Target 'Little Red' acquired. Real name: Ruby Rose. Age 15. Leader of Team RRWN. Emerald mentally reviewed her notes, and nodded in satisfaction. She was pretty confident she'd matched all of Roman's monikers and long-winded descriptions (sweet Grimm, did that man love the sound of his own voice, or what?) to real people. Most of his nicknames, she had to admit, were pretty on point. Except for Buff Emerald. Sage Ayana might have dark skin and green-ish hair, true, but otherwise they looked nothing alike! Seriously, was Torchwick racist or something? Considering how he talked about the White Fang, yeah, he totally was...

Back to the matter at hand. Emerald's mark sat just a few rows in front of her, looking a bit put out. Ruby had just taken taken a rather unfortunate combat class loss against Blake 'Hippie' Belladonna, and was still wiping bits of ash from her outfit. She sat with four other students, watching Mercury pull his tank job against Pyrrha Nikos. Emerald plastered her most innocent smile on her face, and prepared to make some new 'friends'. She was so glad she got to be the social one, instead of the one taking beatings in the arena. Not like Mercury could do her job. The dumbass wouldn't last two minutes before he started cracking jokes about blood and killing kittens and all that typical edgelord stuff.

"...going to the dance with anyone?" she heard a blond boy say, as she got closer.

Ruby shook her head, sending strands of red/black/reddish-black/dark red...whatever color her stupid hair was, flying. "Nah. I'll probably just sit in the corner and drink punch, or something. I'm not much of a dance-y person."

"Nope!" another girl's voice said cheerfully. Emerald saw only a mass of Torchwick-colored orange hair. That could be none other than Nora Valkyrie, alias 'Hammer Girl'. "I prefer to sow my wild oats, know what I mean?"

"Nora!" a head of white hair scolded. Weiss Schnee, Ice Queen. "Do you even know what that means?"

"What does it mean?" Ruby asked curiously. "Wild oats? What's farming got to do with the dance?"

Lie 'Pinkeye' Ren coughed. "Um..."

"Hello!" Emerald cut in with just the right mix of cheer and hesitance "Ruby, right? My name's Emerald! I'm one of the transfer students from Haven." Hopefully interrupting the awkward moment would earn her some good will. "Uh...sorry if this is a bad time. Just wanted to say, that thing you did with the rose petals was really neat." She clasped her hands together and looked away, in a fake display of nerves. "And, er, I'm sure you'll beat that Blake girl next time. The exploding clone, it was sort of a dirty trick, honestly."

"Darn right it was." Ruby pouted, arms crossed. "Uh, I mean, thanks! It's, um, nice to meet you?" She finally registered the stranger talking to her, silver eyes widening in panic. "Um, um, um...so, I got this thing!" Suddenly, Emerald found her face alarmingly close to the pointy end of a giant scythe. Holy crap! The green-haired thief jumped back, checking to see if her nose was still attached.

Weiss sighed. "Ruby, stop introducing yourself like that. It's uncouth."

"Nah, it's totally...couth." Ruby stuck her tongue out. "Besides, it's worked before, right Jaune?"

'Vomit Boy' smiled nervously and nodded. Well, it made sense. If someone walked up to her, brandishing that nightmarish farming tool, she wouldn't refuse their friendship either. Cinder would have approved. "Ah, it's fine." Emerald willed her heart to stop pounding. Damn it, she was starting to understand why this kid freaked Roman out so much. "I think your weapon's pretty neat too, actually. Very...memorable!"

"Aww, thanks." Ruby giggled. She gave her ludicrous contraption a loving stroke. "Her name's Crescent Rose, and she's a high-caliber sniper scythe. She can transform between three different modes—" As the girl talked ever faster and faster, her teammates' eyes started to glaze over. In spite of her growing headache, Emerald forced herself to take in every minute detail, in case they ended up fighting down the line. Oh gods, someone help her...

Ren coughed again. "I don't think she has all day, Ruby. Maybe later?" His pink eyes locked onto Emerald's red; she gave him a look of gratitude that was, for once, entirely genuine. "A pleasure to meet you." He briefly introduced the rest of Team RRWN, to which she feigned surprised delight. "...and that's Jaune, he's not on the team but his team's a bit occupied." He gestured down the bench, where two black and yellow figures huddled over a stack of paper. "It's only two days until the dance."

Jaune gave her a little wave. His eyes seemed to be staring at...oh. Ew. Emerald folded her arms over her chest, and Jaune looked away, pink-cheeked. Okay, her crop top was admittedly a bit skimpy, but she had her reasons! The more people noticed her assets, the less likely they were to notice her hand stealing their...assets. She recalled Vomit Boy's question about dance plans from earlier—nope, nope, nope! 'Befriending' these kids was well and good, but she had standards, damn it. "Oh, the dance! I'm sure it'll be fun!" she said brightly. "My partner and I are quite excited for it."

"Ah. Congrats." Jaune looked at her, then at the arena, where Mercury backflipped away from Pyrrha's attack and landed in a full split. Stupid drama king. "That's cool."

"Yeah. I figured we might as well go as friends." It would be a cold day in Vacuo before she let anyone think she and Mercury were an item. Better to stamp out any misunderstandings from the get-go. She was an agent of an ancient worldwide conspiracy, not some kind of sitcom character. "I mean, we don't really know anyone else here."

"Still." Jaune said. "Sounds nice, being so close with your partner. I—" A pale hand in a black sleeve clamped onto his shoulder. Jaune looked up, with an expression akin to how Roman looked at Cinder (fearful, that was, not barely-concealed-lust).

"Who is this, Jaune? And what are you telling her?" Sable 'Pyro' Schnee hissed. Yup, old Jacques's rumored least favorite child had joined the party. Might as well kill two Nevermores with one Dust round. Emerald re-applied her ingratiating smile, and lowered her head slightly. What self-respecting thief didn't know how to deal with a rich douchebag? "Hello! I'm Emerald Sustrai, from Haven. It's an honor to meet—"

Sable's eyes narrowed. "Shut it." he said coldly. "I see what you're up to." For a moment, Emerald's blood pressure went dangerously high, until she reminded herself there was no way he was actually right. Maidens and magic and Grimm queens? Pfft, who could possibly guess that right away, unless they had some kind of mind-reading Semblance...shit, did those exist? "Huh? What do you mean?" she stammered innocently. "I-I'm just trying to make some friends here!"

"Don't be mean!" Ruby gave the jerk a little prod with Crescent Rose. Emerald was grudgingly impressed when he didn't flinch.

"Look at the facts, Ruby! Here she is, cozying up to us." Sable practically shoved his finger up Emerald's nostril. "And her partner's down there." He pointed at the arena, where Mercury had just wrapped up his tank job, and was putting on an unconvincing sad face. "Runs around the ring for a few minutes, then he forfeits. He's not trying to win, is he? He's observing." The boy's smirk oozed smugness. "Clever little trick, but you're getting nothing from me."

"Ha. You've got it all figured out, huh?" Emerald eye-rolled. Come autumn, and they would wipe that grin off his face. Hopefully she could get a crack at the bastard in the tournament before that, though of course it was all up to Cinder. She'd have him jumping at shadows for the rest of his life, however long or short that might be.

"Well, good luck with your research. See you at the tournament, Sustrai." Sable hauled Jaune out of his seat and dragged him away. "Didn't your parents teach you about stranger danger, Jaune? Don't tell them secret team information, don't take their candy, don't talk to them, don't look at them..."

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry." Ruby whimpered. "I swear, he's actually nice when you get to know him. Sometimes. Deep down. Really deep down."

Weiss sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "He really isn't."

"It's fine. Totally fine." Emerald said through clenched teeth. "Well, I better go check on Mercury! He gets real down in the dumps whenever he loses. I'll, uh, talk to you later." Turning her back on Team RRWN, she walked towards her visibly non-in-the-dumps colleague.

"How goes the befriending, oh master manipulator?" Mercury greeted her with a shit-eating grin. "Boy problems, eh?"

"Shut up." Emerald growled. "Seriously, what a prick. I say hello, and he assumes it's part of some sinister plot." Granted, there really was a sinister plot afoot, but still.

Mercury chuckled. "Smart kid, huh?"

"Of course you'd take his side." Assholes with daddy issues stuck together, it seemed. "Be less obvious with your sandbagging next time, will you?"

Miló left Pyrrha's hand; the javelin whistled across the Beacon roofs and towards Vale, lost in the lights of the city and the broken moon. For most people, that would accomplish little but waste a perfectly good spear, and possibly commit manslaughter by skewering some unsuspecting citizen through the heart. But—as she was constantly reminded, even a continent away from home—Pyrrha was not most people. Reaching out with her Semblance, she flipped the magnetic lines between hand and spear from repulsion to attraction. Miló came closer and closer, until it hit her glove with a solid thwack. Hmm, an inch and a half low. Not bad, but worth another try.

"Whoa." a male voice said from behind her. Pyrrha whipped around. A pulse of polarity burst from her still-glowing hand and knocked her unexpected guest backwards with a surprised cry. The blond boy briefly flailed in the air, but righted himself and landed in a crouch. "Landing strategy." he whispered to himself.

"I'm sorry!" Pyrrha apologized. "Are you all right?" She really needed to stop blasting random people with her Semblance, after the incident with Penny. She was still confused about what had happened back there.

"It's fine." Jaune waved it off. "It's my bad. Shouldn't have startled you like that. Especially with this thing on, huh?" He tapped the metal chestplate he wore.

"No, I shouldn't have—wait!" Pyrrha blinked. "You—you figured out my Semblance? Just from that?" Admittedly, his armor suddenly glowing black was a bit of a tell, though none of her opponents in the Mistral tournament had ever noticed. Maybe they were just an unobservant bunch.

"Well, there was that thing you did with the Dust crates that time. And the cars, the other time. And the time you dropped a million soda cans from the ceiling. In front of the whole cafeteria." Jaune explained. "Wait, were you trying to keep it secret?"

"Oops." Oh well. At least having her Semblance known would make the the tournament more of a challenge, if not having a team to fight with wasn't challenge enough. that was. She still didn't know how that was supposed to work. They lapsed into awkward silence. Pyrrha couldn't recall ever having a real conversation with the boy; they'd seen plenty of each other, sure, but usually there were at least seven other people in the room. "So, er...I haven't seen you up here before."

"Just getting some fresh air. And, uh, thinking about some stuff. This seemed like a good place, for some reason." Jaune said. It really was a nice roof, wasn't it? Like a shot from a movie, Beacon's castle-like main building loomed in the night, topmost tower glowing green. "Didn't mean to mess with your training, though. I can go find another roof."

Pyrrha shook her head. "Don't leave on my account. It's big enough for us both." Shifting Miló to xiphos form, she started on a set of sword-and-shield drills. Jaune watched for a moment, then expanded his own weapon and joined in. His weapon was actually a bit similar to her own; she'd never really noticed that before. For several minutes, there was no sound except for heavy breathing and metal swishing through the air. A tumbleweed rolled across the rooftop. Pyrrha wondered how it had gotten up there. "So...what were you thinking about?" she finally asked. "Sorry if it's personal."

"No, it's not. Just dumb." Jaune said hesitantly. "Wouldn't want to bother you with it—"

She felt a twinge of irritation. "No, by all means, bother me." Pyrrha Nikos was not too high and mighty to listen to some teenage boy's problems, dang it. She stowed her weapon and turned to face him. "I could use a break, anyways."

"Promise me you won't laugh?"

Pyrrha solemnly raised her right hand. "By the waters of the Styx, I swear I will not laugh." Jaune looked utterly baffled. "Er, it's something my mom says...yeah, I promise."

"Right. Right." Jaune blew on his hands a few times, psyching himself up. "So, the dance is in two days, right? And...I don't have a date." He bowed his head in shame, then perked up again. "Holy crap, you actually didn't laugh. Thanks."

"Of course not!" Pyrrha bristled a little. One did not betray an oath sworn by the Styx, lest...well, her mom had never explained what would happen, but it was probably unpleasant. Like death. Not a quick one either, but one of the really gruesome ones, like getting your liver pecked out by a giant Nevermore. "It's nothing to laugh at. You're hardly the only one."

"Yeah, but it's sort of lame." Jaune squeezed his hands together. "I guess it's not really surprising, is it? I mean, look at me, and look at them..." he ran a hand over his face. "Sorry. You don't need to hear my whining."

"Don't sell yourself short." Pyrrha advised. "You had some, uh, growing pains, that's true, but I'd say you've proven you belong." Surviving to the second semester as Sable's partner was some sort of accomplishment. "And your team would agree. Even if some of them...have trouble showing it." she added tactfully. "They literally fought a battle to get you back, remember?"

"I know." Jaune nodded. "And I'm not quitting. I owe them that much. But seriously, it's still sort of depressing how far apart we are, you get me? I mean, they're all so strong. And confident, and good-looking..." he choked on his words. "Um, not that I think about them that way! Not a lot, anyways! I mean, objectively speaking, they're all very...aesthetically pleasing? They've probably got to beat people off left and right. Beat them off of them, I mean!" Jaune put his face, now matching her hair in color, in his hands. "Oh gods, please don't tell them I said any of that."

"I promise I won't?" Jaune's logic seemed a bit questionable—looks and skill were no guarantee of luck in that department, as she could tell him (but wouldn't). Why exactly had she felt qualified to listen to his problems, again? She was a champion in combat, not psychology! "Um, so about the date thing...is there someone you actually want to go to the dance with?"

Jaune tilted his head one way, then another. "Maybe?" he said. "I mean, I think we get along, and I like spending time with her, and she won't kill me for asking. Probably." he chuckled nervously. "I guess I'm just worried it'll be awkward if she says no. Or if she says yes. Like, I'd be cool going to the dance together but I don't know about, you know, holding hands and buying a house and having eight kids—"

"Jaune!" Pyrrha shook him by the shoulder, putting a stop to his word vomit. "Calm down. Take deep breaths." She had no idea why his mind jumped from 'dancing' to 'eight kids', and wasn't sure she wanted to know. "It's a dance, not a marriage proposal. Just be honest with her about your reasons, and I'm sure it'll be fine. No matter her answer."

"You really think that'll work?"

"Well, it's what I'd want someone to do for me." Pyrrha replied. "I mean, some people go really over the top with this stuff. Writing poetry and setting it to guitar music, that sort of thing." With a shudder, she forced memories of her Mistralian fan club to the back of her mind. "But personally, I think that just comes off as fake."

"Haha, yeah! Only a total idiot would do that, right?" Jaune laughed. "But thanks, Pyrrha. I think I feel better about all this." He folded his shield back into a sheath. "I'll get out of your hair now. Don't wanna be late to bedtime again, heh..." He paused at the stairwell door. "You're pretty cool, you know that? No idea why we never talked before." Then Pyrrha was alone again. She cast her spear back out, and wondered about the vague sense of loss she was feeling.

"We're almost out of toilet paper, get another pack while you're at it." Weiss instructed. Ren nodded, and dutifully jotted it down on his Saturday shopping list. There was more to life at Beacon than hijinks and monster-slaying, despite what some people thought. While Ruby and Nora busied themselves pouring obscene amounts of sugar down their throats, it fell to the sensible half of the team to ensure that they didn't end up living in their own filth.

"I'll try." Ren said. "It might be hard to fit in with all the syrup."

"Just buy less syrup—"

"HERESY!" Nora shouted. "Hey, can we talk about something less boring? I think something important's about to happen, guys." She cleared her throat. "So there we were, in the middle of the night!" Nora stopped and pointed at Ren, grinning in anticipation.

"Nora, please." Ren grumbled.

Ruby snapped her fingers excitedly. "Oh, I remember this one! They were Beowolves!"

"WRONG! Boop!" Nora 'booped' Ruby's noggin with her fist. It made a suspiciously hollow noise. "Never mind! Wait for it, wait for it—"

Knock-knock.

Weiss looked at the door in astonishment. Ren shrugged. "I KNEW IT!" Nora crowed. "Who's there?"

"It's me." Jaune's voice said. "You know, Jaune." he added unnecessarily.

"JAUNE WHO—" Nora began. Ruby had already opened the door. "Aww." Jaune looked to have had an eventful day, and it wasn't even lunchtime yet. A dusting of white powder covered his hair and clothes, while his chestplate bore a couple of mysterious yellow smears (wasn't it uncomfortable, wearing that thing all the time?). His hand clutched an unmarked paper bag.

"What's up?" Ruby said cheerfully. She sniffed loudly. "And are those cookies? Can I have some?" Weiss caught the scent as well; she eyed the bag with suspicion. The grease stains soaking through foretold diabetes and clogged arteries in her partner's future, and possibly food poisoning in the near term, depending on Jaune's baking skills.

"Cookies? What cookies?" With a gulp, Jaune hid the bag behind his back. Team RRWN waited patiently for him to explain what nonsensical adventure was no doubt going on, but they got nothing except a series of ominous-sounding gurgles.

"Are you...feeling all right?" Ren said fearfully. "You're not going to vomit again, are you?" He and Weiss immediately backed as far away from the door as possible, flattening themselves against the dorm wall.

"No!" Jaune snapped out of it and shook his head violently. "Gods no! I only get motion sick! And why would I come here just for that?" He blew out a breath. "So. You know how there's a dance tomorrow?"

"Yes." said Weiss. "We don't live under a rock, you know?"

"Cool." Jaune stuck a hand in his pocket, trying to look nonchalant. From how his hands shook, it merely looked as if he had a hyperactive gerbil down his pants. "I was just wondering..." he addressed the carpet. "...if maybe, you'd be all right with us going to the dance together, or something. Not two togethers, just one, you know what I mean?"

"Wait, I'm confused." Ren scratched his head. "Who exactly are you asking, again? Because, uh, you're a nice guy, but I don't—"

"Is it all of us?" Nora clapped her hands. "An unexpected harem route! How bold!"

"NO DAMMIT!" Jaune's face resembled a strawberry in color. "Ruby! I'm asking Ruby!"

Silence. Ruby's silver eyes were wide as saucers. Clearly, her poor partner had been horrified into silence by the idiot's proposal. "Oh, that's a twist." Nora whispered. "That's very twisty."

Jaune pressed his index fingers together. "I-I just thought that since you're not really a...dance-y person, no offense, and honestly I'm not either, it might be less lame if we kept each other company, but if you don't want to that's fine too, I totally get it, just forget I said anything..." he paused to take a breath. "I mean, Ruby, you...are one of my best friends. You wanted to be friends, day one, even though I puked on Yang's shoes and my weapon doesn't even turn into a gun and I had fake transcripts—okay, I guess you didn't know that at the time, but it was pretty obvious I totally sucked at everything—"

"Stop that, you nimrod!" Weiss had had enough of this lunacy. "Are you serious? This is how you ask a girl to dance? Did you even bring flowers?" She tried to nudge him out the door, to no avail. Stupid tall people. "Ruby, close your mouth before the flies get in!"

"Flowers?" Ruby's jaw finally shut. "Why would he bring flowers? I don't know anything about gardening!"

"Hey, in my defense, I did get her something!" Jaune said. He held out the probaby-cookie-containing paper bag. Weiss sighed. Going for the heart through the stomach was a well-worn cliché, but she doubted even Ruby was simple enough to be swayed by junk food.

"I knew it!" Ruby pulled out one of the sugary treats, turning it over in her hand. "Are you trying to buy me with cookies?" she asked with mild reproach. "Sure, I like them, but isn't it—oh my gosh, are those strawberry chunks?" Ruby bit into the cookie, and a blissful expression crossed her face.

"Yeah, we ordered lot of them for the dance. Since, you know, Team Strawberry and all." Jaune said. "Um...is it working?"

"Maybe?" Ruby took another bite of the cookie. "So, if I say yes, can I just wear my boots, instead of those stupid lady stilts?" She gestured at the pair of high heels tucked under her bed.

Jaune shrugged. "I don't see why not. None of my business what you want to wear, right?"

"YEAH!" Ruby fist-pumped. Triumphantly, she picked up her heels and tossed them out the open window. Weiss facepalmed. "All righty! It's gonna be a great...well, not a date...a friendship strengthening exercise?"

"Didn't you rent those heels?" Ren pointed out.

"Whoops." Ruby giggled in embarrassment. "Welp, better go find them. Help a friend out, Jaune?" She tugged on the sleeve of his hoodie. "Oh, I gotta tell Yang about this!"

Jaune looked legitimately motion sick all of a sudden. "Right. Yang." He followed his newly acquired not-date out the door with some trepidation. "Ohhh..."

"I can't believe that worked." Weiss muttered. Had it been her, that proposition would've earned the boy an express exit courtesy of Myrtenaster. But no, apparently her partner's asking price amounted to junk food, fruit, and comfortable shoes. Those two had some sort of dolt synergy going on. The image of Ruby wearing a formal dress and combat boots was giving her a headache.

"Well, I thought it was pretty sweet." Nora said wistfully. "But my ship, Renny! It sank my ship! Right out of nowhere!" She grabbed Ren's arm and buried her face in his shoulder. "Black Knight, no!"

"Black Knight?" Weiss asked. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't want to know." Ren said, in haunted tones. He stroked his partner's hair. "It's okay, Nora, your ship still has a chance. It's only a dance, and besides, they're obviously going as friends—"

Nora shook her head. "No, Renny, you don't understand. They've been bound by the red string of fate! Forever! First comes dance, and then comes marriage, and then comes Ruby with the baby carriage...eight of them..."

"Nora, stop that." Weiss said sharply. Imagining a horde of blond, silver-eyed brats only made her headache worse. "You're overreacting."

"I—you know what, you're right! Black Knight might be missing an arm, but it's only a flesh wound!" Nora rubbed her chin with a crafty smile. "Ahem! So, Renny, I was just wondering, if maybe, you'd be all right with us going to the dance together, as a friendship strengthening exercise—"

"Okay." Ren said flatly. Nora winked at Weiss, and stuck her fist out.

It was time for Weiss to leave. She had seen everything.

In a corner of the Beacon ballroom, Yang gave her blond teammate an eerie smile. Her arms rested on a black tablecloth; both of her shotguns were deployed, pointed casually at Jaune's chest. "I guess we all underestimated you, huh?" she said. Jaune's face betrayed a bit of nervousness, but to his credit, he didn't seem about to faint or soil himself. Mind you, he'd been shot by Ember Celica many times before, so maybe he'd built up a resistance. "I didn't know you and my little sister got along so well, Jaune."

"Well, there's lots you don't know." Jaune blurted out, then slapped his forehead. "Why did I say that...I—look, I consider Ruby my best friend, all right? I just thought the dance might be more fun with a buddy."

Yang placed her hand over her heart, with an expression of faux sadness. "I'm hurt, dude. Aren't we your best friends?" Then she remembered Sable and Blake made up half the team. "I'm your friend, anyways."

"Thanks." said Jaune. "But, I mean, would you want to go to the dance with me?"

"Uhh..." Yang tried to think of a more diplomatic reply than 'hell no'. No offense, but Jaune's whole 'hapless yet lovable large adult son' vibe was a little bland for her tastes. Besides, she wasn't sure if she had Ruby's courage-slash-cluelessness, to turn up with some boy as just friends. Wait a minute, why was she the one feeling uncomfortable now? That sneaky little bastard! "Hey, I'm the one asking the questions!"

"Take it easy, Yang." Yang and Jaune looked up. Blake was perched on a chandelier like a cat in a tree, tying a decorative ribbon in place. Apparently her partner was too cool to use a ladder like a normal person. Show-off. "We're going on a mission in a couple days, after all. We might need him."

Jaune flashed a thumbs-up towards the ceiling. "It's cool, Blake. Just big sister things, am I right?" He chuckled. "This is the first time I've been on the receiving end, though."

Yang blinked. "Oh." Right, seven sisters. She wondered how many boys (and maybe girls?) he'd seen undergo this ritual before. "I'll cut to the chase, then. Make sure Ruby has a good time—"

Jaune nodded. "Or else you'll chop off my balls and feed them to a King Tajitu, pull out my guts and feed them to a Goliath, and then feed the rest of me to a Griffon. Something like that?"

"Uh, more or less. A bit less, maybe?" Yang sweatdropped. "Holy shit, dude, you've got a morbid imagination."

"Not mine." Jaune said. "Saphron—my oldest sister—she got really creative with that stuff."

"Are you two quite finished?" Sable called from the other side of the ballroom. "These speakers won't set themselves up, you know! And where are the fog machines? That was your job, Jaune!"

Jaune winced. "Oh man. I think I left them back at storage..."

"For fu—don't just stand there then! Find them!" Sable roared, sending his partner bolting from the room. He shook his head in disgust. "Gods. A girl agrees to dance with him, and he forgets how to do anything right."

Rolling her eyes, Yang hefted an oversized speaker onto her shoulder. "No wonder you're so good at everything, then." she smirked.

"Yeah—HEY!" Sable was a hair late to the punchline. "Listen here, you smartass, I'm going alone by choice. I have standards! I don't just throw myself at anyone who'll have me!"

Yang snorted. "So no one here meets your standards, is that it?" she asked, with a hint of warning. Wisely, Sable chose not to answer, instead looking away with a huff. That was progress. She dropped the speaker into place with a loud thump. "Might want to lower your expectations, just saying."

"What are you insinuating—" Sable jabbed an accusing finger at her, but a haughty cough from the ballroom doors interrupted him. "My gods." Weiss Schnee took in the sight of Yang and Sable in each other's faces and Blake hiding in the ceiling. "What is this...atrocity?"

"Oh hey, Weiss-cube! You like what we've done with the place?"

Weiss stuck her nose in the air. "You called me Weiss-cube only yesterday. And no, I can't say I do. I was curious as to what travesty you were going to make of the dance, but this is worse than I thought." She perused the black tablecloths, black balloons, and black garlands with a disapproving look. "Is this a ball or a funeral?"

"It's symbolic!" Sable raised his fist. "We're burying everyone else's hopes and dreams for the tournament!"

Weiss ignored his outburst, and made her way towards the middle of the room. "And what are these?" She picked up one of the devices lining the dance floor. It was a nondescript cylindrical object with a few wires sticking out. "Are you planning to blow everyone up at midnight? Win the tournament by elimination?"

"No, they're pyrotechnics! See!" Sable touched the tip of his sword to one of the cylinders. A bright yellow geyser of fire burst from the top, stretching six feet in the air. "The flames symbolize...something?" he frowned. "Our brilliant victory inevitably closing in on everyone, I think?"

"That seems horribly unsafe..."

Blake sighed from above. "That's what I said."

"Live a little, you party poopers." Yang tried to ruffle Weiss's hair; the heiress batted her hand away with a little growl. "This is Beacon, not some boring-ass cocktail party. Right, Icy-Hot?" She stuck her other hand out, and felt Sable smack it. Nice. No-look! "And besides, everyone's got Aura. No one's gonna burn to death."

"How reassuring." Weiss continued her inspection. "Why is there so much incense in this corner?" At this, both Yang and Sable pointed up. "It's to cover the smell of fish." Blake explained. Weiss looked aghast. "I know. I didn't want to cover it up either, but they insisted. No appreciation for the finer things in life." Blake shook her head mournfully and gave them a judgmental look from on high. What a mysterious place that girl's mind was. Most of the time she seemed like the sanest person on the team, and then something inevitably reminded you of how weird Blake really was, whether it was the fish obsession or the sketchy literature or the habit of wearing her bow in the shower...

"So let me get this straight?" Weiss said. "The Vytal dance is supposed to bolster unity between the kingdoms, and you're using it as psychological warfare."

"All shall love us and despair." Sable whispered. For a moment, the crackling yellow flames were reflected in his pale eyes. And was that a thunderclap, or was it her imagination?

Weiss slumped into a chair, forehead meeting the black tablecloth with a soft clunk. "Dear gods, this dance is going to be...something."

"Father would hate it, wouldn't he?" Sable remarked. Weiss's shoulders twitched in what might have been amusement, though it was hard to make out her face at the moment.

"Yeah, come on, Weiss-cream. Don't be such a wet blanket." Yang cajoled. "Just because you're the only one on your team without a date..." she added with a teasing grin. "I mean, look, we're all alone together here." She gestured to the four people in their little group, whatever it was called (Team SWBY? Holy crap, that made more sense than her real team's name). "Blake's not interested in anyone without animal parts..." Blake groaned. "...don't worry, Blakey, this is still a no-kinkshaming zone. Icy-Hot has issues." ("Hey!" Sable shouted). "And I'm..." Why was she going solo, again? "...uh, I'm just a free spirit, you know?" she finished rather lamely.

"Oh, please. I don't need your sympathies." Weiss straightened up and puffed out her chest (to little effect). "There are any number of boys in this school who'd fall over themselves to accompany me. My standards are just higher than that."

Sable coughed delicately. "Excuse me? What standards? As far I can tell, the only requirement is a deathly fear of the bathtub."

Weiss twitched a few times; Yang could practically hear the ticking noise. "WHAT?!" she shrieked. Blake fell out of the chandelier, but somehow managed to land on her feet. "Listen here, you little gremlin, don't act like you figured it out at first glance! That was completely ridiculous! Like if...if Ruby were afraid of roses, or something!" Yang pictured Ruby running away screaming from a bed of flowers, fainting in terror from using her Semblance, refusing to write her last name...why did that sound so adorable? "And don't lecture me about standards! What are yours, a funny accent and some bad pick-up lines?"

"No! I—stop laughing, dammit!" Sable pointed furiously at Yang. "Honestly, that accent got old fast—"

"Say wot?" Yang put on her best impression of Scarlet David's voice. "Oi, lad, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" She wrapped an arm around Sable's shoulders; her leader stared at her as if she'd grown a second head. "Because...bloody hell, your face looks really messed up! Pffft!" Her straight face could take no more, and she burst into a fit of giggles.

"What the hell?! That sounds nothing like him! And my face is perfectly fine!" Sable protested. "Get off me!" He flailed in her grip, but brawler vs. Dust wizard was no contest in the strength department. Weiss hid her mouth behind her sleeve, but her ice-blue eyes were sparkling. Slowly, she extended a hand towards Yang, palm upraised. Oh yeah, achievement unlocked. Getting a high-five from both twins in one day was probably as rare as finding a five-leaf clover under a rainbow.

...hey, how long did it take Jaune to find a fog machine, anyways?

"Dance Derangement" is a pretty good summary of what writing this felt like. The season for nautical plotlines is upon us, lads and lasses. And if you thought this was bad, we aren't even at the dance proper yet.

Poor Sable. So paranoid, and yet not nearly paranoid enough. To be fair, the full Maiden plot is near impossible to guess. Heck, even the writers didn't know at this point...