I'm looking for editors by the way, so if you think you can help improve the quality of the story and want to decrease the time between updates, feel free to message me.

I'm also posting this story on Space Battles. com, feel free to look it up there since I'm more active in the comments section over there.


The soft pads of shoes and the mechanical whirr of robotic limbs filled the empty hallway as they headed back towards the office. At the head of the group, Mr. S drank in the silence as he anxiously awaited the stream of yelling, panic and bad news he'd grown accustomed to, the silence teasing at him as he tensed and seemed to hold his breath endlessly, just waiting for the first complaint.

He caught himself about to stumble, his footing suddenly unsure as a deep exhaustion soaked into his body, all of this compounded with a sudden dour note that rung about in his brain.

Far too quickly, he felt his patience withering under the pressure. Claustrophobia set in under the now stifling warmth of the building, unable to gather his thoughts as he readied to turn away any accusation even as the primary focus of his thoughts lay in pointless agonizing about the moon.

In either case, despite every rational thought and reason that told him otherwise, he felt the instinct to act. He had to do something after all, especially in the increasingly hounding weight of responsibility he'd put upon himself as a leader.

At once he focused himself on this goal once more, using every ounce of will he could muster to draw his thoughts away from the hanging reality of the moon as he tried to figure out what to do.

Instantly, his mind looked back to every archetype of a leader he could recall, and, thinking on it for a moment, as he bathed in the depressed silence that came in from every direction, he knew...it was time to make an epic speech.

Of course, he wasn't under any impression that a speech would fix everything, hence why he knew he had to make an epic speech. Not a mere recitation of hollow words, but the profoundest expression of the purest articles that make up the heart. A speech who's rhetoric was ordained by the essense of the soul, and all the more powerful for it. A speech who's words carried the power to uplift the fallen, mend wounded spirits, and end racism. This form of epic speech, Mr. S had never seen outside of battlefields and the third acts of football movies, but he knew it was the speech he needed to give right now.

Bracing himself he turned slightly to the side to see team RWBY pacing behind him, all with neutral expressions as Blake and Weiss walked along, almost dazed as their partners helped to almost push them along.

"So…" he began, nothing coming to mind other than the thought that 'So,' was a terrible way to begin a speech, "good job team, great job out there," he rushed through, quickly turning back to hide his cringing expression.

'Genius, absolutely Genius.'

Surprisingly, this didn't elicit a response from Weiss, which he elected to take as good news, even as the continual silence set an ominous tone in the air.

"If I may be so bold, sir," Schwarz tentatively breached the silence after a moment, "was it wise to say what you said about Blake's departure from the white fang?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Mr. S replied.

"Well, it was...untrue, sir," Schwarz said.

"Lying is ok when it's beneficial, Schwarz," Mr. S explained, circling his hand up as he did so.

"No- I just mean, it might be troublesome since the white fang now has a means of disproving you and hurting your image," Schwarz said, politely omitting a "further" from her sentence.

"I doubt they have the means," he answered easily, "they can deny what I said, yes, but providing proof is another matter considering that they aren't renowned for their internal record keeping; even if they were, their files aren't exactly available for auditing, so any proof they present will be exactly as verifiable as what they wrote on toilet paper yesterday," he said, feeling a lightness come over his chest as he finally had the chance to explain his reasoning, drawing comfort from that familiar act and structure, as well as the surety it seemed to give his actions.

"Ok, ok, wait," Weiss interrupted, shaking her head as if clearing something off of it as she strode ahead to match Mr. S in the hallway, the rest of RWBY following behind her as if tied to her with a rubber band. "You're telling me that you actually planned this? That what you did on that stage was the result of rational thought? That you aren't planning to admit to some heretofore unknown drug addiction scandal and take back what you've just said?" Weiss clarified, a steady tension in her voice.

"You seem upset," Mr. S analyzed.

"Guh! Bah! Wha! Geehuhh!..." Wess clenched her fists as the distilled unamusement of many a lady before her seemed to express itself in her tiny body.

Weiss calmed, almost instantly, as Blake's hand reached to touch her own, saying "Yes, we're upset," as Weiss nodded in agreement, electing to focus on her breathing exercises rather than waste any more breath yelling.

'Breath in...and out,' Weiss recited mentally, focusing herself. She could remain calm, by getting angry she was only truly hurting herself.

'There!' She thought, preparing herself as she readied to stand impassive before even the worst condescensions and lies her father could muster.

"Well, is there anything I could do to help you feel better?" Mr. S asked in a genuine tone, knowing that he was supposed to be Hitler, but electing to default to his own personality for the time being.

"Huhhhh," Weiss inhaled, exhaling, "fwhooooo," as she closed her eyes and a shudder of rage ran up her body. Blake, for her part, valiantly held off the looks of agony as Weiss's hand suddenly turned into a vice grip around her own.

"No," Weiss answered after a moment to collect herself.

And then, there was a calm. Not merely a silence, but an understanding truce between both sides that nothing would be gained from arguing any longer.

Of course, Mr. S, despite his wearied state, had to help make it better.

"Are you sure?" He asked. "I mean, the Faunus Outreach Committee seemed-"

"Are you serious!" Weiss shouted, taking a slight pause to mentally organize all her complaints. "Not only do you decide to risk everything and put us in the spotlight, you thought it was a great idea to stir up the other families against us like this? I mean, none of this even helps you!? You could literally have disappointed me less by doing nothing, but you put in the work! And what do you think you're doing trying to stick Blake as the head of the Faunus Outreach Committee?" She gestured with a hand towards Blake. "What even is the Faunus Outreach Committee!?" Weiss yelled, abruptly stopping as she took the grammar mistake as a sign that she'd gone too far before quickly returning to her less than calm breathing exercises.

"Well...Mr. S fell back, still stinging from the tirade as he scrambled to explain himself, "Ideally, It's meant to be a Committee that," he paused a moment, thinking, "reaches...out...to the Faunus community."

For a brief moment, Weiss felt her heart stop, but Blake took that moment to fill in.

"I won't be joining your Committee," she threw back, keeping Weiss's attention on her. "And there's no such thing as a 'Faunus Community', we're a diverse group with our own traditions."

"See, that's one stereotype corrected already, you're a natural for this job," Mr. S threw back cheerfully, still unable to unscramble the day's events as they rushed to flood into his addled mind.

"I said I'm not taking the job," Blake replied, regaining her confidence as the fears of arrest grew distant with time and hazy against all that had taken place since.

"Oh, that's just nerves talking," Mr. S said, having run out of the mental energy to reply with anything other than stock phrases and repetecious wording.

"No, It's not," Blake said with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, then I suppose you'd be able to provide a reason as to you wouldn't want to head to committee?" Mr. S said, asking as if he'd just won a court case with that argument.

"Because I don't want to work for someone like you," Blake said, almost questioning herself even through the direct tone of her sentence.

"Well, don't think of it so much as 'working for me' then as much as…" he took a moment, "a third party advisory role in exchange for payment."

"I don't want your money," Blake said.

"Well, don't think of it as 'getting paid' then as much as...gaining the ability to direct funds towards worthy causes, among other benefits."

"What benefit could I get by working with you?" Blake asked, curious as to what the answer would be, even as she understood that she'd never understand it.

"Well, despite my speech, I'm sure that a large portion of the world still connects you with the White Fang," he said with a dry tone, "and doing some good, even with me as an affiliate, will help you to distance yourself from that image."

"And what 'good', would I be doing exactly?" She asked, surprising herself with the not too-insignificant level of curiosity she'd held behind that question, the feeling made all the stranger as a sudden awareness that she was holding a conversation with Mr. Schnee came over her.

It wasn't any strangeness in the conversation that surprised her, rather it was the relative normalcy of it considering who she was talking too. Most likely, as she would later analyze, this feeling was due to the fact that despite all her imagenings about the fall of the SDC, and her occasional musings about the mad cackle parties it's head must've held, she'd never imagined him...talking, to her or anyone for that matter.

Mr. S, to his credit, was quick to answer her question. "Well, you'd know what to do better than I, wouldn't you? I mean, you certainly have more than a passing interest in the welfare of Faunus kind."

"If you're so eager to do 'good', then why not hire someone more qualified? Why ask me? I'm a student and I'm focused on being a huntress," Blake asked, tentative curiosity blooming as every exchange seemed intensely more interesting than the last.

"Blake, it's a committee," he pointed out with a half chuckle as he remembered his own experiences, "you're not expected to do actual work."

"So it's a sham," Blake observed as everything suddenly fell into place, not feeling so much disappointed as...vindicated? Although there was a strange hollowness to the feeling.

"If that's what you choose to make of it," he answered smoothly. "It's up to you, in the end, if it ends up being a bunch of tea parties or if it becomes something you're proud to look back on."

"So, I'd have actual power as the head of this organization," Blake said, still reeling from the whiplash of this conversation. It didn't seem like he was playing a joke, so it still demanded her attention, if only to figure out what it was he was scheming for.

"Yes," He replied with a sure certainty.

Blake for her part, didn't react beyond a bewildered blink. "And I'd have complete independence from the SDC?" She asked, a soft intensity to her voice, only held back from getting closer to Mr. S by the fact that Weiss walked in between them, giving the occasional curious glance to Blake as Ruby and Yang silently watched the exchange like it was a tennis match.

"Well…" Mr. S said with a hesitant voice. He was trying to do the right thing, and this was the best plan he'd come up with in whatever time he'd had, but he wasn't ready to give a complete stranger that much power, no matter how tragic a backstory she had.

"Nevermind," Blake said with a superior smile, even as a dour tone weighed on her voice. "I won't be taking the job, so don't strain yourself," she said before Weiss's eyes shined at the sight ahead and she gripped Blake's hand harder before leading her team ahead towards the office door that shone out at them.

Mr. S watched as the team strode ahead, watching as Weiss whispered sternly to the rest of the group, coaching them about something perhaps.

Schwarz only kept her pace, working furiously at her scroll as she thought through every reason why Mr. Schnee would have done what he did, every reason why his actions made sense, and only felt deeper guilt and uncertainty when she couldn't come up with a single one.

Taking her breath, she opened her mouth to question, but, after a thought, merely held her silent frustration as she reprimanded herself for her public questioning, even as her heart fell at the apparent senselessness of the answers she'd been given.

Mr. S stepped through the softly flowing air and into his office, fully appreciating the warm, yellow light that filled it as he walked in. Quickly, he noticed the semi-circle of chairs that curved around the front of his desk as well as the figures that sat in them, staring at him.

Ozpin, Glynda and Qrow sat in the leftmost chairs, while RWBY sat in formation on the opposite side, looking exhausted. Winter stood in the left corner as she, like everyone else in the room, stared at him.

Mr. S walked past the gap in between Ruby and Qrow, followed by Schwarz as he turned in front of his desk and looked back at the group of people before him. Schwarz stood beside him, placing her scroll away before looking back up to stare at him.

Mr. S, after a brief period of thought, realized that everyone was staring at him.

His first instinct, one which he barely held back, was to look out at the staring crowd and say 'What?' in as casual a way as possible.

Instead, he looked out at the gathered throng and said, "Yes?" in as unceremonious a fashion as possible.

There was a pause as everyone waited. Team RWBY, for their part, merely leaned back against their chairs with various looks of exhaustion and self pity.

"I am shocked and surprised," Qrow said, breaking the silence.

"Well, that's getting rather wearisome, so I certainly hope you come out of it soon," Mr. S replied, with a tinge of annoyance in his voice. "No matter what you may think I believe, I've no problem with people of either race," he continued, hedging his bets on the fact that Mr. Schnee seemed like one of those high-brow racists that prefered poetic prejudice to street side rants.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Qrow blinked back after an amazed silence, "I was just expecting more coughing and hacking when you referred to faunus as people."

"Well, I doubt my history would point to anything that would suggest I'd degrade my vocabulary with bad logic over the matter," Mr. S said, feeling the exhaustion weighing further and further on him as every bit of energy he tried to muster seemed to unravel at an accelerating pace. Really, all he could have ever wanted at this point was some sleep.

"I'm sorry, what are you trying to say?" Qrow said, having genuine difficulty understanding as he swayed back into his chair and tried not to slur his words.

"I'm saying I don't have any problems calling faunus people," Mr. S said curtly, realizing he should just kick them out and sleep but feeling an instinct to finish this stupid conversation for some reason.

"I'm sorry," Qrow said breathily as he half burped, pausing a long moment as he tried to regain his place in the sentence, "could you say that again?" He asked, still in disbelief as his general drunkenness exposed itself more and more.

"I said I don't have any problems calling faunus people," Mr. S replied, leaning back against his desk as his legs buzzed with exhaustion and his lids began to feel heavy over his eyes.

"You know…" Qrow paused, as if struggling to come up with what words to say while counting something out on his hands, "if I had a million lien for everytime you said that, I'd be a millionaire."


I've got another RWBY fanfiction as well. It's a "The Games We Play X ONE PUNCH MAN" Fanfiction called "The Rights We Fred."

Also, new short Stories on my website, FantasticTales . N E T .