Last time on Arrrr-Dubbleyou-Beee-Why, Blake goes crazy for fish and Ren doesn't realize how fucked he is.

You better grab some popcorn. (or fish, if you want to donate to Goddess Blake)

Ladies and Mentlegen, welcome to...

Blake's Day Part III: Fishpocalypse Origins

*ruby makes dun dun dun dunnnn noises in the background*

It really is a wonderful day outside, Ozpin thought, strolling on the paved stone walkway. His cane was in the crook of his elbow, cup of coffee held his free hand. Numerous students greeted him while he was strolling, to which he replied with a nod and a gesture of his mug.

Ah, how the campus springs to life… it truly is something to see. The sight just warms my heart. Unlike Glynda, he saw the fact that his students were not fully grown men and women yet; they deserved to have a bit of fun while they still could. Even the seniors needed some downtime. Besides, it'll be decades until they can settle down again.

It was 9:30 by this point, and the sun was slowly asserting itself as king for the day, the temperature rising with it. Opting to move under the shade for a few minutes, Ozpin sat down on a park bench, put his cane down next to him, and took a sip of his coffee. He's been asked many times what he drinks, and he still doesn't quite understand why. Do they think it's some sort of drug? I've assured them time and time again that it's just normal coffee. Some have even speculated that I drink whiskey. Silly children. He granted himself a small smile. I would obviously pick a fine wine.

He sipped. Putting the mug back in its neutral position, he looked around at the beauty that was Beacon on a spring Saturday.

Moments like these were ones he cherished. Though the teenagers around him would not understand for some time, such relaxation was, and will be, hard to come by. All in due time, he thought to himself. Smiling, he was about to raise his cup to his lips-

To have a pebble fall in it, completed with a tiny 'plunk' sound. He looked up, but saw no perpetrator who deigned to throw rocks in the headmaster's coffee. How peculiar, he thought. Perhaps Ms. Valkyrie is just making more commotion, shook something loose. It's very plausible. After all, his first-years this time around had proven themselves to be a very interesting bunch.

He looked down at his coffee with a slight frown on his lips, returning his attention to his beloved joe. I wonder how clean that rock was. Should I still drink this? The brown, steaming mixture still had some bubbles on the surface from when the pebble had made its entrance, but it looked normal otherwise. This academy is old. Through the years it has stood through thick and thin, endured dangerous storms and well-meaning pranks.

The stone is most likely very dirty.

However, his eyes never left the coffee. But I want it. I need it. It's my life force. This liquid fuels me. He smiled to himself, pleased with the outcome of the argument against himself. So it won't hurt to have a sip then, will it?

He took a tentative sip. Hm. Doesn't seem to have a different taste. He smacked his lips, analyzing the sensory pleasure to see if it was different in any way.

He took another sip, hesitance melting away. It tastes like my usual grind. Flavorful, strong... wait. He smacked his lips again. What is that after-taste? It tastes…

Anotha' one. Tastes like…

He took an even longer sip, drinking up the last dregs of the cup. My Oum. This!... This is ambrosia! The accent it adds to the natural flavor makes it subtly eye-opening, the aftertastes leaves something to be desired… He glanced down at the bottom of his now-emptied cup, and noticed that the pebble was no longer grey, but pure white. Curious, he picked it up from the bottom, trace amounts of coffee still outlining the pearl-like stone.

"Now then, how did you do that?" He wondered to himself out loud, holding the pebble-pearl up to get a better look at it. But before he could continue his contemplation, he felt a rather sizable chunk of… something fall on his head. Lucky for him, decades of being one of Remnant's most experienced hunters made one realize that passive aura shielding was important for whatever you were doing, no matter where you were. He felt the impact and heard the offending object slide behind him and land with a thump. He glanced, and saw that it was a flat slab of stone, grey and faded. Ozpin briefly contemplated putting it in his coffee mug for later, but he decided against it after after reasoning that it was too large.

Wait. Chunks of rock falling from Beacon?

He looked up to confirm his suspicions when another rock, fist sized, fell on his face.

"Oomph!" Yet again, his aura shielded his face from becoming a mix of blood and broken spectacles, but he could still feel the force. After readjusting his glasses, he was met with the most peculiar sight, blinking a few times to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him due to advancing age.

Ms. Belladonna? The sight was unmistakable. Black buttoned vest with coat tails fluttering in the wind, and black stockings that faded to purple the lower they went down her legs. The black bow. All of it screamed Blake Belladonna.

And she was climbing the outside walls of Beacon Academy. After putting two and two together, he realized that she must have loosened some rocks.

Is this some unsolicited rock climbing activity that I'm not aware of?

"Ms. Belladonna?" He shouted upwards, hoping that his voice could be heard all the way up there. When she didn't react, he tried again.

"Ms. Belladonna!" She turned her head, feral look in her eyes, glinting in the sunlight like gems in a dark cavern. Her voice, however, did not imply such hostility.

"Good morning, Headmaster," she called back. She was casually dangling from a ribbon of some sorts in one hand, books and a brick in the other. Her voice remained monotone, but Ozpin could still see an unmistakable drive in her eyes that he'd seen in so many other students when they wanted something done.

"Yes, it is a good morning. May I ask what you're doing up there? I can assure you, the weather down here is just as comfortable as up there," he said with a joking tone, hoping to disarm the strange situation.

"My door was locked, and my scroll ran out of battery." She still appeared calm and quiet, the only indicator otherwise being her eyes.

"I see. And why did you not ask for assistance?"

"Staff was on break."

"Hm." He took an unconscious sip of his coffee, but his lips weren't met with anything except cold porcelain. "And the books?"

Blake began to start swinging, moving her legs to start gaining momentum. "I was reading," she replied, keeping her answers short and curt as she usually does.

"The brick?"

"It was my armrest."

"Hm." Ozpin would've questioned that, but fatigue from going caffeine-free so long clouded his mind. "So you're now resorting to breaking into your room through the window."

"Yes." She was gaining the momentum she needed rather quickly.

"I see." He nearly took a sip from his coffee, but caught himself. Pain blossomed in his chest at full blown realization that he wasn't drinking coffee at the moment. He cleared his throat instead. "You do realize that what you're about to do is a felony."

"Yes." Her eyes were still focused on the window; it was obvious that the headmaster wasn't a priority in her mind at the moment.

Ozpin looked down at his empty coffee mug, craving already setting in. I either reprimand a student for breaking a window for which one of their teammates could easily replace with a golden one, or I can get myself some more pebble-coffee.

It wasn't a hard decision.

"Carry on, Ms. Belladonna. Have a nice day." As he stood back up and began to walk away, her response came in the noise of her kicking the window open.

Taking out his scroll, he called for Glynda. He was able to reach her after two buzzes.

"Yes, Ozpin?" She was clearly at her desk right now, as he could hear several pencils writing at the same time, along with stamps for grading pounding on paper in the background. Her semblance proved very useful in these situations, and Glynda's mental capacity to micromanage multiple tasks went hand in hand with her inborn telekinesis.

"What are the chances that you would be able to obtain some rocks from Beacon's walls for me?"

The incessant scratching and pounding noises stopped. "You want rocks? For what?"

"For my coffee." He turned on his video camera, and showed her the white pebble inside, a bit of coffee still swirling around the bottom that he didn't finish off. It jingled and clanged as he moved his cup in a circular motion. "You see, it tasted quite nice. You should really try some."

Glynda turned on her video camera. Stared for a few seconds. Blinked at him twice.

And hung up.

He chuckled to himself and began the long trek up to his office, resorting to texting instead.

"Make sure they're small pebbles, please."

"I'm busy, Ozpin. I have no time for your childish games."

"I'm hurt."

"Good." With that, Ozpin noted the message on the screen in red letters, telling him that the recipient had blocked off communications to her scroll for the next hour.

Hmph. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

...

Maybe she just needs some pebble-coffee.

She landed with a shoulder roll, her aura cushioning the landing on her body. Retracting Gambol Shroud from its position as a stake on the rooftop with a specific tug to dislodge it and sheath it, she brushed off any shards of glass that might have stuck to her clothing before realizing that she didn't actually break the window; in fact, it wasn't locked. Lucky me, she thought to herself as she inspected the hinges, which were still in working condition.

She put the brick and the books on her bed, and made her way over to Weiss' dresser in a few steps. Time was of the essence, but she knew that if she rummaged through Weiss' things carelessly, she might believe that a thief might have entered the dorm, and a full-blown investigation would eventually find Blake as the perpetrator.

Not what I want to happen, Blake noted to herself as she dug through the dresser, being sure to replace what she moved. She knew that everyone's favorite princess kept a large amount of Lien on hand in case of emergencies, and Blake has observed her tuck it into something each time she took it out and replaced it.

Eugh, this feels so wrong. Blake Belladonna, promising huntress-in-training, rifling through her teammate's undergarments. She stopped going through the clothing and tilted her head. Then again, it'd be even worse if it were Ruby's. Shaking her head, she reminded herself that she needed to make things quick. It was amusing, however, to notice that Weiss' bras were remarkable small. She kept this information in the back of her mind, filing it in case of use for a joke or blackmail.

After two more minutes of reminding herself that she's doing this for the fish, her fingers felt the cool touch of metal compared to the soft fabrics.

Ah-ha! I have you now!

She started to carefully move clothing as to not make conspicuous wrinkles, memorizing where they were before she moved them. She knew that Weiss preferred order and organization, and that she would be suspicious if her bras were suddenly on the other side of the dresser. When she saw the familiar metal glint of a Lien card, she moved the final undergarment and pulled it out. But when she extracted the case of Lien, she noticed that it was wrapped in something at the bottom. Something private.

Something she definitely wasn't supposed to see. Ever.

i... think i just died a bit on the inside.

For in her hands, Blake was holding lace underwear.

Three pairs, in fact.

And each less protective than the next.

Immediately, she dropped it as if it were a hot potato, staring at it. Weiss Schnee, uptight, bossy, living manifestation of 1% has... this? Blake could feel shivers running down her spine, the mere thought unsettling her. (in a bad way. sorry monochrome fans, but this ain't the fic-tease for you.) What does she even need this for? She slowly picked the lace-wrapped Lien up in her hands, eye twitching and hands trembling.

Blake's mind automatically reverted itself to thinking about worst-case scenarios, namely what would happen if her teammates were to walk in right then and there to catch Blake fondling Weiss' finer undergarments.

Weiss herself would probably scream, faint, wake up to scream more, and call the police. And scream more, most likely adding racial slurs and profanity.

Ruby would wonder what Blake was holding up, the innocent girl unknowing of these risque fashion choices.

Yang would never let her hear the end of it. And probably tell everyone in Beacon if Blake didn't get a handle on her quickly enough.

Oum, is this payback for reading all that smut? She asked to no one in particular in her head. Taking a deep breath and keeping it there, she noted denominations ranging from one to one-thousand.

She kept it quick and easy, gingerly taking out three one-hundred Lien cards out of the impromptu lace pocket, hoped that it would be enough, and tucked the packet back into its spot with the care of a mother with her baby. She then rapidly refolded the clothing exactly as they were, trying not to touch the lace as if it were lava.

After breathing a sigh of relief, she looked down at the mess on their dorm room floor now. The wood was slightly dented from Blake's drop from the windows, but other than that, the room looked perfectly fine. She shut the drawer.

It's all for the fish. Her stomach growled, reminding her of her true purpose. With that, she opened the dorm room door and slipped out, none the wiser as she set up the perfect day for herself.

Ren was about to call Blake on her scroll when he finally saw her speed walking towards him, the same glint in her eyes from before. Since Ren already made it outside in wait, Blake flashed her scroll to the guard and stepped out of campus.

"That was fast." He rose an eyebrow when he saw Blake flash the Lien cards. "Does Weiss know?"

She lied. "Of course. We're good friends."

He nodded. "To make things go quickly, I set up a nav-path for our shopping route. It's on your scroll." He paused to let Blake take her scroll out to find the GPS. "How much did you borrow?"

"Three hundred." Blake's eyes were still on the navigation system, but Ren's eyes went wide upon hearing the figure.

"We only need one hundred for the gear, unless you plan on buying the whole ensemble."

She raised her eyebrow. "Ensemble?" She repeated.

"Bug spray, better bait..." It all sounded tedious to Blake. But the prospect of fish laid ahead, and better bait could only improve their chances.

"Alright." She shut her scroll. "Are we going now?" She didn't stop her impatience from bleeding into her voice; she might as well have been tapping her feet and looking at the watch on her wrist that wasn't there.

"If you're ready."

Blake nodded. "We're gonna need to hurry if we want to catch the ten o'clock," as the airbuses came and left on time, no matter the circumstances.

Ren looked down at his scroll. "We have twenty minutes. We can make it."

Blake just shrugged and started walking. (original ending for this chapter, but i decided to continue it from here)

The thirty minute ride to the commercial district was uneventful. Stepping off of the transport, their clothing rippled in the air as the bus took off once more, making its rounds for the day. After stretching, they both looked down at their scrolls.

Blake spoke up first. "Let's go." Memorizing the path, she shut off her scroll and began walking in the direction of the closest Rem-mart, Ren following close behind.

"So, why did you want to go fishing?" Ren asked.

"I've never done it before. And I guess you got through to me," lying about how the actual reason was because Blake was a very hungry cat faunus that was deprived of her favorite food for months now.

"You've never gone fishing before?"

She nodded. As a child, she didn't have access to the tools to fish; she either tried to catch them with her hands (which never worked), or she stole for food.

"I can teach you. It's not that hard. I feel that you'll get the hang of it rather quickly."

"Thank you." She smiled at the gesture of kindness, but she didn't do anything else. Her eyes forward, she turned again onto Main St. The sidewalks were busy with people, chatting and strolling, some hand in hand, arm in arm, or alone. Families were a common sight as well, babies in strollers or children holding hands with their parents.

To Blake and Ren, it served only as a sad reminder to their parents.

After a few more minutes of walking, she stopped. "Here." She looked up to confirm, and she was correct. Rem-mart, in big white letters, shone in her eyes. She walked pasted the automated door, and immediately walked towards the fishing section. Ren followed, eyes still narrowed in thought as to why Blake wanted to go fishing so badly.

She says it's because she's never done it before, but she nearly sprang out of her seat when I presented the option. Perhaps she enjoys the outdoors more than she lets on? Ren walked slowly to Blake's location, where she was currently baffled by all of the fishing-related items, picking up a basket on the way and dropping some anti-mosquito spray into the basket. He was still painfully oblivious to the true reason for why Blake wanted to go fishing.

Poor, poor Ren.

How are there so many of these things? She picked one up, and looked at it. Then looked at the others. They all look the freaking same! They're just different lengths and colors!

She put down the one she was holding, and went to another one. At least this one looks nice. It was mainly black, but it had purple highlights on some sort of spinny thing on the side that vaguely reminded her of Myrtenaster's rotating dust chamber.

"Hello, are you looking for something in particular today?" The voice came from a dark skinned male human, wearing khakis and a white dress shirt and a red tie. The employee looked cheery, but his eyes looked tired, and there were tiny bags under his eyes.

Blake was still holding the fishing rod when her eyes flickered between the salesman and the items on the wall.

"Why are there so many?"

The sales person was taken aback. They didn't really know why there were so many different kinds of fishing poles; they were there to guide people and sell stuff, offering them empty facts that they didn't even know were true or not, then hope to sell it.

"Well, uh, variety is a very important thing to have in a wonderful store such as Rem-mart!"

"You didn't answer my question." The salesperson just opened and closed their mouth a few times.

"Uhm. Lemme go get my manager." Before the skittish man could run off, she grabbed onto his arm.

"Hold on a second. Tell me," she shoves the fishing rod she was holding into his chest, "is this a good fishing rod?"

He looked like a combination of scared and nervous, lip quivering and voice shaking as he spoke, looking down at the rod as if it were a sword being shoved into his hands, then the surprisingly strong grip that the teenager had. "U-u-u-uh, y-yes that-that, this- this is a good rod." She took the rod back, let go, and made a motion for him to leave. The salesperson took the opportunity with gusto, and ran in any direction that wasn't Blake.

A few moments later, Ren turned the corner with a basket of mosquito spray, along with a cooler with built in ice dust, and what seemed to be assorted food items. He saw Blake holding a fishing rod, and he smiled, speaking up.

"I see you've found one." Walking over, he took note of the color scheme. "Looks good." He gestured to the rack on his left. "You're probably wondering why there's so many."

"Yeah."

"It'd take a while. There's differences in the grip, length of the rod, flexibility, and it even depends on the type of fish you're planning on catching. Now, the ideal-"

Blake sighed to herself. This is going to take a while, isn't it.

After a small lecture that Blake pretended she heard, it turns out that the rod she picked was perfect for what they were going to do anyway. It wasn't too short like a rod meant for bigger game, and it wasn't too long either. After waking up from her near-dozing state and they were outside, her eyes went to the other bag in Ren's hands, holding bug-repellent and other assorted items such as lures, baits, and sunglasses, which Ren had to force into the basket. Blake didn't like to wear sunglasses as she thought they limited her peripheral vision, but he explained that if she planned on catching any fish, especially mid-day in spring, it would be extremely bright with sunlight being reflected on water. He went on to list various proven scientific facts and trials about eye health until Blake had relented. At the end, it all added up to about 200 lien, and Blake thanked herself in her mind for grabbing enough.

"So, where to now?" She asked.

"We catch another airbus to the agricultural district."

"The agricultural district?" She repeated, readjusting her grip on her fishing rod.

"That's where the lake is. And it's not too far from the pad. It's a popular place, but I have a place that only Nora and I know about."

Blake checked the time. It was now 11:15. "The next airbus leaves in five minutes. Think we can make it?"

He looked at her and deadpanned. "We're hunters-in-training at Beacon. Can we?"

She shot back a sarcastic look. "I don't know, I was asking you, oh great fishing god."

His shoulders visibly shook a bit as he chuckled a bit to himself again, garnering a small smile from Blake as well. "We'd better get moving." He said, feet already moving a faster in order to catch the air bus that would seal his fate for the next eight hours.

Little did he know, that after he started walking in front of Blake, her smile turned into something more sinister. More feral, teeth bared as if she were preparing for a hunt.

All in due time, my little fishies. I'm coming for you, and I will enjoy eating you whole...

She lowered her head slightly and let a small cackle escape from her lips before walking a bit faster to catch up to Ren's longer strides. She wasn't a house cat anymore.

She was a wildcat on the hunt for prey. And she was feeling ravenous today.

An hour and a half had passed, and Ozpin simply couldn't bear the taste of his normal coffee anymore. He was craving the pebbles, addicted even though it was only his first experience. But he himself had no way to get the rocks, as he had a reputation and image to maintain. Word of the Headmaster chipping rocks off of the walls of his own prestigious academy wouldn't go down very well with the Valean council.

So, he took to standing outside, keeping an eye out for any students that he knew he could trust with this important task. He had decided to leave his mug at his office, its presence only serving to remind him of that godly drink that he had earlier that morning. When students said their polite hello's, Ozpin barely noticed them. His eyes, when they weren't looking for someone to help him fuel his addiction, were affixed to the stone of the academy. He went through numerous reasons and explanations for why the stone had, A) turned into a pearl, and B) made his coffee taste like heaven in a liquid. But nothing came to mind.

However, when he saw Team CFVY, he chuckled at the irony of the situation before calling out for their leader's name.

mah notes: just to let you guys know, there will be five arcs in this story, one for each respective team member of RWBY. the last one is Ren taking them all on, at the same time.

also, i'm a bit nervous about Weiss, but i'll make it work. you shouldn't beacon-cerned.

eh? eh?

get it?

guys?

also, the irony at the end is that CFVY's team name is pronounced "coffee."