Remnant DxD

by Dessel Ordo

When an 11 year old Jaune Arc wandered out into Forever Fall hoping to become Remnants youngest huntsman, that should have been it for the foolish kid. Luckily a passing devil saw potential in him and re-incarnated him. Now, 6 years later House Bael has sent him to attend Beacon Academy to learn more about his homeworld, and establish his own peerage. What could possibly go wrong?

38. Chapter 38: Unity Imperfect

A/N So, remember how that first scene with Azazel and Ozpin ran away from MasterPrince and I/the chapter it happened in was supposed to have other shit but just got too damn big on its own? Yea, not that bad this time, but close, and the effect is the same here. So this was supposed to be the last chapter of canon RWBYs time-skip between the Breach and the Vytal Tourney but that's gonna be next chapter now. Heh, sorry about that, but if I've learned anything from some of the other fics I've done its that skipping through "slumpy/slow" bits straight to the "fun" parts I wanna write is a great way to write myself into a corner/kill a fic via bad pacing and missing interpersonal interactions that will be important long term. And I havent put as many years into this fic as I have just to kill it by being lazy.

Also, a bit of an anouncment/tip of the hat to Real Life being a bitch, going forward the absolute chapter deadline will be the weekend of the last day in a month (IE March ended Thursday so today/Sunday is the hard stop/deadline instead of the 31st.) Just a bit more wiggle room for MOP, Dragomi and I.

Usual dont sue me bro/I dont own RWBY or Remnant DxD or make any cash off of this disclaimer goes here.

On with the fic!

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Glynda had recovered from the initial shock well enough as far as humans go, all things considered.

Her reaction to an in-depth description of the powers and abilities of Devils and Angels of both varieties had been… academic. With requests for recordings and hard, numerically quantifiable statistics after Oz and Jim had offered up anecdotal evidence to be specific.

Even more gods and the confirmation that they can, in fact, be killed? Widened eyes and a tremble, but she had held together.

Azazel had entered the office not long after that. Through the elevator, of course–there's no need for all the extra drama of teleportation for a meeting about logistics and planning. When he'd learned that that had been postponed to introduce someone to the paranormal, he was glad. There's only so many dramatic displays of idle power the human heart can take and the mind can process during the initial exposition. Just in time to sit in on her being informed of–and to expand on–Sacred Gears. Hoo boy, she had not taken that one well. She'd been just about ready to storm off to the lockers to take Crocea Mors and put it under lock and key.

Which was an understandable response. If Arc wasn't such a good kid he'd probably even agree with her on it.

Shit that changes fate isn't quite as broken as a Longinus, or anything magical that messes with causality, but it's certainly up there. Especially when the guy wielding the thing has a Balance Breaker that speeds up what would normally be an 'eventually' to right now.

Azazel's description of the kid's last fight against Suriel had not sat well with Oz's human right hand. The handful of recovered and subsequently restored–Arc takes keeping the Supernatural world secret seriously, thankfully–CCT recordings of the fight had sat even worse with the woman.

Now, Azazel's inner nerd has been working on the barebones of a way to show people memories like in that Rowling lady's books or those Assassin games–Still a work in progress, but it would be so much more convenient when it comes to dealing with natural-born skeptics like Goodwitch–Azazel is pretty sure that between himself, the Grigori and the new Beelzebub, they might be able to whip up at least a prototype or proof-of-concept piece once the Alliance is formalized. Something that can be produced in serial would be a ways beyond that, but they have time on their side. But that's getting ahead of himself, work before play and all that boring crap.

After spending nearly half an hour convincing Goodwitch that the bumbling, kinda-awkward but well-meaning seventeen year old Jaune Arc has one of the highest body-counts among the students and teachers at Beacon – Oz and Phan excluded – he mentally adds another tally to the points in favor of convincing his bean-counters that a tool to share memories would be worth the investment of time and resources. It would be such a time saver and hassle-preventer!

That said, showing off all six pairs of wings is the sort of introduction that never really gets old.

After Glynda had been talked down from blustering off to act on one of several very bad ideas that explanation had given her, they'd moved on to politics and the different groups and power-blocs in the supernatural world. She'd been more or less fine with the different legitimate governments, only needing a few explanations on concepts that a person from a world that hasn't seen actual armed conflict between nations in generations can be forgiven for not catching on to immediately or even really understanding.

Jim's military background had been a godsend in comparison when he'd had similar talks with him after they'd been introduced.

Then they got into the megalomaniacs, madmen and cults of personalities that tend to form around apocalyptically powerful narcissists that are the splinter groups and smaller factions of the Supernatural world. Explaining to the poor woman exactly why the Old Satanists are called that and what sort of behavior they considered normal and proper? That is when the implications of the fact that the power levels of supernatural beings goes from barely magical and slightly longer lived humans all the way up to gods capable of destroying entire worlds, or even all of space and time several times over had sunk in for the poor girl.

Yeah…

Glynda is, mostly, keeping it together after that. But going from knowing that you're one of the bigger fish in the ocean to finding out that you're maybe a particularly pugnacious crustacean in what's actually a tidal-pool near the ocean in the space of a few hours will have an effect on a person. "So, that leads us to one of my favorite topics to close out the night with." Azazel nonchalantly drawls at the not-quite grimacing, almost calm looking woman. "Magic."

Glynda holds up a hand. Azazel pauses his amazing introduction, the primer that was sure to be the start of this woman's outstanding career in magical academia and cuts a glance over to Oz. The gray-haired man raises an eyebrow and nods at the blonde to proceed.

"By my count, there are at least half a dozen societies, organizations, cults or political splinter factions that are either actively seeking to end at least one, if not all worlds or in some other way bring about the apocalypse." The Deputy Headmistress, well he'd call it a hypothesis if the woman hadn't gotten straight to the heart of one of the biggest issues the above-the-board leadership of the different factions of the Supernatural world are all trying to deal with.

Jim purses his lips and nods, "That's a… fair assessment, Glynda." The commander-in-chief of Remnants sole superpower hadn't taken that news any better than Glynda, and it still shows. At least the panicky, frantic turn of phrase has finally stopped cropping up whenever the subject comes up. Hell, even that had been better than the creepy, emotionless, near-robotic vocal cadence and demeanor he affects when he subconsciously lets Mettle take over. The amount of force it takes Azazel to shock Jim out of those fugue states is a bitch to get just right, and he doubts any natives currently alive and active would be able to pull it off.

"And… both of the dragons capable of casually slaying a god-if it is foolish enough to put itself in the middle of their blood-feud-are currently active, and both of them have visited Remnant several times now?" She adds in a surprisingly calm voice, though one of her brows has a notable twitch, giving away the act for exactly what it is.

Normally mention of the Heavenly Dragons–even in their currently reduced states–involves a lot more panic, plotting or lust. The brave face with an authoritarian spin is a nice change of pace.

Azazel shrugs. "I mean, Vali's a good kid. He's got his issues, but don't we all?" Three sets of eyes are boring into him aggressively at that quip. Tough crowd. Undaunted, he continues to explain that, "And from what I've heard about Issei Hyoudou, Remnant's got nothing to worry about from him. It does, happily enough, have an abundance of his favorite thing."

Goodwitch's eyebrow arches even higher somehow before she grits out, "And what, precisely, is that?"

Azazel shoots her a deviant little grin. "Beautiful women." He waggles his eyebrows at her for good measure. "Especially the ones with vast… tracts of land." Not even so much as a rolled eye. It's clear that they got his meaning, but he seriously needs to have a few movie nights with these people–as a cultural exchange of course–the comedy gold courtesy of him that they've been missing for the last few weeks-hourse for Glynda, but that's semantics-courtesy of himself is downright criminal.

Glynda crosses her arms over her own impressive assets. Oz helps himself to an abnormally large sip of cocoa. Jim level stare holds unflinching for nearly a minute before he reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Okay, maybe he's giving the little edgelord and pervert a bit too much credit, but he's confident things'll turn out with those two. Two, maybe three youthful indiscretions between the pair tops, and nothing major.

Probably.

Jim nods after the mood settles down from Azazel's apparently ill-advised stab at levity and optimism. "At least there aren't any native dragons we have to worry about, right, Oz?"

The Infinite Man takes another careful sip from his enhanced mug of cocoa. Azazel isn't a rum guy himself, but Oz has good taste at least. "I believe that is the case, yes."

Glynda arches an eyebrow at him. "You believe?"

Azazel can't help but follow up, "Oh? Meaning there were dragons on Remnant once upon a time?" That gets both Glynda and Jim's attention entirely fixated on their de-facto leader. And he can't exactly blame them, he'd laid it on pretty thickly about just how big of a deal dragons can be once you get up towards the top of the power spectrum for them.

Oz locks eyes with the Fallen Angel and shrug, for a moment the only sound is the ever-present grinding clatter of clockwork filtering down from the ceiling of his office. "I was rather more concerned with a princess and a tower in my first life." Another sip, and a grimace. "With the way that ended, I wasn't in a place to keep tabs on anything outside the bottom of a bottle, or the going rates of the local ladies of the night for, several generations after that. Unfortunately, the end of Remnant's first age will remain a blank space between my first death and the ill-fated attempt at co-rule Salem and I made that truly killed it."

That is not an answer. Although Azazel will freely admit, if only to himself, that the skill with which Ozma had cleanly dodged the issue without avoiding answering altogether is impressive.

At Azazel's pointedly raised eyebrow, the wizard lets out a low sigh and a commiserating nod. Clearly, they need to work on curtailing his old habit of giving partial-at-best explanations more, but he does look ready to elaborate. "The only dragon I know for certain survived the Brothers'… departure, was known as Civrim, or the Chromatic Dragon to his more reverent followers. If my admittedly foggy memory of that time is accurate, then by Azazel's descriptions I would estimate his power to be that of a Great Dragon King– Of Remnant at least. I am uncertain as to whether or not he could equal the power of those bearing the same moniker on Earth.– Remnant owes him much, as do Salem and I, for the lessons we learned at his talons during the early years of our immortality." The gray haired man pauses, a brief, wistful smile crossing his face before it darkens again. "He… left, shortly before my quarrel with Salem began. If he has been active in any way since then, or still lives, for that matter, I could not say definitively." Another pause, and while Ozpin's face remains impassive, both Glynda and Jim look like they want to comfort or reassure him but don't have a clue as to how. "As I alluded to before, between substance abuse and depression my memories from that era are, at best, incomplete."

Jim lets out a low, frustrated sigh, clearly beyond tired of being bombarded by shocking revelations and uncovering well hidden secrets. "Oz…Why would you keep something like this hidden?"

Ozpin drains his mug before wearily sliding it across his otherwise empty desk. "I have no means of proving his existence save Jinn, James. And to be frank, unless he actively sought attention he did not want it, if my memory serves. After this long, to seek him out with the intent of calling on him for aid would simply be giving you false hope. Another false hope." God, the look on his face. Oz had been a lot closer to the breaking point than Azazel had figured when they first met if this is anything to go by. And he definitely does not want to think about what a man in his position with the blind loyalty of as many people and kids as he's got would look like. It's enough to give an old Fallen like him nightmares. "It is best to let 'sleeping dragons lie' is the turn of phrase I believe Azazel used when he brought me up to speed on the broader cosmos."

Right, time to nip all this angsty self-recrimination in the bud. "So Remnant has Dragon Kings, plural?"

Oz offers a shuddering, solem shrug. "Three, at most, survived the end of the Brothers' stewardship of Remnant. Several of my contemporaries–adventurers, not mages that is–in my first life had more dealings with dragons or focused on them specifically, but I never paid much attention to their stories, as they did not intersect with my interests or desires. Civrim once mentioned in passing that he had 'two peers yet living, and barely more vassals than that' and neither Salem or I had the heart to press the issue at the time."

Azazel hums to himself, "Just putting this out there: It's possible they disguised themselves as humans or Faunus. It's not a super common ability for dragons, but if your assessment of the level they're at is accurate it's well within the wheel-house they'd be working from."

Jim goes stiff before turning to face Azazel, and asks "Dragons can do that?" his voice flat and gruff. Ah, there's the creepy emotionless fugue-state he hates so much. Azazel gives him a cheerful nod before reaching over to crack him upside the head almost hard enough to knock him from his chair. By the time the general rights himself he is rapidly blinking and sputtering, at least until what had just happened sinks in and he breathes in deeply through his nose before letting out a long sigh. Right, memory viewers might be a fun project, but if Jim or Qrow are anything to go by, Remnant needs a means to suppress or curb Semblances that's more palatable for long term use than the brute-force soul compressors their law enforcement uses to keep Aura enhanced criminals secure. Hell, the person's Semblance not working with those is more of a side-effect than anything else, and Oz's most trusted need something to improve their daily quality of life and mental stability ASAP from what he's seen.

Glynda takes a deep breath of her own before nodding slowly, and pushing herself up from her chair. "I will be taking a personal day tomorrow, Saturday and Sunday. Unless the apocalypse has begun ahead of schedule, assume that I'm indisposed, please." At that, she turns and strides out of the office and into the elevator. Azazel can't help but trail his eyes up and down her pronounced curves as she goes, not bad at all.

After the door slides shut, the Fallen Angel swivels his chair around to face Ironwood. Finally, a chance to ask the question–well, some variation on it–since he'd first seen him and Goodwitch interact. "So, you gonna chase that or what?"

Ohhhh, if looks could kill he'd be dead on the spot right now. Not bad for a human his age.

Azazel just leans back in his chair, waiting for the answer. Almost a full minute later, the General heaves a sigh and slumps forward to cradle his forehead in his flesh and blood hand. After another pause to collect himself, the general replies. "Following right behind her right away will only make matters worse. What else do we need to go over tonight?"

"Go, James. You need a break as well."

Ironwood turns to level yet another glare on Ozpin. "I'm not one of your students, Oz."

Ozpin arches an eyebrow at that, before plucking his glasses from his nose and handkerchief from the pocket of the jacket draped across the back of his chair. Again, all any of them can hear is the grinding of gears as the headmaster idly wipes his glasses before returning them to his face. "I've see you rub your sternum at least half a dozen times in the last half hour, James."

Hah. Well, that's certainly one way to tell someone you know their prosthetics are acting up without slapping them in the face with it.

Oz continues in an impressively nonchalant tone. "It is only human to require a break from time to time."

Jim chews on that for a moment, before slamming back what's left in his tumbler and rising out of his borrowed desk and slipping back into his jacket. He stuffs his gloves, then his hands into its pockets and begins making for the elevator as well. "You'd do well to follow your advice on that as well Oz."

Azazel waits until the elevator is a few floors down before breaking the silence. "Sooo, I'm guessing those two have a history then?"

Oz rolls his eyes. "That is certainly an understatement."

"Sounding awfully wistful there, Oz. Don't tell me I finally found a kindred spirit and fellow matchmaker in you." Azazel ribs the other man, who just reaches across his desk to retrieve and then refill his mug. "Don't tell me you can spend all this time surrounded by kids as vivacious as your students and not feel a bit tempted to help some of them along." Azazel lets his expression go a bit perverse. "Play a round of matchmaker or two with a side of eugenics maybe?"

"I refuse to justify that accusation with an answer."

Azazel lightens up a bit. "Fine, fine. Right to business then."

Ozpin nods. "Mr. Arc putting me in contact with Lady Leviathan, well, her assistant Raenella, at first, has sped things along considerably in regards to the final phase of planning for the tournament."

Azazel hums. The Serafall girl is efficient like that from what he's heard. Less time spent in negotiations and playing politics means more time for her to indulge in her passion project, after all. And landing a brat from the Phenex clan as an intern can only help with that, even if it is one of the shut-ins. "I imagine between the three of you, an itinerary for meeting with the Underworld's leadership's already set up then?"

"Serafall and Sirzechs will be meeting with me during the Team round." He rolls his eyes after a thought strikes him, face pinching in annoyance for a moment before he asks "I trust you won't take this knowledge and use it to renew hostilities by wiping out the Devil's leadership?" in a tone that suggests the question wasn't his idea to ask, but he's gotta anyways.

Politics.

Azazel scoffs and waves off the absurdity. He wants peace and time to work on his projects, not more senseless slaughter. That's not even counting how badly an attack on Sirzechs could backfire if even half of the rumors surrounding the crimson-haired Devil King are true. "Guessing you were put in touch with people from Valhalla, and Heaven as well?" Azazel queries, almost rhetorically.

Oz nods at him, taking a sip from his mug. "I was, though my business with them will most likely run a far shorter span of time. Both of them will meet with myself and James during the doubles round." He pauses after setting his mug back down. "I trust you aren't overly upset at being left out of the 'official' negotiations?"

"'Course I'm not." Azazel retorts before lazily kicking his chair back to spin himself around, head resting over the back of it and staring up at the clockwork ceiling. "Phan and I are trying to merge what's basically a military command forced into the role of civilian government only meant to last until we die out with a refugee group being run more like a business than a government that never got around to properly adjusting itself into a governing body. We have more important things to do than shake hands, pad ego's and brown-nose diplomats with delusions of importance." He sticks a foot out to stop himself and rest on the now empty desk Jim had been working from. "Add to all that the less than stellar rep us Fallen have compared to the rest of the Three Factions? It's best we just wait for the official peace talks to get started before we start rubbing elbows and trying to build bridges instead of burnin'em."

Ozpin lets out a small laugh. "That would be a 'no' then." Azazel fixes the spoilsport with a half-serious pout for that. "Have the two of you even decided on a name for this new Nation of Fallen Angels you are trying to build up yet?"

"No, and that seems like a... minor detail at best."

Ozpin shrugs and looks out through the wall of windows behind him at Vale. "Oh, you'd be surprised how much something to rally behind will motivate people and drive decisions." He pauses to let out a wistful sigh. "If it isn't too presumptuous of me to do so, may I recommend the Obsidian Union?"

Azazel can feel his face going a bit pinched. "I like Obsidian, nice way to show some respect to our new homeworld and start adjusting to its broader traditions. A bit on the nose with the color and the wings, but that's par for the course when it comes to nations and flags really. Union, though... not many countries with 'Union' in the name were particularly good on Earth. With how long a lot of us on the Supernatural side of things live, our collective cultural memory can be pretty long. Things… might not go over so well if the new government reminds people of one of the governments they lost more friends than they'd care to count to."

Oz frowns, and lets out a prolonged hum as he massages his brow, before trying. "Free Obsidian Republic then?"

This time he openly winces. "Same problem. Especially with the sort of places that need to double down on insisting they're both free and a republic."

Ozpin blinks at him, before pinching the bridge of his nose. "I feel like it will be a while before I am free enough to visit Earth, but I feel like I should ask you for a list of red flags on which countries not to visit before I do. The Obsidian Federation perhaps?" Azazel doesn't really have it in him to once again shoot a hole through his new friend's current creative streak, so instead he glances out the window. The view is damn nice from up here. "All right, then. How is–" Oz cuts himself off, and shakes his head. "At this rate you may as well call yourselves the Obsidian Polity and be done with it."

"Ha!" Azazel can't help but bark out. "I like that one, think I'll pass it on to Phanuel and the others."

Ozpin blinks dumbly at him for a few moments. "Azazel, you may as well just call yourselves the 'color government' I made that recommendation in jest."

"I know you were and I think it's a good one! Passing it along to the other prospective councilmen is just me being a good friend." The Fallen Angel crows, still chortling a bit.

Oz chuckles and sends a wan smile his way. "But of course."

Still grinning, Azazel adds "I'm sure your name for the new Academy will be just as good when we get to that point. You've got the most practice with that sort of thing after all."

"A bit of a continuation on your plan to start working bits about the Supernatural into the Huntsman Academies' curriculums. You know, get the real curious or open-minded ones a more in-depth, hands-on education in the field. Plus it'll be the natural home-academy for Fallen Angels, and hopefully some transfers." He pauses to take a sip from his mug. "If we can get enough of the planning ironed out I was hoping to talk to some folks about it during the Vyral Tourney. Nice neutral location and all that. Probably gonna put the Academy right along the edge of wherever my people wind up settling down here too, somewhere neutral enough to keep people from getting too skittish about their kids learning from us untrustworthy, duplicitous Fallen Angels."

Ozpin's smile goes warm as he offers an approving nod to Azazel's plan "It is a relief to be able to use the phrase 'a sign of the times' about some new development and feel hope rather than dread at the statement."

"Anyone else coming to Remnant I should know about since we're on that topic?"

Ozpin shrugs, "Serafall and Raenella just sent me a message that some members of the Olympian pantheon as well as the leader of one of the Youkai factions had expressed interest in Remnant before James and I settled in to manage the clerical side of our jobs tonight, but those were personal not state matters. So, while I will be rolling out the red carpet for them, I doubt any serious negotiations will take place. Their accommodations will be similar to the rest of the leaders that I will be hosting. No need to risk an international incident with sloppy planning." He pauses to offer Azazel an expectant but friendly look. "I assume that you had a reason other than boredom to come to my office before you were roped into helping James and I explain things to Glynda?"

Azazel nods. "Yeah, not a lot but it's your school so you deserve to know." He pulls his work scroll-the things are so much more user-friendly than most smartphones-and slides it across Oz's desk. "Some of my people were running a network check while Arc and Winchester's teams were doing a sweep of the Academy's magical defenses."

Ozpin scans the scroll for a few minutes, panning around, frowning at it several times. "You'll have to forgive me for not entirely understanding what this report entails. Computer Science has never been my forte."

"Magically enhanced computer virus. If we didn't know the Myriad are here we'd probably have missed it. A few thousand years will cause a hell of a lot of cultural and technological drift, and that's before you factor in the tech in question not even having existed at the point of divergence. But there's something in your system, and it's ridiculously good at both hiding itself, and spreading."

"How much of it have you managed to clear from my system?" Ozpin asks, controlling his emotions admirably, but still pretty clearly upset and worried.

"None." Azazel dryly intones.

Ozpin blinks at him. "Excuse me, you left it alone?"

Azazel scoffs. "Of course we didn't. It makes itself clear enough with the Black Queen emblem it likes to stamp all over the place, but otherwise, stealth seems to be its main line of defense. Once we start purging, the jig is up and it's open cyber-warfare time which could easily cause as much panik as fighting in the streets. I have people working on finding every last corrupted file, terminal and executable so that we can burn it all out in one go before Salem and her Myriad buddies know that we caught'em out."

The reincarnating Wizard takes a slow breath in and out. "Very well. I will defer to your expertise in the field on this point. Please keep me apprised as the situation develops."

Azazel gives him a frank look. "You know there's more to this than that, Oz."

The truly weary expression that emerges on Oz's face almost causes him to wince in sympathy. The ancient wizard responds with a stiff nod. "I am aware of, and currently working through the resultant emotions from learning that I have most likely been betrayed by a man I believed that I could trust implicitly."

Azazel continues as gently as he can, because he knows how that kind of betrayal can hurt. "Your boy, Branwen, wasn't able to get a good look of Amber's attackers, but their skin and hair colors are too much of a coincidence compared to that specific team if you ask me. Plus Cinder Fall? Really?" He shakes his head disparagingly. "Her being sent here as one of Haven's representatives could be coincidence or good infiltration work on her part. Same with the virus being so perfectly tailored to get into your system. But both of those, combined with the timing of when Raven ran off, and the whole mess around her 'Tribe', the Spring Maiden and how shits been going for the last few years over on Anima for the last decade or so..." He doesn't really need to do more than let the implication hang.

"Explaining the situation to you did have me re-evaluating events there, Azazel, and I believe we both came to the same conclusion. They opened the Vault and used one of this era's questions. That is the only explanation that makes any sense. For Raven abandoning her family. For Leonardo's return to the skittish excitability of his youth. For the last Spring Maiden–who should have believed herself to be one of the most powerful beings on the face of Remnant–to have become so flighty and morose, and later run straight into the arms of Raven Branwen of all people. I know, Azazel. This all but confirms it."

He nods. Respecting the man's need to process. Age doesn't make people any less susceptible to make mistakes or misjudge people's character. And it doesn't make betrayals like this hurt any less. "So, what are we doing about that?"

Ozpin shrugs. "We will run the tournament as planned. Much like the virus, we gain nothing from showing our hand early." He pauses, and reaches down to grip The Long Memory. "and after that, I will be taking a trip to Mistral to speak with Leonardo personally." His eyes flare green at the last word. Good to see the old wizard still has some fire in him.

"Umm, am I interrupting something?" Rojoa's voice cuts through the melodramatic silence.

Azazel chuffs out a laugh, the young Fallen could sneak up on the two of them like that shows his skill as an Inquisitor. "Nah, just talking about the most recent addition to Oz's shit-list." The levity did its job as he hears Oz's wry snort. "What's the word, Rojoa?"

Rojoa coughs before getting down to it. "Well, I have the summary of Teams Juniper and Cardinal's perimeter check on the defensive spells the headmaster and Phanuel had set up around the Academy." The Fallen pauses to clear the locks of hair that had fallen out of place and shuffle from one report to the other. "I also have my preliminary report on how Team Cardinal's probationary status is going, if the two of you have time to hear it."

"Leave the reports on the drama-king's desk so we can go over them later, and give us a summary for tonight." Azazel instructs, doing his level best to act like it's business as usual for the sanity of Phan's subordinate. Oz rolls his eyes, then nods and motions for the younger Fallen to proceed as well.

"Arc and Winchester's teams mostly found what we were expecting. Breaches and weak-points in the defenses where Suriel had been active or planning something or where Arc and his team had been forced to push back." The Fallen shuffles the report, eyes bouncing across it for the next major point. "The only disruption that we hadn't been expecting them to find was a single site out by the overflow storage units where it appears that Earth-based human magic has been actively used on a regular basis for what I think has been at least a few weeks now."

Azazel lets out a tired sigh. "Y'know, a few years ago I'd be making a snide remark about Sirzechs' people's operational security. Actually dealing with all the wild shit that this planet's got going on on the ground? All I can really say is that it figures we'd run into a snag like this."

"Do we have any clues as to who has been active?" Ozpin presses.

Rojoa's head shakes in a negative. "Nope. Whoever they are, they're hiding their tracks well. None of the residuals that would usually indicate one of the currently known and active Mage groups, guilds or alliances were at the site. Similarly, no indicators of any national or ethnically unique magic could be found."

"And Cardin's team?"

Rojoa shrugs. "The big lug's still pretty angry at the world and his situation in general but cooperative. Russel's still the best mage of the bunch and taking to actual Inquisitor training like a fish to water, while his two new team members are still, adjusting, to all the revelations they've had dumped on them recently."

Ozpin sighs, "Better than can be said for how Miss Rose's team took learning the truth, from what we can infer from what Mr. Arc told us."

Azazel shrugs. "I mean, they didn't find out by seeing their friends cut-down a half dozen Fallen then have a few month's worth of deception get laid out at their feet right afterwards." He pauses to take a drink from the glass he'd helped himself to hours ago when he'd come into the office and started helping with bringing Goodwitch up to speed. "That mess is mostly on Arc though, he might have meant well, but no one ever likes hearing that something they don't like was done 'for their own good.'"

_-*R-DxD*-_

Jaune leans back in the chair he'd claimed at the back of the big sparring ring he'd booked out for the day so that his and Ruby's teams could spend some down time with–and properly get to know–everyone in Rias' Peerage.

Well, almost everyone.

Things with Gasper are still... yeah.

Team RWBY probably isn't ready to learn about the half-vampire-turned Devil's plight and personal issues yet. Learning about his sealing on top of that definitely won't earn Devils any favors from the girls on his sister Team either. Better to cross that bridge when they get to it. From what he can tell, not even Issei or Asia know about him yet either.

They're in one of the bigger practice rooms, with a deep open space between the set of bleachers set into the concrete flanking the stairs leading down from the door to the actual sparring ring. These rooms get used for parties and family gatherings by students and staff as often as they are for their stated purpose.

A pair of folding tables are set up off to his right, a dozen more-or-less picked over pizzas and empty two liter bottles of cola are slowly crawling towards room temperature, having been forgotten shortly after all of them had eaten their fill. Leaving them marked as 'free' in the common rooms mini-fridge should keep the food from going to waste. Pyrrha is resting in his lap/cuddled into the crook of his left shoulder and looking content, with Rias sitting on his right watching their subordinates and friends mingle pretty much like he is, with Ren on his left either halfway into a food-coma or, more likely, trying to meditate.

Down by the actual sparring ring, Yang is happily chattering away with Kiba and a bored-looking Koneko.

Ruby, Weiss and Asia are spread out on the bleachers, though the Atlesian girl looks more interested in whatever has her Scroll ringing than the conversation she had been in with the other girls. Blake and Akeno are still at the table, empty plates sat in front of them and forgotten as the pair of black-haired girls talk about... something. Jaune could probably pick out what they were saying if he felt like it, but that would be rude.

All of the Remnant natives are still clad in their combat outfits– it having been the Freshman's turn to clear out the Grimm in the Emerald Forest surrounding Beacon this weekend–, while the visitors are all casually dressed–t-shirts and blue jeans for Issei and Koneko, Rias and Akeno having opted for more chic blouses with the former wearing a modest knee-length skirt and her Queen a pair of fitted slacks. Asia had left the jacket she'd worn over her modest dress hanging over the back of a currently unused chair, and Kiba rounding the group out in dark denim with a plain undershirt and white pin-striped short sleeved dress shirt left hanging open–with Kuoh Academy being closed this particular weekend.

"So, if I may ask, Jaune, what did you have in mind for these four?" Rias asks, subtly indicating the scattered Team RWBY and breaking the silence that had fallen over their small group.

Jaune shrugs, eliciting a discontented grumble from Pyrrha, who shifts around to lean back into him more comfortably. "Knights for Ruby and Blake, a Rook for Yang and Weiss will, hopefully, at least, be my final Bishop."

Rias shoots an uncertain glance at him. "Are you sure you're not moving too fast? I understand that they're your friends, Jaune, but using your remaining pieces for… well…" Rias trails off, very clearly searching for a polite way to word what she's clearly thinking.

"I'd rather not wait to see if I have your luck when it comes to powerful pieces falling into my lap." He pauses to cast a cheeky sidelong glance at his fellow King. "And it's not like you're in any position to talk. The trademark Gremory Kindness all but demanded you take on nearly everyone in your Peerage. That they just so happened to also have amazing potential was a happy coincidence. It's not like they were this strong or stable from the get-go, am I right?"

Rias at least has the decency to blush at being so directly called out by Jaune, but she still casts a fond glance around the room at the scattered members of her Peerage as they mingle and relax with his and their friends, not refuting his statement either. She tosses out a carefree shrug in response. After a few more minutes of content silence, she adds, "Just because that's true doesn't mean I won't take an opportunity when I see one."

"What Devil wouldn't?" He forces a chuckle. "I get your point, but those four are currently the Team with the most potential of our generation." Sure, his team are damn impressive too, but for the sake of this conversation he definitely needs to be coming from that weirdly detached place Devils have apparently assessed the rest of the world from when it comes to determining the potential of potential new members of their peerages since the dawn of the Evil Piece system. He continues after hearing Rias' agreeing hum. "Sure, they might not have Sacred Gears, but with Semblance and Aura, that is a lot less of an issue." His fellow King's clear doubt for Jaune's assessment of Team RWBY's potential earns her a downright predatory grin from Pyrrha. Great, of all the times for her competitive side to rear its head. "Rias, a person's Aura reserves and the power, versatility and capacity of their Semblance are theoretically limitless. As long as you keep on training, working to better yourself and self-awareness there's always room for more growth."

Rias' dubious look begins clearing as she starts to connect the dots. "And with hundreds to thousands of years to keep growing, instead of the eighty or so most humans have–"

"Actually, it's more like fifty or sixty usually." Jaune cuts her off.

Rias tilts her head slightly in confusion at Jaune's interruption. Ren takes the resultant silence to interject "The Huntsmen who survive that long usually retire at around that age for much the same reasons civilians do. The human body can only take so much abuse, and the ones smart, skilled or lucky enough to survive the lifestyle that long usually have the common sense to retire before their age catches up with them fatally."

"There's a few in every generation who are good enough shots, or have a niche enough semblance that their bodies decline isn't enough to keep them out of the field entirely, but they're the exception, not the rule." Jaune adds offhandedly. "Besides, while your Aura reserves and Semblance develop pretty linearly, a Devil's growth is anything but once you start getting into real fights and rating games. It'll be, interesting, to see how that affects the weaponized reflection of a person's soul."

Rias nods. "That… all sounds very reasonable, but I still think you might be better served by securing a few more individuals with more traditional power for some of your more high value pieces. I'm certain that the flexibility of Pawns will serve some of your friends better than the more specialized roles held by the other pieces."

Jaune is about to reply that he has several friends who would be even better suited to the versatility of pawns–Coco and Velvet in particular–when Pyrrha's face goes from a slight pout to a full on scowl for a moment before she smoothes her features back over. "How often have you been hit, Rias?"

"I… Don't follow." The redhead with more curves than muscles asks, looking more than a little confused by the question.

Pyrrha doesn't falter, and is actually doing a pretty good job of looking intense from her perch on her boyfriend's lap–though Jaune will have to admit a small amount of bias when it comes to that judgment–"How many times have you been hit? Punched in the face? Knocked on your back or smashed through a wall, had some jerk who fights dirty kick you in the breast on purpose?" Rias winces and her left arm, probably reflexively, goes to shield her impressive assets at that. "Have you ever been sliced open by a sword or gotten stabbed by a spear?"

Frowning and a bit wide-eyed, Rias uncertainty replies. "Maybe a few times during my first few Stray hunts or run-ins with rogue Fallen and Exorcists? If-if you use your power well you don't need physical combat." Although she trails off with a grimace. She probably knows how unsatisfactory that sounds, especially after the stretch of hand-to-hand training she dabbled in while preparing for her match against Riser.

There's a fire in Pyrrha's emerald eyes now. A fire that–now that he's watched some of the Invincible Girl's fights, weigh in's and press conferences–he knows only comes out to play when someone truly and honestly believed they could match her skill, or take her down a peg. "And how many other Devils who aren't Rooks or Knights share that view?"

Rias arches her eyebrow and shoot Pyrrha a wry smile. One that Jaune only knows is more bluster than bite since he's known the girl since he was six due to his–now former–King being her older cousin. "Is that challenge factoring in the power of Ultimate-class and Satan-class Devils, or only the ones you can match personally?"

Pyrrha winds up pouting at that. It's true that when you're up against an enemy that can wipe out a city or shatter a country when they get worked up, getting in close isn't really a viable option unless you have a damn good strategy. Normally he'd step in to defend her, or point out that she has the sort of Sacred Gear that absolutely could potentially scale to that level given enough time, training and practice.

He could even point out that of course the girl who had only needed to be reincarnated in the first place because she bit off more than she can chew in a fight knows better than to try punching up across that wide of a divide now. But half the point of this little shindig is to make friends and forge alliances, not flap their genitals at each other and beat their chests to prove dominance like it's another Young Devils Ball. So instead, Jaune plants a kiss on his girlfriend's temple, getting a blushing stutter out of her. "Pyrrha, what Rias was implying about our friends is the truth and her advice is traditionally sound. Besides, she only had our best interest in mind when she gave us the advice she just did." He looks over to Rias, face and tone firming up a bit. "That said, I do have several friends in mind who I know will thrive with a Pawns versatility, and will probably take a few of them each."

Pyrrha crosses her arms and shifts around in his lap to glower off at the far wall. "I still think that you and I should watch some of the recordings of my career, Rias. You may find it–"

"AURA CHECK!" Ruby shouts, cutting off all other conversation in the room, and causing all eight Remnant natives to stiffen up and flare their Auras, Weiss's even going visible for a moment before her partner's fist skitters off of it.

Asia lets out a startled yelp and hops back from Ruby and Weiss, the latter scowling at her partner while Koneko raises an eyebrow, who'd approached the other three girls during his discussion with Rias, clearly unimpressed by Ruby's display. "The heck was that all about?" the shortest girl in the room grouses.

"I mean, you asked how we all got so used to doing stuff with our Auras up, and for Yang and me at least we just, kept it up all the time and Dad or Uncle Qrow would, well..."

Yang rolls her eyes from across the room. "It's pretty normal for most Huntsman families actually. The kids who decide to get in on the lifestyle at one of the recruitment rallies are normally caught up by the time they get out of Combat School and have a Semblance." She pauses, looking over at the still pouting Weiss. "Gotta say though, I'm surprised you reacted like the rest of us, Weiss-cream."

The heiress lets out a half-playful sneer and exaggeratedly turns her nose up. "Once Father accepted that I was entirely serious about becoming a Huntress, he saw to it that I was properly tutored. Either his insistence that I be made as prepared to attend an Academy as is possible, or Winter still being in touch with the retired professionals who tutored her as well saw to it that I was... exposed to that 'barbaric tradition.'"

Asia cautiously pads back over to the small gaggle that she, Koneko, Ruby and Weiss had formed around one of the smaller end tables along the room's perimeter. Ruby had piled it high with sweets and baked goods from the bakery that Weiss and Ravel had introduced her to the other day, and Koneko had attached herself to it almost as soon as Ruby had uncovered it. The two of them had barely moved a dozen steps from the platter since then.

"So you're saying the perv was actually right?" Koneko drawls. Weiss looks over at the cretin in question and–okay, fine, maybe she's being too harsh in her assessment of the brunette Devil, but her first impression of him had been especially poor–he flinches under her scrutiny.

Ruby tilts her head in confusion at the tiny girl's question. "Right about what?"

Koneko glances towards Issei. "After our Rating Game against Fried Chicken's harem and the stupid party he forced half of the Underworld to show up to watch him get his ass beat, Issei decided he was gonna 'train his Aura' and kept it up nonstop for the next few weeks." She grabs a cookie from the platter and starts munching away at it. Her gaze goes half-lidded and her monotone voice takes on an even less amused, flat affect. "He had, like, a dozen different people we had to wipe the memories of because they wanted to know why he had started sparkling pink."

Asia clasps her hands together, and turns to face the pair of Remnantian girls eyes wide and twinkling with honest enthusiasm. "Oh but I think Issei's commitment to his friends is so sweet." Weiss does her best to let the heartfelt appeal wash over her and remain objective as Koneko offers a noncommittal grunt in response to her blonde friend's declaration. "He means well, really. I consider having met him a true blessing from God. Amen-OW!" She briefly flinches at the end of her declaration, before rubbing her head and turning to smile over at Issei who returns it with a goofy thumbs up, eliciting a rosy blush from the former nun before she turns back to their conversation. She blushes further when Ruby coos and nudges Asia with her elbow.

Hmph, Weiss can concede that's cute. And that the blonde girl clearly doesn't have a deceitful bone in her body and means what she had said. Not that she'll give that deviant the satisfaction of admitting it aloud. Still…

Weiss lets out a mirthless laugh. "I'm sure Hyoudou will be fine. No one outside your Peerage will remember what happened, and since the rest of you will need to go through the same if you are serious about taking the opportunity Jaune opened up to you."

Ruby snorts. "So, how hard was that handshake, Weiss?"

She turns to glare at her dolt of a partner. "Quiet, you! Don't think I don't know who turned that picture into a stupid cookie meme now that we've met!"

Asia looks back and forth between the pair of teammates. "Excuse me, but, I don't, umm..."

Still snickering Ruby takes a few steps back before leaning towards Weiss and spreading her arms to gesture widely at her. "I present to you, Weiss Schnee, heiress to the largest company on Remnant, releaser of six different hit singles and puppy enthusiast." With a flourish and a flash of her semblance the younger girl is back over by the end table and tray of snacks, leaning against Asia with her elbow resting on the blonde's shoulder. "She's kind of a big deal." Ruby adds in an overly dramatic stage-whisper.

"Oh, I see!" Asia chirps with an earnestness only rivaled by that Polendina girl while Koneko shrugs indifferently. It's also incredibly clear that she does not, in fact 'see' anything. How could she, when she isn't from Remnant and wouldn't have seen the embarrassing video Rruby had referenced, and is just trying to be polite. Time to deflect the conversation away from her having made a fool of herself a few years ago.

Weiss rolls her eyes at her partner's antics. "Says the girl who didn't even recognize me when we first met."

"I'm sorry, but I was a little distracted by you blowing us up when we first met!" Ruby gleefully retaliates.

"Me!? If you hadn't run into me, there wouldn't have been an explosion." Weiss retorts, the initial mortification at that incident having long become a humorous, fond memory by now.

"B-blown up? Oh my goodness!" Asia's green eyes go incredibly wide as she worriedly bounces her gaze between Weiss and Ruby.

Koneko looks downright unimpressed in contrast, calmly munching down another cookie from the platter and squints her eyes at the pair. "Neither of you look like you got blown up. One of you have some healing Semblance like Asia's Sacred Gear? Or is Aura just that kickass?"

Ruby startles a bit and turns to face the smallest girl in the group. "What? No, I don't have anything amazing like that, and neither does Weiss. I just make a mess whenever I go fast and… shoot anti-Grimm eyeball lasers." She mumbles halfway to herself, clearly still been working through the ramifications of that revelation as best as she can.

"Anti-Grimml what now?" Koneko deadpans as Ruby grabs a comfort-muffin for herself.

Weiss nudges Ruby with her elbow. "We don't know that that's how it works, Ruby."

The crimson-fringed girl blows a playful raspberry at her partner for her deadpan denial of Ruby's claim. "Well, until I meet another person with Silver-Eyes that's what I'm calling them."

Asia has shrunken back in on herself after Ruby's loud-ish declaration and started blushing a bit. "But, your powers are actually useful. I'm no good unless someone gets hurt and–"

"Don't say that!" Ruby shouts, darting over to the shorter blonde to grab her hands and stare into her eyes earnestly. "I can only break things and make messes with my powers." Point in case, the ever-growing scattering of petals on the ground around them from her darting about like the over-excitable gremlin Weiss' best friend is. "You can actually help people with healing, and I can't even show you guys whatever it is my eyes do because I just found out about them and I no one is around who can teach me about them who actually knows about them so I don't know if they'll hurt D-Devils like you like they do Grimm or not. You can heal anyone!" Ruby pauses, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "Can you heal anyone?"

Asia nods timidly. "I…yes I can. Devils, humans, Angels and Fallen Angels." She pauses for a moment before adding, "Even cute little birdies with broken wings."

Weiss and Ruby share a chuckle, before a small spinning blue snowflake spirals off the other white-haired girls shoulder to leave a tiny, spectral crow crouching on it, preening itself distractedly. "Poor birdy." Ruby chuckles mostly to herself. Weird. Whatever. The taller girl looks back over to Asia. "But you just proved my point. Your power lets you actually save people. Mine? I mean it's pretty awesome but no good if someone's already hurt too badly."

Asia smiles and replies with a touched 'thank you' to Ruby, but Koneko still has a few questions for the answer-girl. "Yo. Not to break up the heart-to-heart, but I still have a few questions." When the other three girls all pause to look over at her, she nods before continuing. "So, if Auras are supposed to be some super-awesome soul-shield, how come Snow Princess' broke on live TV when she was shaking some old dude's hand?"

Weiss face goes a bit weird, but she gets it back under control pretty quickly. "That's because I was still learning control. When your still trying to keep it up constantly, and stuck playing that stupid Aura-Check game it's all about being able to have it up subconsciously, and to raise it without needing to think when your in danger." Koneko and Asia both nod. That much makes sense. "So, when I had to politely greet the sleazy old man who'd spent the months leading up to Winter's eighteenth birthday bringing up arranged marriages to my father every time he visited the Manor, then started eyeing me like a piece of meat after Winter left for Basic Training and wasn't available for something like that anymore, I was a touch distracted."

Ruby snorts. "I mean, it could be worse. Coco had hers give out on her when one of the other girls shoulder-checked her on the runway."

Weiss shoots Ruby a confused look. "Since when did you pay attention to models and fashion?"

Ruby waves her partner off. "Never did, but when our RA turned out to be the Coco Adel and Jaune gave us those discount vouchers to try to apologize, I got curious and looked up some of her videos. That one was right up there with all the boring fashiony stuff."

Koneko blinks at the pair of older girls for a few seconds before asking "Coco?"

"Our RA is a somewhat famous model, for people our age at least. And–" Weiss cuts herself off as her phone-scroll-starts rattling off a militant sounding song. A small, excited smile crawls across Weiss face before she turns to face Ruby. "Finish explaining, no embellishments." before stalking off to a secluded corner of the room.

"Umm, yeah, so Coco hadn't told anyone outside her family that she wanted to quit modeling to become a huntress. I don't think she'd even have gotten her acceptance letter from Beacon back yet when that happened, forget about actually having passed Initiation. But she still had to do a whole big press conference about how she'd be slowing down her modeling stuff if she made it into Beacon and planned to stop once she gets her license and all that." Ruby pauses, racking her brain for more details probably. "I think she'd been writing a few articles for some fashion magazines, like the ones aimed at adults not kids like us, and all that went away and... yeah. It was a great big mess for her."

Cool story. Maybe Koneko will care more if she meets the girl and decides she likes her. More importantly… "So, what'd Arc do that he needed to make something up to your team?"

The crimson fringed girl twitches and shoots a mostly toothless glare over at the blond in question. Huh, looks like something the Snow Princess said caught Rias' attention. And not in a good way. "Well, Jaune didn't tell most of my team about his being Devils or, you know, having been killed and reincarnated until a few weeks ago." Koneko almost winces, while Asia outright flinches–but that may be 'cause she's still not over that Fallen bitch's torture–Yeah, that's a good reason to be mad at someone. "So, aside from discounts on designer clothes he's been giving us what his team managed to figure out from one of our professors who likes to hide lessons in really weird, boring stories, and punched out a few jerks who were spreading rumors about..." She flushes a bit and looks off to the side, clearly not really comfortable with whatever it is people had been saying. "Just, nasty gross rumors about my team."

Eesh. Yeah, that'd do a number on a friendship. The three of them fall into an awkward silence for a while at that. "So, if Ms. Coco was doing so well, why'd she want to quit?" Asia tries to break the silence by walking the conversation back, and normally that'd be a good plan.

Unfortunately for the naive, sheltered girl, Koneko is pretty sure she knows the answer to that question, and Ruby's still blushing face speaks to her at least having a pretty good idea as well, but not really in a place to say anything. Koneko tilts her head to face Asia. "If even half of the stories I've heard are true, some of the stuff a girl's gotta do to even get a foot in the door us Devils have specialists getting summoned for. Apparently it gets even worse if you wanna keep the job or move up and your agents scummy enough." Asia's face goes crimson, and Ruby mumbles something about her RA having dodged that stuff, but neither girl looks like they're in any place to talk. Great.

Ruby clears her throat and asks, "So… what's it like with Rias?" Asia's eyes absolutely light up as she lights into a rapid-fire recounting of her life with the Church, then Fallen Angels as a 'Holy Maiden'. From being put up on a pedestal to reprimanded and punished for healing a Devil to her excommunication and falling in with the Fallen and their eventual betrayal and attempt to tear her soul out to turn her Sacred Gear into some sort of portable healing buff or whatever. Ruby is enthralled at first before turning sad and then finally shocked and horrified.

Koneko winces to herself, she was there for Asia's rescue from that Raynare bitch, the Holy Maiden tale she'd only heard bits and pieces of.

When Asia launches into a gushing, starry-eyed description about what life in Rias peerage and living with Issei and his family is like by comparison Ruby goes almost as starry-eyed as Asia is as she gushes. But not before glomping onto her, relaying just how glad she is that Asia is okay and promising to buy her all the sweets she'd ever ask for.

Ugh. Should've left when she had an out. Then again…

Koneko returns her attention to the other two girls, still happily chirping back and forth at each other. Ruby talks about her dream of helping people as a Huntress like most of her family apparently had.

Asia is gonna have to find out eventually anyways and wouldn't hurt a wasp if it stung her somewhere sensitive. Forget about spreading around someone's secrets. And Ruby? Well, if things are on the mend between her team and Arcs it's probably only a matter of time before she's in his Peerage, and the girl seems to be like a less pervy girl version of Issei with how aggressively friendly and well meaning she can be.

Ruby's looking like she may ask her about her past too pretty soon. Hmm… Fuck it. The roundabout way it is. They'll probably figure it out eventually, but she's banking on both of them being too polite to point that out or jump to some other wild conclusion with how naive the pair of smiling, nodding girls are. "Once upon a time, there were two cats, one black and the other white…"

Blake looks over at the other raven-haired girl, who, aside from some idle chatter had eaten with Blake in companionable silence after the two of them had been chased away from the others over the alluring aroma that they described as the 'horrible stench' the anchovies on the pizza the two of them had wound up splitting. While it had been nice to have someone to share a pizza with that she isn't related to, half the point of her asking for one of the pizzas to have anchovies was a few days worth of guaranteed 'safe' leftovers for her to snack on waiting for her in the little fridge in the Common Room back at the dorms.

Oh well, at least there's a few slices for her to enjoy later left, and none of it will go to waste.

The Devil shoots a curious look across the section of bleachers they'd ambled over to, before asking "So, what's your reason?"

Blake blinks nervously back at the other girl. "My reason?"

Akeno shrugs. "For why you're hiding your second pair of ears behind your bow."

Blake's eyes go wide and her mouth opens, before sighing and sliding the bow off and slides it into her pocket, letting her ears free. "What gave me away?"

The longer-haired girl snickers. "Well, there's no breeze in here, and the bow kept twitching."

Blake's face twitches and as if to prove Akeno's point, her ears twitch along with it. She'd known that especially observant people would probably see right through the 'disguise' when she decided to use it after leaving the White Fang, but she hadn't expected to meet so many of them.

The older girl leans in with a teasing look, "But if you want a more esoteric answer, I happen to be quite adept at sensing the energy of others. You, and other Faunus, have a different–Hmm, aura, I suppose is the best way to describe it–than humans do to those of us who can sense things like that."

…

Oh. Ruse had mentioned that sensing energy was a skill most supernatural beings can learn and would be wise to spend time developing.

Akeno nods "I didn't mean to bring up anything you're ashamed of, if that's the case. I was just curious."

Blakes eyes shoot open. "Oh, it's not that I'm ashamed of being a Faunus. It's just... I made some stupid mistakes, worked with the wrong people for a while and now I have to pay the price for that." She pauses awkwardly. "Ironically, those same people see me as 'just another human' when my ears are covered." She pauses, ears flicking back towards her skull. "I'm... pretty sure some of them would do their level best to kill me out in broad daylight if they recognized me."

Akeno tuts playfully, "Sounds like someone fell in with the wrong crowd~" She tosses back the last of the soda in her cup. "What did your parents think of that life choice? Not that I'm judging you, I am a Devil, after all." She caps that statement off with a wink and a jaunty flick of her fingers at her… impressive chest.

Blake shoots a light scowl at the other girl. "They were disappointed that I didn't leave with them when they saw the writing on the wall. They founded a civil rights group, and left before it was turned into something else by the increasingly angry people who had joined their movement expecting change to come quickly."

"Hm. I suppose at least my father isn't one of the crazy ones." Akeno muses aloud to herself, clearly at a loss for where to go with the conversation hadn't gone in the direction she'd expected it to.

"I mean, at least the two of you know who your parents are." Nora quips, having snuck up on the both of them and causing them to very nearly jump out of their skins in surprise at her joining the conversation.

Akeno shrugs. "My father is the reason my mother was killed, so I don't count knowing who he is as that much of a gain." If looks could kill, the flat stare Nora has directed at Akeno for her callous dismissal of her family would be more than enough to get the job done. "From what I've heard of her father," She idly glances over her shoulder at Weiss. "we might be able to find some common ground, I suppose." Akeno stares as the heiress engages in a pretty heated looking conversation with Rias.

Nora rolls her eyes and shifts over to Blake, who takes a step away from the now clearly riled up ginger hammer-maiden. "And you, missy! Have you even told your mom and dad that you left the cult yet?"

"I… umm, I've been trying to figure out the best way to start the conversation?" Nora crosses her arms and starts tapping her foot, glower still firmly affixed on her face. Akeno turns back with a slight smile, clearly enjoying watching Blake squirm. "Look, it's definitely not something I can just text them, and probably important enough that even a Scroll-call would be a little too impersonal of a way to have that talk." Nora calms a bit at that. "It's not like I can magically cram the two months at sea it takes to get to or from Kuo Kuanna into a single weekend both ways either." Nora arches an eyebrow, and holds out her left hand, a plain magic circle spinning to life above it. Blake lets out a frustrated growl at what the other girl is implying before sighing in defeat and confessing, "Okay, fine, I'm ashamed…Of how I treated them. And of some of the things I said before they left and I chose to stay."

An awkward silence hangs over the trio for a few moments after that admission. "So, I thought you had just went to make like Pyrrha and spend some time with Ren. Why'd you join us so soon?" Akeno asks the shorter girl to break the silence. "Not that I'm not happy to hang out with you or anything, Nora."

Nora shrugs, and nods over towards where Issei is now sat awkwardly between Jaune and Ren. "Didn't wanna get caught up in the middle of 'guy talk' so I figured I'd see what the two of you were getting up to."

Before either of them can reply, the low din of conversation is cut through by the sparring rings 'ring out' alarm blaring. Everyone's heads swivel down to see what had happened. Yang is slowly pushing herself back up to her feet and rubbing at the back of her head, while Koneko stands proud and somewhat smugly in the ring, still in a combat stance, brushing her hands off. "Man, you really weren't kitten around when you said you were the strongest girl in the room!" The blonde crows as she finds her feet and starts striding towards the ring again. It takes her a few moments to realize that the rest of the room had gone silent. At least until Koneko turns her back on her to pointedly and grumpily walk away, and Kiba lets out a loud, snorting guffaw of a laugh, nearly folding himself over double. From her spot next to him in the bleachers where they'd been watching the 'match' Pyrrha casts a concerned and confused glance at Rias' Knight.

Of course Yang is the one to drop a corny pun entirely on accident and get a laugh out of someone for it. And since it isn't Jaunes place to explain that it really isn't that much of a stretch or typically lame pun, he's gonna have to leave her on the hook. "Totally not fair." Issei grumbles more-or-less to himself as he plops down on the seat Rias had been in a few minutes ago. "If I'd laughed at a joke that lame coming from a babe like Yang I'd totally get glared at for 'trying too hard.'"

Jaune is only half-listening to the younger guy's rant as Yang chirps something about another round at Koneko, who nods and falls into a loose approximation of Yang's stance. It's adorable, in a terrifying sort of way.

Issei continues. "Jerk like Kiba gets to laugh at it and he gets a smile from her, the stupid pretty-boy." Pyrrha reaches over to mute the Aura-level alarm on the arena's control panel down below them, as the youngest Devil's Aura is bouncing wildly enough to set off several of the different alarm tones built into the system. "How the heck did you guys do it?!"

Ren glances over to Issei, clearly having either just tuned in to his rambling, or like Jaune having been pretending to not notice it. "Do what?" He prompts dryly as Pyrrha toggles the switch to start the 'match' between the pair of brawlers. Koneko bum-rushes straight at Yang, who actually side-steps the shorter girl's uppercut–and holy crap, seeing someone with less subtlety in a fight when compared directly to Yang is weird–and plants a counter-jab squarely between her attacker's shoulder-blades. Not that it does much of anything more than add a stutter to Koneko's step, but a clean hit's still a clean hit.

Issei shoots a weird sort of 'you must be stupid' sort of look at Ren, before gesturing first to Nora then to Pyrrha. "You guys both showed up to Riser's stupid party as single as me, and then after a few weeks"– More like a month and a half, but who's counting, really?–"you both are dating total babes!"

"Honestly, pure dumb luck." Jaune offers with a sheepish chuckle.

Ren nods. "I may have been willfully ignorant of what was directly in front of me for longer than is reasonable, or even entertaining."

"Really, you guys can't throw a brother a bone?" Issei grumbles, his exasperated expression going something between frustrated and betrayed.

Yang dodges yet another of Koneko's wild rushes, only for the follow-up to clip her hip and send her sprawling to the ground. "So, Kiba! Have ya heard the one about the train and the bananas?" Yang shouts to her fellow blond where he's sat outside the ring observing.

"If you force me to listen to that again I'm shaving your head in your sleep, Yang!" Ruby shouts from where she and Asia are still snacking and chatting. The threat earns her a concerned look from Asia, to whom Ruby is quick to explain herself.

Issei is still looking at either him or Ren waiting for a response. Well, Jaune knows he really isn't the guy to go to for advice on stuff like this, but he figures he can at least try. It's not like he could really hurt the pervs chances with the ladies if his advice flops. Jaune shrugs "For starters, pick one girl–"

"One girl, but–"

"Yeah, I know, Harem King. Me and half the Underworld have heard you screaming about it already." Jaune cuts the guy off before the oncoming rant from the brunette can further disrupt the advice he had been asking for. "You still gotta start somewhere, and making one girl happy just might be enough to get others to give you a shot." At least, Jaune thinks that's how all the guys with Harems that aren't ridiculously smooth ladies-men or mind-altering sleazebags had started out.

Ren nods. "Don't underestimate the small things, and make sure the girl is someone you already share a bond with, not the prettiest face of the day you can put a name to the day you decide to start trying for real." Issei's expression softens, and he sneaks a quick glance at Rias and then Asia before returning his attention to the pair of guys he'd more-or-less cornered for advice. Yang slides around yet another straight-in punch from Koneko, million-watt grin spread wide across her face as the smaller girl scowls up at her.

Yang launches a right-hook to counter her current partner's miss, only for the diminutive Rook to catch her wrist in a vice-like grip, step into her guard to catch her elbow with her other hand, pivot in place and launch the blonde brawler over her shoulder, out of the ring and into the far wall with enough force to crack the concrete. After sliding to the ground, and pushing herself to her feet, Yang shoots a thumbs-up at the younger girl. "Great spar, kiddo. You're a quick study!"

"You're not a half-bad teacher at this stuff." The white haired girl shoots back, taking a few experimental jabs as she ambles out of the sparring ring. Yang struts back into the ring, still bouncing on the soles of her feet and clearly eager for more.

Jaune elbows Issei in the gut playfully as the guys eyes all but glue themselves to Yangs bouncing boobs. "Ren makes Nora pancakes a few times a week–"

"Did you just imply that pancakes are a small thing for Nora?" Ren playfully cuts him off, a small grin on his typically serene face.

Jaune just rolls his eyes. "Hey, I'm already trying to give relationship advice to a guy who allegedly thinks it's fine to talk about porn in public–"

"Hey! Not cool, dude!" Not helping your case there buddy, that was an easy out.

"-I'm not even going to begin trying to explain the ins and outs of Nora Valkyries mind to him." Jaune presses on, ignoring the other guys indignant protests. "No, seriously, I'm pretty sure Rens the only guy who actually 'get's' her is Ren, and that whatever rumors about you made the trip all the way from Earth to the Underworld then over to us here on Remnant are pretty blown out of proportion." Jaune adds with a grin and a placatory gesture. There's a pretty fine line between a bit of good natured fun and being a dick, and he definitely doesn't want to be flirting with that.

Ren nods "And if the rumors are more true than not, I'm sure any girl worth your attention and affection will enjoy at least some of what your devious mind can come up with."

That chases away the last vestiges of disgruntled affront from the brunette dudes face. "Oh? Do you already have some saucy stories about what you've been getting up to with Nora? I did mention before that she's a total babe and I think your stupidly lucky to be her man."

Ren shrugs. "I am, but her looks are the least reason for that." Issei's enthusiasm abates a bit when Ren doesn't react to his excitement, but he does hold eye contact with with the quieter teen. "And if there was anything like what you're hoping I'll start bragging about going on between her and I, a gentleman never tells."

"Alright, playboy! No more running, you're up now!" Yang all but shouts, causing Issei, and Jane and Ren to a lesser extent, to freeze up in momentary and irrational fear. None of them had done anything that should even have slightly annoyed the blonde brawler all day. When they notice that she's pointing at Kiba and none of them. Which makes even less sense as Kiba is about as polite and respectful towards girls as it is physically possible for a guy to get as far as Jaune knows.

"Playboy? Me?" The blond in question asks, pointing confusedly at his chest.

Yang nods, and cocks Ember Celica as she lowers the arm she had been pointing at him with. "Yup, you're the guy who thought that he could get away with playing around with me last time we had a spar, and now you get to make it up to me!"

The incredibly confused Kiba looks around the room, where pretty much all other conversation has stopped, as the gathered Teams and Peerages watch the spectacle unfolding down in the sparring ring below them. "How is it that I can do that?" He asks, the confusion evident on his face just as clear on his voice.

"We're gonna spar, and you are gonna take. Me. Seriously." Yang chirps far too chipperly at Kiba for the ominous shade of red her eyes had shifted.

Issei looks first at Ren, then over to Jaune, neither of whom look surprised. "Dudes, she does realize that he's gonna kick the crap out of her if he goes all out, right?"

Ren nods and Jaune sighs a bit. "Hasn't stopped her from trying to get everyone in my Peerage to go all out against her every night when we train since she got over the initial shock of finding out we're Devils." Jaune deadpans as Kiba shrugs awkwardly and stands to make his way down to the sparring ring.

If the other blonde guys casual grin is any indicator, he's definitely not taking Yang all that seriously yet. That said, his aura is fluctuating a bit less than Konekos had been when the display switches out the younger girls information for Rias' knight. Jaune looks over to Ren "Twenty lien says Kiba isn't taking Yang seriously enough yet and gets knocked out of the ring on the second exchange for it."

Ren let's out a thoughtful humm. "It'll happen on the first."

"Screw you guys! Kiba's gonna wipe the floor with her the whole time they're down there!" Issei crows before loudly calling for Kiba, "Kick her ass, bro!"

Still serenely smiling, Kiba manifests a fairly plain looking sword in his off hand and raises it in a lazy salute. The buzzer signalling the matches start goes off, and Kiba darts forward. At the start of the year, hell even two months ago, it would have been more than enough speed to overwhelm Yang and claim an easy victory.

Now though? After the training from hell that Yang–well, all of Team RWBY really–had been putting themselves through since the Breach? Yang catches Kiba's lazy horizontal slash with her left gauntlet, and for a moment the pair appear frozen in place.

Jaune can't see Yang's face, but he'd like to imagine that Kiba had been looking her in the eyes as hers turned crimson. Her hair turning fiery is enough for Jaune to know that she had tapped into her Semblance before the summoned sword shatters in the brawler's grip, and her right fist rockets into Kibas gut and launches him from the ring and into the far wall.

As Yang saunters over to the ring's edge, hair once again hair instead of fiery aura-stuff Ren shoots a satisfied look at Jaune and Issei as they fish their wallets from their pockets, the brunette grumbling while he does it. "So!" Yang chirps, leaning over the arenas edge and probably grinning like a crazy lady. "Are ya gonna get back in here and start taking me seriously, or just lay down there and be a sword loser?"

When Kiba lets out a long, wheezing laugh, Weiss immediately tunes her teammate out. Xiao-Long can be absolutely insufferable with how long she will keep at the puns with the rest of her team trying to stop them. Weiss has no intention of finding out how long she will go on when someone is actively encouraging, or, Brothers forbid, joining her in the inanity.

She glances over at her fellow heiress and considers how this conversation had gotten so, heated. "I believe that we got off on the wrong foot today, Rias." Weiss offers, knowing that she had been a touch emotional, when Rias had confronted her over what her and Winter had been discussing. Really, using the family name to bully his way onto a military base, and then try to stow away on Winter's ship? Had it been any other Specialist officer he could have been arrested for attempted treason, or worse, shot on the spot!

"I did hear you and your elder sister jointly lambasting your younger brother, didn't I?" Rias asks her, one of her eyebrows arching as she looks away from the arena and over towards Weiss.

Weiss growls, but remains calm. Alienating Rias would not only make further repairing her teams friendships with Jaune's more difficult, but it would be the height of foolishness politically as well. So Weiss' focuses on the good news-that Winter is, finally, coming to Vale and may even stay for the entire tournament-to maintain her calm and ignore the more frustrating developments she had shared with Weiss. "Considering what he had done was likely at Father's request and could have very well resulted in him being arrested or worse, a bit of a dressing down is the least he deserved from Winter, and a bit of ranting to relieve the stress that came with having to do that is perfectly understandable."

The taller, curvier redhead turns away from the arena below them where Kiba is now regularly using his enhanced speed to avoid Yang's attacks and get around her guard, while the other blond attempts-mostly failing-to engage her Semblance just for hits she wants to put just a bit more power behind. Mostly she activates too early and forces Kiba to back off, or holds it longer than is strictly needed to deliver a single strike and gets outmaneuvered by the more agile blond. Rias glances back at her with a saddened air. "Do you honestly think so little of your brother?"

Weiss scoffs. "No, I think that lowly of my father, who has dismantled every single community outreach program Grandfather established as he built the SDC since he started dying his hair after marrying mother and took the family name. Who is very nearly the sole reason that the SDC is synonymous with racism and immoral business practices, as well as why Winter was disinherited and nearly disowned for attending Atlas Academy then joining the military instead of subjecting herself to his private tutelage and has been personally seeing to Whitley's education since he was old enough for his to begin."

Rias lets out a disapproving sigh. "Your father, who has been acting so out of sorts lately that your mother actually took note, despite spending most of her time at the bottom of a bottle, or chasing one-by your own description and admission-sobered up enough to form her own personal staff separate from Jacques'." She holds up a finger to forestall any arguments Weiss may be preparing. "Who then took it upon herself to double down on that decision and flee not only the family manor, but the Kingdom of Atlas entirely, despite still having what can be a very high maintenance addiction that will be difficult to satisfy in the wilderness compared to a well stocked and staffed manor in the heart of society."

"I… can't argue with any of the points you made, but am not entirely sure what you are attempting to get at." Huh, all that etiquette training is coming roaring back to life. At least she won't have to worry about making a fool of herself the next time she has to go home.

"Both Jaune and Ravel told me that you are smart, Weiss." Rias chides her in a way that has her feeling far younger and less nobly born than she is. Being the younger sister of the King of an entire World will get you skills like that, she supposes. "So, if your mother's smart enough to see there's trouble, and your brother's soaked up even half of what your father has to offer…"

Weiss suppresses a wince. Memories of the diminutive menace that had cornered her in the Manor's motorpool the day she had left for Vale to gloat about how his 'foolish barbarian oaf of a sister moving a step closer to being disinherited' warring with those of the brilliant little tyke that wanted to impress his big sisters with the perfect marks he'd gotten on his latest tests. Weiss lets out a mirthless laugh. "No, father has been exacting in his efforts to educate Whitley. His own actions having left public opinion of our family far too poor to leave Whitley's education in the hands of anyone outside of the family."

Rias says nothing for a moment. "I am lucky-" She pauses to grin and cast a sidelong glance at Asia and then Issei as Yang shatters yet another summoned sword of Kiba's to no greater effect down in the sparring ring. "-and that is the safest verbage a Devil such as myself can employ to describe having as healthy, happy and loving of a family as I do. Most Devils my age have a parent, grandparent, uncle, aunt or some other ancestor at least as bad as you describe your father. You and Winter don't need to leave Whitley behind to save the family. "The youngest generation of Schnees would be better served standing together than they would apart." Rias offers her a reassuring smile. Weiss can't help but feel her defenses go down at the sight. "And if you need to liberate your little brother from the grasp of your father and whatever has been influencing him, I know that my nephew has led a similar life thanks to Sirzechs' protractors and enemies, and would love to make a friend."

Weiss thinks it over and slowly nods, "When Winter arrives, I will endeavor to get a better idea of the situation back home, and Whitley's disposition in case things come to that." She pauses, and offers the Devil stood to her right hand. "I trust I can count on your support if things turn out as poorly as I am afraid they will?" Rias slips a sheet of paper with a summoning circle on it into her hand in response.

Surprised, Weiss looks up at her, with Rias giving her a wink. Weiss is even more surprised when the redhead squeezes her hand caringly.

"Family is family, Weiss, and the House of Gremory is all about family."

---

So, yea. Running a story with a big-ass cast like Wheel of Time/Bleach where you only have the characters you need showing up for any given scene is great and all up until you have fucking 15 of them all in the same room. The gangs more-or-less back together though, and new friendships/bonds are forming left right and center. Everything's gonna be fine, right?

Beta'd by MasterPrince713 and Hybrid Theory

Loved it? Hated it? Just had a bit of grey matter drip out of your nostril and are a bit worried something may be wrong? Drop me a review! I love that shit!