Disclaimer: I do not own Red vs. Blue, nor do I own RWBY.

Chapter 3

(nighttime)

It is nighttime, and every new arrival are currently preparing for bed. The auditorium is a rather large room, certainly big enough to fit in a decent amount of houses,

However, due to recent events, there have been rumors that initiation may not begin until the end of the week, and it has been confirmed that it would definitely not be tomorrow. Thus, the reason why there aren't as much sleeping students and why the large room is not so quiet.

And among them, there is one… maybe two students who have a sneaking suspicion on who are responsible for the delay.

A red-haired girl scanned the crowd of students sitting around and talking about the latest gossip and, most recently, the temporary delay of initiation. Wearing a simple black t-shirt and pajama pants over an athletic figure, she would look just like your everyday city girl if not for the sharp glare in her forest green eyes. Normally, there would be a certain person with her to take out her frustration on, but for whatever reason, he isn't there right now. It doesn't help that said person is also the source of her frustration.

She was starting to get worried, though she'll never admit it out loud to anyone. Any amount of time that went past 20 minutes always meant that her idiots are getting themselves into trouble, and most of the times, they somehow involve the Reds. Then again, she can always rely on Church to keep himself and the rest of her idiots out of trouble.

She paused in her thoughts as she rewinded back to what she just said in her mind.

'Oh god, I'm putting faith in Church. That sounds wrong on so many levels,' she groused mentally. "In either case, if they weren't the ones responsible, then I hope the idiots made it here safely. And that they haven't gotten themselves into trouble."

…

(meanwhile)

Glynda retreated from the light once she saw that she was no longer the center of attention. These… children… are even more immature than the girl Ruby Rose, but while the young girl redeemed that immaturity with her admirable drive to protect the world from the forces of Grimm, she cannot say the same for these boys. Rambunctious, disrespectful, apathetic, vulgar, shameless, coarse, violent, she can continue listing all the traits that each of them displayed that she can use to expel them this instant.

That power, however, does not lie with her, but in the Headmaster, who is currently standing right next to her, watching the scene unfold while sipping from that coffee mug he never seems to be seen without. He has the appearance of a middle-aged gentleman dressed in a black suit, a black vest, a green undershirt, and a dark-green scarf with unruly gray hair and shaded, crooked glasses. In his hand is a mug of coffee raised to his lips and a cane hanging onto his other arm.

He's probably hiding an amused smirk behind that coffee mug, too, that jerk.

"Ozpin, why do you insist on accepting these misfits into Beacon? I can accept your excuse for Miss Rose… 'for some reasons more than others'… but they will need more than just the excuse of 'wasted potential'," Glynda expressed her disappointment and disapproval of the boys who were currently bickering at one another.

"Because they deserve a chance," he replied, his eyes never leaving the boys.

"That same chance has also culminated in the near devastation of Main Avenue," Glynda reminded him, "and the hospitalization of several arriving students. While it is a miracle that none of them were severely harmed, this has potentially pushed the schedule back by a week. Ozpin, I'm sorry if I still don't understand why you are keen on keeping them here."

"I'm sure you'll see the reason why I've chosen them to attend here soon, Glynda," Ozpin smiled mysteriously at his colleague, and then walked towards the bickering group. "Boys," he spoke up, "I believe it's time to tell you why you're here. If you recall correctly, each of you have –"

"Oh crap, it's him," Simmons whispered.

The headmaster raised a brow.

"It's Wash. Why does he have Wash's voice?"

"That settles it. He has to be the feds. The only people who could possibly have Wash's voice are the police. We are being interrogated right now," Church groaned.

Ozpin remained calm, "I assure you, I'm not the po-"

"Eat shit and die!" Grif shouted belligerently.

The silver-haired man had to raise a hand to stop Glynda from administering disciplinary action for the outrageous outburst. "That was very unnecessar–"

"Bite me, banana man! I want my phone call! This is illegal, damnit!"

He was beginning to wonder if the orange-themed boy was even listening to him and turned his attention to the one who appeared the least hostile. "Mr. Caboose. You seem to be of sound mind. Would you mind telling your friends that I'm not here to cause you any more trouble?"

[¿En serio? ¿Está pidiendo el idiota del grupo? / Are you serious? You're asking the idiot of the group?] the only full robot in the room asked, then snarked, [Usted también puede hablar con una pared y obtener una mejor respuesta que hablar con este idiota. / You may as well talk to a wall and get a better response than talk to this idiot.]

Caboose stared dumbly at the headmaster with an equally dumb smile on his lips, "Okay!" The blond turned to his compatriots and spoke slowly, "Church, Tucker, Grif, Simmons, Lopez. The nice old man is trying to tell us that he is not arresting us. He is going to execute us."

The Blues immediately understood that Caboose's mental facilities had just farted out explosive diarrhea that somehow clogged the shit out of the toilet it was going into, no pun intended, which was then regurgitated into an entirely new dimension before getting flushed again and shooting out back from the original toilet and into said facilities, and thus they understood the intention behind the words rather than the words themselves. The Reds however, or more specifically Grif, were not so quick on the uptake.

"I want my phone call damnit! I have rights! Oh, I am gonna sue the ever living fuck out of you if that's the last thing I do!"

"Grif, shut up," Simmons groaned, fixing his glasses back into a comfortable position. "You're making us look like idiots."

"What Simmons said, Grif! Shut up!" Sarge came into the room, not looking worse for wear.

"You are late, Professor," Glynda groused out. "What is your excuse that you got your own student assistants into trouble? Not only did you stop them, you joined them in their carnage." Grif mouthed 'student assistants' with distaste, but no one saw him.

"Right. I was cleaning the blood off my shotgun. Many was spilled in the battle only hours ago."

The orange-themed teen immediately called bullshit, "Most of it mine! You shot me 8 times, and rammed the butt of your blasted gun in my face at least 11 more times!"

"And a damn shame it was, dirtbag! I could have sworn you would be dead after the first headshot!"

Grif threw his arms up and leaned back in his chair. Church decided to speak his piece, "Now that the peanut gallery is done with that shit, do you mind telling us why we're here, old man?"

Ozpin leaned forward, pleased that one of them decided to focus on the issue at hand, "Do you know who I am, Mr. Church?"

Each one of the ones in question looked at each other, before Church asked the question they're all asking in their heads, "Who are you?"

Ozpin and Glynda, the latter more than the former, appeared surprised at the lack of familiarity, in which Tucker replied aridly to save him and the others the trouble,

"Apparently, paying attention to lame history lessons is not one of our super powers."

"Lame hist-?!" Professor Goodwitch almost squawked before she reigned herself in. "This is common knowledge, Mr. Tucker."

"Oh, sure. Everyone knows him but us," Church snarked, "In other news, the sun is on fire!"

"The ocean is flooding!" Simmons chipped in.

"Remnant is a sphere!" Tucker threw in his two cents.

"The Council placed chips in our brain!" Grif gasped loudly.

Caboose lets out a huge, horrific gasp. "They put dihydrogen monoxide in our water!" A very dark expression settled on the special, usually happy-go-lucky blond as his fists balled up. "They must be punished."

"Caboose, that's a myth. Dihydrogen monoxide doesn't even exist!" Church corrected him.

"Oh," The dark mood disappeared as though it had never been there, "Then what about the fluoride?"

Grif replied, "You wanna know why people listens to pop music?"

"Enough," Glynda interrupted, cracking her riding crop on the table and effectively silencing the conversation that had emerged. "Professor Ozpin, will you please get to the point? I'm afraid talking to them in a roundabout way won't help them the least bit."

"At least someone here likes to take it fast. Bow-chicka-bow-wow!" Tucker quipped, and immediately a riding crop found itself slapping on the back of his hands, causing him to recoil and hiss in pain. Too bad it did nothing to wipe away the shit-eating grin on his face, "…That was so worth it!"

"Hm. Professor Goodwitch's sex life aside," Ozpin chose to interrupt, earning an icy, stern glare from said professor, "I believe it's time we discuss what happened."

"Fine, I'm starting to get annoyed with being in this room and I wanna go to sleep, so I'm just gonna lay it all out for you. Most of us here are from Gulch, we chose to desert from its army, you found out about us earlier than expected because that fucking excuse of a colonel over there-" he thrusted a finger at the newly-inducted professor, who scoffed at the lame insult, "-decided to have a conflict with us, and now we're here, talking about feds, who the hell you are, a hell of a lot of sarcasm, the wannabe BDSM secretary's sex life, and who-knows-what-else! DOES THAT EXPLAIN EVERYTHING?!"

Everyone in the room was silent at the outburst, the faculty members more than the detained, as Church tried to regain his bearings through deep, harsh breaths.

"…See, when Church yells like that, it means he's really angry," Caboose decided to chirp in.

"Thank. You. Caboose. He knows," the coat-clad teen managed to grouse out through clenched teeth.

Ozpin stared at Church with studious eyes, then at every other male and one robot in the room. Glynda chose to glare with strong disapproval at all of them. Each of them gulped sans Lopez.

Surprisingly, Sarge chose to speak up, "I think I know the best compromise for everything that has happened."

"Oh? Then let's hear it, Professor Sarge. I believe we have wasted enough of the boys' time here. Boys, you may leave if you wish."

…

Tex gave that thought much more time than she was accustomed to, and took it back with a sarcastic bark,

"Nah, who am I kidding? They're probably in trouble already." She scanned the crowd of students that were talking amongst each other and thought out loud, "Now, who can I bother until the idiots come here?"

"Um, apologies," a voice stopped her thoughts and the red-haired girl turned her attention to... another red-haired girl. In a short red nightwear, her fellow redhead is taller than average, which is just about her own height as well, allowing a good portion of her legs to be displayed. If anything, they almost look alike. The only difference is that Tex's skin tone is paler, her eyes much narrower, and her hair much shorter. "But are you alright?"

'Pyrrha Nikos,' she immediately recognized. 'She's more humble than she makes herself out to be in the tournaments.' "No, nothing's wrong. Just looking for my idiots is all."

"But there seems to be more than that. Is there any problem? It's just that… well, everyone you're glaring at are becoming unsettled."

Tex stared at the girl a bit longer before a devious smirk sprouted on her lips. Yes, she'll do just fine.

(later)

"I can't believe we stayed in that room for five hours."

When Church, Grif, Tucker, Simmons, Caboose, and Lopez finally left the interrogation room, the sun had already set and the hall was eerily silent, save for the auditorium a distance away. Whatever Sarge was going to tell those two professors, it saved them their time, but it didn't bode well either.

"That's only because our resident egghead here kept setting the bars high up. I mean, who in the living fuck makes a negotiation that ends with them losing more than they gain?" Grif asked in exasperation.

…

(earlier)

"No, I am not going to wear that monkey suit they call 'uniforms'!" Grif stated stubbornly.

"Yeah, cuz you're just gonna drip ice cream all over the damn thing like you did with the last one you had, fatass!" Simmons yelled back.

"That's a burn," Sarge remarked.

[Pido disculpas por estos idiotas. Son muy molesto y difícil de trabajar con. / I apologize for these dumbasses. They are very annoying and hard to work with.] Lopez apologized to the blonde teacher, if not to placate her, then to score some brownie points for himself. Unfortunately for him, she understood what he said just as well as the group the robot came with. Not one bit.

The other two boys did nothing but close their eyes at the trouble that was happening next to them. The unkempt blond one was watching the scene with rapt attention that she was sure had nothing to do with listening to what was happening.

This is going to take a long time. A very long time.

Now if only Ozpin would stop sipping from the damn mug of his, this would go a lot faster.

…

"What the- the bars have to be set high! It was the only way we could stay in Beacon!" Simmons defended himself, "At least staying here would be better going back in Gulch while the heat is still high or- or picking cotton back in Vacuo!"

"Okay, racist!" Tucker shouted, sounding extremely offended. "Next, you're gonna tell us that that it'll be better than being Vacuoan!"

"Vacuoan is not a race! It's a class of citizenship!"

"Whatever you say… racist."

Church gave a long sigh. "Simmons." Said person gave him his attention. "I love you as a guy-friend, alright? I want to make that clear first, so no one will misunderstand."

The glasses-clad teen stared confusedly. "Um, thank you?"

"But telling that scary blonde bitch that we'll definitely not get into trouble was probably the worst thing you've ever done for us. I mean, have you seen our track records?"

Indeed, Simmons had seen them. Multiple times, in fact. He had even seen a document of it when he had hacked into both Gulch's and the Atlesian military database, but nobody needed to know that just yet. "They can't be that bad."

"Ohoho, I think otherwise," Church scoffed at the weak reply, "Caboose here is the prime example of bad track records."

"Hello!" Said person chirped at the mention of his name.

"He's team-killed more of his previous team than all of us combined in the last eight years, both ingame and in real life. I don't even know if he's operating on an earthly spectrum of stupid."

The group finally made it into the auditorium, where sleeping bags were strewn in a semi-orderly fashion, with some grouped together in little cliques and others in rows. "Aw, damnit! We missed dinner!" Grif shouted in disbelief, drawing the attention of a few before they returned to whatever they had been doing.

"It's been over for a good hour now," one of the student called him out, which made the group turn their eyes toward Simmons. The time that Simmons had spent trying to negotiate with the professors had also been a good hour.

"Gee, I wonder whose fault that was?" Tucker rolled his eyes while drawling sarcastically.

"Hindsight is 20/20," Simmons admitted tiredly.

"Unless it needs contacts. Then sometimes, it's 20/30," Caboose inserted randomly.

"I don't care about hindsight or contacts, I want my dinner!"

"Grif, I'll pay you 300 Lien if you can shut up about food for 30 days."

"I'll stick my foot up your ass for 30 days if you don't feed me!"

"Oh, hey~ guys~! What's this about asses?"

Simmons and Grif froze stiffly at that greeting. That damn cheerful voice laced with diabetes and other heart-stopping diseases was directed at the two of them. And they have the utmost confidence that they know who it belongs to.

"Simmons. Please tell me that was not Donut just now."

"That was Donut just now, Grif."

"Of course it's me, silly! I didn't know that you guys were going to Beacon!" Donut sounded genuinely surprised. And excited. With a lot of emphasis on the 'excited'. Which made Grif moan in a lot more pain than earlier.

"Oh hey, it's Donut! How's my favorite Red guy doing?" Church greeted.

"Fan-tast-ic!" the metrosexual blond waved his hand, "I got to see the interior designs of the academy, listened to a speech the Headmaster gave- by the way, he sounds really based. And what else? Oh yeah, I got myself a new girly-friend!"

"Aw, sweet! So what's the verdict: grapes, lemons, oranges, melons?" Tucker asked the question that mattered.

"Oh, she is just fine!" Donut replied cheerily, "Yang Xiao Long's her name. She has the nicest shade of lilac eyes I've ever seen, and her hair is just fabulous. Her wardrobe could make do with a major do-over though. Oh, there are those moments where she pulls her hair over her shoulders to comb it with her hands-"

"Bitchin'! How's the rack?!"

Before Donut could reply, the effeminate boy caught Grif and Simmons trying to sneak off and went to grab them. They cried in terror, trying to get out of his grip. "Don't be like that, guys. I even went out of my way to get your stuffs, too! It'll be just like old days, when we were all alone in that box canyon, like strapping young men lost in the wilderness. Only this time, we don't have any tents to initiate our own little Brokeback-"

"I'm beginning to remember why I hate you so much!" Grif yelled.

"Uh, yeah. So… I guess we'll leave you guys to your… uhm… reunion," Church stared at the two in silence, then left promptly with a, "…'kay, bye."

"Don't you leave us, traitor!" Simmons shook a fist at him.

"Hi, Mister Muffin Man! Bye, Colonel Biscuits!" Caboose followed after Church.

"Later, guys. Donut. Don't torture these guys with your striking fabulousness, will ya?" Tucker waved and left as quickly as his crew did.

"As long as you keep up that metrosexual vibe you got goin' for you!" Donut waved back goodbye and turned back to his buddies, "We, have so much to talk about! Like, with the upcoming initiation, the ceremony after that, then first day of classes, arranging the schedule- ooh, and my personal favorite: Decorating the room we get into! Let's write up an itinerary and give it to Sarge tomorrow!" Donut exclaimed, making Grif groan again and Simmons to tuck his glasses back up as the flamboyant teen dragged the two and search for an area for the three of them to sleep.

And so the two soon realized what hell is like… and they were sure as hell, no pun intended, that one single large sleeping bag could not have that many frills and doilies. That they were forced into.

"Was it a wise decision to let them off without punishment, Ozpin?" Glynda finally asked the headmaster as he finished the last of his coffee back in his office.

"They will be punished soon, mark my words. It is merely postponed is all," Ozpin replied placidly. "Have I ever disappointed you in the end?"

"Yes. The results don't, but you still do," she immediately responded bluntly.

"You hurt me, Glynda," Ozpin chuckled humorously, picking up a silver thermos flask on his office desk to refill his mug.

"Speaking of which, what will we do about the mess back on Main Avenue?"

Ozpin poured himself another mug of coffee, "I had David take care of the mess."

…

The figure in a steel gray jumpsuit with yellow trims had just finished setting up the lights to illuminate the yard where the site of destruction is situated at. No distinct physical attributes can be made through the gray balaclava that covered all of his face and his eyes were obscured by a pair of mirrored orange-tinted glasses. Despite the entirety of his face being obscured, it is clear to everyone that he is not one to be messed with if the way he directs himself says anything.

"Yep," he remarked as he studied the utter chaos that was the result of the Reds and Blues duking it out. "This is their work, alright. Some of these rubbles aren't even part of Beacon's pavement."

He released a sigh he did not know he was holding.

"Why did they have to make such a big mess? It's not even the first day of school! Couldn't they keep themselves out of trouble for at least a week? Hell, even a day would be welcome!" he bemoaned. A moment of silence passed and he finally shrugged,

"Oh, who am I kidding? I miss those guys."

Rolling his arms, he proceeded to clean up the mess, as per his duty as the school janitor.

…

Glynda kept a stern gaze as she remembered the newly-instated janitor, who had entered the academy only months prior. Despite his application stating that he wished to be a student of Beacon, there were two problems that prevented him from doing so: he is much older than the students, perhaps a year or two older than most of the third-years, and his overall combat experience are far more than what any students should have.

David's physical exams indicate an extremely disciplined exercise routine, Aura notwithstanding, and his abilities and skills in battle are nothing to scoff at either, though it appears he favors the traditional method of fighting/hunting, using knives and firearms separately instead of the complex mecha-shifting contraptions that are so very popular among the young ones these days.

For all intents and purposes, he is already more than ready to become a full-fledged Huntsman. Still, she had one concern,

"I still don't think it was a wise decision to make him the janitor."

Ozpin cracked a grin, "Well, it did sound like a good idea when he first walked into this room. And he was very adamant in staying at Beacon rather than earning his license immediately," He hid a smirk as he rose the mug to his lips, "I should remind you that it is an action that you yourself approved of."

"I approved of him remaining to earn his education properly," Glynda corrected him succinctly, "Not him upholding his janitorial tasks."

"And yet, he's still here, cleaning the hallways that get trashed enormously one day, and squeaky clean the next day. I couldn't have asked for more."

The librarian-esque woman turned her head towards Ozpin, "We still need to discuss the scheduling of initiation, Ozpin. We'll need to go over the agenda as to what we will do, now that all the arriving students are accounted for."

"In due time, Glynda. In due time," the headmaster swiveled his chair to stare outside, right where David Washington is cleaning up the mess of a battlefield in record time, "It looks like it's turning out to be a very interesting year."

She shook her head, finally allowing herself a rare smile, "You say that every year, Ozpin."

"True. Doesn't stop me from saying it anyways."

A/N: I don't have an excuse for why I'm doing late updates. I don't even have an excuse as to why the humor in this chapter feels forced (in my opinion). I will tell you, however, that more of the cast of RWBY will be making their appearance next chapter.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go back to my other stories. See ya then.

-DarkAkatsuk1