Chapter 26

Straightening a Few Things Out

The sun hung low over the horizon, the namesake of the Bay of Mists slowly burning away as Headmaster Ozpin lifted his mug to his lips and took a long sip. His eyes betrayed no emotion as he stared across the bay to Vale proper, the only other people present at the air docks being the few pilots and aircrew with flights scheduled this early in the morning working on preflight checks for a pair of Bullheads.

Without preamble, Ozpin heard the muted crunch of gravel underfoot behind him, a brief glance over his shoulder confirming his suspicion as to the identity of his new companion. Ozpin's silent vigil over the bay continued for several moments, Bartholomew Oobleck similarly nursing his own tall travel mug.

"Headmaster," he said nonchalantly.

"Doctor," Ozpin replied just as casually.

The two professors shared another few moments of comfortable silence in spite of the tension born of their fateful conversation the night before.

"I'm in," Oobleck pronounced simply.

"I had hoped you would be."

"Who else?"

"The other Headmasters. Qrow Branwen. A few others might have pieces of the puzzle, depending on what James and Theodore have confided in their immediate subordinates. Glynda is still trying to get a handle on Mistral's Huntsman issues."

"That seems a very narrow group to deal with a threat of this nature, if I'm being honest."

Ozpin took a deep breath, the expected question still a long-lingering wound in his heart.

"There's more to it than I told you last night. We'll discuss the rest later, when we can manage some privacy."

Oobleck hummed softly in agreement, looking forward to another meeting if only for the ability to pick the brain of someone who had lived through millennia of untold and misunderstood history.

"Have you read the morning reports from the wall?"

"Yes, and I'm worried."

"By no uptick in Grimm activity?" Ozpin asked, having come to much the same conclusion but curious nonetheless as to Oobleck's reasoning.

"If the population of Vale had reacted in horror to an actual wreath burning, it would be expected, if troublesome to deal with, but something else has happened. Either the Faunus and Humans believe this turn of events to be normal, justified even, or…" he trailed off ominously.

"Or?"

"Or they are biding their time, lardering away their anger for another day. I cannot tell which this is, but both options are troubling, Ozpin."

"Indeed. That does, however, present us with time. While a finite resource, time can be properly utilized to solve any problem presented to us. Rash action, however, cannot be undone."

"Are there any parallels to be drawn from this to any of your...prior experience?" Oobleck asked, exercising discretion in a public location.

"Oddly enough, no. The Sanguine Brotherhood was one of the few welcome casualties of the Great War. The adoption of the shizukesa doctrine by Khan Qian Po criminalized their behavior even more beyond the mere barbarity of it all, the public incitement of hatred becoming a de facto capital offense. I could have pushed harder for more concrete rights for the Faunus within the Vytal treaty, but the lack of a clear successor to Sheikh Suleiman severely limited my options. The Menagerie solution was the best option left, in the end. Faunus would at least be safe from reprisals from soldiers mustering out of the militaries who had fought a ten year war and lost. In any case, the Brotherhood was already on borrowed time when the war broke out, and the relocation of the Faunus to Menagerie made their entire cause a moot point. There have been rumors of their rebirth, but I never imagined they would announce themselves so openly."

"I had already surmised much of this, but a firsthand account is always welcome."

"While I don't mind having such discussions, we do need to focus on the here and now. If we didn't, I fear you and I would die of old age while you pick my brain."

"Perhaps," Oobleck conceded. "I make no promises, but I shall do my best to rein in my curiosity."

"I appreciate your sacrifice, Doctor," Ozpin said with a smile.

"I still have questions. But another time. The freshmen await." With that, Oobleck took another sip, turned, and walked off to class.

"Mister Arc, Miss Katt, to the floor," Shaw announced, Jaune's nerves mostly under control, despite drawing an upperclassman for sparring, especially in the spotlight of being the last match of the day. He paused for a moment, listening to Pyrrha's quickly whispered tip about Neon's deceptive speed and the reach of her weapon.

"Watch and learn, Top Heavy," Neon said over her shoulder to her temporary partner.

Yang rolled her eyes at the insult, but was nevertheless interested in the matchup, watching Neon idly twirl her nunchaku as she thud-skipped down the steps to the arena floor, high-fiving Coco after her victory as she exited for the showers. Simeon Rice was a third-year transfer from Haven and fellow heavy weapon specialist who simply couldn't outpace Coco's damage output. Jaune was already dreading having to be on the receiving end of Gianduja one day.

"Good luck, Jaune," Pyrrha said with a smile, raising her right wrist for Jaune to bump with his own, a pre-combat ritual for the both of them now.

"You know, I never thought I'd ever meet a student more obnoxious than you, Yang," Weiss said, prudently waiting until Neon was likely out of earshot.

"I'll tell her you said that," Yang replied easily.

"I'll tell her I was right."

Yang elected to not reply verbally, instead pulling on her lower eyelid with her right index finger and sticking her tongue out at Weiss.

"Troglodyte," Weiss muttered, rolling her eyes with a half-smirk on her lips.

"Pyrrha?" Ruby asked softly, plopping into Jaune's seat to watch the match with her new partner's analysis on tap.

"Hmm?"

"What's a troglodyte?" she whispered, hoping Weiss wouldn't hear her admit to ignorance again.

"It's...somewhat accurate?" Pyrrha replied diplomatically.

"Oh," Ruby said quietly, silver eyes riveted on Jaune and Neon.

Jaune drew Crocea Corax, expanding the heater shield and fixing it on his left forearm, dropping the point of his sword low and behind him. It was a tradeoff, like Sensei had taught him, a slower overall attack speed offset by obscuring the weapon while also allowing room to truly build up power in the swing.

Neon's eyes narrowed, contemplating her opening for a moment before pulling the two staves of Ghyslain apart, parallel to the ground before bringing her hands together, an audible click heard as the steel cable joining them retracted, fixing them into a short staff three feet long, a second click expanding that to nearly five and a half. Neon went through a brief warmup kata, twirling her staff fluidly until she held it down and low in her right hand, mimicking her opponent, her left hand in front of her for an open palm strike should it be called for.

"I'll be sure to take it easy on you, Johnny," she said in a manner that indicated both that she wouldn't, and knew damn well how his name was pronounced.

Words only hurt if you let them, Yak Boy.

Jaune took a deep breath and let it go slowly. He could let Neon get to him, and probably get his ass handed to him on a silver platter, or he could answer her with his sword.

"Fighters ready?" Shaw asked after the safety barrier had flickered to life.

Neon chuckled a bit, her grin mischievous with just a hint of malice. He had nearly bested her boyfriend, after all. "Ready, sir."

Jaune gave a long nod before bringing his shield up, the top edge just below his line of sight.

"On the buzzer!" preceded the claxon by a scant second.

Neon sprung to action, a slow, looping circle taken as she trotted around Jaune's shield side, paying careful attention to his footwork as she changed the angle on him. Pyrrha could see how he moved from a closeup feed delivered to her tablet Scroll, a small burst of pride swelling in her heart at how he'd improved after her lessons, both virtual and personal. Sure, it was likely that this Sensei person, in spite of their methods, also had something to do with this result, but she would always take a win where she could in relation to Jaune.

Neon's first strike was a probing sweep, easily deflected by Jaune's shield, his counter charge surprising her with its speed even though she got the other end of her staff around to deflect his sword strike without much effort. The two followup slashes were likewise blocked, Neon's staff ringing from the impact of metal on metal. She sidestepped a thrust, ducking low to throw staff jabs at Jaune's feet, making him dance to avoid being disrupted entirely. After a second of this, Jaune's stance had broadened considerably, which had been her goal all along, allowing Neon a quick rising strike between his legs. Her face fell when Ghyslain was intercepted by Jaune's shield, a moment before she had to bend backwards to avoid a horizontal slash that could have taken her head off but for Aura.

A few students were still shocked by the ruthless brutality that Shaw allowed in comparison to Professor Goodwitch, but most had learned to roll with it. The hard reality of their chosen vocation was something they accepted, by and large.

Neon rolled her torso at the hips, keeping her balance well enough to pull her staff back and around, taking Jaune behind the right ankle, sweeping the leg and dropping him onto his back. A long follow through swing later, she brought it down on him in a heavy vertical smash, crashing into Jaune's shield with a tremendous clang, Pyrrha flinching a bit at an impact she knew he'd had to fully absorb rather than deflect.

Neon looked to capitalize on Jaune's position, but was forced to jump back as a swing from Crocea Corax launched a wide arc of flame at her feet. She escaped damage simply because she wasn't weighed down by preconceptions of her opponent's previous school year. A quick twist of the wrist got another crunching sound from her weapon, a pale blue glow flickering to life after a moment, Ghyslain covered immediately after by a fine dusting of hoarfrost. Jaune kipped up from the floor, wobbling a moment after he landed but still managing an acrobatic maneuver that caught his friends by surprise.

"Nice," Ruby said in praise, Pyrrha nodding beside her, leaning forward as if being four inches closer to the arena would allow her to better evaluate Jaune's performance. This was flashy, if nothing else, repeated slashes launching gouts of flame at Neon. Her defense was solid, ice Dust countering every strike, a cloud of steam slowly building between them both until visibility became compromised.

Jaune paused the onslaught, contemplating his next move before he could hear her footfalls, prosthetics thudding against the floor as she sprinted in to resume her offensive. She emerged from the mist at a full sprint, reflexes still sharp enough to react to the electrical discharge arcing from Jaune's horizontal slash. She vaulted over it easily, her speed beginning to bleed into her trademark trailing rainbow as her Semblance built charge. She tucked into a front somersault and landed on her feet just in time to catch a brutal shield bash to the face, the impact sending her rocketing backwards across the arena. The students gave a collective oof at the impact, Cardin chief among them, even though he knew exactly how tough Neon actually was.

She pushed up, looking across the arena floor at Jaune with a sneer that mixed amusement and hatred in equal measure. "Allllll righty then," she said in a low growl, getting to her feet. She collapsed her staff back into its nunchaku form, a quick flip with her right hand planting the loose chukon-bu in her armpit. She stamped her feet, one after the other, the majority of the class watching in fascination as the backs of her calves shifted outward, concealed mechanics in her prosthetics extending a five inch wheel to just behind her heel, stretching out a thick band of textured rubber. The soles of what most had thought to be low platform shoes sprouted an additional three, slightly smaller ones, a full loop of miniature caterpillar tread giving her both traction and off-road capability.

Jaune could only tilt his head in puzzlement before his predicament became apparent, the high-pitched whine of powered roller skates loud in his ears as she accelerated. Neon took a long, circling path around him, slowly tightening the noose as she built speed, her Semblance-born color trail nearly ten feet long before she took a sharp turn in. Neon bore down on him like a freight train, Jaune's shield taking the brunt of her strike and not in a good way. The impact from her seemingly unstoppable momentum forced him back several feet before he could stop his staggered steps.

Jaune barely had a moment to regain his bearings when another impact rocked him from behind, Neon's speed enabling her to change her angle of attack quickly and repeatedly. The gaudy color trailing behind her grew with each pass, Jaune managed to catch a glimpse of it in between punishing attacks raining down on him. His armor and Aura managed to mostly blunt them, but her speed was making counterattacks nigh impossible.

"Come on!" she taunted as she skated away from another strike, her wheels squeaking in protest with her sharp turns. "Stop playing pattycake and hit me!"

Jaune growled, knowing he wasn't going to survive long unless he changed things up. A brief moment's thought brought him to his last practice session with Weiss, covering the various uses of gravity Dust. He sheathed Crocea Corax, keeping the shield deployed as he dove forward, heading off Neon's next attack with a massive pulse of purple energy. Gravity Dust blasted her back a bit even as he launched himself backwards, skidding to a halt with the safety barrier five feet behind him.

Neon got back to her feet, well, wheels, letting out a grunt of annoyance as she took in the change in the fight, Jaune's sword singing out of its scabbard again as he stared her down. Her ability to blitz him from multiple angles was gone, but there was still enough room to get in and out if she was careful. She revved her skates again, spiraling outward from the center of the ring and accelerating towards Jaune. Her widening path allowed her to actually increase her speed through the turn, the squeal of rubber on concrete growing louder by the second. Jaune set himself for a colossal clash, racking his brain for options.

Never try to be the immovable object. The anvil will yield long before the hammer does.

Sensei's lesson in mind, he let his stance go back to the beginning of the match, hiding his blade low and behind him, waiting for another pass from Neon before he pulled it up slightly to belt level. A quick twist of a thumb ring on the hilt ejected the tubular Dust magazine, a magnetic coupling on his belt securing the sturdy device in place before he shifted the hilt over a few inches and slid it further upward to load a fresh mag.

Ammunition secured, his thoughts touched on what had and hadn't worked so far. As Neon bore down on him, looking to actually make an attack this time, time seemed to slow, dilating as adrenaline worked its magic. His last lesson with Weiss in mind, Jaune brought Crocea Corax around, a low sweep conjuring a Dust-born sheet of ice in front of him, covering the likely avenue of attack from his colorful opponent. The ice nearly reached the safety barrier, a narrow gap of clear floor that would put her between him and the wall, if she chose to press the attack rather than backing off.

Jaune couldn't help but smile when Neon took the bait, adjusting her course towards him, her outer skate riding up the safety barrier a few inches before she settled in again. Timing it perfectly, he delivered a powerful swing through where her knees would be in a moment, his left arm already following through for a shield bash that would be augmented by Neon's considerable speed and hopefully end the match.

He hadn't expected the sword stroke to connect in the slightest. What actually surprised him was when his shield didn't hit either.

Jaune's eyes went wide as he saw Neon appear under the path of his attacks, legs spread and parallel as she literally limboed under his strikes. Her left foot hooked around his own before he could react, allowing her to quickly pivot as she rose to her feet behind him. A quick pirouette behind him placed them back to back, but only after she'd swung Ghyslain once, the cord going taut across Jaune's throat, Neon keeping a deathgrip on both staves of her weapon as she put her shoulder under her hands and lifted up and forward, Jaune gurgling briefly before the chokehold truly sank in, his feet lifting off the deck a few inches.

Jaune scratched ineffectually at the narrow but durable cable linking the two halves of Ghyslain with his gauntleted left hand, smacking himself in the face with his shield in the process. His right hand tried to swing Crocea Corax behind him, ice, fire and lightning Dust discharging fitfully in his panic, failing to do more than superficial damage before his vision quickly faded to black, the hold putting vise-like pressure on his carotid artery.

The claxon sounded, not that Jaune could hear it, and Neon allowed him to crumple to the deck in a heap after a second's pause. She stood over him for several she bent down, roughly poking him in the cheek.

"C'mon. Do something," she whined dejectedly.

Jaune grunted irritably at this stimulus, rolling his head away from Neon and regretting it immediately, his face wincing in pain as a hissed intake of breath could be heard. Neon sighed lightly, hooking Ghyslain onto her belt hook before reaching down and grabbing Jaune's right wrist, yanking him roughly to his wobbly feet.

"Come on, blondie. Let's go see how bad we did," she grumbled, seeming to dread her grade even in the face of a victory. Jaune bent stiffly down to pick up his sword, wincing at the lack of flexibility he now had in his neck and shoulders. Stowing his weapons on his baldric, Jaune lumbered after his opponent towards the hot seat, his shoulders hunched forward in seeming shame to the audience, though in fact, it was due to the rather intense amount of pain he was in. Neon instead elected to lazily trace a serpentine path with her skates, an easy, carefree smile on her face as she enjoyed the freedom of motion they allowed her. Shaw's scowl looked particularly upset, if Jaune had to guess, though from his vantage point, he couldn't be exactly sure.

"Don't hesitate to go to the infirmary if you need it, Arc," he warned before they began, a slight, if welcome, display of concern from the Combat Arts Professor. "Now then, who wants to go first?"

Jaune's gauntleted hand raised, shaking slightly. "I went to the well one too many times," he admitted without shame or fear.

"Correct. You had a good plan, until it wasn't. Never assume a trap is foolproof. The universe takes it personally, and will usually provide you with bigger and better fools in response," he added with a derisive flick of his good eye in Neon's direction. "Seventy-seven. If you're going to back yourself into a corner like that, you run a very high risk of your avenue of escape not working. Sometimes it's your only option, but don't do it often enough that the law of averages catches up with you."

"Yes, sir."

"And as for you, young lady," Shaw began, Neon's face cringing slightly at his tone. "You know damn well my view on showboating and playing around on the arena floor. I am also well aware of your view of the role of a Huntress in maintaining morale. There is a fine line between doing your job with style and being an annoying liability too focused on theatrics to get the job done. Your problem lies in the fact that you skate screaming past that line at almost every opportunity. If you hadn't been busy screwing around, you wouldn't have had to nearly take Mister Arc's head off to beat him. Brutally effective, but the match should never have come to that. Seventy. I expect more from you, Miss Katt. Keeping that tail of yours in check, for starters," he added offhandedly, the bright orange appendage flicking playfully about and betraying Neon's mood before it drooped at the rebuke.

"Yes. Sir." she managed to get out through grit teeth.

"Hit the showers," Shaw said dismissively, before catching the rest of the class as they began to rise, thinking class over for the day. "Not you people. Quick reminder, new pairs matches start next Thursday, so be prepared. Also, the Armory has asked me to remind you to put your tools back where they came from when you are done with maintenance. Those of you who don't have your own tool sets, I would highly recommend you rectify this. Your weapon will save your lives one day, and maintenance in the field isn't a luxury, it's a necessity. I do believe that's...strike that, Miss Nikos?"

"Sir?"

"Swing by my office at your earliest convenience, please," he said nonchalantly, the rumor mill already beginning to wonder what the Invincible Girl had done to earn the Professor's attention. "Class dismissed."

"Blake?" Yang began, a bit of worry in her voice audible over the commotion of their classmates shuffling out.

Her partner started, a rarity for Blake's normally calm demeanor.

"You okay there?"

"I...what do you mean?" she deflected.

"Well, you've been staring daggers at Shaw since the match ended, with that little kitty snarl on your lips like you wanna fuck someone up."

"It's just...telling a Faunus to ignore their trait?" she said, clearly taking offense.

"Maybe he was just looking at it like...she wasn't taking anything seriously, which, to be fair, she wasn't."

"Maybe," Blake allowed after a moment's pause, her anger cooling.

"Come on, kitty cat, we'll hit the library for a bit, give Neon a chance to shower and stuff before we meet up with her and her," Yang mock retched, "boyfriend."

"You had to remind me," Blake grumbled.

"Two weeks and it's all over. You'll be back to your gorgeous blonde bombshell in no time!" Yang said with a grin that managed to get a smile out of Blake in return.

"Yang?" Pyrrha asked, having waited for a lull in the conversation to interject.

"Whatcha got, Red?"

"If you see Ruby before I do, let her know I went to Professor Shaw's office?" she asked, Ruby's victory over Cardin having ended twenty minutes prior.

"She's gotta see Ozpin first, but sure thing. What did you do, you naughty girl?" Yang asked with a salacious grin.

"Nothing!" Pyrrha protested with a blush that lasted the two heartbeats necessary for her to remember who she was talking to. "I'm not sure, honestly."

"Oh, well. Can you do me a favor, Pyrrha?" Yang asked, her smile fading.

"What do you need?" she asked, shifting her small backpack over her shoulder.

"Pleeeeease work with her on her hand-to-hand? I keep trying, but she's gotten more stubborn this year. You're too nice for her to say no to."

"I don't know how to take that," Pyrrha said with a nervous chuckle.

"I'm not a good persuader," Yang admitted, getting a turn of the head and a raised eyebrow from Blake. "I mean, I can't threaten to pound Ruby to a pulp, so I'm kind of out of options. Besides, you're Squadmates!" Yang chirped with a saccharine smile, subtly reminding Pyrrha of her help with getting closer to Ruby and Jaune both.

"I'll see what I can do, then," Pyrrha said through a knowing smile.

"I owe you one, Red," Yang said, bumping fists with Pyrrha before she wandered off.

Ilia Amitola patiently observed her target through the eyeslits of her Grimm mask, though truthfully, she didn't need her resolve bolstered by the anonymity it provided. This wasn't a distasteful, but necessary, sacrifice for the cause.

Rather, this was removing a threat to Faunuskind, pure and simple.

The breeze blew through the treetop she was currently perched in, and Ilia shifted the coloration of her currently dark green skin to add dapples of yellow to mimic the sunlight coming through the leaves. Her eyes flicked left and right, checking her surroundings again. The wilderness park on the outskirts of Vale wasn't exactly busy, but it wasn't deserted either, and Adam had given her strict instructions to leave no witnesses.

Five minutes had passed since the couple walking their dog had passed by her target, a brief glance from the canine nearly blowing her cover before its owners led it further onward. She took a deep breath, releasing it as she extended her weapon, the rustling of leaves providing noise to mask the soft mechanical click. The next gust of wind would give her the audio cover she needed to strike, a vertical drop with a clear path to her target's heart already visualized in her mind's eye.

The single chirp of a cricket brought her up short, not just for its proximity, but the fact that it was only three in the afternoon. Risking a sidelong glance towards the tree trunk, Ilia's eyes went wide, a large mechanical grasshopper glowing a bright orange five feet to her left. Sheer reflex prompted her to act, a powerful leap to another branch a short distance away taken but not completed, the explosion behind her severing her erstwhile perch just as the one she'd hoped would save her shattered like glass, dropping her unceremoniously to the walking path below.

Before she could regain her bearings, a pair of hands grabbed her and tossed her back first into a bench, the edge of the seat clipping the back of her knees and forcing her to sit. A split second later, she felt the tip of a very slim blade under her chint forcing her gaze upwards as a heavy boot stepped onto her right wrist, keeping her weapon neutralized for the moment it took to be pried from her grasp. From the corner of her eye, Ilia watched in impotent rage as Mercury Black tossed her weapon into the brush behind her.

"I was wondering what you were waiting for, Miss Amitola," Arthur Watts said smoothly, sipping on his coffee from a slim stainless steel travel mug. "Though I will say, I was expecting Adam Taurus."

"Adam doesn't have time for filth like you," Ilia spat venomously, her voice shifting to a hiss as Neo forced her head back further still.

"Now, now, ladies. Let's be cordial at least."

Neo narrowed her eyes slightly, pink and brown cutting in Watts' direction for a moment.

"Remove the mask, less questions if someone wanders past," he said easily

"You'll never…" Ilia growled, her skin flushing bright red.

"Mercury," Arthur deadpanned, prompting his second bodyguard into action. Ilia blinked as she got the sun in her face without anything to screen it. "There, that's better. Now," he began, pausing briefly, "down to business. I'm guessing you're not pleased with my services so far."

Everyone present was surprised that Ilia could get even redder.

"You!" she spluttered angrily. "You gave them to the Hoods!?"

"Indeed. Useful idiots, when properly channeled."

"And what does that make the Faunus?" Ilia growled.

"Allies of convenience," Watts admitted nonchalantly, taking a sip from his coffee. "I see you're not on board with the idea yet, so allow me to explain why you're about to thank me."

"What?!" she hissed.

"Let me count the ways," he said, holding up two closed fists before counting off his points as he made them. "I cleanly removed serious security gap, in a manner that cannot be traced back to White Fang leadership, gave the Faunus of Vale a focal point of fear to rally against, an external threat for the White Fang to promise to remove, which will be accomplished with remarkable speed once their value to me has been exhausted, and thus increasing the White Fang's public support in the wake of the breach of Vale, including recruitment for your depleted ranks." Arthur Watts let his final point hang in the air for a few moments. "You're welcome."

Ilia's baleful gaze was still riveted on Watts as best she could manage, but he could see the gears turning behind them. Her lips remained closed, but he could see her jaw working overtime, either trying to come up with the words, or cutting them short. After several long moments, she recognized that the blade at her throat had been lowered slightly, allowing her to look him directly in the eye. She took a deep breath to steady herself before speaking.

"You'll hand them over?" she asked tersely.

"On a silver platter," Arthur replied with a smile.

"When?"

"The moment they've outlived their usefulness. Three months, probably less."

"And their 'usefulness' includes what, exactly?"

"You see, Mercury, I told you she was intelligent," Watts said, getting a grunt of acknowledgement from him before he shifted his gaze back to Ilia. "I've seen your test scores, young lady. You'd have made a fine chemist."

"You say that like I haven't," she fired back with a cocky smirk, the redness of her skin now almost gone.

"Hmm, indeed. Field expedient explosives do require a certain panache, I will admit," Watts graciously allowed her.

Ilia snorted softly at the compliment.

"And to answer your question, nothing which includes further threat to the Faunus, not at my behest at least." Watts gave her time to process before he continued. "Well, I think we've covered all we need to for the time being. If you'll be so kind as to deliver that to Adam Taurus," he said, cutting his gaze back to Mercury, who had produced a thumb drive from his pocket before he lifted his metal-shod boot from her wrist.

"What is it?" she asked, rubbing at her wrist.

"A request for information, nothing more."

Ilia eyed him suspiciously, taking the drive and pocketing it.

"I do believe you've got a bit of a treasure hunt to get to?" Watts said, getting a red flush from Ilia again at the reminder of just how easily she'd been taken down.

Neo stepped back, sheathing Hush into her parasol. Ilia bolted upright, tensed and ready to fight, but both Mercury and Neo simply treated her like a potential combatant rather than an active threat. Ilia's gaze flitted to her left then her right, getting a cocky smirk from Neo and a barely-more-than-a-grunt 'sup? from Mercury. Ilia flexed her Aura a little, executing a standing backflip to put the bench between herself and Watts' crew, relaxing slightly as she saw that they hadn't shifted their posture but had instead closed ranks on their boss.

"We'll be in touch," Watts stated simply, before reality shifted around the three of them. To lila's eyes, it looked like a mirror shattering in reverse, the shards of what was replaced by the park as it stood during most of the day.

Empty.

"This definitely isn't going to end well," she muttered before slipping into the underbrush to find her whip/rapier.

"Owwww," Jaune moaned for the fifth time in as many minutes, the current state of his neck not allowing him an easy sightline to his terminal.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to infirmary?" Velvet asked, deep concern in her voice.

"Just waiting for my Aura to finally fix this," Jaune answered, awkwardly twisting his torso enough to look her in the eye.

"It's been over an hour, Jaune."

"It just feels...stuck," he clarified, grimacing as he tried to crane his neck forward.

"Oh? Let me take a look."

"Huh?"

Velvet stood up from behind her desk, walking around to Jaune's side and leaning down to take a closer look. "You still need a haircut," she muttered, brushing his hair aside. "Crikey," she whispered in horror, Jaune wincing as her thumbs pressed gently against either side of his spine. "This is a mess."

"I hadn't noticed...ow," Jaune tried to snark.

Velvet's thumbs worked methodically upwards, from the base of his neck to his skull, applying alternating pressure to each side.

"C two through six, damn."

"What's that mean?"

"Your neck's badly out of alignment." Jaune's awkward posture prompted her to continue. "Mum's a chiropractor, taught me a little bit so I could adjust her when she needed it. Your Aura can't fix this."

"Why not?" Jaune grunted out.

"Nothing's actually broken, just twisted out of whack."

"Can you?" he asked hopefully.

"I can try," Velvet said, applying pressure further away from the spine, her thumbs moving in small circles to relax the supporting muscles, her other fingertips bracing along his collarbones. "I know, I know. Stop being a pansy," she gently rebuked him, hisses of pain getting through the stoic front he was trying to project. She kept at it for a few minutes, Jaune's soreness diminishing slightly but spreading from the singular point to become a dull ache that occupied the entirety of the back of his neck.

"What's she like?" Jaune asked, breaking the silence.

"I'd like to think my bedside manner is a little nicer," she replied with a chuckle.

"This can feel worse?" he groaned.

"Not really. I just don't tell you to stop being a pansy."

"But…"

"...as much," she continued. Even behind him, Jaune could tell from her tone she was smiling. "All right, just relax and let me do all the work."

"Okay," he said, giving a soft sigh and closing his eyes before he heard something flop onto his desk. His eyes flicked open, quickly identifying Velvet's school uniform jacket laying there before closing again, trying to center himself.

This was going to hurt.

Velvet placed her hands gently on either side of his head, slowly twisting one way then the other, getting an idea of his range of motion from Jaune's hisses of pain. She finally held it twisted to one side, shifting her grip and bracing the side opposite both her hands against something soft. Jaune briefly wondered what it was before she again manipulated his head, drawing a whimper out of him.

"Okay, deep breath, and exhale," she said before Jaune's vision turned white, almost blotting out the sound of a wet crunch as she yanked in, up, and sideways in a single motion.

"OOOoowwwhohoho," he shouted, trailing off into a whimper.

"One more," Velvet reassured him, deftly switching sides.

A second, wrenching tug later, Jaune gave a drawn-out groan, slowly devolving into a near purr as endorphins kicked in on top of the pain being reduced to simple muscle soreness.

"Better?" she asked, the fingers of her right hand slowly checking his spine and massaging the underlying muscles.

"Mmmmm, that feels so nice, Velv," Jaune said with a sigh, followed by a pair of gasps from the direction of the open office door.

Jaune's eyes flicked open, his right spotting a shocked Ruby and Pyrrha, and his left obstructed by something white and...fluffy?

He pulled back a bit, turning to identify the obstruction, his gaze now resting firmly in the center of Velvet's bust, three inches from his nose. Jaune blinked once before leaping up and back out of his chair, stumbling and flipping backward, catching his head on the edge of his desk before he crashed into a heap on the floor. "Ow," he muttered, inadvertently hiding his crimson face by cradling his newly-injured head in his arms.

Velvet was taken aback by the sudden turn of events, needing a moment to process things before she saw the look of shock and near betrayal on the newcomers' faces directed at them both. "Sorry, you must've startled 'im. I was just adjusting his neck," she explained, blushing a little herself at the embarrassing situation.

"Is that what you're calling it now?" Ruby muttered, surprising the other girls present.

"Can I help you ladies with something?" Velvet asked with a professional smile, plucking her jacket from Jaune's desk and putting it back on.

"I...Professor Shaw wanted to see me," Pyrrha managed to get out, her professional demeanor quickly winning out over her conflicted emotions.

"Right. Professor…?" she began to call through the half-open door.

"Send her in," came the booming reply.

"I guess he's expecting you then," Velvet muttered, still not quite used to Shaw's seeming prescience.

Pyrrha moved forward, stopping to help Jaune to his feet before gently pulling his hands aside and brushing through his hair to assess the damage. "Aura should fix that in a few minutes, Jaune," she said at last with a warm smile.

"Thanks, Pyr," Jaune said abashedly.

"While we're young, Miss Nikos."

"Be right back, Jaune," she said before ducking into the office, the door closing a moment later.

Velvet and Jaune both settled back into their seats, Ruby walking over and hopping up to take a seat on Jaune's desk, interposing herself between him and his work. Jaune dismissed it as coincidence that she sat in his sightline to Velvet as well.

"So, me and Pyrrha are gonna catch an early dinner and then go work on our teamwork for next week."

"No comic night?" Jaune said with a hint of disappointment.

"She's riding me hard," Ruby said with a sigh, her head hung in exhaustion.

"Heh, I know the feeling."

"How are you feeling, by the way?" Velvet interjected from the other side of their desks.

Jaune twisted his neck left and right, grimacing at the residual soreness and an unmistakable, gritty feeling in the joints.

"Not great, but a lot better. Thanks, Velv."

"No problem," she replied with a smile before pulling up yet another homework assignment to grade.

"She's an awesome partner, Ruby. You guys are gonna smash whoever you're up against."

"And I'm chopped liver?" Velvet asked, her eyebrow cocked in bemusement.

"Iiiiii never said that," Jaune backpedaled.

"Shyea, me and Pyrrha would totally stomp you guys," Ruby blustered, garnering a smirk from Velvet that was equal measures irritation and determination.

"Hands up everyone who won their first day matches," Jaune countered, raising his hand, immediately followed by a smugly grinning Velvet.

"You still lied to me," Ruby muttered, looking away so he couldn't see her pout.

"Hey, I just kept my capabilities hidden for tactical reasons. Just like Sensei taught me. Just like you didn't do," he reminded her.

"Liiiiiied," she whisper-hissed, getting a chuckle out of Jaune.

The inner office door opened again before he could counter her assertion, Pyrrha backing out of the office while a long, narrow box dangled from one hand. Six inches deep, ten wide, and just over three feet long, the box dangled from a thick leather handle, richly-grained walnut highlighted with polished brass hardware. "Thank you so much, Professor," she said in what Jaune recognized as her genuine voice, the one usually only reserved for the two sister teams of JNPR and RWBY. Shaw's reply could be heard, but not understood by the others in the room. She closed the door again, turning to face them and showing a warm smile that drew notice from Jaune, Ruby, and Velvet alike.

"What's in the box, Pyr?" Jaune asked innocently enough.

"It's…" she began.

"Nothing!" Ruby interrupted.

"But…" Jaune protested.

"I don't want my partner to give away a 'tactical advantage'," Ruby quickly justified, complete with air quotes. "Never know who we're gonna face in class next week."

Jaune didn't have an answer for that, and he gave Ruby a bemused smirk for using his own argument against him, which she returned with a silently blown raspberry.

"She does have a point, Jaune," Pyrrha added conspiratorially.

"Fine. Keep your secrets," he replied with a roll of the eyes.

Pyrrha's gentle titter of laughter eased the tension, the filigree chains of her tiara swaying gently for a moment.

"I do think we need to change up our plans for the evening, though," she then said.

"Comics night?" Ruby asked hopefully.

"Not exactly. We…" she began, stopping herself as Ruby's words came to mind again. She leaned across the desk to whisper in Ruby's ear, even going so far as to use her hand to shield her lips from prying eyes as she spoke.

Ruby's silver eyes flew wide, an excited gasp escaping her lips as she dropped off the desk and turned to face Pyrrha.

"You… want me to…" she trailed off, barely capable of forming words it seemed.

"Yes," Pyrrha replied simply, highly amused at Ruby's reaction.

"Ohmygoshthisigonnabesoawesomeyou'renotgonnaregretitcomeonweneedtogetgoingbyeJaune!" Ruby exclaimed, grabbing Pyrrha by the elbow and tugging her toward the door for the split second necessary for her Semblance to fully power up, the two of them disappearing in a burst of black and red rose petals that trailed through the open outer door.

"What was that about?" Velvet queried.

"Knowing Ruby, it's either cookies or weapons."

"Cute little weirdo, in't she?"

"Heh, yeah," Jaune said, unable to keep a smile off his face. With a start, he realized Velvet was staring at him with a skeptically raised eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing," she replied with a knowing smile.

"I mean, I don't even know if she's into girls, or guys for that matter, if that's what you're wondering."

"Wait, what?"

"You're the one who called her cute."

"You agreed."

"Still."

Velvet cocked her head to the side, her ears flopping a bit as she contemplated a retort.

"We should get back to work," she finally said, trying to defuse the situation without either of them having to answer awkward questions.

"Back to work," Jaune agreed.

"Get out of here," Shaw pronounced from the now open door.

"Sir?" they both replied.

"You're far enough ahead that you can afford to take the hint from your partner, Jaune. Grab some chow and get some practice in, the both of you."

"We'd been meaning to…" Jaune began.

"...procrastinate because you had an excuse. I'm removing it," Shaw finished for him.

"Yes, sir," he said in a defeated voice, nowhere near brave enough to contradict the man.

"Practice room twelve is open, annnnd reserved," Velvet added helpfully, lightning fast with the Academy network.

"Sounds like a plan," he said, still unsure how he and Velvet would mesh on the battlefield, despite having thought about it extensively since their assignments had been made known. "Miss Scarlatina?" he asked with a posh accent, offering a hand up for his coworker. Velvet accepted it with an exaggeratedly dainty gesture.

"Why thank you, Mister Arc," she replied with a similar voice, playing along with the joke.

Shaw ushered them both out of the office, closing the door behind them and locking it, in spite of his set hours. His organic eye slowly closed as he let out a sigh, white-gloved fingers rubbing at his temples. "Even I was never this dense," he muttered.

Dinner had been a brief affair, and early enough that Ruby had designated the timeframe "lupper" in the same vein as "brunch". Having scarfed down enough cookies to keep her blood sugar up for the rest of the week, Ruby had begrudgingly partaken of spanakopita at Pyrrha's prompting, pronouncing the dish "pretty good" when asked.

She'd also (barely) managed to keep her rabid curiosity in check, reminded twice by Pyrrha of her decision to keep the contents of the case under wraps as much as possible. This had been difficult, but her patience was about to be rewarded.

The bench they had picked sat at the left end of the ten bay firing line at Beacon's rifle range, Ruby's lucky lane, she said. Upon further prompting, she admitted that getting pelted by ejected brass from other shooters was also a factor in her choice. Pyrrha set down her case after Ruby had brushed off the stray brass, a pair of latches easily popping open with a simple flick of the thumb. Ruby had to stop herself from opening the case herself, the anticipation killing her.

"You really are excited about this, aren't you?"

"Oh my gosh, Pyrrha, you have no idea! Come on! Lemme see! Lemme see!" she nearly whined in her excitement.

Pyrrha's black-gloved hands clasped each other, settling her own nerves before placing a finger at each corner of the lid and slowly opening it, a soft gasp escaping her lips at the sheer beauty of what had finally arrived.

Not that you could hear it over Ruby's own awed gasp.

"It's…beautiful," Ruby said reverently.

"Very," Pyrrha agreed.

A long rifle, a breakdown mechanism allowing the barrel to fold back over the receiver for ease of stowage, was nestled into a clearly bespoke case lined in green velvet. A skeleton stock that showed evidence of mecha-shift capability was collapsed along the underside of the weapon. The shell was largely gleaming bronze, with crimson highlights, both colors perfectly matched to Miló and Akoúo̱, which were currently secured on her back harness. The ensemble was completed by a dozen en bloc clips containing six rounds each, everything polished to a degree that spoke to professional pride, taking the effort for something that was clearly expendable.

Pyrrha plucked the rifle from its place first, experimentally hefting a substantially larger weapon than she was used to. One button press released the stock into its deployed position, a second allowed her to fold the barrel assembly back into position, a quick pull and twist locking the interrupted threads into the receiver. She racked the charging handle, locking the bolt to the rear on an empty magazine that she visually inspected, turning the weapon to Ruby's gaze to verify that it was, indeed, a clear weapon.

The hardlight reflex sight was easy to acquire once it flickered to life, the silhouette target of a Beowulf at a hundred yards providing an excellent aiming point. A flick of a thumb switch deployed a sizable optical scope with an armored shroud on top, the reflex sight perched atop it. Pyrrha shifted her aim further downrange and looked through the scope. The black bullseye at five hundred yards was easy to find, and the numbers denoting the scoring areas were clear as day.

"What's her name?" Ruby asked, silver eyes darting over every magnificent square inch.

Pyrrha flinched softly.

"Sorry, you…I'd kind of forgotten you were there, if I'm being honest." Seeing Ruby's expression falter, she hastily amended herself. "Concentrating with an entirely new weapon, sorry."

Ruby briefly cocked her head to the side with a smirk and raised eyebrows, conceding the point.

"And it's Nomízo."

"Huh?"

"Akoúo̱, Nomízo, Miló. Listen, think, speak." Pyrrha explained simply. Seeing her new partner's blank expression, she again continued. "The three pillars of discourse, first put forth by the philosopher Plutarkos of Minossos."

"Ohhhh," Ruby said softly.

"It's a small island city-state off the west coast of Mistral."

"I knew that," Ruby replied sullenly.

Pyrrha smiled softly rather than gainsay her friend.

"6.5 by 55? That's a Ljungmann action, right? Direct gas impingement is kind of rare."

"Yes, all of it. I didn't expect this to be ready until next Summer," Pyrrha said, smiling at Ruby's enthusiasm.

"Wow, that's a long wait."

Pyrrha hummed in agreement. "This was a prize for my first tournament win, actually."

"Wait, that was what, five years ago?"

"Yes," she replied.

"That's a really long wait."

"Well, I didn't finalize the design until I was finished at Sanctum," Pyrrha explained. "I knew I wanted something with more range than 'the other side of the arena'."

"Still a long wait."

"Welll," Pyrrha said, blushing at the notion of her privilege, her eyes cutting over to the engraved brass data plate set into the green velvet.

Ruby's gaze followed hers, her eyes going wider than Pyrrha had ever seen on her as a long gasp escaped her gaping mouth.

"Waffenfabrik Sturmhammer von Atlas…" she softly read aloud. "No way, this is a WSA Signature line limited edition?!"

"Not exactly."

"But they don't do the full presentation box deal with anything else except…This is a CUSTOM!?"

"Mm-hmm," Pyrrha hummed, Ruby's frantic energy needing measured release.

"Oh my gosh, Weiss is gonna have a cow! She's always so proud of Myrtenaster being one of a kind, even if she didn't build her," Ruby muttered in disapproval. "Oh well, guess there are two WSA customs in Beacon now."

"Seven, actually," Pyrrha corrected her, Ruby's silver eyes darting about as she tried to take mental inventory of every weapon among the student body that she knew of before giving up for now.

"So who designed her? Schmeisser? Stoltz? No, his first name doesn't start with an 'a'," she trailed off. "I can't read this signature."

"This is actually an Alastair Shaw original."

Ruby blinked as she turned to face Pyrrha, pondering momentarily before she gave off a gigglesnort. "Shyea, as if."

"And why do you say that?"

"Pyrrha, Alastair Shaw is basically a myth. A crazy old hermit living in the middle of nowhere who'll shoot you as soon as look at you. "

"He was quite hospitable, actually."

"You actually met him?"

"Had to speak with him face to face so that he could build this."

"That is soooo cool. Is he one of those filthy hobos that have a bird's nest in their beard?"

"I don't think his wife would like that."

"He's got a family?"

"Ruby?" Pyrrha interjected, an embarrassed grimace on her face as she nodded back towards the main campus.

Ruby looked confused for a moment before it dawned on her. "No," she said in disbelief. Pyrrha simply nodded. Her lips moved silently as she counted on her fingers for a moment. "The Chorus!" she whisper-hissed. "I soooo wanna get a good look at them. I mean, not like I didn't before, but... And Nomizzo, too!" she quickly corrected herself, remembering her present company.

"Nomízo," she corrected gently.

"Nomízo," Ruby repeated, her embarrassment largely mitigated by Pyrrha's warm presence. "Don't get me wrong, I love Crescent Rose," she said, patting the aforementioned weapon reassuringly, "but that is a thing of beauty."

"Happy birthday to me, I suppose."

"It's your birthday?!"

"Tomorrow, actually."

"Oh, no! I don't even know what to get you!"

"It's fine, I promise."

Ruby sighed, disappointment clearly written on her face.

Stepping forward onto the grass, Pyrrha pressed the scope release button again, the optic dropping back into its hiding place. She moved her strong hand up, over the top of the rifle, thumb and middle finger finding the two textured release buttons easily. A quick flick of the forearm threw the weapon forward and then back along its axis, a large, wickedly sharp spear point now covering the muzzle, eighteen inches long, while the stock unfolded and extended, transforming the rifle into a polearm-sized spear eight feet long.

While Miló was a precise, quick instrument of Grimm destruction while in its spear form, this was a massive lance suited to much heavier targets. Pyrrha gave a few experimental slashes and thrusts with her new weapon, losing none of her preternatural agility or precision in spite of the additional weight. She came back to a guard position, pausing for a moment as she replayed the sequence in her head, finding nothing amiss. She then shifted the weapon back to its rifle form, cradling a literal work of art in her hands with the full respect it deserved.

"So where do I start? I've never used optics before," she admitted.

"Zeroing? Benchrest, but don't get too comfortable with that. You want to practice like you fight."

Pyrrha hummed in acknowledgement, taking a seat, flicking her sash to the side with a hand before she sat on it. Ruby bent down and grabbed a sandbag, flopping it onto the table in front of Pyrrha with a heavy thud. She then pulled a spotting scope from the range bag she'd grabbed from her locker, quickly fixing it to a small collapsible tripod and adjusting it to get herself on target.

"Okay, load up and let's get a three round group on the bullseye. Don't worry about adjusting anything yet. Hold dead center, five hundred yards should still be on paper no matter what," Ruby reassured her. "And your breathing control is even more important through a scope, don't forget it," she added, passing Pyrrha a pair of earmuffs.

"I'll try not to disappoint you, Sensei," Pyrrha joked easily, Jaune's mention of the man on at least a daily basis searing the word into her vocabulary. She opened the action once again, taking a clip from the box and shoving it home with her thumb. The bolt hold-open flicked close under her right thumb, a satisfying clack heard as the bolt went home, loading a round.

"Fire when ready," Ruby instructed, looking at Pyrrha's form for now.

Pyrrha rested the forend of Nomízo on the sandbag, pulling the buttstock into her shoulder and leaning forward, her eye peering through the scope. She exhaled slowly, drawing back the single-stage trigger with exactly three point two pounds of force once she hit the natural pause in her breathing. Nomízo jumped slightly, a side ported muzzle brake reducing the recoil significantly, the sharp report echoing across the open rifle range. Two more shots followed soon after, Pyrrha coming off the scope and thumbing the safety on.

"I can't tell, where am I?" she asked, Ruby already peering through the spotting scope.

"I've got one round six inches left exactly at nine o'clock. Where were you holding?"

"Dead center, and just one?"

"Yeah, I can't see where the other two went."

"That's not promising," Pyrrha said, clearly worried.

Ruby's head came back from the spotting scope, her expression clearly puzzled for a moment before she looked again. "That can't be right," she muttered. "Cold range!" she shouted just in case someone was in another lane that they hadn't noticed. "Be right back," she said before a burst of rose petals rocketed downrange, stopping in front of the target in the one lane adjacent to them. Pyrrha could see her looking at that target before stepping over to the one she had been shooting at. Several seconds later, Ruby was back, pulling her Scroll from a well-concealed pocket and showing Pyrrha the picture she'd taken.

"This is unreal," she said in an awestruck whisper.

"What is it?"

The picture showed her slender thumb pressed against the black target, presumably for scale, directly above a bullet hole. Pyrrha's eyes narrowed, and Ruby pinch-zoomed the picture until her thumb was the size of small lime on the screen. Instead of a perfectly circular hole, there was a ragged, vaguely triangular opening through the paper and the cardboard backing.

"Oh my," Pyrrha said in wide-eyed wonder.

"That's at five hundred yards, Pyrrha."

"Four hundred ninety-eight point seven, actually."

"Huh?"

"There's a rangefinder that automatically adjusts the reticle for range."

Ruby gave her a flat-eyed gaze.

"That's cheating," she said, unamused.

Pyrrha smirked.

"So you don't want to shoot it? For science?"

"I never said that," she mumbled in reply.

"You never said otherwise."

Ruby's face was a war of emotions, her eyes flitting back and forth between a bemused Pyrrha and gleaming Nomízo.

"Weeellllllll, if it's for science," she began, getting a soft chuckle from Pyrrha, Ruby's own smile showing again at being properly indulged by her friend.

Jaune stepped into the practice room, much smaller than the main combat arena, a trio of benches along the far wall allowing for those utilizing the facility to take a break or for spectators and mentors to have a seat. Velvet was already seated there, in her full combat dress with her weapon and a duffel very similar to Ruby's range bag. Her attention was on Anesidora in her lap until she realized he'd arrived.

"Hey," she said simply.

"Okay, so I've been thinking about this a lot since the assignments came out, and I'm still trying to figure out where we can get some partner chemistry going," he said as he walked towards her

"Your fighting style is pretty standard sword and board, really," she began, "No offense."

"None taken, but that's not all of it."

"Oh? Show me what you've got then."

Jaune stepped into the center of the room, drawing Crocea Corax and fixing his shield to his left forearm as he walked, pausing a moment to set himself. A deep breath taken and exhaled, he began moving quickly though several practice forms, chaining together swings, thrusts, parries and movement into a cohesive attack. Velvet watched attentively, her brain already imprinting his slow, methodical combat style in deep memory, ready to be called forth by her Semblance if needed.

Indeed, there was little she hadn't seen before, either in tournament footage, or from her classmates at Pharos, but that changed the second Jaune extended his sword. The supplement to this was Jaune's shield collapsing again before darting up to the attachment point on his left rerebrace, the shield/scabbard now in line with his upper arm. It now protruded six inches below and above the ends of the humerus, the top acting as supplemental armor to protect his neck and head. His left hand now unlimbered, and a defensive mindset seemingly abandoned, Jaune's movements were now broad, sweeping affairs, his mobility much greater than when he was turtling behind a shield. The slits in his sword blade gave a high-pitched whistle with each swing, especially with both hands on the extended hilt, though a lot of strokes were closer in, Jaune's gauntleted left hand grasping the blade a couple feet from the hilt to work shorter ranged, quicker attacks. One final, sweeping strike later, Jaune stopped, holding steady for a moment before he relaxed, collapsing his weapon suite back down to its stowed forms on his belt.

"Not bad. Hard to get that much versatility out of just a sword, really, but that's an excellent design."

"That's high praise coming from you, Velvet. Guy who built it is really good," he said, flicking the feathered braid dangling from his pommel gently.

"Hmm, lemme see here," she began, opening a hardshell plastic case in the duffel bag at her feet. Forty openings were cut into the dense foam cushioning, most of which filled with what looked like a battery pack of some sort; black with a small, handwritten label on the end of each one.

"What are those," Jaune asked with genuine curiosity.

"They're the heart of Anesidora Mark II."

"Batteries? Dust reservoirs?" he pondered.

Velvet plucked one from the carrying case and handed it to him. It was almost as dense as a chemical battery, one by two by eight inches, with a ruggedized multi-pin connector on the opposite end of the label.

"Myrtenaster?" Jaune said, quirking an eyebrow.

"I used to be able to rely on just the interior memory of my camera to create my projections, but they were fragile and unstable because the mapping software was only a prototype."

"I…I'm not following you, Velv."

"Have you never seen me use my weapon?"

"Not that I can remember."

She hmmphed in mild surprise, plucking the module from Jaune's fingers. She then undid four heavy duty locking clasps on the top of her weapon, flipping open a lid to reveal another seven of these modules locked into the eight available sockets, sliding the new piece into place with a satisfying thunk as it locked into place. "I suppose that's because I barely used it my first two years. Mostly because of the stability problem."

Velvet closed the lid and locked it into place before standing and securing the lunchbox-sized device on her belt behind her. She tapped at the back of her left wrist, roughly where one would wear a wristwatch, a concealed hardlight display flaring to life with a graphical interface. Velvet selected one of the presented options with another tap, a clack heard as a small hatch opened on the right side of Anesidora, a metal rod popping out several inches, its surface textured for maximum grip. Velvet's right hand quickly pulled it free, holding it for Jaune to see for a moment before she activated the button underneath her thumb.

Jaune's eyes went wide as a faint crackling noise preceded the rapid construction of a wireframe replica of Weiss' signature weapon, meticulously accurate down to every flourish of the engraving. Unable to stop his curiosity, he pulled off his right gauntlet and gently tapped the tip of the faux Myrtenaster.

"Sharp as the original, that's for sure."

"There's a lot more data going into it now. I need more pictures, or better yet, video, to get the construct stable, but they're more or less permanent unless I run out of Dust."

"Hardlight?"

"And gravity Dust, yeah. Need it to put weight behind my strikes, especially anything big."

"So you can copy anything?"

"Just about, yeah," she replied, the weapon flickering out of existence before she shoved it home. A couple taps on her bracer later, Velvet again drew the rod hilt, the lines of Nora's beloved Magnhild materializing after a moment.

"That's almost cheating," he gently chided.

"Says the guy who hid a sword inside a sword," Velvet replied with a smirk.

"You've been talking to Ruby again, haven't you?"

"She's a nice girl, why wouldn't I?"

Jaune pursed his lips for a moment.

"Yeah, I got nothin'."

Velvet hummed softly in victory, a faint smile on her lips.

"So how many styles have you trained in? Must be hard picking the weapons to fit what you know."

"I don't have to."

"Huh?" Jaune said, blinking in confusion.

"Semblance."

"Oh. I wonder how that would work," Jaune mused.

"I can mimic the styles and movements of anyone I've seen in action, the more the better. It's like...seeing someone just out of the corner of your eye, but still in perfect focus. I just follow along and go with the flow."

"What? Oh! No, I was wondering how your Semblance would combine with mine."

"I thought your Semblance was healing?"

"Well, yes, but it's more than that. I amplify an unlocked Aura. It gets a little weird when it starts interacting with other Semblances. Hit and miss, really."

"All right, now I'm wondering too," she said, her head tilting a bit and flopping her rabbit ears to one side.

Jaune shrugged.

"Only one way to find out."

Velvet blinked once before a mischievous, conspiratorial smile bloomed on her face, one that Jaune couldn't help but mirror a second later.

This was going to be fun.

AN:

Merry Christmas, to you and yours!

For those wanting a better idea of what Nomízo looks like, look up Dishwasher1910's RWBY3.0 Pyrrha concept. Like she said, her current carbine is great in arena fights where your opponent is never too far away, but not the optimal solution for fighting Grimm in the field.