The Crypters awoke to the smell of freshly sizzling bacon, Archer stood off in a small kitchenette, cooking with Sigurd. The Dragon Slayer was scrambling eggs and dicing peppers, while Archer cooked sausage and bacon. Junko yawned and his head rose, blearily groaning, "One, that smells amazing, two, what time is it?"
"It's 6:45, and we thank you for the compliment. Did you enjoy your night with the Dragon Witch of Orleans?" Archer asked, prompting the Swordsman to look, and be yanked back down, the snow-haired Avenger mumbling in her sleep. Servants didn't truly require the same things as humans. Human needs like food or sleep were guilty pleasures for Heroic Spirits. The woman in question yawned, her yellow eyes staring up at her Master before said eyes narrowed and she shoved him off the bed with a dull thump.
"Oh screw you Archer! Some of us Spirits actually happen to like sleeping!"
"And we didn't?.."
"Of course we didn't you idiot Master! I would never do such a thing, especially not with the likes of you!" Jeanne Alter snapped, fuming. Archer snickered, "Sure you don't, you failed to mention you were hugging him like a teddy bear for at least 6 hours."
"I counted 7 and a half." Sigurd joined in, dusting his hands off from making fresh bread earlier that morning. Jalter growled and summoned her flag, "So help me, I will shove this goddamned flag pole so far up your ass your voice will raise an octave!"
Junko grimaced and stood back up, planting a hand on Jalter's head tiredly. "Shush, people are still trying to sleep. If you'll excuse me." Junko didn't finish his sentence, faceplanting into his mattress once more. Lobo, with surprisingly no Hessian, his rider's unofficial name within Junko's group, curled up next to him and rolled the man over, giving him a patented dog look. The Crypter stared back in confusion as the dog pulled him to his feet and onto his back. Lobo then paced toward the table, sat Junko in a chair, and disappeared.
Jacob was the next up, roused by his Lancer, flicking him on the head. "Early bird get the worm, or, the early riser doesn't get stabbed. You recall our training, Jacob."
"Hello Scathach, good to see you as well. I would ask you not stab me before 10 AM, please."
Scathach looked downcast, looking up at the trampling of feet, Team RWBY appearing in the doorway. Jeanne turned her glare to the four girls, barking, "Guests? At such a hour, you're here to steal my food! UNACCEPTABLE! GET THE HELL OUT OF MY ROOM YOU GODDAMNED GREMLIN VULTURES! THIS IS MY FOOD, MINE!"
Assassin just drew his Calico, racking the slide with an audible click. "You're interrupting breakfast." He said coolly, "I advise not to." He pushed himself off the wall and began walking toward the girls as they all attempted to back away. The Magus Killer smirked, calmly dispelling his Calico, also sitting at the table alongside his Master, and the various occupants of the room as Archer set down omelets for everyone.
"As far as I am aware, we have nothing to do today, We have no classes, Team JNPR is busy with their own, soooo shopping?" Jacob spoke up, "I have heard some intriguing news, if I may interject. There's a trip to Forever Fall forest soon, along with a… "Vytal Festival Tournament" I believe it's called." Noroi chimed in, slowly working his way through his omelet.
"So training then?" Junko asked, hand drifting over to his blade. "Seems like the best idea, if ya ask me." Ewan answered. Archer grimaced, "Would you all eat first, I swear, anytime one of you mentions training for something, you all jump on it like monkeys. Honestly, I agree with Jacob, you all need to shop for clothes."
"Shopping it is then," Noroi said, finishing his food.
And thus, off they went into the city of Vale, stopping by many a store. They'd all agreed to split up and meet back up on the main street in a few hours to return to Beacon. Junko had ventured left, into a rather nice place called Adel's Botique, as recommended by Archer.
"Saw this place while I doing some scouting since you saw that Dead Apostle. I recommend it."
He hadn't questioned it at the time and entered the shop, whistling quietly at the sheer size, for a place called a botique, the shop was like a department store. He stood in stunned silence for a while, eventually being approached by a girl.
"You looking for something in particular? Just looking at you is giving me ideas…" the girl said, "Coco Adel, how can I help?"
Startled out of his reverie, the Crypter jolted and quickly replied, "Eh, help?!"
"Yes, help." Coco giggled, "Come with me, I'll get you sorted out, yeah? You can take off the hood too, no one's about to scream at you."
He followed as Coco led him throughout the store, musing to herself, "One… no, better to get him a few…" She eventually stopped by the dressing rooms of the store, ordering him to wait there, and so he did. She returned minutes later with various garments, thrusting them into his arms, before thrusting him into the small room. He stood in silence for what felt like minutes, before beginning to sort the given clothes, once finished, he dispelled his armor, taking a moment to regard himself in the mirror.
He was, in a word, ragged, his two-toned eyes were sunken and dragged down by bags from countless sleepless nights, although, he noted, they seemed to be lessening; despite the sunken, tired nature of his eyes, the orange and purple irises, courtesy of his Mystic Eyes of Premonition and Pyromancy respectively, shone brightly. He looked over his body and winced slightly. He was muscular, that was to be expected, he used to swing around a massive greatsword one handed, for goodness sake. What shocked him wasn't the sheer amount of scars and bruising from countless fights, it was just how frail he looked. His body was thin and almost sickly looking, to the point he wondered.
"How in the hell am I still alive?"
He certainly didn't know all the reasons, likely luck, determination and the willpower to move past his limit. Vaguely, he knew that it was that stubbornness that kept him both alive and yet in this state. He groaned inwardly and sent out a thought.
"Archer, do me a favor and make some lunch when we get back."
"Look behind you, Master." The Archer replied, the Crypter did so, eyes locking onto a large bento box sitting on top of a small bench. Dressing in a dark dress shirt and slacks, he swung his cloak back around his neck once more, pulling the hood up and stepping out, box in hand.
"You took a while, admiring your figure in there?" Coco joked, he smiled slightly, pulling the cloak's hood down further over his face.
"In a way."
She took a step back, seemingly looking him over before nodding to herself. "You look good in that," she finally said, "Go ahead and grab those other outfits, I imagine you've been in here longer than you'd like to be. I'll bag them up and get you outta here."
"I don't have money," he admitted, "None of us do." But she simply shrugged it off, "You helped my partner out when no one else would, and made a damn funny show out of it too. Your friend there was pretty good, I'll admit."
She led him back out of the store, bagging up the items as promised and sending him on his way.
"Where to next, Master?" EMIYA asked, "Off to get more clothes, are we?"
"Nah," he said out loud, " Just wondering if there are any shops with forges about."
"I could look around, if you wish, or forge you a blade if you so desire." The Archer offered, but the Master shook his head, "Rather do it myself, Archer. It's more personal that way, besides," he laughed, "As much as you'd try, you couldn't replicate the Sword of Retribution. I just need a Phantasm Catalyst…"
"Master. Considering we both understand what a Phantasm Catalyst, allow me to remind you why exactly that is a terrible idea. You're willing to risk your already deteriorating health to recreate a blade that will further risk that health, for what? You don't know these people, you have no stake in their lives, no part in their story, not really." Archer interjected, hopping from a nearby building to the ground, "You know first hand what being a hero is, so why insist on trying to be one?"
"Because he wants to help people! Is that so bad?!" A young voice challenged the Servant, Ruby, along with her team, walked up to the pair, "That's what Huntsmen and Huntresses do, that's what you did, isn't it?!"
Archer's head snapped sideways to glare at the girl, before retorting, "Have you seen who our Master contracted little girl? The Dragon Witch of Orleans? Burned at the stake by the English, that's what caused her existence. The Dragon Slayer, Sigurd? Murdered by his wife because of a curse. You talk of being a hero having experienced none of the hardship, none of the pain!"
"Hey!" Yang yelled, stepping up in her sister's defense. "She already lost her mom in this job, what do you know?!"
"What do I know?!" The man snarled in response, "I watched my entire province burn to the ground, my parents burned before my eyes. My adoptive father died next to me! My life? Being a hero? It all meant nothing in the end!"
The four stumbled back a step, even Yang's anger faded at the sheer and utter vitriolic hatred in the man's voice. His Master laid a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him; Archer shrugged it off, disappearing into Spiritron Particles. Junko sighed and fixed his gaze on Team RWBY.
"Allow me to let you in on something. Heroism isn't glory, heroism isn't people praising your name and you resting on your laurels after one tough battle."
"Believe me," Beowulf chimed in, Hrunting over his shoulder, despite the blade being coated in flames, "I fought and killed the giant Grendel, and then had to kill his mother after that, I died fighting a dragon in old age. No one sung my name. All I am is a myth, a legend. That's what we are, that's what embodies a Heroic Spirit. Not glory, or praise, but for most, the pain of their stories comes back and bites them in the ass. We're treated not as heroes, but weapons. No more, no less."
"The point is," continued the Crypter, "All of us, and our Servants, the Heroic Spirits we summon as familiars, are embroiled in pain. A lot of us would rather not relive it. My advice, don't follow our leads."
"You're walking into hell." Archer said, his glare still presently aimed to the 4 girls. "Are you willing to lose everything, everyone in the line of duty?" He questioned, not waiting for a response, "Most aren't, and if you are. You're an idiot."
The trio began to walk off, leaving the girls alone with their thoughts, particularly the young rose, she turned to speed after them, but they were nowhere to be found.
Jacob had walked to a cafe, and presently sat, enjoying a cup of coffee when Junko and Ewan came in, both sporting new clothes. They slid in next to their friend, Junko sour, and Ewan rather calm, the former took a swig of a thick black liquid, wiping his mouth and growling, "Damned bastard kids… can't just shut up…" Jacob gingerly rubbed his shoulder, murmuring, "The chicks, I assume? The ones wanting to be 'heroes'?" The Swordsman grunted in return, and drew out another flask, chugging a dark, brownish spirit, his nostrils flaring at the burn of the alcohol.
"Yeah, them. Don't know when to quit." He grimaces again, taking another swig as the Savior snorted in return, "Remind you of someone?"
Junko nodded solemnly, "Too much like me, me and Archer, especially that crimsonette…"
"Ruby, her name is Ruby." Jacob corrected, "I'll call her by her name when she earns it."
Ewan steepled his fingers, "I assume this isn't a social call, Watcher. What did ya come 'ere for?" Junko sighed, "Down to business, then? I need a Phantasm Catalyst."
"We don't even know if it'll work, and even if it does-!" Jacob began to retort, before Noroi just… appeared, the rainbow-ish glow fading from his eyes, the man's voice grave.
"We aren't safe here. Get moving, now."
The 4 exited in haste, but weren't even out the door when a blonde man stood in the street. Black, smoke like wisps of Mana rose from his right arm and part of his chest, his hair wispy, like flame itself was upon his head.
"A Beast, here?" The Savior cursed, drawing his spear. The man's eyes flickered to the weapon, before he responded.
"Crypters… The Queen of Darkness sends her regards, though I'll be sure to let you express your fury in person."
Junko stepped forward, drawing his hood back before the man, the Beast of Humanity. One he knew particularly well.
"Goetia."
"Junko Raphtalis, Master."
"No point in talking, is there?"
"I am afraid there isn't, not now."
"Then let's get to the point."
The Ashen Swordsman stepped out as his three compatriots disappeared, courtesy of Noroi's Mystic Eyes. Leaving man and Beast standing before one another. Goetia regarded him as one would an ant, sneering at him the same way he had in Solomon's Temple, 6 years ago. Junko just summoned up his armor, drawing his sword, already glowing black with Abyssal Flames, his armor's Magecraft dulled the pain, but even in pain, he glared and lunged. His cloak aflame, he slashed at the King of Humanity, cutting his cheek, although shallowly. He swung again, edge poised for the Beast's face-!
Goetia smirked, his palm streaked with red and gold as he tightened his grip on Junko's blade, a fist driven through the Crypter's armor and into his chest. Junko flew back like a missile, streaking back and slamming into a car with enough force to crater the chassis and shatter the windshield. He yanked himself out, the pavement split from his sledding venture; pain roared through his nerves and Magic Circuits like nothing he'd never felt, quite literally he felt he was dying and being restored over and over. His sword shone black, a guttural, animal howl roared into the silent air as he lunged back in, slashing the Beast from hip to shoulder before the Beast gripped his wrists and sent a kick into his chest.
The Abyssal Flames faded in a blink, and Junko's helm fell from his face as Goetia held him up, still looking him over with solemn sadness.
"What happened to you?…" The Beast whispered, "You are so near dead… anymore of this will kill you." Junko laughed, spitting blood on the pavement before glancing back up and wrapping his arms round the man.
"I will light the path. I will be the guide to salvation, even at the deepest cost-"
A sword-arrow slammed into Goetia and exploded as the Beast's grip loosened and Junko felt an arm round his waist, yanking him away.
"Forgive me, Master. Time Alter: Quad Accel!"
Junko felt his eyes going hazy, Assassin slashed at Goetia, his heels cut before the Counter Guardian took him again, dashing away before his Time Alter cut, his Prana spent to its last dreg, just spitting blood and coughing violently as his vision faded for its final time and he passed out fully.
The King of Humanity grimaced, damn them, damn them all to Hell, let the demons at them. That's what that nagging, overpowering voice said to him. But even so, there was some kind of innate force, some mental block, that didn't allow him to kill that man, Junko Raphtalis, he had said, his Master… But what did that mean, what what what?! He growled as his heels mended themselves again, and he moved away quickly, the destruction of their battle in his wake.
Noroi, Jacob, and Ewan stood in shocked, grave, furious silence as they stared down at their friend, bloodied, his 7th through 10th ribs shattered, his lungs shallowly rising and falling, his skin pale and chestplate sprayed with blood. His Servants were under temporary contract from the other Crypters, a rule Noroi had established as a fail safe in cases like the one presented, that is to say, if a Master cannot provide Mana to keep the contract established, their Servant or Servants would be passed to another member until their Magic Circuits had recovered enough to support the Heroic Spirits. Jacob murmured Thaumaturgies rapid fire, drawing and casting Talismans over his friend's wounds, the bruises and bloodied scrapes soon fading, sighing in relief.
"Thank God, he's not going to die of blood loss, and I can fix his ribs, just give me time…"
Noroi stepped up, planted a hand on Junko's chest and retorted, "Mystic Eyes of Alteration: Activate and heal." Junko's chest rose further, his ribs mending with further haste, bolstered by Jacob's Healing Talismans. Junko stirred and pushed himself into his elbows, coming face to face with a royally pissed Archer. The man opened his mouth, his face a visage of rage before he spoke.
"WHAT IN THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?"
Ruby yelped at the roar of anger from Team Reikland's room, rushing onto the door and burst through, Archer spun, backhanding the girl with a snarl, "You stay out of this! You want to see what happens to heroes?" The taller man gestures toward his "Master" with disgust, Yang and Blake rushing over to pull Ruby up, Yang growling,"You and I are settling this, now!"
Archer barked a laugh and turned, summoning his twin blades, Kanshou and Bakuya, sneering.
"Be my guest then, little girl. You wish to fight here?" He stepped forward, forcing them out of the room with each step he took forward.
Ruby and Yang retreated, Blake had seemingly returned to their room, sitting in her bed reading, though the detail escaped them, both didn't notice the girl hadn't blinked in several minutes.
"Wouldn't he have Aura?" Ruby finally asked, climbing into her bed, rubbing the sore spot on her cheek from Archer's smack.
Yang growled and retorted, "Who cares? I'll just finally be glad to put that smug bastard and his red-coated dick in their places. They're always acting better than us!"
Ruby neglected the swear jar comment on her tongue and returned with, "Maybe he's like Jaune, what if his Aura's not unlocked? He seemed pretty messed up when he came in."
"It's a surprise he's not unconscious with those wounds." Weiss chimed in, "His wounds were severe enough from what you've said to leave him comatose for at the very least a few days."
"How astute of you. Miss Rose, such is true. But he isn't the same and you or I. Those men are… enigmas with abilities we don't even begin to understand, this is why you must keep it secret, lest you risk the school or yourselves." Ozpin stood in the doorway, beside a squirming Blake. "Please let her go, Assassin, they won't bother your Master again."
The man appeared, holding Blake by the scruff of the neck, before dropping her and returning to the room, the door shutting behind him quietly.
"Get some rest, if you truly intend on fighting the man, you need it."
"You aren't stopping it?"
"On the contrary to my usual temperament, Miss Xiao-Long, I am not. You'll fight him tomorrow, I have assured that. Rest well." He exited, moving down the hallway, soon joined by Glynda.
"You really expect me to allow this, Ozpin?" She asked tentatively, Ozpin replied solemnly, sighing, "If you do not, she'll simply do it herself at some point, that is how all of them operate, it is expected, they are prone to reaction. It's why we are here, so as to temper them."
They reached a fork in the hallway and turned opposite to each other,
"….Good night, Headmaster."
"Good night, Professor."
And with that, both went down their sides.