Read the bottom A/N, please.

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Ruby had done the impossible. To all who knew her she would be praised as a hero, a slayer of the impossible, a conqueror of despair. She would hear her tale sung within taverns and bars for years to come, innkeepers whispering her name in reverie and prayer. Ruby would never hear the end of her epic, the bards whistling tunes of her tale to travellers and the Kingdoms of Remnant themselves using her as an example. She'd be godly, revered by all.

She'd made up with Blake.

Now, when Yang came across the two five minutes later the expression 'thick as thieves' came to mind; she had no idea how ironic she'd just been. Then again suspicion sprouted to the forefront of her mind, clouding all judgement of what she'd seen Blake as two minutes ago- not five, because back them she'd formed the basis that the two never knew each other.

But seeing them now…it was like two sisters that had been separated were meeting up again. They were, as she'd usually say, 'buddy-buddy' with each other. Ruby was not one to get attached easily, but then again neither was she. Living on the streets gave a sense of wariness; who would stab you in the back and who would mug you? Who would rape you and who would kill you? Who to trust and who not to? Ruby, to that last one, would say everyone- because Ruby had never let herself trust, and Yang had the sneaking thought that the lack of trust in others extended to herself. Then again they were sisters, born in homes of love and raised by the streets.

Once, Ruby had told her "the streets show us more than any Hunting academy ever could; because unlike Hunters and Huntresses the streets teach you to survive, not save". That had stuck with her- along with the question of when her sister became so sagely- and not only moulded her, but shaped her very soul into what it was today. Those words acted as her code; as a reminder that the streets were essentially her parents, alleys and 'shortcuts' her extended family.

Then again she wasn't as pessimistic as Ruby was. No, Yang was an optimist, born and bred, and never once declared herself an orphan- mostly because the little child she used to be resided in her head still and whispered hopeful words of them finding a family to live with, or her old one being alive and well and looking for her. No, she wasn't like Ruby- night and day, sun and moon, whatever analogy you use, they were different.

For example, Ruby was a good liar, whereas Yang wore her heart on her sleeve; both of them, actually, though that heart was protected by four-inch-thick steel gauntlets that transformed into shotguns, so…yeah. Ruby was also a little more agile than a girl her age should be, especially one that worked as a waitress or a bartender or whatever it was she'd said her day job was. Now, to notice this was actually a stroke of luck and circumstance for her, for her lilac eyes had truly been opened that day.

It was a day that her memory refused to let her forget, no matter how much alcohol she consumed- of which she quickly stopped consuming, it made her do really weird things. Ruby was sitting on a ragged, worn, ripped cloth seat that had been in their shared home since they got there. The padding beneath it could be seen, the razor-sharp springs that jutted out from the sides along with the varnished and chipped wood that lay beneath were visible…and yet Ruby still sat there. Her hand was limp, lying to her side over the edge of the chair's arm rest; her knuckles white from- most likely- being clutched into a fist for so long. Nightmares always claimed them both, of what they'd seen on the streets and of what they'd heard at night, along with the growing number of Grimm, usually the factor. So long stood there was she that Yang didn't notice her grip on the glass of water that she was holding falter.

But she did notice Ruby. Ruby displayed unnatural reflexes that day that made Yang doubt everything she's been told- no one could catch a cup from half way across the room, while barely waking up; to her it seemed reflexive.

Sighing, she turned her head to Ozpin, the man who, for all intents and purposes, deserved the most attention she could muster. What he said in this school went treated the same as the law did, what he spoke was law.

Sure, this was just an introduction, but then again not all introductions are unimportant and meaningless.

Five minutes later she'd realise how wrong she was, and the next day she'd sit there contemplating everything she thought she knew while idly watching an orange haired girl pestering some poor boy. She wouldn't pity him though- because as much as she wished her sister was like that, she liked her private moments and this girl didn't seem to comprehend the meaning of the word.

Comprehend? Since when did Yang Xiao-Long say 'Comprehend'? 'hanging around Rubes too much', was the initial thought, and she walked off more confused than she was this morning.

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Ren and Nora were two seemingly normal people. Two seemingly normal- yet obviously close- friends that had known each other since childhood; though they weren't as storied as actual brother and sister, the time spent together was close to their entire lifespans. Yes, they were close, as close as relatives; but any implications that they were closer would be denied heavily by one Nora Valkyrie with many statements of 'being together but not together-together'.

Of course when Nora was of a young age her parents died, as did Ren's about a year after her own- he was in a bad place. Nora was in a worse one, however. Shortly after her parents died to Grimm attacks she found herself wandering through the wilderness, pickpocketing travellers and stealing food from wanderers just to make it to the next town, repeating the process. Ratty clothing one size too small for her already small and thin body, with green eyes dulled from her experiences. When the Grimm attacked Kuroyuri things took an uplifting turn to say the least. Odd how Nora's major turning point in life was during the attack that saw hundreds, if not in the low thousands, of innocent people killed.

She also saw Ren- well, more like she was crying under a low wooden building while Ren found her.

Details. But she'd never deny that Ren was the bravest and strongest child she'd ever seen- and most likely ever will see. Then again as a child, Ren used to be quite expressive; but if you saw him now you'd never see what he used to be like; he was stoic, quiet, let his friend do the talking. He used to be shy and brave, but kind with expressions beyond the standard he wore today.

Right now? Right now this previously expressive boy was waking up…to a pair of green eyes and blindingly bright orange hair. There were periods in his life when he wondered if the hair was natural or not, though when he'd asked she'd just looked away and ignored it completely. He'd never spotted any dyeing products however, so he was sure it was- as odd as it sounded- natural. Then again he can't really call her hair odd, seeing as the entire Schnee family line held white hair within their blood somewhere.

Spotting the odd magenta hair that coloured the left-most bang that dangled to the side of his head, he sighed. His hair was never natural either.

Turning his head left after about five minutes of stewing in thought and- admittedly- ignoring Nora, Ren noticed that he may not be the only one with weird coloured hair. Hair a two-toned colour of red and black, along with a girl with admittedly the largest pair of breasts he'd ever witnessed, blindingly bright gold hair and a pair of lilac eyes looking confused. A girl with hair blacker than a Grimm and a bow that he swore twitched every so often. Thankfully he'd fit in here, so there was always that as a bright side to his day.

While tucking his guns into his sleeves, he noticed Nora was still talking. And while he loved her like a sister, the girl was damn persistent in having plans related to sloths in everything they did. Colour coding clothing as to know who's was who's? sloths. Pancake shapes? Sloths. Destinations? Sloths.

So, deciding to end this debacle before it escalated and his fragile mind could take no more, Ren shushed Nora. "Nora; I don't think sloths make much noise."

He'd heard about a quarter of the conversation- one sided, naturally- that she'd had with him, and while he did hear snippets what he paid attention to were…things that bordered on illegal. They most definitely were not going to bribe the headmaster.

He'd heard a full two seconds of silence before it was ruined. "That's why it's perfect!"

Rolling his eyes and sighing in despair, Ren led a rather cheery Nora to the cliff on which their initiation was to be held.

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Rather short for how long I've been away but nevertheless here is the next chapter.

Now, unfortunately I have bad news for you all.

I'm not gonna write RWBY fictions anymore; this is gonna be the last one I write. I know I know, but think- the direction it's going in is just painful right now, and you can't give an author shit and tell him it's bread.

In short: RWBY isn't what it used to be, and I can't think of any ways to create a fiction based around what I've been given.

You can think of this chapter as the last one for any RWBY story I'll be writing, or at least the last for any story that isn't a complete AU. please, understand that this hurts, but since Monty's passing- bless his soul- I feel like Rooster Teeth forgot what made his show great. It was original, it was unique, and it was headed somewhere great. Now...now it's not even headed in the same direction anymore.

I love Rooster Teeth with everything I have, and I hope to one day work for them- or with them, at least. And while ambitious my goals are still goals, and I hope to achieve them. I just...I can't agree with the direction it's headed anymore, is all. I won't slander it- it's still up there with the greats of westernised Anime (whether you want it to be true or not, that's what it is).

so, again, an apology from me to you all is in order.

I. Am. Sorry. But I'm not gonna drop writing due to this setback, no. Instead I will carry on, and follow Monty's words to the letter, as I have been doing for most of my life- or, at least, since he said those words.

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"If you endeavour to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. it may not be immediate, and often your greater dreams are something you will not achieve within your own lifetime. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death."

- Monty Oum -