It had been two months since Pyrrha had fought and lost against Roman and Neo. The counter-raid had been successful in accomplishing its goal of slowing the White Fang down, but with the return of their master thief, they had begun conducting more high-scale raids, seizing larger quantities of dust in an attempt to make up for lost time. The tactics used by team RWBY were beginning to be less effective as more dust storages and shipments were being hit than they could keep up with. They still picked away at edges of the operation, but as the operations grew larger, their impact had lessened dramatically. After going so hard for so long, the huntresses had to call a time out, just a single night to rest and recover. The endless cycle of classes, training, counter-raiding, sleep, repeat, had begun to take its toll on the group. Attempting to enjoy a moment's reprieve, team RWBY and team JNPR had met in the city of Vale for a night of relaxation, trying to take their minds off of the task with which they relentlessly threw themselves at.
Yang had been the one to propose the idea night on the town. A good meal at a restaurant, some drinks with the food, moving from dinner to a club in the seedier part of town ("It's ok, I know the owner."). The night's reprieve was welcome, even if the activities were all ones that Pyrrha was unaccustomed to. Most of her life until now had been spent training, studying, photo shoots, and endorsement deals, pretty much everything possible except having a social life. And while the idea of going out and relaxing was something that she understood, the actual process behind it had blown her mind. When the blonde had suggested the idea, Pyrrha had illogically expected it to be a simple affair of just dinner with a few drinks and that the "club" Yang referred to was something along the lines of a country club. Pyrrha recalled being surprised when her orange-haired teammate had grabbed her by the arm and yanked her into town to "buy something fanciful. Or dangerous. Ooh ooh, or both. Yes both," and then spending the next two hours going from clothing store to clothing store to weapons store then back to clothing store. The end result had been surprising to the redhead. As she looked at herself in the full-length mirror in JNPR's room, she realized that she liked the culmination of the day's running around.
The dress was simple, yet elegant. Form-fitting, knee-length, the material was a soft cotton. Originally she had chosen this dress to get Nora off her back, but she hadn't realized the lengths that the Valkyrie was willing to go for this night on the town. After picking the dress, Pyrrha had been dragged to a seamstress or three, each performing a slight modification here and there. The end result was slit up the left side that reached her thigh, golden embroidery along the edges all the way around. The simplified design ran up her sides as well as along her shoulders towards her collarbone, where it danced and dipped, tracing the outlines of her modest cleavage before conjoining into her emblem resting below the bottom of the cut. Atop the symbol sat the fragment of Crocea Mors, now on public display for the first time since its theft. She wore a pair of black leather boots, the supple material covering everything from just under her knees downward. And in looking in the mirror, Pyrrha was reminded of something. She saw the person she used to be. The girl that had worried about her public appearance, that had used product after product to look how the public thought she should. The way that she had been before entering Beacon, before the White Fang had torn it all down. And for the first time, that thought didn't invade her memory and make her entire being cry for vengeance. For the first time in a long time, she was able to look at the coming night and wonder what fun adventures it would bring with it, ones that didn't deal with the pain of her memories. Eighteen years she had never known the peace that came with a night out with friends, the past twelve months serving as a reminder that there was always something to be done, and now she stood here, modeling for herself and Nora, reveling in the idea of taking some time to just be herself. Tonight, she was not a huntress. Tonight she was not a celebrity. Tonight, she was a normal 18 year old girl, going out with her friends. For tonight, she refused to be Pyrrha Nikos, child star turned tournament champion turned huntress, but rather being Pyrrha Nikos, girl.
And as she sat at the black bar, drink in hand, she realized that this was actually fun. Here she sat, oblivious to the problems of the world around her, worrying only about the amount of liquid in her cup and lien in her bank account. Well, not really worried about the second, her sponsors had made sure that she had enough funding for whatever she saw fit, but this didn't quite seem to line up with that idea. This money was supposed to go towards training equipment, trainers, any sort of clothing geared towards combat and bettering herself as a hunter, any pieces needed to improve her weapons, and here she sat, in a dive bar with a dance floor, drinking on Marshmallow Pete's tab. And as she sat there, she wondered what Pete liked to drink after a day's work. Would he prefer a good stout or a fine bourbon? Did Pete even drink? She made a note in her scroll to look that up later. Looking up from her own drink, Pyrrha took in her surroundings.
Ruby sat a few chairs away, face-down on the bar, continuing to drink through a complex series of straws that interlinked between her mouth and her cup. Honestly, the girl could have been a bit more efficient with it. Removal of a straw here and there would let the drink reach her mouth that much faster. Wait, wasn't Ruby underage? How did she even get in here? Of course, the answer to the question occupied the seat next to the younger girl, drink in one hand, gesticulating wildly as she told another story. As Yang's tale reached its crescendo, a small thud was heard alongside the bass from the speakers, indicating that Blake had followed in her leader's footsteps, head thumping against the bar next to her white russian, ribbon slightly askew. Blake's hands moved quickly enough to reposition the accessory into a safe spot before most people noticed, but Pyrrha Nikos was not most people, catching a glimpse of the cat ears on her friend's head. Resisting the urge to walk over and pet the kitty, she instead focused her attention on the impossible event past the faunus. Ruby's reaction to alcohol had been expected, Yang seemed to be completely in her element, and even Blake's descent from sobriety seemed normal. But Pyrrha found it damn near impossible to tear her eyes away from the sight in front of her, much less comprehend the hows and whys. Had it been Nora that held her gaze (Where was that girl?), Pyrrha could have understood it. If it was Yang on the bar, it would have almost been expected.
But staring at the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company as she danced on a fucking bar was not something that Pyrrha had been prepared for. Even the fact that the word fuck had crossed her mind when she tried so hard not to swear didn't compare to the sight. Dressed in a white skirt that cost much more than it appeared to, glyph patterns stitched into a pattern around the girl's form, Weiss quite eloquently showed that she knew much more than just textbooks as she moved in time with the music.
"Hey Cereal Girl, you gonna finish that drink or what?" Yang yelled from her seat. "Next round is on you and I need a refill. Blake too."
At the mention of her name, Blake lifted her head off the bar and nodded, the movement almost causing her to fall off the barstool. Righting herself again, Blake finished the drink in her and placed the cup on the bar, looking at Pyrrha expectantly.
'At least Ruby is trying to save my bank account,' Pyrrha thought as she placed the drink order. Strawberry sunrise for Yang, white Russian for Blake, double-shot rumplemintz for Weiss, rum and coke for herself. She watched as the bartender crafted each drink, bottles spinning as the proper ratio of alcoholic drink to non-alcoholic drink was added to each cup. With one final flourish, the barman laid each drink in front of its recipient, going so far as to put a non-alcoholic drink next to Ruby's head. Yang cheered as Blake quietly accepted her drink. Weiss stopped her movements to bend down provocatively as she scooped up the glass and downed its contents. Ruby made a few noises as she connected her new drink to the previous drink through yet another series of straws, probably not sure of what was in either one. Picking her glass up, Pyrrha excused herself to the ladies' room, drink quota having been filled.
As she walked, she looked at the crowd in the club. A bar as seedy as this one always had customers from all walks of life, and she realized what a shame it was that human and faunus alike could only gather in places such as this without having some sort of racial tension between them. In her walk, she noticed a pair of humans buying drinks for a couple of female faunus while chatting them up. Maybe they were working on their own sort of novelty card, but at least it was a step in the direction of getting people to see beyond what was right in front of them. A couple such folk had approached her earlier in the night, all trying to buy her a drink, each showing off more than the last. She had entertained them briefly, but in the end, Pyrrha had sent her would-be suitors away, clearly not looking for the same thing they had been.
Distracted by the crowd, Pyrrha didn't notice the girl until they bumped into each other. With a quick apology, Pyrrha continued onward towards the ladies' room, only glancing back as her hand reached the door handle. And as she looked back at the person she had bumped into, the short girl winked at her. Flattered, but not one to swing that way, Pyrrha just gave her a small wave, letting the girl with pink and brown hair escape into the crowd. And as she started to pull on the door, the realization hit her. Scanning the crowd again, this time with a purpose, Pyrrha saw her heading towards the exit. Initial course forgotten, Pyrrha released the handle and made her way towards the doors, dropping her drink off at a table along the way.
Stepping outside, Pyrrha quickly looked around the area. The night was warm, so the amount of people smoking outside the club obscured her vision, tendrils of burnt tobacco weaving their way towards the sky. Catching a glimpse of pink and brown heading into an alley, Pyrrha followed. She had never been the stealthiest person, but she knew how to tail a target. Ducking behind cover as she entered the alleyway, she watched as the girl moved nonchalantly down the space between buildings, heels echoing off the walls. Silently moving from cover to cover, Pyrrha followed her, doing her best to avoid the debris that covered the ground. After following the smaller girl for what felt like forever, Pyrrha turned a corner and found her target seated atop some crates piled against the wall, spinning her umbrella nonchalantly.
"You," Pyrrha spoke, her buzz starting to fade away as her battle-hardened senses fought for dominance. She pushed a few buttons on her scroll, staring down her enemy.
Turning her head to the side, Neo continued smiling, parasol pausing mid-spin.
"You winked at me."
The girl blushed slightly as she nodded.
"You tried to kill me," Pyrrha said.
Neo nodded again, casually moving her necklaces to the side, revealing the small scar from Akouo, grin never leaving her face.
"And now you're here to finish the job."
Neo paused, thoughtful for a second. Turning her head the other way, she continued to stare at the Spartan. She watched as the weapons locker smashed into the ground by the redhead, waiting as Pyrrha opened the container and began to don her equipment.
Lacking her (currently drunk) support mage, Pyrrha armed herself, the last encounter with the girl running through her mind. After their last raid, she learned that it hadn't been the girls' first encounter with the henchwoman. During the first encounter, they had learned the girl's name (Neo), and the second time Yang had fought her alone and lost, only being saved by a mysterious woman that seemed to completely overpower the girl.
Taking these facts into consideration, Pyrrha realized that without Weiss's aid, had a tough fight on her hands, one that would become infinitely more impossible should Roman or someone else show up to assist the smaller ice cream themed girl. She knew that she was stronger than Yang, especially in a one-on-one fight, but after hearing how easily Yang had been beaten and having fought Neo herself, she was apprehensive about how things would go. Pushing such thoughts from her mind, she finished readying herself, Neo having sat atop of the crates for the duration, one leg bouncing up and down impatiently as she waited. Hopping down from her perch, Neo grinned widely at the challenge in from of her.
Dashing from her location, Pyrrha assaulted the small girl in front of her, skills refined by years of training blurring with strikes and attacks learned from her brawler of a friend. Mixing traditional technique and improvised strikes, Pyrrha pushed her offense forward, not bothering to slow when the illusions shattered or she was struck by her opponent. Fighting Neo was something like fighting with Ruby and Blake at the same time. The smaller girl relied on her agility to avoid taking hits and responding with careful aim while Pyrrha used her own combination of weapon skill and raw strength to push her back. As Pyrrha's strikes shattered images, she had to immediately search out the smaller combatant, expecting an attack from any angle. As another illusion shattered, Pyrrha switched Milo into rifle form, firing the weapon upon sighting Neo, bullets being stopped by the strength of the girl's aura. Switching her weapon back, spear met parasol as Pyrrha pushed Neo back into close combat. From a distance, neither one was able to do any serious damage to the other, so the combatants had to engage each other directly in an attempt to emerge victorious. As Pyrrha pushed herself against Neo's umbrella defense, she understood why Torchwick had hired the girl. She was incredibly skilled, and for a criminal like him-
Torchwick. They key component to the breach. The human that had set out to destroy the lives of all the citizens in Vale. The man that had almost brought the city to its knees. The crime lord that had temporarily broken her, the ever-sharp reminder currently displayed for the world to see.
And this girl had defended him. She had held off a part of team RWBY, slowing them down enough that they couldn't stop the train in time. Had Yang been present for the fight with the masked chainsaw guy, they could have overpowered him and stopped Roman and the train before it reached its destination and kept her world intact. Which meant one thing.
This girl was just as guilty for Jaune's death as the rest of the White Fang, maybe even moreso. And in Pyrrha's Spartan mind, there was only one sentence for the crime. Death.
As the pair broke apart once again, Pyrrha felt her emotions rising inside her, a year of repression threatening to break the surface. And as the two combatants crashed again, Pyrrha pushed harder, throwing her opponent off balance. Technique rapidly gave way to rage, each attack becoming more reckless than the last, and yet the smaller girl was unable to respond appropriately to the ferocity, movements seeming to slow. And as Neo deflected the spear upwards with her parasol and kicked out at the redhead, she found herself unable to move her legs as an invisible force pulled her backwards into the wall of the alley. Using her semblance on the pieces of lead still in Neo's clothes, Pyrrha pinned the smaller girl against the wall. Vision turning red, Pyrrha saw nothing but the demise of an important part of the White Fang. Staring down her target, she took the step from the cliffs of her morality and fired Milo towards the girl, spear aimed true at where her heart should have been. And as the spear embedded itself and the haze cleared from her vision, Pyrrha was unable to comprehend the scene in front of her.
She could only stare as Milo quivered, blade buried in the space between golden arcs on a white background.
Staring numbly as the dead rose up in front of her
At the living, breathing Jaune Arc in front of her.
Protecting the girl against the wall.
End prologue
A/N: Well that was fun. Hopefully the next chapter will be out in a week, this one took a lot more time to polish up than I thought it would. And yes, I took an entire 4 chapters to write a prologue. Honestly, it was supposed to only be three, but for some reason I decided to split the first chapter into two separate entries and ended up with this. Tune in next time for more fun things.