The day before the dance...

General James Ironwood flipped through Team CFVY's latest report. "Hm. Do you trust their judgement, Oz? The theory seems plausible enough, but I don't know if—"

Glynda answered for her boss. "Team CFVY is reliable." she said firmly. "We check Grimm levels in Mountain Glenn every so often, given how close it is to Vale, and the concentrations they're reporting are well above baseline all across the surface city. To me, it's beyond reasonable doubt something abnormal is going on."

Ironwood nodded in satisfaction. "Good. I can have a strike group ready to go by tomorrow. Infantry, mechs, airships, the kitchen sink. I don't care what the White Fang's planning down there, I'd like to see them deal with that!"

Ozpin sighed, spinning his chair to face the Atlas headmaster. "Really, James. A direct assault, on an entrenched group of faunus, in low-light conditions? Do you remember Fort Castle?"

"Of course I do! Who do you think I am, Lagune?" Ironwood thundered. "We've come a long way from the Mantle hordes you fought in the War, Oz. My men have actual tactics these days, you know, not to mention something called air support. The Fang won't have such an easy time hiding in the dark, not when my ships are blasting holes left and right—"

"Blowing up any trace of what they were planning, while you're at it." Ozpin countered. "We need information as much as we need dead enemies, perhaps more. And your army, well, it's a rather blunt instrument." He looked at something on his Scroll. "No, this calls for something more flexible. A mix of force and finesse, if you will. The first-year teams are going on missions in two days, as it happens—"

Ironwood looked aghast. "You want to throw a team of seventeen-year-olds down there?"

"Two teams." Ozpin corrected. "Well, two and a quarter. Also, I believe they're mostly eighteen now."

"You—!" Ironwood slammed his mechanical right fist down on Ozpin's desk. The older man didn't so much as flinch. "I mean your students no disrespect. None." he said with forced calm. "Without them, we wouldn't have this lead at all, and I'm grateful to them. Truly. But if you insist on sending children to their doom, just to prove...something..." The desk's glass covering was starting to crack. "I'm only trying to ensure the safety of the kingdom, Oz. Your kingdom! You think I care whether Beacon or Atlas gets the glory in the end?"

"Do you think he does, James?" Glynda slapped her riding crop down, an inch from Ironwood's hand. The general instinctively withdrew the limb, despite it being made of metal. "You really think he'd treat this situation like some sort of dick-measuring contest?"

Ozpin motioned for quiet. "Thank you, Glynda. Rest assured, I have better reasons than that. Though, if it were in fact such a competition..." The Beacon headmaster stood from his chair. With a roguish grin, he caressed its tall, stiff, metal back, and the two large round gears on either side of the seat. "I think we all know who'd win."

Ironwood seemed to shrink in on himself. "Why?" the general whimpered. His dark eyes bore an unmistakable aura of sadness and loss. Their gaze flicked over to his prosthetic hand, up his arm, down his body, and settled on a spot between his legs.

"With all due respect, sir." Glynda said disapprovingly. "That was really uncalled for."

"Perhaps. Apologies." Ozpin's smile didn't look remotely apologetic. "My point remains, we cannot afford to be too cocky, just because we've partially penetrated their schemes. Go off too early here, and we'll be blind as to the next plot they erect. For all we know, this is just the tip..." he let those words linger for a moment. "...of the iceberg. I have a feeling that whatever lies in Mountain Glenn is far from the end, James. Not the beginning of the end, either, not even the end of the beginning. Perhaps the beginning, of the end, of the beginning?"

"All right, all right, enough! I get it!" Faced with a deluge of dubious wordplays, Ironwood threw his hands up in defeat. "Still, I can't say I like this particular plan. Glynda, don't tell me you're fine with it? For gods' sake, first year missions usually involve catching purse-snatchers and helping children cross the street, not..." he struggled for words to describe the insanity of Ozpin's proposal. "...scouting a maze of unmapped, crumbling catacombs? Miles from civilization? Probably teeming with ancient Grimm and murderous terrorists?"

Glynda frowned. "It does sound quite bad when you put it like that, but I'll trust Professor Ozpin's wisdom. He's always been a good judge of what a team can handle." Ironwood sighed, and clasped his hands as though in prayer. "In any case, we're obligated to send the first years on missions, and I think it's best to keep Team SJBY away from any major population centers." She turned to the headmaster. "I assume you'll have an escort lined up for them?"

"Of course." Ozpin picked up his Scroll. The image of a red clockwork eye flashed on screen. "None but the very best."

...and the morning after.

It was a beautiful Monday morning. The late summer sun shone down on Beacon, with only a few happy little clouds in the sky. Birds were singing, flowers were blooming, and woodland creatures were no doubt frolicking about in disgustingly saccharine fashion. It was, Sable thought, a perfect day to go outdoors and trim the local Grimm population. How fitting that Team SJBY was preparing to do exactly that. A rainbow of Dust vials lay spread out on his desk. He held Schwarzfeuer (a perfectly respectable name, no matter what Weiss said—certainly better than naming his weapon of mass destruction after a flower) in his hand; the sword's hilt was levered open, exposing its seven Dust chambers. Six were filled: Fire, Ice, Gravity, Rock, Hard-Light, and Wind, the standard loadout. As for the last slot...hmm, quite the dilemma. It was like being a kid in a sweet shop (the brightly colored powders really did look an awful lot like candy; that was probably why Dust was stored in opaque boxes, to stop idiot children from blowing their heads off). Sable weighed a vial of blue Water Dust against one of pale gray Steam, but eventually swept both into his bag and filled the slot with more Fire.

His partner sat one bed over. Jaune's museum piece of a weapon took rather less brainpower to maintain, but still he dutifully wiped it down with rag and polish. "Yo, Jaune! Mind if I use that for a sec?" Yang asked. Jaune turned the gleaming white shield in her direction. She flexed her left arm, then her right. Ember Celica deployed with two loud clicks. "Nice. Now hold still." Yang peered at her reflection in Crocea Mors, adjusting the orange scarf around her neck. "Yeah, that's more like it. And a bit here...and here..." She took out a comb and painstakingly ran it through her blonde locks. Jaune sighed.

Sable snapped the hilt of the sword back in place. "I call next." he said. Jaune sagged even lower. "Whenever you're done." Part of his brain wanted to yell at her to hurry up, but he mentally punched it and told it to sit down. He, of all people, ought to understand the sanctity of the morning ritual. What was a bit of a wait between friends, anyways?

"Do you have to?" Jaune said pleadingly. "I mean, we're probably going to be out in the wilds for a couple days, what's the point—"

"Yes!" Sable snapped, in a tone that brooked no argument. "More than ever! Not that I'd expect you to understand." As always, his partner looked like he'd slapped together the contents of a clothing donation bin and called it a combat outfit. For all they knew, he really had. Perhaps it was the same bin he'd fished his transcripts out of.

"Preach it!" Yang raised her hand for an air high-five. Jaune slumped so badly that his head practically touched his crotch. Yang ruffled his hair, a tad condescendingly. "Now be a good boy and hold that shield up. Don't tell me your sisters never made you do this."

Jaune looked back up. "What, let them use the ancestral family weapon as a mirror? Can't say they did."

One might wonder why they'd resorted to such desperate measures, when there was a perfectly functioning full-length mirror in the bathroom. A loud groan from behind the locked door both answered that question and pinpointed their missing teammate's location. Sable shook his head. "Unbelievable. I thought if anyone was going to get wasted at the dance, it would've been Yang." And yet, it was Blake who'd barricaded herself in the toilet, with stomach pains and a pounding headache. He knew the hallmarks of a hangover when he saw them. When they were younger, the twins' mother had spent many a morning in that sad condition. Less so in recent years—Willow Schnee had eventually figured that the best way to avoid consequences was to never stop drinking.

"Hey! I hold my liquor better than that!" Yang objected. "How did she even pull it off? All she had was fish! It doesn't seem biologically possible!"

"I just hope she's okay." Jaune murmured. There was a horrible splattering noise, which went on for what seemed like a solid minute. "I mean...happens to the best of us, right?" He put a hand to his own stomach, grimacing. Muffled choking and gasping came from the bathroom, layered over the sound of the toilet flush. The door opened and Blake stumbled out like a zombie from the grave, followed by the rancid stench of half-digested fish. Yang hastily threw the window open. Perhaps it was Sable's imagination, but several boughs on the tree outside seemed to wither on the spot. A black bird flew from the topmost branch, cawing indignantly. "Gah!" Sable pinched his nose shut. "Can you even go on the mission like this, Blake? I don't think puking on the Grimm will do much good!"

"No, I got it all out." Blake gave them a shaky thumbs-up. "I won't hold you back, promise." She shambled her way over to her bed and rummaged underneath it. "Just got to take the edge off..." Blake emerged, clutching a can opener and a small tin depicting some faunus with a fish tail in place of legs. What the hell? Come to think, her end of the room had always smelt a little odd.

Yang raised an eyebrow. "Hair of the dog that bit you, huh? Well, hair of the tuna...wait, they don't have any. Scales of the tuna?"

"Blake, put that blasted thing down." Sable ordered. "You know it'll only delay the symptoms, right? Unless you never stop, but that's called alcoholism." Or whatever the term was for an unhealthy dependency on seafood? Forget it, they had more pressing concerns than Blake's bizarre metabolism. "Here, just drink this." He tossed a canteen of water across the room. It clanked off Blake's head and onto the floor—not a great sign. Normally, she would've caught that.

"Hey, it works for my uncle." Yang chuckled. "The alcoholic part, though, I'll give you. I swear his hip flask's like a son to him. Totes the damn thing everywhere, even on missions—"

"Wait, this is your Huntsman uncle?" Blake spat out a mouthful of water. "Crow with a Q? The Patch Man? Uh, no offense, but that sounds...really bad? Suicidal, even."

"Patch Man? Never heard that one before, but yep." said Yang. "Says he fights better with a few in him. And you know, he's not dead yet, so maybe he's onto something."

"I doubt it." Sable muttered. He suspected Yang's uncle was either so strong he could afford to waste his talents blundering around in a drunken stupor, or simply the luckiest Huntsman on Remnant. No matter which, he found it hard to muster much respect for Crow-with-a-Q.

Yang grinned teasingly at him. "That from personal experience, Icy-Hot? Or is there a drunken Schnee uncle we should know about?"

"No. Not an uncle." The words came out with more bitterness than he'd intended. Uncomfortable silence ensued. Sable turned his back on the team and busied himself shoving more highly explosive Dust vials into his travel bag. Damn it, why couldn't he have left it at 'no'? It was like that day in the cafeteria again, except this time with no food fight to cover his slip. But life at Beacon being what it was, it wasn't long before a different loud distraction showed up. "YANG!" Ruby shouted from the hallway. "Guess who's here?" Barely audible below her words was what sounded like someone—or something—breathing heavily.

Blake's amber eyes went wide; the canteen dropped from her nerveless fingers. "Wait, wait!" she hissed, heedless of the water soaking her boots. "Don't—" Too late. Yang yanked the door open with a knowing smile.

"It's Zwei!" Ruby bounded cheerfully into the room. "EWW!" The lingering fish-stink sent her reeling right back out. The bundle in her arms fell to the carpet. It unfurled itself to reveal a black-and-white dog with large ears and stubby legs, staring vacuously at them all. A corgi, if he wasn't mistaken. One of those breeds that would never make it in the wild, but survived thanks to cuteness and eugenics (lots of eugenics).

Jaune was the first to succumb to its charms. "Who's a good boy?" he cooed. The animal rolled over and let him scratch its belly, panting happily. "You are! The goodest of boys! Um...or is it a good girl?" He gave Ruby a questioning look. "Didn't mean to assume your dog's gender."

"Boy." Yang confirmed. "Team, meet Zwei. Zwei, meet the team." she said, as if the creature could understand. "The nice boy's Jaune, and the grumps are Sable and Blake. Don't worry, they'll warm up. Maybe." Blake had her back firmly pressed to the wall, as if facing off against a particularly loathsome Grimm. "Well, this is a surprise. What's he doing here, Rubes?"

"Dad's going on a trip." Ruby explained. Weiss crossed the hall, behind her partner's back. To Sable's shock and mild disquiet, his sister rushed into the room and joined in on the tummy-rub, letting out highly unfitting squeals of delight. Now there was an image he could've done without. He never wanted to hear her lecture him about poise and dignity and icy Schnee reserve, ever again. "So he asked us to take care of Zwei for a bit." Ren and Nora watched it all from Team RRWN's doorway, respectively with a fond smile and manic laughter.

Sable folded his arms. "And how are you going to do that?" he emphasized. Ruby could order her team as she wished, but it would be a cold day in Vacuo before he let the furball freeload in their room. No dog had collected a white knight piece in the Emerald Forest, the last he checked. "Doesn't your father know you've got missions?"

Ruby shrugged. "Eh, it'll be fine. Zwei's got plenty of food, and he's pretty good with that can opener."

"He really is." Nora whispered reverently. "It was beautiful. Poor can never stood a chance." She brandished a tin of dog food that seemed to have been torn in half; nuggets of kibble sprayed out into the hall. Zwei turned its head to look right at him. He swore he saw the little monster wink mockingly.

"Who's a smart little boy?" Weiss booped Zwei on the nose. "Using tools without opposable thumbs? You are! Yes you are!" Sweet gods. Sable was torn between recording it for use in their inevitable future arguments, and conducting an exorcism of whatever possession-type Grimm had doubtless gotten hold of her. Also, something about Ruby's explanation simply didn't add up. "So if it can do all that, why did your father even bother sending it here? Couldn't it use the can opener at home just as well?!"

"Come on, Icy-Hot." Yang cajoled him. "Stop asking questions and embrace the floof, man. Look, even the Ice Queen's getting into it!"

"I can see that. Regrettably." Weiss's behavior was becoming really disturbing. Schnees did not get that happy, ever—damn, what a depressing thought. Still, he could scarcely imagine any of the family treating each other with as much...blatant affection as Weiss was showing the mutt. "Bah. Guess I rate below a dog in her book."

"To be fair, the dog's much more likeable." Weiss's voice regained some of its usual bite. She scratched Zwei behind the ears. "Why don't you give it a try, brother dear? Some of that charm might rub off. Goodness knows you could use it."

"Like hell I will—"

Yang snatched up the little gremlin, over Weiss and Jaune's protests. "Okay, you know what? I'm getting sick of your little thunder ray schtick." ("Tsundere!" Blake corrected). She shoved Zwei right in his face. "Take this! Kiwi beam!" ("It's kawaii...")

The fluff-devil's stupid face peered at his own, eyes twinkling and tongue lolling in disarmingly adorable fashion. Its innocent expression was perfectly calculated to plead for his friendship and love—nay, to insist on it. How insolent! They'd met only minutes ago! What right did it have, to make such outlandish demands? You think I'm as weak-willed as them, you little brat? Think again! Reject. Reject!

Yang's smile faltered under his unrelenting glare (to his annoyance, Zwei seemed totally unfazed). "Nothing? You see this cute little face, and you don't feel anything?" She put a hand on his chest. "Did you forget to put your heart in this morning, or something? I swear it was there yesterday!"

"Oh, shut up. And watch where you're pointing that!" Sable slowly pried Ember Celica off him, taking care to keep the shotgun barrel aimed away from anything important. "Let's see that thing take out a few Beowolves first, then we can talk." Zwei broke into what looked like a crafty grin, which was oddly unsettling. "Besides, I don't even like dogs. If you want to shove some filthy animal down my throat, at least make it a cat." Prideful, standoffish, vicious little bastards they might be, but a cat wouldn't lick your boots for a pat on the head. He could respect that sort of integrity.

"Yeah!" Blake interjected, with unusual enthusiasm. "Um...not that I have a special thing for cats, but they're definitely much cooler than dogs."

Zwei's nose and ears twitched. With a loud bark of excitement, it squirmed out of Yang's grip, and went sailing at Blake like a furry missile. Blake yelped in surprise, but managed to form a shadow clone in the nick of time. Zwei blasted the clone's head off and slammed snout-first into a bookshelf. While it attempted to (literally) get its nose out of a book, Blake made a break for it, but sadly, her boot slipped on the puddle of spilled water and sent her tumbling face-first onto her bed. A moment later, an avalanche of sketchy literature rained down on her, followed by the entire shelf, with Zwei sitting triumphantly atop the whole mess. The girl curled into a ball, arms shielding the top of her head, while the dog gleefully slobbered over her face.

"Get away from her!" Sable snatched up his sword. Ruby screamed something along the lines of holy crap please don't stab my dog. An invisible force dragged Zwei off Blake; the vermin came to a stop upside-down against a black glyph, Gravity Dust keeping it suspended in mid-air. Zwei regarded its predicament with mild interest, tail wagging happily. A trail of pages from some unfortunate book floated in the air. Blake remained sprawled on her bed, letting out great shuddering gasps. She patted her bow with trembling hands, and visibly relaxed on finding it intact. Good for her. Sable appreciated the value of a signature accessory, as the dozen white cravats in his closet attested, even if Blake's reaction seemed a bit over-the-top. Surely she had spares?

"Holy crap, are you okay?" Jaune pried the bookshelf off his teammate. He picked up a tome with a blacked-out cover, regarding it curiously, before Weiss hurriedly slapped it out of his hand. Another black glyph formed, and summarily banished Blake's smut collection to the darkest corner of the room.

Yang looked dumbfounded at the destructive turn of events (considering their track record, she really shouldn't have been). Feeling utter vindication, Sable fronted on her. "Look what you've done! I knew it! I knew that thing wasn't to be trusted! Got anything to say for yourself?"

"Uh...sorry." Yang handed her partner a towel. "I have no idea why he did that. He's usually really docile, I swear." Blake wiped her face clean of drool, still hyperventilating. "Okay, wow. You, uh, you really don't like dogs, huh?"

"Did you run into a giant corgi Grimm when you were a kid, or something?" Ruby asked. She sounded horrified at the prospect. "Oh gosh, there aren't really giant corgi Grimm, are they?"

Blake cringed. "Gods, I hope not."

Miss Goodwitch's voice crackled over the intercom, ordering all first-year teams to the auditorium. "Better go. We'll fix the room later." Sable gathered his belongings and headed out the door. He remembered to dismiss the Gravity glyph at the last moment—Zwei dropped right into the dorm wastebasket, flinging garbage everywhere. Oops. That was twice in a row they'd trashed the room before a big mission. Hopefully this time, it wasn't a harbinger of things to come.

One Great War history infodump later, Team SJBY was heading towards the mission boards. Inexplicably, they were one of the only teams wearing combat gear rather than their school uniforms; the four stuck out like sore thumbs among the horde of nameless students clad in Beacon's suits and ties, Haven's collared jackets, Atlas's military garb, and Shade's jeans and t-shirts. "Move it!" Sable barked. "Before all the good missions get taken, and we're stuck helping children cross the street."

"That doesn't so bad—" Jaune began. His teammates looked at him with expressions of utter disappointment. "Never mind, search and destroy it is."

"Hopefully less search, more destroy." Yang cracked her knuckles. "It'll be fine, dude. Believe in yourself. Or in us, at least. Besides..." she lowered her voice to a whisper. "...do you really want to sic him on some poor kids?" Jaune winced.

RRWN-plus-Pyrrha (RRWNN?) caught up in the midst of their banter. "—thought it was a good speech." Ruby continued some offscreen conversation. The little leader shrugged, or rather tried to under the weight of her oversized backpack. "More normal than his last one, anyways."

"Not a very high bar. And really, Great War history? They teach that in preschool." Weiss remarked. "It wasn't bad, though. Passable at worst. At any rate, I doubt he was made headmaster for his soaring oratory—"

"It's not particularly high on the list of qualifications, no." Everyone whipped around to see Professor Ozpin, cane and mug in hand as usual. Weiss looked mortified. Had he just arrived, or had he been watching and waiting for the perfect segue? "Though perhaps it should be. The right words at the right time to the right people can make all the difference in the world. But I digress." He quaffed from the mug. "Good, you're all here. How convenient. I wished to speak to you nine about an opportunity. One that involves a fair amount of searching, and possibly a great deal of destruction." Yang and Nora leaned in eagerly. "You may recall that during your last adventure, you miraculously overheard something about a White Fang stronghold to the southeast." Blake took great interest in a speck of dirt on the carpet. "Now, I would appreciate your discretion on the matter, but we believe we have a lead. Team CFVY has been scouting the quadrant for the last few weeks, and they suspect it's in the tunnels below Mountain Glenn."

Murmurs of unease rippled through the group. "That's kind of fu—uh, messed up, isn't it? Setting up down there with all those...well, dead people." Yang said to general nods. Ren had balled his hands into fists; it wasn't until Nora squeezed his arm that he relaxed again.

Sable scoffed. "The White Fang kills living people all the time. I didn't expect them to treat the dead any better."

"Indeed." Ozpin said. "Unfortunately, CFVY lacked the resources to investigate themselves. But for a group of your size...and skill..." he briefly glanced at Jaune, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "...with the appropriate support, it should be feasible. And I thought you might appreciate the chance to finish what you started." The headmaster was silent for a long moment. His gaze passed over each and every one of them in turn. "Of course, it's all strictly voluntary. You are my students, not my soldiers. If any of you do not wish to participate, you are free to leave and choose as you please from the mission board. No one will judge."

Having said his piece, Ozpin sipped idly at his coffee, leaving the students to confer among themselves. The more well-read of them thought of the story of the Line in the Sand (more of a line in the carpet, in their case). It was said that on the eve of the Battle of Vacuo, at the climax of the War, King Oswald of Vale had drawn a line in the desert with his sword. He'd told his troops they could either return to the safety of their homes, or cross over with him to meet destiny; according to legend, not a man or woman had turned back. Little did they know, but Ozpin was thinking of that night as well, in much more personal terms. The history books didn't tell you how the great warrior-king had damn near shat his pants, wondering if his motivational tactic was going to blow up in his face. It would've quite embarrassing if his whole army just turned tail and left. But then, as now, he had nothing to worry about. "Team RRWN's in!" Ruby declared with a salute. "You can count on us, professor."

"Team SJBY accepts."

"Oh...yes." Pyrrha nodded hesitantly. "Me too."

"Very well." Ozpin leaned on his cane, a small smile on his face. "There's a Bullhead waiting at Landing Pad Three. Your Huntsmen will debrief you further. You must understand—"

"Wait, we're leaving now?" Jaune squeaked, his voice cracking on the last word. "Uh...I mean, it's pretty impressive everything's ready to go...considering we literally just agreed to this."

"Yeah." Blake added. "Can we at least tidy up our room first? It's sort of a mess right now. Especially the bathroom." Her teammates shot her looks of suspicion and alarm. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Given the importance of your mission, I thought it prudent to make some, let's say, advance preparations." Ozpin explained. "If you'd refused, well, I must admit that would've made things a little awkward. And not to worry, Blake, I'll see to it that your room is still habitable when you return."

He silently reminded himself to make Glynda go fix Team SJBY's room...again.

"Yo, crazy kids!" As they left the auditorium, a girl in sunglasses and a beret accosted them. "Saw you talking to the Big O in there. Let me guess, you got assigned to clean up our mess?"

"Eh? How did you know?" A camera flash went off, preserving Ruby's surprised expression for posterity. A rabbit faunus lowered her camera, smiling innocently; Ruby pulled her hood over her eyes in embarrassment.

Coco Adel laughed. "Aww. That's adorable." Ruby pouted, the visible half of her face turning pinker and pinker. "It's obvious, isn't it? You guys are, like, the Cool Kids Club of the year."

Weiss took over for her leader, nodding respectfully to their seniors. "Coco, Velvet. It's good to see you both. I trust your mission went well?"

"Ah..." Velvet began. "It was, er...educational."

"She means boring as hell." Coco said bluntly. "It's okay, Velvet, you can say it. Too much math, not enough action. I was counting Beowolves in my sleep at the end. You, though, you might get some real excitement down in those tunnels." She tipped her beret to them. "Lucky. Like I said, Cool Kids Club."

"What's the Cool Kids Club?" Ruby asked in bewilderment.

"A club for cool kids, duh." A new voice said. Two boys walked up—the dark-skinned redhead was the one who'd spoken, while the green-robed giant hung back. "Something crazy happens? It's you. Ozpin needs someone for a special project? It's you. Third and fourth years? Never heard of them. You never get in real trouble, even if you set the rule book on fire and piss on it. Never talk to the other teams here, or even bother learning their names, because they're just not cool enough. Sound familiar?" He got some looks of recognition, and a few of vague guilt. "Yup, thought so. Welcome to the club, y'all. You're in for a wild few years."

"In our defense, we do talk to other teams. Sometimes." Jaune said weakly. "Like SSSN. Wait, they don't even go here...CRDL? No, that doesn't count...you?" He scratched his head. "Uh, who are you again?"

Coco snorted. "Right." She pointed in turn at herself and her three teammates. "Team CFVY. Coco. Velvet. Yatsuhashi." The giant waved. "And—" 'FOX ALISTAIR.' a voice boomed from inside their heads.

"AAAH!"

"What the fuck?!"

"You're psychic? AWESOME!" Nora cheered. "Quick, what number am I thinking of?"

Coco facepalmed. "Damn it, Fox. I told you, stop introducing yourself like that!"

'MUAHAHA!' Fox's disembodied evil laughter rang inside their skulls. 'I see you! I see your deepest, darkest—GAH! Would you stop screaming at me?...yes, I know it's all mental, but you're still very loud...it's telepathy, all right, not mind-reading? Learn to take a joke, Schnee! Ow!' The connection ended abruptly. Fox rubbed his ear. "Geez, chill out! Where did you even learn half those words?"

"Shut up, Alistair. You got off easy!" Sable snarled. "The last guy who tried to prank me, he got his balls set on fire!" Before things could escalate, Weiss smacked her brother over the head, while Yang put a restraining hand on his shoulder. Coco and Yatsuhashi, respectively, did the same for Fox. "Sorry about him, Coco." Weiss apologized. "I've been trying for years, but well, you see how it is."

"It's all cool, girl." Coco seemed more amused than offended. "Believe me, I know the feeling."

"Sup guys?" Four more familiar faces strolled up. They were getting to be quite the crowd. "Well, someone's popular." Coco joked. "Also, ew. Please tell me he's not serious about that outfit." She averted her eyes from Sun's exposed abs. Judging from her rapid-fire shutter clicks, Velvet felt very differently.

"I'm afraid he is." Sable sighed. "Although that tie's new." A strip of white cloth was knotted around Sun's neck, looking utterly incongruous with his open shirt. "Still looks like garbage, but it's new."

Coco braved a second glance. "Ugh, I know, right?" she whispered. "He could've at least picked a different color."

"Hey! Don't be a hater, Four Eyes!" Sun said indignantly. "I thought it was dumb too at first, but the neck trap's growing on me, yo. I'll have you know, it got me a bunch of compliments last night!"

Neptune rolled his eyes. "His girlfriend said she liked it." Velvet put her camera away, looking sour. Coco muttered something about how there was no accounting for taste. "Uh...anyways. We were wondering if you guys had picked out missions yet?"

"Yeah! We're all going a super secret special awesome—" Ruby bragged. Weiss and Ren both tapped her on the shoulder, shaking their heads. "I mean, we're going on a totally normal mission in the southeast."

"Cool. Good luck with that." Neptune said awkwardly. Some banal pleasantries and goodbyes later, the mission crew continued towards their airship. "It's settled then." Scarlet said, as soon as they were out of earshot. "We're going northwest."

Velvet gasped. "Crikey!" Her rabbit ears stuck straight up into the air, and her drawl thickened to the consistency of molasses. "Finally, someone who talks sort of normal!"

"Oh! I know, roight?" Scarlet's eyes lit up. "Everyone's always, loik, oi Scarlet why don't ya talk propah? Bollocks to that, I say, them gits be the ones talkin' fooneh—" CFY and SSN watched with trepidation as the curiously accented pair jabbered at each other. Within seconds, their speech ceased to be comprehensible to mortal ears.

"Brothers, this is getting out of hand, now there are two of them..." Fox ducked behind his taller teammate. "Hold me, Yatsu, I'm scared."

"Scarlet, huh? His full name, it wouldn't happen to be Scarlet Velvetina, would it?" Coco asked nervously.

Sage shook his head. "It's David. Scarlet David."

Coco sighed in relief. "Good. That...that would've been real creepy."

Ruby hit record on her Scroll. She wasn't one of those girls, who had to get their every waking moment on camera, but hey, it was a historical moment! Years from now, when she was a world-renowned Huntress, people on the Internet might pay millions of Lien for video from her first mission! At the very least, it'd be something for Crescent Rose to show her grandchildren. "Ahem! Ruby's log, day one. We're going on a super duper special top secret epic awesome mission with Team...uh, guys, what's our mega-team name? RRWN-SJBY-P sounds like a disease, or something."

"Sorry." said Pyrrha.

"Hmm! Leave it to me!" Nora scrunched up her face. "Rubies...ranger...raven...rain..." She sounded out random words starting with R. Her turquoise eyes spun wildly in their sockets, as she no doubt plumbed the depths of time and space in search of the perfect name. "...peanut butter and jelly—I got it! We can be Team Rainbows! R-R-A-Y-N-N-B-W-S!"

Ruby counted off the letters. "Holy crap, you actually got everyone? And it's a color too! Well, technically, lots of colors." It was pretty incredible how she'd come up with that on the fly, even if 'rainbows' didn't actually have two Rs, or two Ns, or a Y. Eh, it still made more sense than spelling 'strawberry' with a J. "All righty, Team Rainbows is going on a terrorist hunt!" She stopped the recording. "Heh, that's got a nice ring to it."

Sable did not agree. "Why am I the plural? That's just lazy!" Ruby had to admit, it did feel a little tacked-on, like Nora had thought of something that worked for everyone else, then added an S on the end. Then again, it wasn't like she had anything better. A raisin-bow wasn't a real thing, was it?

"Aww, is somebody feeling left out?" Nora cooed. She sidled up to the boy and wrapped an arm around his waist. "You're included, Sabesy! That's what the S means!"

Sable batted her arm aside. "First of all, Valkyrie, never call me that ever again. Only my friends get to call me stupid nicknames, got it?" Behind his back, Yang pretended to faint dramatically. "Second of all, doesn't Rainbows imply Ruby's in charge? She's not only team leader here, you know! I'm sure we'd get a much better name with an S in front, like...uh...snowberry...the J's silent." Blech. Clearly, not everyone had Nora's anagram skills.

Nora smirked. "All in favor of Ruby leading our super-duper kick-butt mega-team, hands up?" In a heartbeat, all of Team RRWN had raised their hands. Pyrrha followed shortly. With an apologetic shrug, Yang crossed the metaphorical aisle to vote for her sister. Jaune nervously bobbed his hand up and down, trapped between his partner's glare and Ruby's puppy-dog eyes. "Polls are closed! Six-and-a-half for, two-and-a-half against! A landslide victory!" Nora announced. She dropped to one knee before Ruby. "My hammer is yours to command! Shall I smite the heretics for you, my liege?"

"Um...no! I'm a merciful ruler." Ruby babbled. She wracked her brains for something inspiring to say. What was it that Council members said when they won their elections? "I'm, uh...very honored by your support, and I promise I'll be a leader for all of Team Rainbows, even the ones who didn't vote for me...thank you, gods bless you, gods bless Vale."

"You traitors!" Sable raged at his teammates. "Damn it! Democracy was a mistake!"

"Hey, you had my vote. Your record on dog issues, it really spoke to me." Blake offered, with a little shudder of disgust. "I'm glad someone sees through those filthy animals." Ruby's backpack suddenly weighed much heavier on her shoulders. Oh boy, was that going to an awkward reveal. Then again, her approval rating would probably survive—her voter base was 100% pro-dog, after all. That was how politics worked, wasn't it?

A Bullhead sat on Landing Pad Three, as promised, but no trace of a Huntsman or Huntress could be seen. "Uh, guys? Wasn't someone supposed to meet us here?" Jaune asked. The airship dock seemed utterly silent and devoid of life, save for a bird perched atop a light pole and the odd patch of moss.

Nora rubbed her hands together. "If they're not here in five minutes, we're legally allowed to go on our own. I bet I could fly us there—"

"No. Never again." Ren said firmly.

"Maybe it's Professor Greene? It'd make sense, sending the stealth teacher along." Pyrrha surmised. "And that would explain why we can't see anyone."

"It probably is a teacher, if Ozpin had to get someone on short notice." Weiss agreed. "Do you think it's too much to hope for Goodwitch?"

"That...would be interesting." Yang laughed nervously. "Well, so long as it's not—"

"Oh-ho!" A familiar laugh chilled them all to the bone. "Hel-lo, dear children! Gird yourselves, for trials and tribulations beyond your darkest imaginings await! Desperate battles far from light and hope, wherein life and death hang in the balance!" A burgundy slab of meat materialized seemingly from thin air, landing with a Remnant-shaking thud. It hoisted an axe heroically overhead, as if to pierce the very heavens. "But have no fear. For I AM HERE!"

Now, as the past semester and a half had made obvious, Team Rainbows consisted of some very different personalities. It was all the more remarkable, then, that they promptly adopted nine identical expressions of stunned horror. "P-Professor Port?" Ruby whimpered. "Are you going to be in charge of us all?"

Peter Port, for it was he, shook his head, mustache flapping. "Alas, no. I'm sorry to leave you heartbroken, Miss Rose." Somehow, Ruby managed to keep the heartbreak off her face. "Believe me, I would relish seeing the devastation you'd all wreak together, but my colleague thought it more efficient to run two separate parties. So we'll split the group between Miss Rose and Miss Schnee here, and—"

"Why me?" Weiss said, confused.

"Ah, pardon, I meant the other Miss Schnee—"

"Mister, dammit!" Sable barely restrained himself from throttling the fat professor. "Senile bastard..." he muttered under his breath. Apparently Port paid his students about as much attention as they paid him.

Port tugged at his mustache. "Oh dear! My, er, sincerest apologies. I meant no disrespect, I promise! Why, when I was your age, I was often mistaken for a fair maiden myself!" He sighed wistfully. "Ah, the salad days of youth! It seems only yesterday, that I wore a blouse and skirt better than any girl in Beacon—"

"Um, Professor Port?" Ruby interrupted, before they could suffer irreversible mental scarring. "Your story's really, um, interesting and all, but you said something about a colleague? Is there another Huntsman coming along?"

Port snapped his fingers. "Ah! Glad you asked, Miss Rose! He's...right here!" he flourished a hand towards the Bullhead, but nothing happened. "Oh for gods' sake. Wake up!" he shouted. "It's time!"

"Ugh...coming." a voice mumbled from inside. Ruby and Yang looked at each other, wide-eyed. A tall, lean man with messy black hair stumbled out of the Bullhead. He wore a weather-stained white-and-gray shirt; a tattered red cloak and the blade of some absurdly large weapon hung from his back. What stood out the most, though, was his scent. An miasma of stale alcohol hung around the man like a second Aura.

"UNCLE QROW?!" Ruby shrieked at ear-splitting volume. She rocketed forth to hang from the drunkard's arm, trailing petals. "I can't believe it! Am I dreaming?" she pinched herself. "Ow! Holy crap, it's really you! How?"

"Not so loud, Ruby." Qrow grumbled, slurring ever so slightly. "Oz messaged me about the Mountain Glenn sitch, a couple days ago, and I rushed back here." He flapped his arms like wings, grinning cheekily. "Just flew into Vale this morning, and boy, are my arms tired!"

Ruby groaned loudly, but Yang laughed. "Heh. Nice one." She gave her uncle a quick hug. "Good to see you, old man."

"Old man? Really? I don't have to stand for this!" Qrow turned on his heel and walked towards the edge of the landing pad. "I take time out of my busy schedule just for you, and this is what I get? Have fun in Mountain Glenn on your own—" Under Yang's apologies and Ruby's tearful begging, he relented. "Alright, alright, you're forgiven, just this once. Good to see you too, Firecracker. And Ruby, let Zwei out of that bag, you look ridiculous." Sheepishly, Ruby dumped what appeared to be a furry brick out of her backpack.

Weiss took in Qrow's unsteady gait and the suspicious flask at his hip, then looked between him and Professor Port. "This is all just a nightmare, right? I had too many apple tarts at the dance, right?" She gave Sable a pleading look. "Help me, brother." Sable pinched her hand, and slapped himself hard. "Ouch. Drat."

"Everyone, listen up!" Yang waved her arms for attention. "Meet my uncle! Qrow Branwen, slayer of Grimm, wielder of Harbinger...drinker of crappy booze..."

Port chortled. "Not to mention wearer of—"

Qrow cleared his throat. "Thank you, Pete. Let's see what we've got here, shall we?" His back straightened, and the drunken wobble suddenly left his step. He walked down the line of students, sizing each of them up with keen eyes. "You two...I have no idea who you are." (Ren shrugged. "You will!" shouted Nora.) "Your cereal sucks, honestly. Hopefully your skills don't." ("Eh, it's true." Pyrrha admitted) "You look like an Arc." Jaune gave a thumbs-up. "You're..." Blake paled. Qrow checked something on his Scroll. "Never mind, I'm not supposed to mention that." He took a swig from his flask. "A little Ice Queen. Great." ("Hey!" said Weiss). Two swigs from the flask. "And oh boy, a little Jacques."

Yang was the one with the rage Semblance, but for a moment, Sable's eyes seemed to flash red. "The fuck did you call me?!" His left hand twitched towards his sword. Lightning-fast, Qrow jumped back and held out Harbinger in a defensive stance. Fortunately, Yang tackled her leader to the ground, forestalling his potential suicide-by-Branwen. "Holy shit, calm down!" she bellowed. "He'd slice you up, you psycho!" She looked up at her uncle. "Uh, Qrow, could you maybe...take that back? I dunno who this Jacques person is, but I feel like he took it real personal."

"I was just going to have some words with him! Damn it Yang, get off me!"

Three swigs from the flask. "Good gods." Qrow muttered. "On second thought, I don't think Jacques would've done that." Somewhat mollified, Sable ceased his attempts to 'talk' to Qrow, and Yang cautiously released the boy. "Pro tip, kid, don't try and fight the guy who's going to be keeping you alive. Geez, and I thought Winter had a temper on her—"

"Oh, you know Winter?" Weiss said gingerly. She stepped between Sable and Qrow, straining to keep a polite smile on her face. "It's a, um, pleasure to meet you, Mr. Branwen. Ruby talks about you a great deal—"

Qrow grunted. "That's Qrow to you, Ice Queenlet. Mr. Branwen was my father...well, no one actually called him that, but still." He went to the flask for a fourth time, but unluckily, it had run empty. He drank anyways, for show. "And yeah, I'm acquainted with your sister. Sadly."

"Weiss, don't waste your manners on him." Sable got to his feet, still glowering. "He obviously hates us already, right, Branwen? Unless you normally insult people's families when you meet them?"

Yang slung an arm around each twin. "Eh, don't mind him. Qrow can be a bit...rude. Doesn't always leave the best first impression, but you get used to it." She winked at Sable. "Sort of like you, eh Icy-Hot?"

"Don't compare me to him!"

Qrow blanched. "Yeah, I'll have to agree on that one—wait! Icy-Hot?"

"What about it? It fits!" Yang retorted. "And you call people nicknames all the time!"

The rest of the adventuring party watched the spat from a safe distance. "Oh no, it's our first Grimm Studies class all over again..." Ruby muttered. Maybe it was a fundamental law of the universe, that Schnees and Rose-Xiao Long-Branwens (what a mouthful) were doomed to get off on the wrong foot.

"Nowhere to go but up!" Jaune tried to put an optimistic spin on things. "I mean, look where we are now! Team SJBY's a...a semi-functional group, I think?"

"And how long did that take?" Ren said pointedly.

"A few months?" Jaune winced. "Okay, we might have problems."

Nora just laughed. "Psh! It'll be fine! Give them some Grimm legs to break, and they'll quit trying to break each other's!"

Port stroked his mustache. "Wise words, Miss Valkyrie! Why, I've seen countless bonds forged in the fires of battle! From strangers to fast friends, in a field of mud and gore!" He fingered the blade of his axe, smiling creepily. "Ah, those were the days! I remember it like it was yesterday...the dying shrieks of countless foes...the way their life's blood left them, beautiful and terrible...that intoxicating coppery scent!" The students slowly backed away, except for Nora, who seemed utterly enthralled. "Grimm blood doesn't even smell like that..." Pyrrha whispered fearfully. Blake had retreated all the way up onto the Bullhead's roof, though perhaps that had less to do with Port, and more with the corgi prowling below like a shark.

"W-well, I'm sure it'll work out in the end!" Ruby said with forced cheer. "It has to! The fate of Remnant depends on us, guys!"

Up on her lofty perch, Blake just shook her head. "The world is so doomed."

*sad Oobleck noises*

Sorry, Doc. I promise, I have valid reasons for cutting your screentime. Maybe they don't need an archeologist as much since they have a better idea of where the base is...maybe Port bribed Ozpin with coffee beans...maybe I just wanted to switch things up because this fic's plot is unoriginal enough as it is (probably the last one).

Oh, and Qrow's here too. Him and Sable get along about as well as could be expected. Schnees and Branwens are just natural enemies, like Schnees and the White Fang, or Schnees and other Schnees (damn Schnees, they ruined the Dust Company!). Is relying on Bad Luck Man and a bunch of kids for a critical mission a good idea? I'm sure it'll be fine!

Reminder that Sable's sword is named Schwarzfeuer...ugh. Been, like, 14 chapters since I typed that name out. It seemed like exactly the kind of name an overly edgy 12-year-old (or whatever age they get weapons at) would come up with, and thus I feel like a total idiot writing it. I imagine it playing out like this:

WEISS: yes, she will be a rapier with six Dust chambers and I shall call her Myrtenaster. A classy weapon for a classy girl.

SABLE: PFFT LAME I'LL HAVE SEVEN. AND I'LL NAME IT REMNANT-GERMAN FOR BLACK FIRE BECAUSE I LIKE BLACK AND SETTING FIRES RAWR

WEISS: why can't you just be normal

SABLE: *screams*