I'm never on time with these things…
But yes, my complimentary RWBY work that I do for every volume's release is here And this time, a special treat in this being a multi-chapter! Just a short work, but here you have it.
Gotta type up the other chapters, but I should have it all out by Monday night. As per my usual, creator's commentary will be at the bottom. I hope you all enjoy!
It was no Beacon, the people of Mistral could be grateful for that much. But even so, the fact remained that one of the great huntsman academies had been attacked. And not even a year after that travesty in Vale. The populace was understandably unraveling.
A group of teens settled on a single long bench, bowls of rice and meat cradled in their laps. The vendor's stand lacked room for seating, but its reputation for good food and proximity to a modest square made up the difference. The group of five began blowing steam off their meals, a helpful waitress coming around with drinks.
"The hustle is the same, but the atmosphere has taken a dark turn."
Nora lifted her head, turning to regard her dark haired teammate. Ren's gaze drifted across the square, taking a long sip of tea. She too began a slow scan pf the area.
The large space held many more benches beside their own, both lining the plaza and spaced throughout the center. Barely any were occupied, the passersby rushing this way and that. Those less concerned with making haste were handled roughly by the surging crowds.
"They're antsy, its hard to blame them." The hammer wielder turned her attention to their waitress, accepting her drink. "We've got a history of being turbulent, but I've never seen the city this riled up before. It's crazy..."
The waitress passed out the last cup, the blonde young man accepting with a warm smile. "It was the same all over Vale, even my home town was pure chaos. People were doing whatever they could to snatch up supplies."
"In the wake of disaster, people will show their true colors."
Jaune and the others looked to the figure on the far left side of the bench. Her tanned, freckled features were downcast, staring at the bowl of rice in her lap. A hand softly grasped the brunette's shoulder, her cat-eared neighbor watching with concern.
"I agree," said Ren, gulping down a piece of shrimp, "but that doesn't always mean you see people at their worst."
Nora relaxed her glare, satisfied with her partner's words. The red head promptly began shoveling food into her mouth.
Ilia nodded at the huntsman in training, "I guess that I, of all people, shouldn't be so quick to judge."
Blake gave her old friend's shoulder a squeeze, "You're fine, Ilia. And we're gonna do all we can to help, it is why we came here."
"What are your parents and the other faunus doing right now anyway," Nora questioned after downing her lemonade, gesturing to their waitress for a refill.
"In simplest terms, damage control." Blake capped off with a tired sigh, lifting a forkful of rice and fish to her lips.
Ilia groaned. She'd known Blake for a long time and could pick up on her subtle anger. The chameleon girl herself was frankly enraged by the situation.
Mistral had, as their server noted, always been a tumultuous region. One such example was their attitude towards the faunus. The kingdom was mostly quite cold towards them though severity varied widely all across the continent. Leonardo Lionheart was a small push against that, a headmaster of one of the great huntsman academies who was also a proud faunus. The sight of one of their own in such an esteemed position was an inspiration for many, even those outside of Mistral.
And in one night that pillar had crumbled to dust.
"Bastard," huffed Ilia, taking a swift draw of her drink. She knew she was being hypocritical, again. Who was she to take issue with another's act of betrayal? It had taken her nearly dying and being saved by one of her targets for Ilia to realize how insane she'd been acting.
"You got that right."
Blake, who'd had her worries focused on Ilia, snapped her gaze to Jaune at that statement. Nora's mood soured, a feat remarkably replicated by her stoic partner. Jaune wasn't looking at anyone, going back to his meal as soon as his piece was said.
Ilia eyed the boy, her high ponytail slipping over her shoulder as she leaned forward. His teammates seemed a little perplexed, Blake allowing more of her annoyance to show. But somehow… Ilia felt like she got what Jaune was saying.
Leo was a liar. In the face of people he called allies, friends even, he hid truths and spun facts like it was second nature to him. He'd sent countless hunters, many of them his own students, to their deaths. He threw himself in with a literal cabal of evil because he was just that scared of dying.
Ilia hoped she crossed paths with him in the afterlife, just for the opportunity to spit in his face. From what investigators gathered, Leo was likely in the enemy's pocket for years. Years of killing his own comrades. Fear just wasn't a valid excuse.
She found herself nodding slowly. The blonde knight wasn't looking, but he caught it in his periphery. She could just kind of tell.
"Alright," burst Nora, "recess time is ending, first to finish their bowl gets to 'supervise' our next task!"
The redhead didn't waste any time, diving into her beef dish with savage zeal. Ren, far more composed, nonetheless was taking much larger bites of his own meal. Blake's hurried pace was a bit more of a surprise, but considering she'd ordered the "seafarer's special..."
Jaune offered a short chuckle, shaking his head as he ate at a more sedate pace. Ilia smiled softly at the scene. She'd missed the days of easy friendship like this.
Everything fell apart all at once. Nora was just accepting her refill, ready to wash down her mouthful of grub, when the sound of gunfire reached them. As a stray round snapped overhead, the hyperactive huntress tackled their waitress to the ground.
Immediately the others hopped to their feet, weapons drawn. The already churning masses were worked up into a frenzy, an explosion of bodies charging in every direction. People were getting knocked down, being trampled.
Blake and Ren shot forward, piercing through the crowd to reach downed civilians. Nora ushered their lithe waitress into cover before moving to join the rescue efforts.
Jaune snapped his shield open, drawing it up before dashing into the human flood. Straight towards the source of the persisting gunshots.
In five long strides, Ilia was right on his rear.
The duo was across the square in seconds, carving through the crowd with a combination of brute force and Jaune's thunderous roars of "Move!"
A shop sat in the upper right corner of the angular plaza. On a good day, the building could generously be called "second hand." It wasn't just the aspect of the business itself being a pawn shop; the structure overall was an obvious fixer-upper even before the bullet holes and shattered windows makeover.
Jaune pushed passed a shrieking pedestrian with his free hand, still holding his shield in front of him. Something desperate and human shaped dove through the large window flanking the right side of the store's main entrance.
A pair of rounds chased the lunging man out of the building, both pinging off of Jaune's shield as he ran closer. An unfortunate civilian took a ricochet to the side, flopping to the floor in a gasping heap. Ilia broke off her advance.
The shot woman started to flail when the faunus girl reached her. Ilia slammed her hands down on either side of the woman, locking her limbs in place with her superior strength. She then took a knees to the face from a panicked passerby, another catching their foot on her legs and tripping through the crowd. Ilia held, continuing to act as a living shield.
A hand grasped her shoulder, "I'm a doctor, let me see!" Ilia rolled off her charge, rising to her feet and brandishing her weapon. A surge of static along her rapier's blade deterred the fleeing masses well enough for the moment.
The doctor, an older woman with darker skin, got to work tearing open the victim's blouse. She'd also managed to rope in a trio of young men to aid her, one already moving to take up Ilia's defensive posture.
Jaune's voice hollered over the pandemonium, Ilia spotting him crouched beside the guy who'd jumped out the window. He seemed to be fretting over the downed young man. Ilia nodded to the guy taking up her spot before making a swift dash to Jaune.
"You saw where they went?" Jaune had his shield up and oriented towards the shop, his free hand lifting the clerk to a seated position.
"They tore through the store and headed out the back. Leads into an alley, from there its a bunch of winding backstreets." The blonde knight tsked, Ilia stepping to a halt beside him.
"This guy okay? I heard what he was saying about the shooters." Jaune and Ilia glanced down as the boy gave them a thumbs up. He quickly went back to nursing his very sore shoulder.
"Okay," Jaune started, "stay behind me, they might still be in there."
The pair marched through the main entrance, shielder first. An initial scan of the shop showed it looked even worse than the panic outside would indicate. They'd completely tossed this place, it was almost inspiring how thorough they were in destroying every shelf and every item set upon them. Jaune didn't even want to process how they'd made time to tag the place. Even the ceiling had some… artwork attached.
Ilia did her best to quash her rage. She was a good deal more concerned with the contents of the graffiti, some very negative statements about the faunus. The mostly dead girl with the fox tail bleeding out off to the side, just next to checkout, certainly accentuated the sentiment.
"Fuck," Ilia was on her fellow faunus in a heartbeat, checking for wounds. It would have been faster to find the parts that weren't broken, the shooters had taken one or more blunt instruments to her frame with zealous fervor. They hadn't bothered with bullets, it wouldn't have been personal enough.
Jaune stood guard over them, gaze gliding over the back of the demolished pawn shop. "Is she-"
"Maka! Oh fuck, Maka!" Ilia drew her weapon on the speaker. The guy who'd flung himself through the window minutes prior had made his way back in. If he was concerned at having a sword pointed at him, it wasn't showing. "I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry!"
The boy was at the fallen girl's side in an instant, his own injury forgotten. They both wore the same tan smocks, marking them both as employees. The guy was knelt over her, holding her face in his hands.
More shots rang out towards the back of the building, sounding like they came from the outside. Jaune stepped further into the vandalized store as Ilia turned her focus back to the pair on the floor. The fox girl was breathing, barely.
"There's a medic just outside, help will be here in a moment. Keep an eye on her until then, okay?"
The boy nodded without facing her, repeating harshly whispered apologies to the girl beneath him. Ilia stood, turning back to the breach leading out into the main square as she blew out a shrill whistle. The old medic and her cohorts perked at the sound, turning to the storefront as Ilia waved them inside.
The chameleon girl didn't wait to see if they were coming. She hoped she had done enough for these two, but now she had to catch up to Jaune.
The sword and board user had made it to the backrooms. If the darkened space had been tossed like the main area, it was hard to tell. Place seemed like a natural pile of clutter, though some spots were worse than others.
Ilia rounded an impressive tower of brass doo-dads just as her fellow good samaritan twisted the doorknob leading outside. He gestured her to stay put before slowly leaning his weight against the door, pressing it open.
A hail of rounds streaked in from Jaune's front, the blonde ducking behind his shield as a stray shot drilled into the door. Ilia pounced as Jaune shouldered through the portal, throwing the door against the wall as he charged outside.
Her brown skin and darker hair took on a stone appearance, like sun-dried concrete and fresh asphalt respectively. Ilia dashed in low, racing behind Jaune as the boy continued his run up the alleyway. Her whipsword was already out and glowing yellow; the young huntsman made a show of drawing his own blade from the top of his sheath-shield. Shots started raining in faster.
'Variable firing speed,' the faunus girl noted, 'some sort of semi-automatic then. Low caliber if the sound is anything to go by, probably a handgun.'
The corridor was quite narrow, Jaune's raised shield effectively blocking every shot. This in no way dissuaded the gunman who continued blowing through rounds. Soon enough the rhythmic hail of fire came to a halt as the handgun's mag ran dry.
Ilia capitalized on the lull, dashing towards the left wall of the alley and then leaping up the vertical surface. The girl hurdled onto a hinged awning over a long window, bounding to the far end before leaping at the edge of a lower section of rooftop.
She had one hand on the ledge, her body swinging upwards when a pair of shots whizzed past. The shooter had managed a reload. Seeing a more susceptible target, they opened up readily.
By this point, Jaune had reached the base of a set of steps the shooter was already partway up. He'd be in pouncing distance in less than two seconds considering his pace.
The gunman reoriented. His pistol barked wildly as the now frantic assailant fled upwards, firing with reckless abandon. Ilia rolled onto the rooftop, popping to her feet as she ran adjacent to the corridor below. Her perceptive eyes spied the shooter's free hand reaching into the breast pouch of his padded vest.
"Jaune, grenade!"
The rushing shieldbearer peaked over the top of his barrier, spotting the incoming explosive as it sailed through the air. The gunman had turned completely from his pursuers, his full effort committed to running away. He almost fumbled the fresh mag as he worked to reload his weapon.
Jaune stomped to a halt, raising his shield. The thunk of the grenade bouncing off its polished surface was all the cue he needed to crouch low, curling himself into as tight a space as possible. The polished base of his shield clacked as its wielder slammed it into the ground, pouring as much aura as he could into the barrier.
Crocea Mors burned with a radiant white light. This dazzling spectacle was instantly overshadowed as the cylindrical grenade unleashed a blinding burst and a deafening bang, engulfing that entire section of the passage.
Reaching the top of the staircase, the gunman whirled back around, weapon raised and ready to blast shots at the bewildered blonde. His sights shot up instantly as a feral cry rang out from above. Ilia, ears ringing and eyes closed, had lunged off the rooftops.
Lightning Lash, her whipsaber, flowed with yellow neon along its length. The shooter's pistol gave several hurried barks as the extended sword slashed down. A pair of rounds pegged the falling faunus, one glancing off her left shoulder, drawing a sharp line of blood. The second bullet caught Ilia center mass, the small round shattering against the point she'd concentrated most of her aura.
Ilia's blade sparked against the wall and ground just beside her target. The shooter flinched, drawing back as the electricity coursing through the weapon broke free in a violent flash. He was only just beginning to turn back around when a miniature freight train ran into him at full speed.
Jaune threw every ounce of his considerable strength into the assailant. There was a satisfying pop as the young huntsman's shield slammed into the gunman, launching him into the air. A clattering sound rang out as the gun flew off to the side, well out of reach of the shooter. He came to a painful halt, landing on his side atop the jagged edges of a small flight of steps.
Pained screams tore free of the downed man. Jaune ignored them, using his foot to shove the gunman onto his belly as he collapsed his shield. Jaune drew the man's arms behind his back, cutting off an outraged cry by driving his sword into the stone just beside his head.
Ilia landed poorly, scrambling on all fours as she collected her breath. Aura or not, that shot at her core had stung. The chameleon girl crawled quickly to her feet, jogging over to where Jaune had the shooter pinned.
"Tell me where your buddies went! Don't try to be smart, I know there's more than just you!"
The captive groaned. "Wouldn't want to be too smart, conversation might go over your head."
Fist met flesh as Jaune sent a wide swing to the side of the gunman's head. Ilia paused a little more than an arm's length away, passively watching the scene unfold. The blonde swordsman snatched the thug's jaw, forcing them eye to eye, his free hand holding him by the vest.
"Let's try that again. Tell me where-"
Jaune, still with the gunman's chin in his grasp, turned his head aside as the jackass made a valiant attempt to spit in the boy's face. In return, Jaune shoved the shooter back into the concrete steps.
The criminal yelped in pain. Ilia snorted at the display, barely able to hold back from chuckling. The downed assailant fixed his attention on her.
"Was that good for you, beast," the gunman seethed, hissing in pain, "Little savage like you gets off seeing a human in pain?"
At this point Ilia dropped her sense of humor. "I don't think a spree shooter has much room to criticize a 'little savage'."
The gunman smiled through a small coughing fit. "I didn't hear any denial in that."
Ilia fixed the prone thug with a hollow grin, her eyes dark and empty, "No, you didn't."
Faded blue jeans and a tattered white sneaker filled the shooter's vision. Jaune had stomped down next to the guy's head, blocking his view of the faunus girl. With a tired sigh, the downed man turned his gaze to the blonde knight.
"Where did your buddies go? We'll find them eventually anyway, you can help yourself by cooperating."
"What? You're gonna play 'good cop' now? Trying to appeal to my 'rationale' after beating my face in!? You're such a fucking amateur."
"And you're a criminal. You tore that shop to pieces, threw everyone into panic, shot wildly into the crowd, and beat down that cashier. All that just so you could steal something, don't you think this city's had enough?"
Any trace of discomfort vanished as the shooter broke into vicious laughter. Jaune had to step back from the sheer volume.
"Stealing!? You think this was about fucking money!? You're more of a fool than you look, blondie!"
Jaune stared down at the cackling man, thoroughly unimpressed. Ilia's similar disposition towards the downed criminal began to steadily shift. A mask of simmering wrath overtook the girl's features.
"Faunus," Ilia breathed, "The crowd was at random, but you took your time on the cashier. Because she was a faunus. You tore the shop up for a similar reason, I bet."
The shooter gave a long whistle, "Well, well, well, a little spark of insight in that sub-human brain of yours. The owner is the same as that fox bitch, bunch of animals playing dress up, pretending they're fucking people."
At this point the gunman turned back to Jaune, "You were right when you said this kingdom's had enough. Enough of these lies. We're all in this together? We're all part of the same community? Don't toss me that bullshit.
"Humans have been at the top of the tower since ancient times. You think these fucking beastkin re gonna be satisfied with being on the same level as us? Nah, they mean to dominate us, like a hound humping on some weak dog. Basic animal instinct, you see?"
Ilia's hair flashed scarlet, her skin turning blood red. She spoke in harsh breaths, barely holding back her rage, "Typical ignorance. People like you are the reason the White Fang became what it is today."
"I don't need to hear anything from you, pet." The seething chameleon closed her eyes, doing her best to stay calm at the gunman's choice of slur. "Lying's as easy as breathing for your kind. You think a moral person would spend the last couple years sending their own students to their deaths?"
Jaune looked away, his stance going rigid. The press in Mistral was swift and merciless, digging up every detail on Haven's assault and the circumstances leading up to it. The full story was up in multiple outlets by the morning after.
"Lionheart was scum," Jaune began, still staring at the floor, "that's not in debate. But it wasn't about being a faunus. It's not a secret that he was under orders from the same bastards that attacked Beacon."
"And who else was present at both events? Let me think…" The shooter offered a menacing grin, rolling his eyes in a massive arc off of the blonde swordsman and onto Ilia. "Ah yes, the White Fang. That just a 'convenient coincidence'?"
Ilia had had enough. In three short steps she brushed past Jaune, stomping onto the thug's left shoulder. To his credit, the man didn't beg, only a pained groan in response to her efforts.
"Faunus came, in droves, to disrupt the White Fang at Haven. Students, human and faunus, fought side by side at Beacon to save civilians and protect their school. People fucking died, and the only thing you took away from all that was this conspiracy shit!?"
The gunman's response would wind up being his ultimate mistake.
"The best warriors in the world needing help from petting zoo rejects, that's the saddest fact of all. If they were too weak to do it on their own, those scrub hunters should have at least had the decency to die in battle."
Ilia could almost taste the next words coming out of the criminal's mouth. She had halfway turned to Jaune when the man continued.
"Like that disappointment, Pyrrha Nikos-"
The faunus girl hopped back on pure instinct, ironically. Crocea Mors, both the blade and shield, clattered to the ground as the young huntsman fell upon the helpless shooter. For the first time, genuine surprise captured the criminal's features.
And then Jaune started battering his face, raining punches in an absolute storm of fury.
Ilia stood back. Once the fifth smack of knuckles across flesh sounded, Ilia crouched down to get a better perspective.
Jaune had not lost control. Jaune had strangled the life out of his own humanity and hurled the corpse into the sea. A roar of anger tore free of his throat as Jaune continued to crush the man's skull beneath his fists. He knocked the thug's flailing limbs aside, powering through the meager resistance. After the fourth hit, those struggles stopped altogether.
Jaune kept on pounding.
Ilia's complexion gradually shifted back to its normal tan, her hair darkening to its usual brown. The rage had left her around punch number nine, fading to a sense of morbid curiosity. It reminded her of that old saying about a train accident: horrible to watch but difficult to look away from.
Jaune had gone completely silent after the eighth hit, save for huffs of exertion. The only sound now echoing through the sparse alleyway were the repeating smacks of skin against skin.
"That's enough." The combination of the calm tone and firm grasp on his shoulders halted Jaune. Ilia pulled back, hoisting the blonde to full height. Peeking past his side, she took a long look at the end result of Jaune's frenzy.
The shooter's face could scarcely be called as such anymore. The bastard's skull was one massive, purpling bruise dotted with streaks of blood. A shattered bit of tooth sat on the ground nearby, the only indicator that that particular gap in his head may have been his mouth.
Tortured wheezing emanated from the bruised lump, likely the only verbal communication he'd be giving for quite some time. All in all, it was a pathetic – if not horrific – scene.
Ilia did not smile. A few years ago, she likely would have laughed at such a scene. In the present she felt nothing for the ruined man. The guy was the lowest form of filth, regardless of her own shaky thoughts on humans. Having such blatant barbarism turned back on him was a rather poetic form of justice.
The problem was seeing Jaune like this. One of Blake's friends, one of her human friends. Ilia held them to a higher standard, the people who stood beside her former love during her time in hiding. Of course she wasn't ignorant of the fact that everyone had their demons, but…
"What happened here!?"
Ilia turned at the sudden call. Blake approached, both halves of Gambol Shroud at the ready. A light sheen of sweat covered her face, evidence of Blake's own struggles elsewhere. Ren and Nora looked to be in a similar state, though Ilia noted the hammer master's right sleeve was shredded at the shoulder, the skin beneath marred with red welts.
Three additional figures followed their friends. The familiar face of the old doctor was one of them, the aging woman moving with a surprising amount of hustle. She frankly outsped the pair of uniformed officers running down the alley with her.
"Ilia, what happened?"
Her breath hitched. She couldn't help her reaction to those words, to that tone. Blake had reached their little "scene," Ren and Nora a moment behind. The cat faunus had taken a second or two to gather details, turning shortly to face her fellow former terrorist.
Blake's question carried a quiet accusation, her underlying sense of understanding negated by just how tired the girl sounded. Ilia was crushed.
"I did this."
Before the chameleon girl could begin to organize her thoughts, Jaune spoke up in her stead. She openly stared at the blonde beside her, an action mirrored by his two female friends though with a further degree of shock. Ren looked to his leader for only a moment before locking a solemn gaze upon the battered gunman.
Ilia felt her frame jostle, Jaune moving her out of the way as the doctor and the two officers fell upon the downed criminal. She allowed her handling, her expression blank as she receded into thought.
Having only met a few days ago, Ilia did not have the firmest grasp on Blake's friends and teammates. She could surmise that Ren was quiet but thoughtful, his partner Nora a ball of random energy. There was a deeper layer, she was sure, but they seemed like genuine people.
That was not to say that Jaune was not genuine. In fact, Ilia felt the blonde knight might have been the most innocent of their lot. He just carried such a youthful mindset, like a kid raised on stories of great heroes.
But there was a darkness lurking beneath that. And it was one that Ilia was well acquainted with: the shadow born of loss. You hate the world, fate, whatever you can point blame at for taking away that which can never be returned.
You hate yourself for being inadequate, too weak to hold on to the people you hold precious. Eventually, the darkness always finds an outlet.
She was surprised that he owned it. That's what it all boiled down to and it frankly stunned the girl. Making excuses, shrugging it off, returning questions with anger, these were the expected reactions. They were the same ones Ilia herself used when others got to prying.
Jaune… Jaune Arc was a very different kind of man.
By now, if the name alone hadn't spelled things out for you, you know that this little piece concerns Ilia integrating herself into the remnants (ha!) of Team JNPR. I honestly thought with the amount of focus they'd put on her that this would have been the situation in canon. Certainly would have been more on board with Ilia in place of Oscar or Maria. Hell, Qrow doesn't really need to stick around with the main cast.
On to other things, let's shine a spotlight on our girl. I characterize Ilia as someone who is sort of "in recovery." She's doing her best to change her views as well as her thinking/emotions, but it is a process. She used to giving into her wrath and, as we see, she does slip back into it time and again. Her flaws continue to rear their heads so the guilt she feels regarding her past is persistent. Ilia puts that energy towards being constructive, helping others, but readily without concern for herself.
Basically about the avenue I feel she should take in canon.
So timeline wise, this takes place in between volumes five and six. I wanted to set something in Mistral that would give us a little peek at the city itself, specifically the state of things post The "Battle" of Haven. Mistral in this work is a turbulent region with a lot of mixing cultures and attitudes. Something like the premier huntsman academy of the nation being taken down by its own headmaster would certainly stir the pot.
Leo's betrayal has far reaching consequences that are a driving force behind the conflict here. Having such a high powered position being offered to a faunus was meant to be a step forward in the eyes of the people. Learning that he, in turn, used that authority to purge the nation's hunters, people he himself helped train and worked beside… Well, it certainly helps paint some specific narratives.
Faunus prejudice has been in the series from the start and, frankly, it's not something that's really explored. This is in no way meant to be a deep piece in terms of philosophy/attitudes and the like, it's mostly just motivation for the antagonists. But if I'm gonna have a scene where the bad guys have dialogue with the protags, then they're gonna lay out their beliefs. There's never an excuse for "blanket," indiscriminate violence, but I feel it's worthwhile to get a view from every angle. If nothing else it helps to flesh out the world some.
Let's get onto Jaune since he is our second most important character.
He mirrors Ilia in a lot of ways. He's still hung up over a loss he suffered, one that was quite recent and, arguably, very much due to his own inadequacy. He's trying his best to improve and become "of worth" but he hits a lot of the same pitfalls as Ilia in his attempts. Jaune keeps himself in check a fair bit better than her on the surface, but that's more because he's not in the habit of really "feeling" hatred in the same way. But once that fucking landmine gets stepped on, whoo-boy…
I do like moments where my characters lose control, they're always fun to write. I can't help but hurt the ones I love…
But yeah, Jaune and Ilia have fairly similar paths they're walking. Something the chameleon girl herself is taking notice of. We're gonna have a small heart to heart with them next entry, far from the deepest dive but… a little something. And don't worry, Ren and Nora will be along for the ride soon enough.
I chose not to make Blake more involved since I wanted this more centered on Ilia and JNR, but I feel like she's kind of "needed" in these early bits as kind of an anchor for the chameleon girl in interacting with the other former prospects of Beacon. She'll get one more snippet later, but mostly she'll stay a tertiary character at best here.
I'll add one more thing: I consider this story to be in the same sort of "universe" as my other RWBY oneshots (Real Power, War of Dawn, Passing Conversation) but this piece in particular requires no prior knowledge from those works. I do have a small inclination for a "proper" RWBY Rewrite sort of project, separate from the "Real Power Verse", but it's sitting on the backburner for now.
That said, let me bring these author's notes to a close. Next part coming tomorrow.