No Substitutions, Exchanges, or Refunds
I don't own RWBY This Episode is related to Episode 10 and Episode 11, and is therefore part of the Clean Slate 'Verse.
Mercury Black wasn't sure what to make of the strange orange-haired girl that had just literally decapitated his father before leaving a pair of copper coins with a rose emblazoned upon each over his eyes, but then, he supposed that if it left Marcus Black dead, he didn't rightly care. However strange this was, he doubted that she was worse than his father, so he took to following her.
"Heed my words well, Mercury Black," the girl stated after some time of their traveling, "If you are to continue traveling with me, you must know that we kill only in the name of great justice. We are the followers of the Red Death. We are the punishment of the monsters that escape justice, no more and no less."
"Got it," he replied, "Where exactly are we going, though?"
"Beacon Academy," she replied, "You need to learn proper discipline and I need to learn more human behaviors, and neither of us are fit to teach the other. Beacon, as the best of the Huntsman Academies, is the most logical place to go for such lessons. Do you have an issue with the matter?"
"Okay, but don't they have tests and papers to get into there?" he asked, having a general idea of how Academies worked.
"There are ways around that," she replied freely, "But, I at least, shall need a pseudonym. Penny Copper should suffice. Would you care to have a pseudonym as well?"
"It wouldn't help any," he shrugged, "Not like anyone knew my dad anyway. At least, no one who would have any business being at a school like that. On the other hand, getting some distance from him would be nice… Mercury Iron? Quicksilver? Obsidian? That one sounds pretty cool. Let's do that one."
A recently one-eyed woman stared blankly at the charred ashes of the assassin's house. The past week just seemed to not be her week.
If there was one thing that Ilia Amitola was good at outside of stealth, it was tracking. Thus far, she had managed to trace the train that she had been on, finding a section of Weiss's mask, which led her to the name of a semi-retired Huntsman by the name of Qrow Branwen. A few questions of the right people let her know that he was an alcoholic, which, in turn, led her to the local bars. Further prodding led her to a classy dive, two words she didn't think were compatible until that day, named Junior's. A quick showing of her mask and some pointed questions led her to the counterfeiter Jaune Arc, which brought her to her current situation.
"Who are you and why did you kick in our door?" the redhaired amazon demanded of her as she pinned her to the floor, the cutting edge of the blade of her javelin resting lightly beside the chameleon Faunus's cheek while her sword flew away from her hand.
"Oh, for the love of…" the blond at the desk grumbled in frustration, plucking the loupe from his eye, "Do you have any idea how many hours of work you almost cost? Travel papers, passports, admission letters… I swear, if one more person bursts into this place with demands, I'm gonna just burn this entire building to the ground." He sighed. "How can I help you?"
"You know what organization I am a part of. I have been sent by the Great Leader to find her Right Hand and aid her in her endeavors," she stated with dignity, as if she weren't being pinned, "I have been told she came here in the company of one Qrow Branwen."
"Of course this sort of thing is happening," he sighed, "Question, though. What is my business, again?"
"You're a counterfeiter," she replied.
"And what do counterfeiters do?" he pressed, gesturing for the amazon to let her get up.
"You falsify documents," she replied, "Presumably for some price or another."
"So, what part of my operation would say that I would give away the information of someone who may or may not have come through my place of business?" he asked, "People wouldn't exactly keep coming to me if they thought that I was going to tell anyone who asked about potential clients. If you want to pass on a message, I'll see if I can get it to the person in question, but that's about all I could do for you."
Ilia was about to release a sarcastic response when she saw a familiar white ponytail from a nearby doorway.
"Weiss?!" she called out, causing the figure to pause and glance through the doorway.
"Ilia?" she asked, staring at the girl, her mask broken in one spot and bandages over some cuts underneath it, "Is that you?"
"You had us all worried," she said, rushing towards the sole human member of the White Fang and enveloping her in a tight hug, "I was sent to help you in whatever it is you're doing."
"Enrolling at Beacon," Weiss responded, "I got roped into it by a drunk Huntsman, but I think that getting lessons from the premier Hunter Academy would be very useful when we return to the fold. What happened to the rest of my team?"
"Summoned back to Menagerie," she replied, "And Adam either is set to be or was executed for betraying you."
"It sounds like you need another admission form…" Jaune sighed as Pyrrha flew Ilia's sword bak to the Chameleon Faunus, "I'm saying that you were tutored with her so I can just set up a backstory that works without me putting in that much effort, Ilia…"
"Amitola," Ilia replied, sheathing her sword, "How much will this cost me?"
"This time, nothing," he replied tiredly, taking out a blank paper, some official Valean ink, a fountain pen, and his loupe, "Same as that one girl. I'm just counting you as part of a friend's marker, since you're sticking with one of the people he asked me to make these for."
As he started working, there was a polite knock at the door.
Jaune sighed in frustration. "You two, go to the back. White Fang members make people antsy, especially the Faunus clients."
Before the two could react to that statement, they found themselves being lifted by their weapons and promptly shoved through a door that was shut by magnetic forces acting on the handle. When the knock repeated, Pyrrha took her position next to Jaune and used her Semblance to open the door.
This led to a red-haired girl who could be described as energy incarnate to burst through excitedly, glancing around as if she were pretending to be a secret agent, despite the colossal hammer she was holding with ease. Behind her entered a boy with black hair and pink highlights, who, going by his calm demeanor, was the one who had been doing the knocking.
"How can I help you?" Jaune asked, looking carefully to figure out what he could about them. They didn't look like they were on the run, but their clothes weren't in the best state, with the girl's hammer, in particular, looking a bit messy.
"My name is Lie Ren, and this is Nora Valkyrie. We were told that you were the person to talk to about some documents…" the boy said carefully.
Sighing, he voiced his suspicion, "Let me guess: Beacon Academy acceptance letters?"
"Transcripts for any school that would be believable and difficult to check. We have acceptance letters, but we were told in the additional letter that we would need to provide documentation, since we claimed that we were from an Academy."
"Sounds easy enough," he replied, "I've got some academies that we can fake your transcripts for with no questions. I've got a couple jobs to finish up, first, but it'll be done before the Bullheads come in."
"How much do we owe you?" the girl, Nora asked.
"This one's on the house," Jaune replied, "And you two can have one of the guest rooms in here to stay in while you wait. There's a lab to fix up your weapons, and you can take whatever you want from the clothing rack in there, too. Just know that I've got a few other people using some of the guest rooms already."
"That's extremely generous of you," Ren noted.
"Hey, we're going to be classmates," Jaune replied easily, slipping back into his role, "Might as well make friends early on."
It was at that exact moment that Yang apparently decided to come to the front.
"Hey!" she cheerily said as the two new clients tensed, "I know you two! You took stuff from the Tribe! Nice…"
"You're one of those bandits?" Nora asked, her hand sliding into a ready grip while Ren's arms tensed, no doubt meant to activate whatever his weapons were. Yang, for her part, grinned at the fact that there was going to be a fight. If Jaune knew anything about the Branwen Tribe, and he prided himself on knowing about a lot of things in the criminal underground, she was planning on testing them for recruitment into the Tribe.
"Pyrrha," he asked, deliberately maintaining his calm, "Could you…?"
"On it," she replied before all three parties were promptly disarmed.
"Thank you, Pyrrha," he said, before getting up from his desk and amiably say, "Now, even if we're leaving, I'd like to have my building not be turned into a tumbled down fight club. So, I would appreciate it if you didn't try to have a brawl! In my office! Please!"
When they all took on a relaxed stance, he sighed, "Thank you."
"You will get your weapons back later," Pyrrha stated plainly, "When we're assured that you won't fight with one another in here."
Meanwhile, in the back room, Qrow was speaking with his younger niece.
"I don't suppose you had any students that you did take on…?" he prompted.
"Like I told Emerald," she replied, "I don't take on students. Why?"
"Well, someone's been hunting down some untouchable people recently. Criminals with connections in the Atlesian military, authority figures that abuse their powers off the books… Things like that."
"And that ties to me, how?" she asked, "Figures like that make a lot of enemies."
"The bodies are found with copper coins over their eyes," he said, "Copper coins with a thorny rose imprinted onto them."
"Interesting…" she murmured, "Get me a list of the people they dealt with. I'll judge if they acted in the name of Justice."
"Really?" Emerald asked incredulously, "All someone taking up your mission gets is an 'interesting.' You keep telling me that you won't take up a disciple because no one understands your concept of justice and this person is literally acting just like one!"
"If they are in the wrong, they will be dead by my scythe," she replied simply, "If they are right, then they are divinely inspired in the same way that I am. I won't stop Justice just because I am not the one bringing it to light. The world will be as good a place as it is in the stories. If others manage to see the problems as clearly as I do, then it means that Justice will be served, but it is not meant to be solely my job. You might understand, in time."
The days passed rather quickly, with the various people of less-than-reputable backgrounds getting prepared for going to start their classes, until it came to the day that the Bullheads were to pick up the students to take them to Beacon Academy.
It was a quirk of possibility that three particular individuals were on the same airship.
"Blake?!" Ilia asked in surprise, causing the black-haired girl wearing a bow over her cat ears to freeze in her tracks.
Before she could recover and rush away, she was promptly greeted by a flash of white hair from her right.
"It is you," Weiss noted, "We thought Adam had… gotten rid of you…"
"What are you two talking about?" she asked nervously, hoping that they would believe she was someone else entirely.
"We used to work at the same office as you," Ilia stated pointedly, flanking her on the left, "You didn't have a bow back then… "
"You must have the wrong person," Blake said flatly, her bow going flat as she blinked at the scar on Weiss's face.
"We could settle this pretty easily," Weiss replied, "Why don't you take off that bow of yours?"
"Do you want the truth?" Blake asked flatly, "The truth is that I felt that the… company was going in a different direction than what I had been expecting when I had first been a member."
"The head of the organization did take a harsher approach than the previous leader had, but it was working," Weiss argued, "Adam was taking it to a place that she didn't approve of. He's been terminated recently, after his plans led to unfortunate circumstances." At that, she ran her finger along the top of her scar.
"And how does that equal you being here?" she pressed.
"I ran into a semi-retired Huntsman, whatever that means, and he got me enrolled," she shrugged, "Ilia's here to back me up."
"I see…" Blake said, "I'd prefer if this didn't get back to her."
"We're not here for you," Ilia replied, "There's no point in trying to force you to come back. Right, Weiss?"
Weiss gave Blake a calculating look before she said, "It's a volunteer service meant to help the community. If you're not there willingly, then you shouldn't be there. I don't see why we'd need to tell anyone about this."
Unsaid but understood by Blake was the fact that Weiss clearly intended to try to persuade her to rejoin. Ilia sighed. She supposed that, at the very least, it would be interesting to watch.
