AN: A couple things...
1) 25 Chapters! God help me, I'm not even close to half way done yet.
2) One thousand of you beautiful people are now following this rambling piece of work. It's another milestone I never thought I'd reach, and I am grateful for each and every one of you, whether you leave a review or not. Feedback is always appreciated, in any form, which brings us to...
3) At the suggestion of a few friends, I now have a Ko-fi if anyone wants to drop a tip in the jar. Same user name, different feedback.
Chapter 25
Paradigm Shift
To Qrow Branwen's adrenaline-soaked mind, Amber Herbst was one of the most maddening creatures on the face of Remnant. It had nothing to do with her cooking, which had thus far proved passable at worst. It wasn't her disposition, which was becoming sunnier with each passing day as she settled into what he remembered of her personality before she'd been attacked. She was definitely easy on the eyes; no complaints there, in spite of her scars reminding him every day of one of the most egregious failures in a long list of them. At the end of the day, it came down to one simple thing.
Amber...was a morning person.
Rather than verbally bemoan that fact, Qrow instead wheeled Harbinger in a low, sweeping arc, it's sword form far better at combatting a staff wielder who could otherwise get inside his guard. Granted, even with his experience and aptitude, Amber was regaining her skill at a frightening pace, to the point where he was seriously considering sparring with her at his full ability.
Not before coffee, though.
Qrow chuckled to himself at that silent quip, a cocky smirk going along with it that vanished the moment Amber's staff whistled through the space where his head had been a moment earlier.
I need to step it up, he thought to himself, launching a front snap kick into Amber's midsection, sending her halfway across the clearing, their impromptu arena deep in the forests of Patch already showing its scars after just a week. Qrow hesitated for a split second, torn between teaching and safeguarding his charge. The hesitation cost him, a gust of wind tearing through the underbrush and blasting him to the edge of the clearing.
Definitely need to step it up.
He yanked Harbinger out of the ground, having used it to kill his momentum, his cocky grin back as he let the fetters slip from his mind. This wasn't quite as fun as baiting the Ice Queen, but damn if she wasn't already a challenge to fight.
"Not bad," he said, stalking back to the center of the ring. "Let's try and keep it away from the house, though," he reminded her, the ramshackle cottage to his left not needing more holes for them to patch.
Amber twirled her staff a moment, extinguishing the wind Dust crystal she'd just used, walking towards her opponent, the early morning breeze stirring both of their capes along with what was left of the tall grass. With a soft grin of her own, she tilted her head to the side, working a crick out of her neck.
"I'll try not to hurt you, Qrow," she said, getting a chuckling grunt from him in reply.
With blinding speed, he dashed forward, vaulting over her horizontal strike without parrying it. Landing close behind her, Qrow spun and drove the hilt of his weapon into her kidneys, or at least he tried, her own pivot swinging her staff into and through the back of Qrow's knee. Qrow rolled into it, tumbling to his right and launching a low swing with Harbinger from his knees, his eager smirk evaporating when he felt the strike fail to connect.
He turned his head to determine why, finding Amber standing on the flat of his blade for a split second before she vaulted over his head. A somersault allowed her to clear distance, the end of her staff barely clipping Qrow's chin, his reflexes and Aura preventing a skull fracture in all likelihood. His counter strike was easily dodged, Amber continuing her momentum to open the distance at first, then executing three more cartwheels back to avoid shotgun blasts fired by Qrow as he got back to his feet.
Amber had a split second to regain her bearings before she bent over backwards to dodge a scythe strike, Harbinger inches from her face as time seemed to slow to a crawl. She let her momentum drive her, the back bend turning to a backflip, the point of her right boot ruffling Qrow's unkempt, sweat-drenched hair as he flinched to avoid the kick. He moved to press the attack, but was literally frozen in place by Amber's application of ice Dust to the ground as she opened distance between them.
Qrow slammed the butt end of Harbinger into the ice encasing his calves, sending shards flying.
"Not bad, not bad at all," Qrow said with a wry smirk.
"Don't pat yourself on the back too hard," Amber shot back, her stance relaxing after a moment, her smile matching his own.
"I was talking about you," he clarified.
"Take the compliment, Qrow. You managed to mostly keep me on your good side throughout the fight, so there's that."
"I was wondering if that was intentional," Qrow remarked, collapsing Harbinger fully and stowing it behind his back.
"You're lucky I'm still rusty with Dust," she added.
"I make my own luck," he replied, his smirk growing when Amber slipped on the melting ice, tumbling backwards into the grass. He was feeling pretty self-satisfied and totally not feeling guilty about flexing his Semblance a little until he heard a hollow thud when her head struck a concealed rock.
"Shit," Qrow hissed, taking two steps towards her before flinching back as she was engulfed in a swirling pillar of fire. "Amber!" he cried out, backing up slowly as the flames circled, their fury dying somewhat as the column of wind at its heart pushed outwards. "Oh, hell," Qrow groaned, finally spying Amber, levitating in the center of the tornado her power was generating. Her eyes wide, limned in the magical aura of the Fall Maiden, her face set in a grimace of anger. Qrow's stomach dropped as she focused her wrath upon him, a raised hand pointing at him heralding a whistling wind noise, quickly rising in pitch.
Huntsman reflexes kicked in, thankfully, and he was able to leap to the side before a narrow column of flame erupted from the ground where he'd been standing. His mind was racing, trying to figure out whether it was better to try and take Amber down, distract her or just let her anger burn itself out. A gout of flame was launched from an outstretched arm, leaving a black streak in the grass a foot wide and singeing the edge of Qrow's ragged cloak as he barely dodged the fire.
"Amber!" he shouted, not wanting to end up roasted like a turkey if he could avoid it. "It's okay, you're okay!" he tried to reassure her, his eyes drifting away from her to his forearm, the hair standing on end as a prickling sensation crept over his skin. He barely had a moment to roll away before a bolt of lightning blasted a foot deep crater into the loam.
Here goes nothing, he thought, grabbing a couple pieces of firewood the size of his narrow thighs from the pile he'd chopped the previous day, hurling them both towards Amber's face. The distraction lasted the half second it took her to blast both of them out of mid-air, but it was still enough for Qrow to dash into the circle, her concentration switching to defense reducing the flames surrounding Amber to nearly nothing.
Qrow wrapped his arms around her knees, dragging her back to the ground and working quickly to subdue her with wrestling techniques he'd picked up from Taiyang over the years. While he wasn't the unarmed combatant his Academy partner still was, he'd had to take down more than a few rogue Huntsmen in his day, and soon both of Amber's arms were pinned across her chest, Qrow's hands in a vise-like grip around her wrists while his legs were wrapped around her thighs, preventing her from getting any leverage whatsoever.
"Let it go, Amber. Nobody has to die here today," he said placatingly into her ear, even knowing the likely casualty was himself. He was more than surprised when she flinched and went limp after a moment, her breathing ragged but seemingly under control now, the visible sign of her power flickering out like a candle in the wind.
"You okay?" Qrow asked, not daring to release her just yet.
"I...I think so," she said softly. "What...happened?"
"You hit your head and decided to take mine off in response."
"Sorry," she said, sounding even smaller now. Qrow released her, sitting up on what was left of the grass, pulling her into a seated position as well. A brief flicker of her powers lit her face once again as she summoned a freezing wind to extinguish the small fires that might have gotten out of control with but a few minutes of inattention.
"I think we're done sparring for the day," Qrow said after he managed to get his heart to calm down, the brief resurgence of a potentially out-of-control Fall Maiden having spiked his adrenaline once again.
"Probably a good idea."
Silence reigned for several moments as they both regarded the ground rather than each other.
"I know you said you didn't know anything about my life before...before this," she said, a tired hand flicking to indicate the carnage she'd wrought in the clearing.
"Yeah, I don't. Oz probably does, but he's always been cryptic when it comes to you Maidens. There's even protocols for when your powers are passed on; new identity, training in secret, the whole nine yards."
"That sounds like a curse."
"Might be. Might be," he repeated softly. "I can tell ya from personal experience, living with a curse isn't fun."
Amber hummed sympathetically in response.
"Out of curiosity, why are you asking me a question I've already answered?"
Amber took a deep breath to steady her nerves.
"There was something you said. Triggered a memory somehow. I...I think I have an older brother. At least, that's what it feels like."
"Heh, sometimes I wish I was an only child. Ahh, who am I kidding? A lot of the time."
Qrow chuckled softly, getting a wan smile from Amber.
"It's like...I can describe him, but I can't see his face. It's weird."
"Sounds like it," Qrow rasped.
"Just a huge bear of a guy, same complexion and hair as me. Beard...I think. Always calm and collected, has a way of just calming things down, even when you want to strangle one of your other siblings. Maybe a coworker? Still not sure."
"Amber?"
"Hmm?"
"Listen, I know it sucks, especially not knowing like you do, but the protocols are in place for a reason. Oz told me that Salem has used the Maidens' families against them before. It's for your safety and theirs."
Amber sighed in resignation.
"But," Qrow began, already regretting the first word, let alone the rest of the sentence he was about to utter, "I'll keep an eye out."
Amber's smile grew a little at that.
"Thank you," she said, looking directly at him for the first time since their dustup.
"Ehh, don't go thanking me just yet. You might not like what you find, and that's if I find anything."
"I understand," she said, nodding gently. "Come on, let's go get something to eat," she added, getting to her feet and retrieving her staff.
Qrow joined her, the pair walking back to the cabin slowly.
"You get to wash up afterwards, since you lost," Amber reminded him mischievously.
"Hey now, I was holding back," Qrow countered, trying to look like his normally roguishly charming self.
"Sounds like something a loser would say," she replied, lightly tapping him on the nose before picking up her pace a little, leaving a dumbfounded bird in her wake.
Sean Blackman adjusted his bright copper necktie for a third time, trying to perfect the knot as it lay under the button-down collar.
"You look fine, honey," his husband reassured him, patting his shoulder. "Besides, it's not like you have to impress anyone actually important," he muttered in Sean's ear, pressing his bare chest into Sean's back.
"Look, Kyle, I know how you feel about Faunus, okay? It's just...this is the biggest property I've ever listed, and something that'll get me noticed by the boss man. Maybe start getting me more commercial work so that we can finally get solvent and be able to adopt like we've always wanted. I can't throw this chance away just because you're worried about me bringing home fleas."
"If you want to get noticed, you can just drop this on his desk," Kyle purred, reaching around and gently squeezing his husband's package through his boxer briefs.
"Behave, you," Sean said through a smile, taking one last look in the mirror before reaching for his slacks.
"I am behaving," Kyle replied with a smirk.
"Badly."
"You didn't specify."
"You know what I meant," Sean shot back through a smile of his own.
"Party pooper."
"That isn't what you were calling me last night."
"Mmmmm, no, I wasn't," he said, nibbling at Sean's neck. "You were wonderful, Daddy," he whispered.
"As were you," Sean purred, his smile growing warmer.
"Tell you what. You go be my studmuffin breadwinner, get that big fat commission, and we can hit Morello's for dinner to celebrate."
"Sounds like a date," Sean replied, slipping on his slacks and zipping up his fly, nearly pinching Kyle's hand in the process.
"Your coat, good suh," Kyle said with a posh accent, a silvery grey three button affair matching the slacks, pleasantly accented by his choice of tie and a pale cream shirt.
"Thank you, Jeeves," Sean replied in kind, a running joke between the happily married couple. "See you tonight," he added, leaning in for a brief, yet affectionate smooch.
"Sexual harassment is not in my contract, suh," Kyle replied, keeping a straight face as best he could.
"Smartass."
"Sho anyway, we deshided that we were jusht going to be friends," Nora said through a mouthful of pancakes before she swallowed. "We didn't want things to get weird when we got to Beacon."
"But...you're dating now," Blake said with a puzzled grimace.
"Oh, that was last year, Blake, try to keep up." Nora shoveled another forkfull, more correctly, two whole pancakes, into her mouth, somehow managing to not drip syrup onto her uniform blazer.
"You'd t'ink she'd've learned to jus' go wiffit by now," Jaune remarked offhandedly, cramming food into his mouth at a pace that nearly matched Nora's.
"I know, right?" Yang replied with a smile, catapulting a grape with her spoon for Ruby to catch on the fly. "I'm just glad you two aren't dancing around the obvious any more."
"We finally understood what we had to lose by denying what was in our hearts," Ren clarified. "A Huntsman's life is rife with risk and peril."
"I thought that was booze and heartbreak," Ruby said with a raised eyebrow.
"Not every lesson from Uncle Qrow was a good one, sis."
"You're sounding like Dad again."
"Whatever," Yang retorted eloquently.
"Do you two even taste your food?" Weiss remarked with mild disgust.
"Don't have time," Jaune countered, chugging his glass of orange juice before setting it down on his tray and tugging his napkin out of his collar and tossing it over the remains of his breakfast. He reached across Pyrrha's shoulder to give her a quick side hug before he stood up. "Gotta get to the office to help set up for combat class today."
"Don't you have Grimm studies at nine?" Pyrrha asked.
"Yeah, that's why I gotta get moving. I might not make it to lunch, either, not sure what Velvet's schedule looks like today." Jaune did a quick visual inventory of the dining hall, long rabbit ears difficult to miss in the crowd. "Looks like she beat me to the punch. Don't wanna let her do all the work," he added, moving to leave.
"Ahem," Ruby interjected, barring his path with arms crossed and a peeved look on her face.
"What?" Jaune asked, looking around the table and trying to discern what faux pas he'd committed.
"I worry that you're working yourself too hard, Jaune," she said, her expression shifting from miffed to concerned in an instant.
"Ruby, I've got this. Seriously," he replied, relieved that it wasn't something more serious.
"And I want a hug too," she quickly added, her soft smile genuine and transitory, her silver eyes going wide in shock at what she'd just admitted. Thankfully for her, Jaune's relief saw past all of it and he stepped forward to embrace the furiously blushing Ruby for a moment.
"Anyone else?" he asked the table.
"Pass," Weiss said disaffectedly, interested instead in finishing the application of a perfectly thin layer of jam on her toast.
"You had your chance," Yang added playfully, Blake breaking her sightline from her book for a moment to regard him before resuming her reading, her silence answer enough for him.
"All right, then. Take care, everyone!" Jaune added with a smile before walking quickly over to the scullery window and dropping his tray off on the conveyor. The rest of the two teams watched him move quickly out of the dining hall before their collective gaze fell on Ruby.
"Soooo...anyone know what's going on with this 'weapons demonstration' Professor Shaw scheduled?" Ruby asked, deftly changing the subject.
"I assume he's taking measure of our armament, to get a better grasp on our capabilities," Pyrrha said thoughtfully.
"That's what I thought at first," Weiss interjected. "Winter actually laughed when I brought it up."
"How is Hotter Weiss?" Yang asked, Her sidelong gaze at Weiss missing the peeved glance from her own partner.
"Winter is performing her new duties at her customarily exceptional level, something that I aspire to as well," Weiss said with just a small hint of pride in her voice. "I called her on Friday after the schedule was posted. She knows something, but wouldn't tell me."
"That's not ominous," Blake remarked dryly.
"We just have to trust the professor," Ren replied. "I don't think anyone here would say Shaw has been an inadequate teacher."
"He makes me miss the calm, nurturing voice of Goodwitch," Yang grumbled.
"Sun said that she's actually mellowed out a little," Blake volunteered.
"I thought you guys weren't a thing," Nora countered.
"We're still friends, Nora. He called me Sunday morning, after he'd called his family."
"How is he?" Ruby asked, glad that she'd managed to dodge the bullet of an awkward conversation.
"Sun is...Sun," Blake summarized succinctly.
"I kinda miss him," Yang said with a smile. "It was nice not always having to be the one to get a smile out of grumpy cat," she added, getting a brief, unamused glare from Blake in response.
"Speaking of class, we need to get a move on, too," Nora added. "Civil Engineering beckons," she added with an eye roll.
"We agreed to take it together, Nora," Ren reminded her.
"Yeah, yeah."
"What are you guys learning?" Ruby asked, having taken weaponsmithing theory for her technical course for the year, surprising absolutely no one.
"Village planning, focused on making a settlement defensively viable in case of incursion," Ren explained. "To include hasty as well as permanent fortifications."
"The best defense is a good Huntress," Yang replied with a cocky grin.
"That might be true, but fortifications can prove quite effective at keeping the Grimm from overwhelming Huntsmen on the ground and allowing us to take on the enemy on our terms," Pyrrha chimed in.
"Have you ever seen a Grimm attack on a smaller village; one that doesn't have the resources of a major city?" Ren asked pointedly.
Yang's bluster evaporated in an instant, her eyes finding the table.
"Yeah. They showed us that found footage from Kikuyuri our senior year at Signal," she admitted quietly.
"Properly prepared defenses would have given the resident Huntsman a fighting chance. Even had he fallen, it is entirely possible that he would have thinned the horde enough for the village sanctum to hold."
"Yeah, I guess. Nobody ever could tell me what made that shrieking noise, though," Yang added, shivering at the memory.
Ren bit his lips rather than speak, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath before exhaling, color draining from his entire figure before Nora's hand took hold of his own, squeezing firmly. He turned to her, finding her face set in a melancholy smile.
"It's gone now," she said softly. "And it won't ever hurt anyone ever again. Because of you, my strong, handsome love." Nora punctuated her statement with a tender kiss upon his cheek, getting the beginnings of a smile on his own lips as his color returned.
"Wait, you mean the wacky inflatable arm Grimm?" Yang asked, making the connection to Nora's story from Friday night.
"The Grimm that destroyed my home, yes," Ren confirmed. "If you'll excuse us?" he asked, rising along with Nora, the latter never letting go of her boyfriend's hand.
"See you guys at lunch?" Ruby asked.
"You bet your butt!" Nora answered cheerfully as the two walked away to dispose of their trays.
"I might have to consider that class next year. Kuo Kuana is always under threat from the local wildlife, in addition to the Grimm," Blake said sincerely.
"What, you going to leave Vale after graduation?" Yang asked.
"I haven't thought that far ahead yet, to be honest."
"But I'd miss you."
"Ahem," Ruby corrected her.
"Okay, we'd miss you. Well, except for Weiss."
"Oh, please. The one studious, quiet and dignified roommate I've had for the last year? I'd miss her far more than you, Yang," Weiss retorted acridly.
"You know you love me," Yang said, grabbing Weiss' far shoulder and pulling her in for a sisterly hug.
"Unhand me, you brute!"
"Sean Blackman," the impeccably-dressed realtor said with as much warmth as he could muster, extending a hand to the closer of his two clients.
"Nashi Mitsurugi," the willowy woman answered, her smile slight and professional as she took the proffered hand and shook gently. Her attire was conservative, but still flattering to her figure, a skirt and blazer combo in black with a creamy yellow blouse beneath. A subtle bow of respect was also given, something Sean had been prepared for by his client's Mistrali origin, and he bowed deeper in return.
"Welcome to Vale, Miss Mitsurugi. If I may be so bold, there's little need for a bodyguard within the walls of Vale. We even elected a Faunus Councillor last year!" Sean added hopefully, trying to placate his slender client, her deer Faunus ear flicking slightly at the curious change of subject.
"I...oh! No, this is my plant manager, Hideo Matsunoki," she clarified, introducing her burly Mistrali companion, a raised eyebrow matching the suspicious scowl on his face. The long-sleeved work shirt in a deep blue contrasted well with the khaki cargo pants he wore, both starched to an almost absurd degree.
"Oh, sorry," Sean answered quietly, offering a hand again.
"Ehh, I get that a lot, actually," he said, brushing off the sleight and firmly squashing Sean's hand in his meaty, calloused paw.
Blackman flinched for a moment, glancing down to find the source of his distress to be the crocodilian scales on the back of Hideo's hand.
"Sorry, I...I didn't expect that," he stammered.
Hideo and Nashi shared a brief glance, the set of his jaw expressing his displeasure at how the meeting was going, but he deferred to her more gentle nature and thus said nothing.
"So, you're looking for space for an import business, correct?" Blackman asked, desperate to get this train wreck back on track as he fiddled with the padlock on the massive loading dock door, thankful that his choice of an early meeting time had stripped the nearby street of its customary hookers.
"Of a sort, yes. I'm looking to expand my market share of the seafood and sundry imports business here in Vale with the additional vessels I have currently in production in Mistral. I'm hoping that this building can serve as a distribution point and processing plant."
"Well, I think this property is going to fit your needs and then some. Forty foot ceilings, little over forty thousand square feet on the floor, with another fifteen in the three story office structure attached to the west wall. Extensive water hookups throughout the floor, which is double thick concrete, rated at five tons per square foot," Sean paused, noting the interest the last two items had garnered. "Used to be Morningstar Brewery. Moved across town to a brand new facility five years ago. They make a killer hefeweizen, by the way. A lot of local bars carry it."
"I will keep that in mind," Nashi said diplomatically, a polite smile on her face.
"What's that smell?" Hideo asked, nostrils flared as he scented the air.
Blackman mimicked him, a deep sniff furrowing his brow before he hit upon an explanation.
"The food truck scene has gotten really big in Vale over the last couple years. Man, I hope that's Smokin' Pig Barbeque that's set up nearby. They've got some killer pork ribs."
Hideo gave his boss a suspicious glance, not entirely convinced it seemed, but said nothing.
"And, if I may be so bold, I would like to welcome the Five Winds Trading Company to your new Valerian headquarters," Sean said dramatically, bending a bit to grab the handle and yank it upwards, the overhead door rattling up and in with a little effort.
His two clients looked past him for a moment, and without the enthusiasm for the property he was expecting, let alone the exuberance he might have dared to dream of. He turned to look into the building and was immediately taken aback by the thin smoke that obscured the interior, wisps of it billowing in the wake of the door's movement as well as slowly creeping out along the ground.
"That's not right," Sean muttered, cautiously taking a few steps inside. The mystery scent had gotten much stronger for some reason, giving him pause. "Maybe they set up their smoker under an open window?" he mused aloud for everyone's benefit. "Entire building is steel-framed, so there shouldn't be any safety issues. Would you mind giving me a hand?" Sean asked of Hideo, walking over to a set of adjacent windows and opening them as wide as he could. Being a get-things-done kind of crocodile Faunus, he didn't offer any protest other than a nearly silent snort of derision for the well-dressed and therefore soft human.
"Any smoke damage, we'll take care of prior to move-in," Sean said with as much of a smile as he could manage, given that the promise would cost his firm a not insubstantial sum. "Pending your own building inspection, of course."
"Of course," Nashi echoed coolly, her voice having lost what little warmth it had held moments ago. Sean's already panicked heart started to fall even further, and that was before he heard her startled gasp behind him.
Both men turned about quickly, finding the source of Nashi's fear fifty feet away in the slowly dissipating smoke. Sean couldn't believe his eyes, his feet shuffling him numbly forward as if a closer look would somehow dispel the nightmare he was faced with.
Seven industrial grade steel armchairs, pilfered from the break room if he remembered the style correctly, were arranged in an outward facing circle ten feet across. Seated in each was a figure, a body, the slow realization creeping into his conscious mind filling his heart with dread. They were all burned to a crisp, contorted in agony to the degree allowed by the chains that bound them hand and foot to their seats. He could now smell the faintly sweet tang of fire Dust they'd been doused with before being set aflame.
"Oh, no," he whispered.
"You call this a welcome, human?!" Hideo growled from behind him.
Sean turned about, finding a pale Nashi standing behind an angry crocodile Faunus who'd found a rusted crowbar from the factory floor somewhere. His eyes went wide in fear, a small, primitive part of his brain screaming at him to run, but his feet could do nothing but backpedal clumsily, his eyes darting around for another exit that didn't involve pushing past the murderous-looking Hideo Matsunoki.
"Vale is safe!?" he angrily added, interposing himself between Sean and Nashi in a clear defensive posture.
"I...I don't…" he stammered, unsure where things had slipped into what seemed to be quite personal territory. He spared a glance behind him, trying to discern a connection and immediately spotted it. In spite of skipping breakfast, he nearly threw up.
The closest cadaver's head was lolled back in a silent scream of agony, but not far enough to entirely hide the blackened pair of antlers sprouting from the forehead. Sean's gaze flitted about, taking inventory. A singed tail here, claw-tipped fingers there. Every one of the seven had a visible trait, unanimous and utterly not a coincidence.
"Fuck me," he whispered. Reaching into his coat pocket, Sean Blackman retrieved his Scroll, axing his plans for dinner, a promotion and a family with a three digit call.
"Vale P.D., what is your emergency?" he heard from the other end of the line.
The outdoor venue was the first surprise for the afternoon; combat class was usually held in carefully controlled conditions for several quite valid reasons. Aluminum bleachers were set up, just large enough for the eleven student teams to have elbow room as they settled in. The Emerald Forest lay to their right, a sea of green roiling slowly in the breeze, a beautiful scene that everyone present knew firsthand hid fangs and claws.
Near the edge of the cliff, a large boulder stood, several burn marks and chips showing the abuse it had suffered over the years. In front of that was a heavily braced steel bracket that would hold a single plate, or anything similarly sized, veterans of a firing range recognizing a target frame when they saw one.
"So what's going on, Jaune?" Ruby asked from her seat next to him.
"I don't know," he replied, shrugging as much as his armor allowed. "He just told me to wheel that rack out here and set up the table. Heavy as hell."
The item in question was twelve feet long, large wheels at one end allowing relatively easy movement over uneven terrain. It held a series of wire frames which held inch thick metal plates, almost fifty of them, twelve inches square, the whole assembly resembling a very heavy single bookshelf. The table was a sturdy folding type with an aluminum top, a large equipment case sitting underneath it.
"Flynt?" Yang asked one of the only students with prior experience with Obsidian Shaw.
"No spoilers," he replied quickly enough, earning a disappointed scowl in return.
She would have tried Neon, but the energetic cat Faunus was far too occupied snuggling into her boyfriend's lap and cramming her tongue down his throat. "Eyes front, kitty," Coco said, elbowing her teammate in the ribs for good measure.
"Hmmph?" she replied, looking back over her shoulder without breaking her liplock with Cardin. "Crap," she muttered, giving him one more kiss before taking her seat between Velvet and Flynt, her prosthetics clanging against the bleachers with the two steps she took to reposition herself.
Shaw was walking across the lawn from the locker room, the first time the majority of the class had seen him in military fatigues rather than his dress uniform. A raggedly constructed cloak covered his right shoulder, the color of the patches various shades of grey that mirrored the camouflage pattern of his uniform. This utterly failed to move in the wind, indicating its weight. He stopped next to the plate rack, sweeping his gaze across the bleachers to verify the entire class was in attendance.
"See? Capes are cool," Ruby whispered as loudly, and proudly, as she dared.
"Good afternoon, class," he said, voice loud enough that everyone present heard him loud and clear. Nora looked briefly under the bleachers for a speaker, his tone entirely too similar to what she was accustomed to hearing indoors.
"Ever since the founding of the Huntsman Academies in the wake of the Vytal Treaty, Atlas, Beacon, Haven and Shade, and to a lesser extent, their associated combat schools, have emphasized teams and teamwork as a core concept of instruction. Mister Thrush, why do you think that is?"
"The more the merrier? I mean, having backup on missions makes things run a lot smoother," Russell said, almost managing to keep the uncertainty out of his voice.
"True, but no. Miss Belladonna?"
"It allows us to utilize our strengths to cover each other's weaknesses."
"Very close, but still not quite there. Let's put a pin in that question and get to the meat of the day; weapons demonstrations."
Ruby's enthusiastic gasp could be heard even above the wind noise, a good portion of the class chuckling with Shaw joining them a moment later.
"Looks like we have our first volunteer! Miss Rose, grab a plate off the rack and mount it down range, if you please."
Ruby trotted eagerly down the bleachers, her cloak flowing in her wake until she stopped in front of the plate rack.
"Pick one, they're all the same," Shaw informed her.
Ruby pulled one out and nearly dropped it, the weight surprising her.
"They're also heavy," he added helpfully, garnering a blush from Ruby as her classmates laughed at her near mishap. "Three hundred by three hundred by twenty-five millimeters. Eighteen kilograms of top grade Atlesian armor plate," he added, addressing the class now as Ruby lifted the plate into place and secured it in the frame. "Your task, Miss Rose, is to do as much damage as you can manage in ten seconds. Use any means at your disposal, and do not be alarmed if you can't make a dent, this isn't being graded."
Ruby's relief at the lack of grading was heavily tempered by the insult she felt on behalf of Crescent Rose. She stomped back twenty yards from her target, both to minimize the mechanical offset of her scope as well as avoid any potential ricochets, before she spun her weapon open, planting the point of her scythe in the ground and taking aim.
"Class, treat this as a scenario where you have only a ten second window to do as much damage to a single target Grimm before it breaks into a civilian shelter. Ready, Miss Rose?" Shaw asked
"Yes, sir," she replied, a wicked grin on her face as she sighted in.
The professor pulled a shooter's chronometer from his cargo pocket, holding it aloft where Ruby could hear. "On the buzzer," he reminded her, already a familiar refrain for the class.
With the press of a button, a tinny alarm sounded from the small box-shaped device, and Ruby wasted no time getting to work. Eight rounds barked out of the muzzle of Crescent rose in less than a breath, her redesign having indeed increased her fire rate. Sparks and fragments of copper and lead erupted from the impact face of her target as she fired, before her muscle memory started running through her tactical reload, slamming a second magazine home and firing all but the last two rounds. She let the recoil from that penultimate round flip Crescent Rose up and over, one last trigger pull discharging a blast of gravity Dust that launched her forward. She brought her weapon, now unfolded into its long scythe form, into a powerful, overhand swing, landing nearly perfectly centered in the top edge of her target with a tremendous clang a split second before the buzzer sounded again.
Shaw came up behind her to inspect the damage, Ruby panting and disheartened at the mere inch she'd managed to cut into the steel. Her bullets had formed a nearly perfect group, naturally, but clearly hadn't managed to penetrate either, a perfectly centered starburst of powdery lead and copper residue inside a modest dimple in the metal the only evidence she'd even fired her rifle.
"Excellent output, Miss Rose. While I understand that most Grimm won't be able to shrug off standard rounds of your caliber, you might wish to carry armor piercing rounds for larger species."
"I do carry them in the field, but they're too dangerous for class," she muttered, giving Shaw pause before he nodded.
"Fair point, and I thank you for keeping your fellow students' safety in mind. Now, who's next?" he asked, beginning to work his way methodically through the class.
As would be expected from the variety of weapons present, everyone succeeded to wildly varying degrees. Weiss had attempted to heat the metal before blasting it with ice Dust, leaving no visible damage, but Neon had followed her and shattered the compromised steel, the grain structure where the plate had broken in half showing that Weiss had done most of the heavy lifting. Coco Adel had insisted on going next, with a fresh plate, and Gianduja had plowed through it with a second to spare, to universal cheers from the class.
These were not echoed when Pyrrha casually stepped forward and drove her spear straight through the steel plate like it was made of clay, Nora's exuberance almost making enough noise to counter the stunned silence the Invincible Girl had once again instilled in her classmates. Yang's own efforts were a flurry of blows augmented by contact blasts from her shotguns, but all she managed to do was bend the target frame slightly. This was further exacerbated when Cardin Winchester extended The Executioner, winding up with several walking spins to deliver a single, thunderous blow that not only bent the plate, but broke the target frame itself.
A quick jog back to the Combat Arts building later, Jaune had a second target frame set up. This allowed Nora a chance to show off how insanely accurate her grenades actually were as she emptied the magazine before a running flip of Magnhild deployed her hammer just in time to flip over the target frame entirely with an uppercut that had launched Yang into low Remnant orbit last year.
The rest of the class was handled quickly enough, the friendly competition that had developed among them leading to good-natured ribbing and quite a few single-Lien notes changing hands over bets on teammates and friends. Shaw allowed them a few moments at the end to enjoy their camaraderie, taking the opportunity to wheel the plate rack away from the table, placing its wheeled end against the rock that had backstopped the first target frame.
"So, who's left, class?" he asked, sounding almost jovial, as if some joke was in the offing.
The class as a whole paused, several team leaders conducting a quick headcount, all of them coming to the same conclusion.
"Pretty sure that's everyone, sir," Jaune spoke up.
"I know for certain there's one of us left, Mister Arc," he replied with a smirk. This prompted another mental inventory from the class as Shaw pulled up the case, set it on the table, and opened the lid, tossing several hardlight projection units around the immediate vicinity. Pale blue Grimm simulacra sprang to life from each after a moment, differing species and forms two dozen strong. Ruby finally put two and two together, her eyes going wide and an excited gasp leaving her throat.
Shaw unfastened his cloak, laying it across the table before doing the same with a veritable arsenal of weapons. A tube-framed rifle with a bayonet nearly two feet long uncoupled from magnetic grapples on Shaw's back first, laid neatly over the cloak to keep it from falling off the edge of the table. Next came a large mace that dangled from his left hip, the construction of which Jaune recognized from seeing it in Shaw's office the previous week. Third was a single tonfa carried across the small of the back similar to how Ruby carried Crescent Rose when stowed. The last of the weapons put onto the table was a pair of long-barreled pistols that got Ruby's eyes watering as she recognized their origin.
She gave a barely audible sniffle, getting Jaune's attention immediately. He took in her posture and pained grimace, placing a gauntleted hand over her forearm.
"What's wrong?"
"Ruby?" Yang asked, leaning forward to look past Weiss in concern.
"I...that's…" she barely managed before Shaw's booming voice overtook them.
"Class, I present to you, the Eternal Chorus," he said with a flourish of the hand. He paused for a moment, tamping down his own emotions with a deep breath before continuing. "Each weapon belonged to someone very dear to me; a piece of them I keep close to remind me of when they fought by my side in life." A hush fell over the class, the pair of students who'd seen the weapon suite before remaining silent out of respect for the dead.
Their attention now completely undivided, Shaw returned to the lesson for the day.
"As we were discussing at the beginning of class, teamwork is a central concept to the Academy system. Each one of us has a skillset, weapon and Semblance that allow us to perform various roles on the battlefield. For instance, you have the long range specialists," he said, pulling the rifle from the pile, elegant in its simplicity, yet still showing touches of engraving that felt oddly familiar to Weiss.
"Galespike, my trusted right hand for nearly thirty years now," he began, shouldering the weapon quickly and firing off four quick blasts of cerulean energy, each striking one of the hardlight targets and fragmenting them like broken glass. "Excellent reach, both as a rifle and in melee," he continued, spinning it once to extend the bayonet and unfold the tubular frame into a yari just over eight feet long. Shaw delivered a quick flurry of strikes; long sweeping cuts with the blade as well as lunging stabs that destroyed another pair of ersatz Grimm.
Shaw folded Galespike back into its rifle form, the bayonet retracting underneath the barrel before he stowed it on his back again. He reached for the cloak next, taking a firm grasp near the hem and somehow pulling a sword from it. The hilt was one-handed with a small crossguard, an etched blade giving the appearance that it was segmented for its entire length.
"Then you have the close range specialists, working close and tearing out the core of an incursion. Bramblevine. Coral Donovan." Shaw tapped a button on the corner of the crate, summoning replacement Grimm. "She was a dancer on the battlefield, always able to get inside defenses no matter how stout," he added, his massive frame moving with far more speed and agility than anyone thought possible to engage a cluster of Beowolves. Five fell in the blink of an eye, clearing his immediate reach. "But she still could lash out when the situation called for it," he added, a single swing deploying the weapon into its extended form.
The fifty segments of the blade were now held together with a fine cable, chevrons of razor-sharp steel every four inches. The lash made a ferocious, staccato popping sound with the first swing, each point reaching and breaking the sound barrier in rapid succession, cutting the forepaw from an Ursa Major with surgical precision before the rest of the chainsaw-like whip ripped the Boarbatusk behind it in half.
A second strike wrapped the end of the whip around a silently snarling Beowolf. Shaw yanked the hilt of Bramblevine sharply, tightening his grip on the target before delivering a sustained electrical blast through the length of the whip. The Dust charge disrupted the hardlight construct after a second, current singeing the grass, causing tendrils of smoke to rise on the breeze.
With a quick flick of the wrist, Shaw retracted Bramblevine's whip into a blade again before he slipped it back into the hem of his cloak. "Some Huntsmen are able to draw the attention of the Grimm, bearing the focus of an attack before unleashing powerful countermeasures. Skyfall, what's left of it anyway," he began anew, picking up the mace from the table and resetting the targets once again, "Reddick Donovan. When I first met my partner, I could scarcely believe someone could move a weapon that huge as easily as he did. This is just the core; it used to be a war maul as tall as I am. Still, Redd made it look like he was waving around a broomstick," he added, getting a smile out of Nora.
Without another word, Shaw leapt back into the fray, his armored boots thudding through the grass in the most efficient path possible to decimate another round of targets. Each swing was perfectly timed, with no wasted movement before, during or after each stroke. As he moved, the head of the mace began to glow with a sickly purple-black energy, his blows somehow perfectly measured to smash the Grimm and stop an inch beyond, no further. What the class initially judged an errant strike that fell between a pair of Beowolves was proven to be far more, the gravity Dust crystal at the heart of Skyfall discharging its stored kinetic energy in a crackling blast that shattered the two target Grimm and left a spherical crater in the dirt a foot deep.
"Strength and discipline in equal measure," he concluded, dropping the mace's wrist loop onto a hook on his left hip. "Then...you've got the wild cards. Frostbrand," he said simply, retrieving the tonfa from the table, the quality of the engraving the equal of its brother, but with a slightly different motif. "My sister Diamond reveled in the havoc she could create; 'chaos on legs' our instructors used to call her," he added with the barest hint of a melancholy smile. "Growing up and training together, we knew each other and our weapons like the backs of our hands; better than partners, even better than other twins." As he spoke, Shaw worked through several short katas, the movement of a large man using such a comparatively small weapon effortless to the point of being comical.
Moving with purpose, a wide swing unleashed a shower of lethally sharp ice shards, enough to shatter another Ursa. In the same motion, Shaw's thumb depressed the trigger in the hilt, a five-round burst of heavy pistol rounds discharging from the butt end of the weapon and finding another Beowolf, blasting a fist-sized hole through its chest before it collapsed. Frostbrand was quickly stowed and the Combat Arts Professor took a deep breath before opening the freshest wound on the agenda.
"And finally, you have the prodigies. Huntresses that can make everyone around them better through raw competence. Floating Array," he intoned, his voice somber. Lifting both pistols from the table, the class could see the severe rake of the grips, the folded sword blades seamlessly integrated into their current form. "Penny Polendina was, by a wide margin, the greatest student to ever grace the halls of Atlas Academy, and her potential as a Huntress was limitless." Aiming the brace of pistols akimbo, Shaw snapped off alternating shots of green-laced purple, a slow rhythm marching through the hardlight targets. Headshots picked off every single Beowolf without hitting anything else in spite of their proximity to other targets.
"Her weapon was an extension of her very soul, wielded with the precision of a scalpel, something I can only attempt to duplicate," he added, a quick flick of the wrists straightening the hilts and snapping the blades open for two single-edged swords. Underhanded throws lodged the blades in the nearest Ursa before they were quickly yanked free, swung on wires nearly invisible to the naked eye into sweeping arcs that began mercilessly dismembering the remainder of the targets. His work done, Shaw pulled the swords back into his grip before placing them together, blades back to back. They clicked home, forming a short broadsword that he held up for a moment before he flicked his wrist and planted it into the ground tip first.
"Now, As Mister Thrush pointed out, having multiple weapons at your disposal, not to mention the hands to wield them, is always a welcome luxury in combat. As Miss Belladonna stated, having different options for every situation opens up avenues to victory you might never have imagined by yourself." He paused for effect, letting the class' interest build for a moment before continuing. "A team brings numbers to the fight. A good team brings balance. But a great team…" he trailed off, taking a moment before tossing the chronometer to Jaune. "If you would be so kind, Mister Arc. It should still be set to ten seconds."
Having nearly bobbled the catch, it took Jaune a moment to verify that was true, and he nodded in response. "Ready, sir?"
"Always," Shaw answered firmly. "Might want to cover your ears, class."
The buzzer sounded and the Combat Arts Professor began to move rapidly and fluidly, no wasted motion or inefficient paths. Galespike was first, unlimbered and opened in the blink of an eye, Frostbrand quickly attached lengthwise, an audible click-hiss heard as it attached, alongside, a light sprinkling of hoarfrost covering most of the joined weapons. Shaw then swung the butt end down to his left, slotting it into the haft of Skyfall and getting another positive click.
Next was Floating Array, a quick swing and pivot attaching the wide blade at the opposite end. The last piece of the puzzle was Bramblevine, a quick smack of the flat of the blade at the hilt causing the blade to go limp, magnetically attaching itself around the macehead of Skyfall, a slight spiral allowing the whole blade to fit. A crackle of electricity could be seen as Shaw lifted the now-hefty weapon aloft, two quick spins executed as his armored boots extended several clawlike cleats around the circumference of the sole. Bracing himself, he slotted the side grip of Frostbrand into his shoulder, another click heard as he took aim downrange. Jaune's eyes barely registered the countdown quickly running out, Ruby's own interest in Shaw's weapon keeping her fixed in place, a wide-eyed stare of adoration evident on her face.
With a second to spare, the two blades of Floating Array separated, energies in several colors arcing in the three inch gap opened between them. A rising whine could be heard, not unlike the capacitor noise of one of Velvet's camera flashes, only to be drowned out by a point blank thunderclap that sent most of the students ducking for cover from its intensity. Those who managed to pay attention saw the entire plate rack jump, a shower of sparks bursting to life along its length before a dust cloud followed, itself dwarfed by the explosion that consumed the boulder that stood behind it. The breeze took this away slowly, giving the class a moment to recover before being shocked again by what was in front of them.
Shaw stood, his weapon resting butt-first on the ground, the discharge of energies leaving steam to wisp off the barrel where Frostbrand had been cooling it. The rest of the tableau was outright unbelievable to many present. The plate rack was mostly intact, but the plates weren't, each one punctured in succession, the curling edges of exit wounds pointing towards what remained of the sizeable boulder they'd been using as a backstop.
"A great team," Shaw resumed, "through direction, determination, and faith in each other, can accomplish the unthinkable. A great team does not see a hopeless situation, but rather a challenge. Of all the virtues of a Huntsman, one of the greatest is adaptability. The talent to see every possible avenue of attack, defense and escape, and to be able to shift between them without a moment's thought. I am going to train up your adaptability this year, class, and the first test begins now," he added, snapping several students out of their daze and into sharp focus.
"You've all had a year to learn how to work with a partner, in some cases, more than that," he amended, nodding to Team CFVN. "Barring a tragedy, you are going to keep your partner for the rest of your time here at Beacon. Once you graduate, however, that is not guaranteed. I know, I know, 'I'm never giving up my partner for anything in the world'," he demurred, gently mocking the youthful optimism of such a sentiment. "Life happens, class. And that's not even necessarily a bad thing. Your partner might move somewhere to take a permanent posting, join the military, take a break to raise a family," he trailed off, the point made.
"Therefore, you are all going to be given new, temporary partners within the class. You will have to learn to work together quickly, just like in a field assignment. Two weeks from today, we will be having a series of pairs matches between these new partnerships which will be graded." he emphasized, lest anyone get ideas of slacking off.
"Everybody take five, stretch your legs. I had the assignments ready, but after seeing some of your performances today, I'm changing most of them," he said with grim finality, injecting a hint of paranoid anxiety into the mix.
"Winter must be laughing about this," Weiss muttered darkly.
"Aww, come on, Weiss, it's not going to be that bad! You'll have me back in two weeks!" Ruby reminded her.
"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" she retorted with gentle sarcasm.
"Whatever," she said, rolling her eyes at Weiss' joke. At least, she hoped it was a joke.
"I just hope they don't pair me with some asshole," Yang muttered, glaring at Cardin as she stood to stretch her legs.
"Who do you think you're getting, Jaune?" Ruby asked, shifting her attention to someone who would be nicer to talk to.
"Iunno. Knowing Shaw, it could just be completely random, like initiation."
"I hope not. I mean, wouldn't it be cool if we got paired together?" she asked with breathless enthusiasm.
"I mean, sure, I guess I could carry you in a fight," he joked, still not done teasing her for losing to him on the first day of class.
Ruby Rose, paragon of maturity, blew a raspberry back at him.
Patrick Marlin's nose wrinkled as he closely examined the face of John Doe number three as he crouched to regard blackened skin, cracked in several places to reveal the dark red flesh beneath. Badge and sidearm both were tightly clipped to the police detective's belt, itself doing an admirable job of keeping his slightly pudgy waistline in check.
"So, whattya think, Patty?" his partner asked, swiping through a tablet Scroll gallery of photos the evidence technicians had taken, and were still taking, cataloguing every bit of evidence from the grisly crime scene. "Gang traffic?"
"Might be, Blacky. There's no shortage of Faunus-only gangs, but it doesn't smell right. Too many bodies at once," he answered. "Three of 'em have ankle monitors, so that tracks at least."
"Yeah," Blake DiNozzo muttered, switching apps and logging into the Vale P.D. database. "Techs pulled IDs from the leashes," he said, using the distasteful, if fairly accurate, nickname for the devices, "and they belong to...what the fuck?"
"What?" Detective Marlin asked, standing and turning to face DiNozzo.
"They're listed as active and monitored, but there's no assignments in the database for any of them."
"Lemme see that," Patrick demanded gruffly. "Who authorized these?" he flicked through the information tabs irritably, stopping and scowling at what he'd found. "Oh, you gotta be shittin' me!"
"Hello to you too, Detective Marlin," a slender, black-suited gentleman said with a disarming smile as he approached. "Detective DiNozzo, I presume?"
"Call me Blacky," the younger of the pair answered, offering a hand.
"Special Agent Dawes," the new arrival replied. "Valerian Carabinieri."
"Yeah, Blake, this is the guy that kicked me off that home invasion case last week, when you got pulled to help with the Torchwick case after Roan bought it."
"The way you described it, that sounds like a good thing."
"This another one of your messes?" Marlin asked.
Dawes paused for a moment before stepping closer to the bodies, circling slowly as he took in every detail he could. Antlers, tails, a lone tusk; they all painted a grim picture.
"Yes, this is most definitely my mess," Dawes concluded, slicking a hand through his nut-brown hair. He stepped close to Marlin, offering a sidelong glance. "Can he be trusted?" Dawes asked quietly.
"The fuck is that supposed to mean? Of course he can!" Marlin answered angrily.
Dawes looked from the frankly offended Patrick Marlin to the simply confused Blake DiNozzo, his mouth momentarily screwed into a contemplative scowl before he pulled his Scroll out, tapping a few commands in before pocketing it again.
"Congratulations. By the authority vested in me under article 12A of the Valerian constitution, you are both hereby deputized as members of the Carabinieri until the conclusion of this case."
"Cool! We get a pay raise?" DiNozzo asked before Marlin smacked him in the back of the head.
"Off the books, I'm afraid," Dawes clarified.
"What new color of bullshit is this?" Marlin demanded angrily.
"I need people inside Vale P.D."
"You've already got them, especially with the new transparency protocols."
"And that's precisely the problem," Dawes countered, clearly unhappy.
"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"There's a mole in the Vale Police Department."
"Ehh, she's kinda hard to miss," DiNozzo piped up, their Faunus desk sergeant a lovably gruff mother figure for the entire department.
"Trustworthy, but stupid," Marlin amended, smacking DiNozzo again.
"Ow," the cowed detective muttered.
"Six weeks ago, in the interests of increasing domestic security throughout the Kingdom of Vale in the wake of the Breach, the Council passed resolution 84-07, mandating full record sharing between all law enforcement and intelligence agencies. During that timespan, the Carabinieri became aware of a plot to rob the Vale Central Bank. Our agents prevented the robbery, apprehending or killing all those involved."
"And?" Marlin asked, still irritated it seemed.
"Cormac Browne was the informant who tipped us off."
"Oh," he replied simply, his scowl falling. Patrick Marlin didn't like where this was headed, not one bit.
"We were debriefing him and his family in a safehouse in the Garden District. Ample security, three armed Carabinieri on duty at all times."
"I didn't get far enough into the crime scene to figure out who the humans were," Marlin muttered. "Not before you showed up."
"I lost good men that day, Detective. I intend to see their murderers brought to justice."
"You think this is the same outfit then?"
"Fairly certain, yes."
"Doesn't seem like it on the surface. Who we talkin' here? Doesn't seem like Junior's boys, really. Torchwick's a ghost, and the Spiders are never this public."
"Cormac Browne was my eighth and newest informant within the White Fang itself," Dawes said with the full gravitas the declaration deserved.
Marlin paused for a moment to process this news, especially in the light of the Fang's involvement in the Breach of Vale. His gaze crept across the room, fixing on the charred corpses.
"And they're the other seven."
"Got it in one, Detective."
"Fuck me," DiNozzo offered in a dread-filled whisper.
For once, his partner didn't smack him for his intemperance.
The class had broken into knots of students, full teams for the most part, with the odd pairing of friends either added on or standing just apart. The chief topic of conversation was, of course, their unconventional assignment, which was saying something given the teaching methods of some of the other Beacon faculty, past and present. RWBY and JNPR were the only ones behind the bleachers for now, the rest of the class either still in the bleachers or off to the side.
"Ooh, ooh, ooh! Sugar Rush!" Nora gushed, her arm over Ruby's neck, eagerly hugging her potentially new partner.
"Heck yeah!" Ruby chimed in, pumping a fist, clearly on board with the proposed team name.
Yang chuckled at the girls' antics, not worrying overmuch for Ruby, instead focused on her own prospects, or more properly, her partner's. Blake had been a difficult nut to crack for Yang, let alone someone who wasn't as socially adept as she was.
"Hmmm," Nora continued, releasing Ruby as her imagination continued to work. "Aha!" she said after a moment, yanking Ren over and shoving him into Yang's side, both of them startled, but not surprised. "Sunflower?"
"Sure," Jaune shrugged. "I don't have anything better."
Nora's gaze darted about the rest of the two teams, her mind racing before she caught sight of Jaune and Weiss in close proximity.
"Don't," Weiss warned icily.
"Aww, come on, Team White Knight is already training together, you guys would be great!"
"While Jaune is becoming...passable…"
"Thanks, Weiss," Jaune grumbled, rolling his eyes.
"...and I agree that on paper, our skill sets complement each other, I don't think I could get him to my level in two years, let alone two weeks."
"Weiss!" Ruby chided, Pyrrha's scowling gaze backing her up.
"Ehh, don't worry about it, guys," Jaune reassured them. "She'll be okay without me to carry the load."
Weiss leveled a glare at Jaune that would have had him stammering out an apology a year prior, but Jaune simply smirked playfully in response. Yang's eyes narrowed at that, still not happy with how much he'd changed, apparently.
"Well, who are you hoping to get, then?" Ruby asked, mirroring several unspoken questions throughout the class.
"Someone who isn't bothered by a challenge," Weiss replied testily, hoping that nobody had noticed the flicker of a glance she gave to Pyrrha. "Whoever they are, I'm sure we'll excel just like I always do."
"Yeah, we all know you're hot shit, Weiss," Yang fired off with a smirk, drawing an even more furious glare in response.
Weiss' internal debate over whether and how to respond verbally to Yang evoking that particular memory was interrupted by Scroll notification tones going off all around them. Delicate fingers retrieved and opened her Scroll, pale eyebrows shooting up in surprise briefly before her scowl turned instead to a satisfied frown. "I can work with this," she said without apparent complaint.
Ruby did the same, her eyes going wide as she gave a delighted gasp.
"Yes! Pyrrha!" she chirped happily, a flurry of petals raining down as she Semblanced her way to Pyrrha's side, Ruby's arm wrapping possessively around her waist. "Mine!" she proclaimed with a little bit of a growl in her voice.
"I thought you wanted Jaune, sis."
"I'd be offended," Jaune said, "but I know how awesome Pyrrha is."
Pyrrha simply blushed furiously at the praise, knowing how genuine it was coming from the pair of them.
"Meh," Nora pronounced, showing her Scroll to Ren and getting the same in return. "Guess we'll just have to slum it for a couple weeks. Not like we haven't done that before."
"Let's go find Russell and Sky then," Ren said
Yang was uncharacteristically nervous, waiting to open her own Scroll, but this was forgotten when she heard Blake beside her.
"Ohhh, nooo," she groaned softly, reading her fate.
"What is it, Blake?" Yang asked, placing a hand over forearm.
"I…" she said, her cat ears pinned back.
"Blaaaaake," Neon said with a saccharine smile, both tone and grin conveying barely restrained menace. She was approaching the group with her boyfriend in tow, her prosthetics thudding heavily into the ground. "Hiiiiiii, how ya doin?"
"Fiiine," Blake replied nervously, her inflection rising, recoiling as Neon got uncomfortably close, the obnoxiously bubbly Faunus nearly nose to nose with her counterpart.
"Soooo, new partners, time for 'experimenting' and all that jazz," she began, complete with finger quotes. "Let's just get one thing straight, shall we?"
"O...kay?"
"Touch his dick, and I rip those pretty little ears off," she growled, "ya hear me?" she added, her smile wider and more predatory now.
Blake blinked slowly, her brain trying to process how anyone could even think she'd be interested in Cardin Winchester, even as a friend, let alone sexually.
"Kitten," Cardin said reassuringly, squeezing her shoulder in a gentle, but firm, grip, pulling her back into his embrace. "You know I'd never cheat on you, right?"
"It's not you I'm worried about," Neon grumbled, and Yang lost it, erupting into cackling laughter. "What?" she demanded testily.
"Ohhhhh, kitty cat, you are so barking up the wrong tree. Or is that meowing?" Yang pondered.
"Huh?" Neon and Blake both said, voicing everyone's confusion.
With a mischievous glint in her eye, Yang flicked her hair to the side, mostly obscuring her face from view. She lifted Blake's chin with a gently placed finger underneath, pivoting her gaze into her own just long enough to silently mouth just go with it before she leaned in and passionately kissed Blake. Cat ears flicked upright in shock, Blake going rigid for several seconds. Her panic was compounded by the feeling of Yang's hand firmly squeezing her backside for a moment. Eventually, Blake began to relax, moments stretching out into decades as the shock-induced adrenaline rush flooded her system.
Yang released her partner after a few seconds, backing away to find Blake giving her a slack-jawed stare, golden eyes wide as she ran a hand through Blake's hair, briefly caressing her ear.
"She's not big on PDA," Yang stage-whispered.
That broke the trance, Blake bowing her head slightly, hiding a furious blush behind her book.
"That explains a lot," Cardin muttered.
"Well, don't you go getting any ideas, then," Neon said, shifting her attention to Yang. "This cat doesn't eat pussy."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Yang asked, and Neon answered by opening her scroll and shoving it in her face.
"Oh. Well, how about the four of us get together after dinner and figure out what we're going to do with this," she suggested.
"Sounds like a plan," Cardin conceded. "Just message one of us in BEST."
"Yeah, sure." Yang said dismissively as they turned to leave, Neon jumping into Cardin's arms for a princess carry. "What?" she asked of the dumbfounded remainder of the two teams.
"I can't believe you did that," Blake moaned from behind her book.
"I can't believe it worked," Yang countered.
"There you two are," Coco said as she approached with her partner in tow.
"Hello, Coco," Weiss said, her voice genteel and warm.
"What do you say to dinner in Vale tonight, Schnee? Someplace nice and... intimate, where we can get to know our new partners better?" she asked, dipping her sunglasses enough to give Weiss a thorough onceover before winking at her.
"Are you asking me out on a date?" Weiss replied with barely concealed disgust. "I'm straight."
"So's linguine until it gets wet," Coco fired back easily.
Weiss' disgust broke cover, screwing her face into a scowl of disdain and horror.
"Oh my God, Yang, you were right. She is so much fun to mess with," she added, giving Yang a subtle high five while Weiss seethed in silence.
"I guess we'll discuss things at work then?" Jaune asked, reading his Scroll.
"That works, I reckon," Velvet replied.
"Arc! Scarlatina!" Shaw bellowed from the other side of the bleachers.
"Speak of the devil," Jaune grumbled. "Guess we have cleanup detail."
"We'll see you for dinner, right, Jaune?" Pyrrha asked.
"Yeah, shouldn't be a problem, right, Velv?"
"I don't think so, no," she replied. "Come on then."
The pair of TAs stalked off towards the front of the bleachers, leaving RWBY, Pyrrha and Coco behind.
"This is gonna be so cool!" Ruby opined, startling Pyrrha out of a wan smile as she watched Jaune leave.
"I suppose I'll have to slot you into Jaune's place in my training schedule," Pyrrha replied, getting an eager smile from Ruby.
Until she remembered the horror stories Jaune had told her over the previous school year of Pyrrha's ruthless training regimen.
"You don't have to, I mean… Don't want to deprive your partner, after all…" she mumbled, steepling her index fingers.
"Don't let her slack off, Pyrrha," Weiss said, breaking her silence.
"Traitor!" Ruby hissed.
"Oh, and she's pushy, too!" Coco added. "Momma like."
"I'm only looking out for my partner," she shot back, her prim and proper facade now fully in place again.
"Speaking of, can you give me and Blake a moment?" Yang asked, using the warm tone that Ruby had termed her 'Team Mom voice'.
"Let's go see if Jaune needs some help," Pyrrha suggested, getting general nods of agreement from the other three girls.
Yang waited until the rest of them were out of earshot before she spoke.
"You okay, Kitty Cat?"
Blake gave her a flat look, not outright angry, but clearly conflicted.
"I still can't believe you did that," she muttered.
"Truth be told, me neither. Idea just struck me out of the blue. I'm not the tactical genius here, remember?"
"So that was just…"
"Preventing a literal cat fight, yes."
Blake took a deep breath before letting out a heavy sigh.
"Just don't ever do that again, all right?"
"Not without buying you dinner first, got it," Yang replied with a grin that fell the second it was met with a golden-eyed glare. "Kidding," she hastily amended. "Though I must say, if that's your A game, I don't know that I'd want another anyway."
"You surprised me."
"So you're saying…"
"Don't ever do that again," Blake interrupted.
"All right, all right." Yang paused. "I will also say, that wasn't my A game either," she added.
"You're horrible."
"You know it!"
Blake sighed softly, unable to completely suppress a smile.
"Thank you."
"For?" Yang asked, not willing to break the mood with a saucy, but likely incorrect, assumption.
"For stopping that fight before it started. I don't know that I could have defused it without things getting ugly."
"Yeah, we didn't need that. Though I could totally kick their asses, if it came to it."
"I know."
They both shared a smile for a moment.
"You're a good friend, Yang."
"We'd better get going before people start talking about us again," Yang offered.
"Like they're not already, thanks to you."
"Before they start talking more about us," Yang corrected.
The VNN splash reel began; upbeat, serious music framing the various establishing shots and preceding the roll call of presenters with equally impressive face shots.
"This is the Vale News Network evening news, with: Lisa Lavender, Roger Stone, Karen Weathers - sports, Jim Greene - weather, and Tim Pool on commentary. And now, Lisa Lavender."
The camera cut to a tight shot of Lisa in her anchor chair, a small sheaf of ultimately superfluous papers in her hands, as the teleprompter underneath the camera presented the copy in a far easier to read format.
"Good evening, Vale. Our top story tonight takes us to the waterfront, where the Vale Police Department is investigating a multiple homicide in the former home of Morningstar Brewery."
Exterior shots began to play, a shaky camera able to show the numerous police vehicles outside, along with crime scene tape marking off the entire perimeter.
Unseen by VNN viewers, Lisa Lavender's face showed a little concern, even as her professional demeanor prevented her from stopping.
"The facility was abandoned after Morningstar relocated to their new facility in the upper garden district, unable to attract a buyer. It seems, however, that the building has attracted attention of a far more deadly sort."
A gurney with a black body bag was wheeled into the coroner's van.
"Vale PD has yet to comment on the matter, citing an ongoing investigation, but VNN has obtained exclusive footage pertaining to the incident. Due to the violent nature of this footage, viewer discretion is advised," she warned, almost succeeding in keeping the trepidation out of her voice.
A camera, grainy but readable, was perched in the rafters of the warehouse, the seven victims seated in metal chairs that had been bolted to the floor. Their faces weren't recognizable at that distance, but the larger Faunus features stood out.
"Patty!" Blake DiNozzo shouted as he dashed into the office he shared with his partner. "Turn on VNN!" he blurted before Marlin could ask him.
Slight movement indicated that they were all likely still alive at this point. The image was troubling, but not terrifying, until a long file of thirty individuals walked in from off camera, each clothed in black robes with red hoods.
"No," Blake moaned softly, seated on the couch in RWBY's dorm suite, getting the attention of the rest of her team. Yang scooted closer to her partner, laying an arm across her back and squeezing her far shoulder. Ruby and Weiss' eyes went to the screen, but only Weiss truly understood the import of what she was seeing. A gasp left her lips before Blake felt Weiss' hand on her shoulder, looking up to see her face conflicted, but ultimately sad and sympathetic.
The hooded figures formed a circle around the captives, one of them standing apart and slightly inside, a golden circlet on their brow.
"Murray? Murray!" Lisa Lavender whisper-hissed into her microphone, desperate to get an explanation from her producer in the booth.
"Lisa!" she heard after a moment, his voice tinny over the nearly invisible earpiece.
"How the hell did this make it past the censors?!"
"I don't know! That wasn't supposed to be the lead story! We're locked out of the system back here. I can't even cut the feed! Kevin's on his way down to the tower now to cut transmission manually."
"We are so fired," Lisa moaned, her colleagues looking to her for reassurance.
"From time immemorial, we have been the guardians of humanity," the single figure began, arms spread wide like a preacher, the sound quality surprisingly good for the mediocre image quality.
Ozpin sat at his desk, watching the news with eyes narrowed behind his glasses, his mug of cocoa forgotten for now. Bartholomew Oobleck sat across from him, his visage grim in the face of one of the ugliest chapters of human history playing out before them.
"Keeping our rightful place on Remnant safe, our bloodlines pure," the figure continued with the practiced diction of a politician.
"Where did they even get…?" Marlin mused aloud, interrupted by his Scroll ringing. He looked at the contact's picture and his face immediately soured. "Shit," he muttered, thumbing the 'answer' button. "Yeah, figured you'd be calling, Dawes. That's not our fucking footage. Yeah, I'd like to know where they got it, too. Media compliance should already be headed over to the station, but the damage is done. I'll loop you in once I've found out more. Yes, I believe you now. Now let me get back to work, or drag your ass down here and actually do something besides stand around and look cryptic." Patrick Marlin thumbed the connection closed.
"So when's the wedding?" DiNozzo piped up next to him, earning a headslap for the smartassed comment.
"Even as others claiming to be our protectors consort with the mongrels, allowing them to bring chaos to our beloved Kingdom,"
Arthur Watts was likewise expecting a call, or, precisely, two of them. He wasn't disappointed when one of his burner Scrolls rang halfway through the newscast, though he was truthfully surprised which of them had called first. He answered the call with a quick tap on his earpiece, audio only so as to not give away any details about his physical location.
"Yes, Daikunshu, I'm watching it now. Yes, I'm not quite sure how they got such excellent video and audio," he said, throwing a glance to Neo and Mercury, a wink the only praise they'd get for their part in the day's events. "The cat's out of the bag, or, well, in the body bag, in this case. I must admit I'd never seen a proper wreath burning before."
He paused to take a sip of his coffee.
"Well, it moves your timetable forward, certainly. The people of Vale know that the Sanguine Brotherhood stands with them, even if no one else will." Watts paused again, listening to Jacob Frost. "I was hoping you wouldn't ask me that question. The decryption effort isn't going as quickly as I'd hoped, but I am getting snippets of the reports themselves so far. I hope to have those names by the end of the week. Thank your men, by the way. The chip printer was delivered without a scratch, and I should have it up and working tomorrow. Yes, to you as well, Daikunshu," he said graciously, closing the connection.
"Mercury, if you please?" Arthur said, tossing the Scroll roughly in his direction, only to have it blasted out of mid air with a roundhouse kick that shattered the device.
"They refuse to acknowledge the truth that God created Man and Faunus apart from each other, and to act against that divine mandate invites the Grimm."
"Well?" Roman asked, always hungry for information.
"That went as well as could be expected. He doesn't seem to suspect anything, even though I'd be able to get a better read face to face," he amended, getting a grunt of agreement from Roman. "And don't you two go getting big heads over it, but excellent work, all three of you."
Neo preened slightly, Mercury seated across the card table from her giving Watts a satisfied smirk.
"Ya know, I gotta admit, I am liking the new management," Roman said, barely letting his sarcasm show at the final word.
"So noted," Watts replied, lifting his coffee mug in a toast to what seemed to be a slightly deeper partnership.
"Junketsu wa hagane yori mo tsuyoi," the leader pronounced, producing an old cigarette lighter and sparking it to life. Several of the Faunus captives could be heard begging incoherently before the lighter was tossed at one of their feet, the tell tale sparkle of fire Dust showing how they all ignited so rapidly, screams of agony heard for several seconds before the network feed cut off abruptly.
Blake wept silently, her teammates huddled around her in a vain attempt to offer her solace.
The technical difficulties screen could not be banished from the VNN feed, several other channels preemptively going to pre-recorded content as well, given the sabotage at their sister network.
Ozpin gave a soft exhalation of breath, staring into the distance.
"Alert the student body they may be needed on the wall tonight, possibly the next few days."
"Yes, professor," Oobleck said quietly, already tapping away at a large Scroll tablet to get the mass messaging function in the BEST app online. "You know, as a historian, it's not often you can actually feel history being made around you. This is a turning point, and I cannot say for certain how Vale is going to change."
"I have faith in the people, Bart. Anything else is...unthinkable."
"Perhaps we'll have another fulcrum come forward to stop this unchecked hatred."
"Fulcrum?" Ozpin asked, genuinely curious at his meaning for the term.
"Something I call the pivotal people in history. The ones who buck trends and influence others to be better than they were before. King Ozymandias ending the Great War, Cyrus Arc and the Vale Compact, Oscar Mason's treatises on the primacy of reason igniting the Mantlean Renaissance. I could go on, believe me," Oobleck admitted.
"Indeed, I believe you could. Can I ask you an odd question?"
"Questions are neither odd nor impertinent. Something Professor Drake told me once," he added, reminiscing on his tenure as a student at Beacon.
"Perhaps," Ozpin replied with a slight smile. "Tell me, what's your favorite fairy tale?"