoulders and hugged him tight.

"My baby boy!" Qrow wailed. "Oh, I can't believe you came all this way."

Ozpin's face burned red. He whispered in a snarl, "Let. Go."

"Oh, did you miss me? I missed you too, but you know you shouldn't be sneaking away from your mother, young man. Why, I've half a mind to bend you over my knee and give you a spanking right now."

Qrow's eyes said he'd do it, too. Ozpin glared back, promising death if he tried.

"This is your pa?" the faunus bouncer asked.

Ozpin's nod was the most reluctant thing ever.

"Good." He laughed. "All's well that ends well. You've got a very smart son there, sir. I hope you cherish him." The latter was delivered pointedly, the `stop being a useless drunk and start being a father` unsaid but so heavily implied that it might as well have been written on a billboard.

Qrow's eye twitched. "That's good advice, sir." He clenched his teeth. "Thank you for looking after my son. I know he can be a hassle. Why, he still wets the bed – at his age! Can you imagine it? Honestly, we still have him wearing diapers under his trousers."

"Mommy was wearing a diaper for daddy the other day," Ozpin said innocently. "And they were saying something about… what was it, fetishes?"

The bouncer looked ill, taking a step away.

Qrow blanched, clamped a hand over Ozpin's mouth and laughed nervously. "Well, I guess we should go home. Don't want him losing sleep when he has school on Monday. Thanks for the help and everything." He dashed away. "Bye!"

The closest alleyway provided a safe refuge, and the second they were within, Ozpin had Qrow's hand twisted back painfully. The huntsman yelped, quickly brought low in a submission hold while Ozpin loomed over him.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!"

"That's for suggesting I wear diapers," Ozpin hissed. "Consider yourself lucky. You might be dying now if you'd actually spanked me."

"H-Harsh." Qrow winced and rubbed his hand, not at all repentant. "And you think you had it bad. Imagine my surprise when me son turns up while I'm out drinking. Do you have any idea how close I was to scoring with this hot chick?"

"Knowing you? Not close at all. Oscar has better odds pulling than you do."

"Hey. That's cruel." He laughed it off. "So. What are you doing out this late in the middle of Atlas? Doesn't seem like something Jaune would ask you to do." He paused, then looked back at the club with a long sigh. "Don't tell me Yang's in there. Wait here, I'll go drag her out."

"Not Yang. Blake."

"The edgy one…?"

"The same," Ozpin said with a nod. "We're investigating the White Fang. James doesn't want Beacon's involvement public and so has barred Glynda and Jaune from doing anything. He didn't think to control the students, however."

"Sounds like him."

"Indeed. And you, Qrow? Does Jaune have you looking for information?"

"Ah. Yeah." Qrow laughed. "Sure."

"You're just out drinking, aren't you…?"

"No…?" He tried to look innocent. "Okay, fine. It's a bit of both. I wasn't sent here for the White Fang – they hadn't even made their presence known when I came – but I've done a little looking since. Figured it'd be worth staying around to get the scoop. I heard the news from Beacon, too. Congrats on killing Watts."

"I wish I could claim responsibility. Sadly, it came with a caveat."

"Yeah, Cinder. Heard that too. Lot of reporters around here weren't happy with it. The propaganda engine is in full swing against Jaune – and it's all against him. They're being very careful not to associate Beacon with him where they can. Weird how they're saying Beacon and Atlas are allied, while Atlas and Beacon's headmaster are enemies. Plenty of backhanded compliments going around."

"Not unexpected. Really, I don't think Mr Arc will care."

"Nah. He's thick-skinned."

He wasn't; he simply didn't care for what Atlas thought. That was, in this case, a good thing. They had bigger issues to focus on. "I'm going to have to call on your help, Qrow. Miss Belladonna is busy trying to find the White Fang, but you can cover more ground in your avian form."

"I can't. You told me not to fly when drunk."

"And you have never before in your life heeded my advice. Don't pretend to start now."

"Alright, alright." Qrow sighed and crossed his arms. "I have been doing a little looking in my own time and I might have narrowed down a potential place for meeting. Been looking for large congregations of shifty-looking people late at night, and after following a few faunus to strip joints, drug dealers and affairs, managed to find someone actually up to no good. There's a warehouse down by the docks. It's always warehouses with these guys. I'm not sure why I'm even surprised at this point."

Warehouses were convenient, Ozpin chose not to say. They were often abandoned late at night, had limited security in some circumstances, plenty of space and were, by design, kept away from well-populated areas. You could even hire space in one, and if you wanted to store contraband, dust or weapons, then what better place to hide it than right under the city's nose? So long as you crated it up and stamped it with some other produce, you were fine. Atlas only checked goods going in and out of the city, not those languishing in a warehouse.

"Well, let's check that out," Ozpin said. "We just need to find Miss Belladonna…"

A black rope coiled around Qrow's neck from behind. The huntsman had the time to blink before he was wrenched to the side, pulled over Blake's back by his neck and then catapulted into a collection of trashcans. He smashed through them, hurling trash everywhere and causing several bin bags full of food waste to explode.

"Oscar!" Blake hissed, placing her hands on his shoulders and her face in his. "Are you okay? I knew this was a bad idea. Step back. I'll take care of this creep!"

Qrow groaned.

For the first time in a long while, Ozpin burst out laughing.

/-/

"I'm sorry."

Qrow grumbled and trudged on, stinking of cabbage, rotten citrus and trash.

"I'm so sorry!" Blake repeated. "I couldn't find Oscar and then the bouncer said his father had come to collect him and I panicked! When I found him, he had his back to the wall in an alleyway with a strange man looming over him. What was I supposed to think?"

Ozpin snorted again.

"I'm really sorry. I didn't recognise you from behind."

"It's fine," Qrow hissed, making it clear it very much wasn't as he stomped down the less populated warehouse district of Atlas. "Totally fine. Peachy, even."

"I do detect a hint of peach." Ozpin said. "Though it's rotten." Qrow glared his way, making him stifle another laugh. "Don't worry, Blake. I'm sure Ruby's uncle forgives you for attacking him and throwing him into trash. It's not like he was doing much else tonight, or that it's his first time collapsing into the garbage."

"This close." Qrow held his finger and thumb up, close together. "This close to scoring."

"Knowing your luck, Qrow, she would have been a convicted criminal. Or a Grimm in disguise."

"Yeah, well I'd have at least liked the opportunity to find that out for myself." He sighed. "Damn it. She was so exotic, too. Silver hair, pale skin and grey eyes. Trifa. Damn, she was hot."

Blake's head perked up. "Did you say Trifa…?"

"Hm. Yeah." Qrow looked excited. "Do you know her?"

"Yes. She's part of the White Fang. One of Sienna's… well, she used to be one of Sienna's most trusted allies."

Qrow stared ahead woodenly. "It could have worked out..."

"She's a spider faunus."

Qrow shivered. "I don't judge."

"Fires webs from her hands."

"Could be kinky."

"And has massive grey veins up and down her body, originating from hands that are a solid blackish grey in colour for some reason. You can even see those veins pump sometimes."

Hm. Like Salem.

"I-I could have handled it," Qrow said, looking vaguely ill. "And I don't judge based solely on looks. It's the personality that matters."

"Trifa once said the White Fang would be better off if they sterilised captured humans so they couldn't reproduce." Blake made a snipping motion with her fingers and Qrow, Ozpin and even Oscar flinched back, the latter managing it without even a body. "So yeah," she said, "You can go back and try and get with her if you like. Just don't come crying to me if you wake up less of a man."

"Fuck my luck…"

"Wow," Oscar said. "That's really unlucky. I mean, what are the odds?"

"With Qrow? Good."

Out loud, he said, "There's always a chance she was genuinely interested in you, Qrow. Perhaps she thought you a bird faunus. Regardless, we've work to do tonight – and Yang and Ruby would be upset if you let us get into trouble without supervision. Let's scout out this place and get back to the academy safe and sound."

"Blake and Yang are going to be angry anyway," Blake murmured.

No, Blake. No. Ah, it was too late. Qrow glanced over and his eyes narrowed. Wonderful. Successful or not, Qrow would now be spinning a tale to his nieces to make himself look great and them like truant runaways. No matter what they found out, they were going to be rinsed dry by the time Ruby was through with them.

"You mean I am," Oscar muttered. "You'll just go to sleep and leave me to deal with it."

"That's our deal. I handle the fighting and you get to reap the benefits of being on a team with four girls. Having a girl angrily tell you how worried she is should be a fantasy of yours - it's just like those insipid harem cartoons you made me watch where multiple women lose their minds, sanity and respect over an unremarkable boy."

"It was a good anime..."

As they reached the next warehouse, Qrow motioned for them to keep low. Blake and he did so immediately, all amusement fading as they focused on the scene ahead. There wasn't much to see about the warehouse – Terminal 6 as it was called, or more specifically Terminal 6, Unit 4-B, Paragon Industrial Park. It was quiet at so late an hour. The iron-grill fence was closed over the perimeter wall and the roads leading to and from it were empty.

"No lights on," Qrow noted.

"Of course not," Blake said. "They're faunus."

Perfect night vision. Rather convenient for the whole clandestine meeting thing. Miss Belladonna could naturally see through it, but he and Qrow were out. Even in his crow form, he'd be of no use. They weren't nocturnal like owls.

"I can sneak in," Blake said. "I'll see what they're up to, listen and report back. If worst comes to worst, you can get back to the Academy and-"

"Alternatively," Ozpin interrupted, "We can go back now and call this a success."

Blake rounded on him. "What!?"

"He's right," Qrow said. "We found the White Fang. That's mission success as far as I'm concerned. Infiltrating now is a risk we don't need and it's better we don't spook them and make them change locations. I'll sneak back in during the day and set up some listening devices. If they meet tomorrow night, we'll be able to hear everything said."

Ozpin nodded, pleased with the decision.

Blake was a little less so. "What? We're just going to leave?" She lurched toward the warehouse but Ozpin was ready and caught her by the arm before she could charge in. Qrow took her other. "Let me go!" she hissed. "This is a perfect opportunity. I can get in easily. Adam won't be there-"

"Is she always like this?" Qrow asked.

Ozpin grunted, struggling to hold her with his smaller body. "Pretty much. Ow. Blake, listen. Ow! Listen!" He gripped her arm tight. "We can't start a fight in the middle of Atlas or we'll be the ones in trouble for it. We have to let Atlas have a hand in stopping the White Fang or the headmaster will get in trouble again. You don't want that, do you? Imagine all the paperwork he'll force on you."

Blake stilled. "I… that… well…"

"That's right, Blake. The paperwork." He watched her shiver. "They'll want reports, written apologies and probably a press release. You'll need to write all that out with flowery language talking about how great Atlas is-" She twitched violently. "How you were wrong to interfere in business they had in hand." Her lips peeled back. "And then finishing by saying how you imperilled the investigation by taking affairs into your own hands."

"That's ridiculous!" she growled. "Atlas hasn't found anything. They're useless!"

"I happen to agree," Qrow said, "Which is why we do things by the book, slow, and then when it works out, we stand tall and smug over Jimmy Irondick and force him to acknowledge and thank us for our assistance. Make him and all of Atlas swallow their pride."

What a selfish sentiment. They should be doing this for the betterment of Remnant, to stop the White Fang and protect the world against Salem. The fact that Blake stopped struggling at the idea, however, had Ozpin rolling his eyes.

"Rub it in their faces?" she asked quietly.

"Oh yeah," Qrow said, smirking. "I can't wait to see what colour his face goes when he has to publicly thank us for doing their job for them. I'm thinking puke green, but it might be more a purple if he's really pissed off. Imagine it, Brake. Imagine it."

"Blake."

"Whatever your name is."

Blake stared at the warehouse longingly.

"Retreating now will also lessen the roasting we'll inevitably get from the team," Ozpin pointed out.

"Fine…"

/-/

"I'm proud of you."

Yang, Ruby and Weiss squawked unhappily at the praise Jaune offered, instantly complaining about how Blake snuck off, took Oscar with her and basically did the same thing she did all the time when the White Fang were involved. Difference being; she'd done it this time with his tacit permission.

"You snuck off, but you didn't cause trouble," he said. "And we didn't explicitly ban you from going out at night, so it's not like we can punish you." They could, of course, but wouldn't this one time. Glynda nodded from behind, in agreement.

"But Jaune!" Ruby whined. "Blake promised not to sneak off again!"

"That's your business, Miss Rose," Glynda said. "And the headmaster is not saying Miss Belladonna is without error, only that he is pleased with her knowing when to back off and report to us. You're free to chastise her how you wish for failing to have the common courtesy to inform you of her whereabouts."

The three of them glared at Blake's back. Blake cringed, but accepted what was going to happen.

"I want to be involved in the attack," she said.

"What attack? We haven't even decided anything yet." Seeing that it wasn't pleasing her, he added, "You'll all be involved in whatever happens – Ironwood has already said so. But before that, Qrow is going to scout the place out and collect some evidence. No use busting them without proof of wrongdoing. We'll also have to wait on Ironwood to make the first move."

"Will he?" Yang asked. "You don't think he'd refuse to act on this to spite Beacon, do you?"

"James would not do that," Glynda said. "Politics takes second seat to action in his book. I expect he'll want to confirm it himself, but once he has, he will move swiftly. You may all be called to take part in that action, but I expect your role will be more rounding up prisoners and preventing people escaping rather than being involved in the assault."

"It's still necessary work," Jaune said. "If any escape, they'll warn Adam and the main force will relocate. We need to capture these people and interrogate them before Adam can figure anything out, so for the love of coffee, do not get bored, decide you'd rather be in the fight and leave your posts."

"I won't," Blake said.

"We won't let Blake do that." the other three said at the same time.

Blake shot them a betrayed glare. She'd be fine. For all their bluster and complaints, Jaune had a feeling they were pleased she'd not gone and done anything reckless. They had Ozpin to thank for that, though they didn't know it.

"Glynda, will you request a meeting with James? I think he'll be a little less furious if it's you. Blake, get some sleep." He watched her about to complain. "If General Ironwood wants us to move immediately, you won't be in the assault if you're not rested."

She was out the door almost instantly. He heard the door to Team RWBY's room slam shut and could imagine her throwing herself into bed. Yang snorted, while Weiss could only shake her head and Ruby had Oscar by one ear, already lashing verbally whipping him for having enabled Blake's reckless behaviour.

There'd be much more of that before the end. Jaune sighed and stood, dismissing the girls while making his way to the room next door. It was time to get Cinder on board, and preferably before she did something ridiculous, start a war and then say she assumed it was his intent in the first place.

At least they'd found the White Fang. Or Qrow had. Now, it was time to act.

Wow. Blake manages an information gathering mission without it descending into chaos or robot fights on the streets. Blake… Are you dying? Is it a terminal illness? Quickly, someone loosen all the zips making up her costume. It's cutting off the blood flow to her head!

What do you mean her entire costume is nothing but a zipper!?

I'm a little tired today, so instead of getting a proper Professor Arc omake, you get a mini omake poking fun at canon instead. It's not malicious, don't worry. In fact, it's more me poking fun at a question I get a lot. Not so much for this story, but especially for others where it's applicable.

Omake: or "Why don't you ever write about Jaune's weapon upgrade from Season 4?"

-Season 4-

/

"Jaune, this isn't what I meant by upgrading your weapon."

"What do you mean?" Jaune looked up from his new sword, smiling proudly at Ruby, Nora and Ren. "It's been upgraded to have bits of Pyrrha's weapons and armour mixed into it. And better still, it's now got a mecha-shift option. Look!"

Pulling up his sheathe, he affixed it over the blade, causing it to shift into a longer variant which he gripped in two hands, swinging with heavy blows.

"See!?"

"Jaune…" Ruby sighed. Jaune was her friend, but still, weapons were her thing and it had to be said. "That's the worst upgrade for your sword I've ever seen."

"What…? Why?"

"Look." Ruby brought out her scythe. "You see this? It's a melee weapon." With a push of a button, it shifted. "Now it's a sniper rifle. Do you see Ren's guns?" She pointed and Ren displayed them as requested. "They're guns. Now, they're knives."

Ren did the transformation.

"Nora's hammer is a hammer, perfect for melee, but with a switch of a button it's a grenade launcher, perfect for-"

"BLOWING THINGS THE HELL UP! Whooo!"

"Yeah," Ruby said. "That. You see, our weapons transform to fill a niche we don't have with just one form. If I'm up close, I can use Crescent Rose as a scythe. If I'm far away, I can use it as a sniper rifle. It's the same for Ren and Nora. And for Weiss, Yang, Blake, Pyrrha and just about everyone else. It's two different weapons."

"Mine is two weapons…"

"Jaune, that's a sword and it transforms into a... it transforms into a sword…"

"Exactly. Two weapons." At her unimpressed look, he pouted. "It's a bigger sword."

"Yeah, by about two inches. Your idea of a `ranged option` is an extra two inches. And you need to put your sheathe onto your sword to do it – which isn't exactly quick or easy in the middle of combat and also robs you of your shield. Heck, you could just have a bigger sheathe and it would do the same thing!" Ruby scowled. "At least Adam's sheathe was a shotgun! Come on, Jaune. Sheesh."

Jaune looked upset and Ruby felt a pang of sorrow.

"It's okay," she said, nudging his side. "I just want to help. You need to improve on the things you don't have, not buckle down on the things you already do. You're already good in melee. You don't need to upgrade your sword to be `gooder` in melee. You need to think outside melee. You need a gun, Jaune. A gun. Your sword needs to shoot, your shield needs to shoot or your nipples need to shoot."

"Okay." Jaune smiled. "I think I've got it. I'll keep it in mind for next time."

"A gun," she repeated. "Say it, Jaune."

"I need a gun," he dutifully said.

"Perfect."

/

-Season 7-

/

"Guys, I upgraded my weapon again!" Jaune yelled, running up with a huge smile.

"Really?" Ruby hopped up and grinned. "Show me, show me, show me."

Jaune brought out his shield. "See. My shield used to just be a shield that could block bullets, attacks from Grimm and everything the enemy threw at me. Now, I've had it upgraded with amazing Atlas technology to do THIS!"

He pushed a button. Energy poured out, extending it.

"Now it's a slightly bigger shield! How about that? Cool or what?"

It took them two days to get Ruby to stop crying in the corner with her head in her hands.

I hope that explains why I don't go into detail on how Jaune uses his "super awesome" weapon transformation from season four in my fics. Well, aside from the fact it would also be weird to write. I'd have to write Jaune pausing in a fight to bring his weapon down or sheathe it (both of which would leave him open to attack) only to bring it back up again `slightly bigger`.

Jaune's already damn strong in melee. We saw him behead an Ursa with his eyes closed for crying out loud. If he's being beaten in melee by someone more skilled than him (say Cinder, Neo or Adam before he croaked) then I'm not sure how making himself more unwieldy with a bigger and heavier weapon, while also losing his shield, will help him much. And if he's winning the fight, why waste time transforming his sword into a sword anyway? He's already doing just fine.

What he really needs is a gun of some kind.

The shield having shock waves sounds fine (much better than the sword) but it's still not a gun, which is why poor Ruby weeps. Also, doesn't this mean he can't even use both variants at once now? or is the claymore sword going to have this energy thing added on top? That could actually be useful if it did...

Either way, the shield? Decent. The sword. So bad!

Next Chapter: 2nd January (Two Weeks)

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