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?

40. 40 Tournament Daze I: Warm-up Laps

A/N: Whew, this one fought back. Well, one scene in this one. It got re-written more-or-less completely something like three and a half or four times. So a bit late, and a bit big, but here we are!

I dont own RWBY, I dont own High School DxD or make a single iota of fungible currencey off of this. Please don't sue me!

The Rose family and related flashbacks are from Joey245s amazing The Bureau: Summer-Declassified.

Hidden in this chapter are two easter-eggs! Ones a William Dafoe paraphrase, and the others from Kung Fu Panda.

Right, that was a mouthful, but here we go!

---

Yang ambles past her baby sister towards the cliff's edge, sliding her aviators off her face once she passes by the younger girl.

Not that she doesn't trust Ruby to not rat her out to Dad, but Rubes gets even more rambly when she's feeling emotional, and, well...

"Hey, Mom." She starts as she drops down onto the grass in front of the marker. "It's… Ahh, it's been a while." She blows out a sigh, tilts her head to the side and reaches out with her right arm to softly run her hand over one of the lines from Mom's favorite poem–she'd actually gotten her Semblance's name from it–engraved under her name. Mom's headstone is right at the tip of Team STRQ's favorite cliff–they'd bought up enough of it for all four of their final resting places to fit here way back when they'd bought the plot the Rose-Xiao Long house had been built on–though she isn't sure if all of them will end up here at the end.

Some people are weirded out by potentially being over someone's remains, or where those will go, which Yang gets. But if you ask her, it's just kind of a thing you deal with at any gravesite or graveyard outside one of the Kingdoms' official Huntsman Rests: if there aren't someone's remains underneath you, it's either a path, or there will be eventually. And what's more, it's just got a tightly sealed box of Mom's old stuff buried under it; another hazard of the lifestyle…

[[She'd been barely five years old at the time. Months had passed before Dad had finally sorted through enough of the shit going on in his head to think of Mom's funeral arrangements. The actual funeral had been all ceremony and symbolism and she just hadn't got it. At all. Usually Huntsmen and Huntress' wakes are more of a celebration of life than something sad or serious, with tales of slain monsters, daring rescues and mighty feats traded around. Drinks are shared and toasts offered up to the fallen heroes' memory being par for the course. But Summer Rose? She'd done so much for so many others that both her official memorial service and wake had had dozens of men, women and children from around the world in attendance. Even Headmaster Ozpin had made an appearance–it's where she'd first met him. Poor Ruby had fallen asleep before she got the chance, but Yang couldn't blame her–she'd barely been three years old at the time.]]

"So. I know Ruby probably talked your ear off about Beacon so I'll skip on that. Well, I mean Rubes has done a pretty good job keeping me in line. Only wrecked one nightclub all year, and we still haven't maxed out Dad's Huntsman Insurance policy's collateral fund for the year." She chuckles a bit. "But, I bet there's some stuff Rubes left out. Like how me, Nora and Blake spent like, four hours yesterday tryin' to calm Pyrrha down. Poor girl's a mess of nerves and insecurities when it comes to that date Jaune and her have later today, Ruby was, well, she blushed and ran away to the library to study after like, five minutes." Yang lets out an honest peal of laughter at the memory. It's gonna be so much fun to tease her baby sister once she finds her special someone. "It's not all funny stories and school drama though, it's just–ahh, well, I told you how black-and-white she likes to try to paint things most of the time, so I'll fill ya in on what she's probably still trying to ignore or bury."

Yang finds herself smirking and closing her eyes to picture Mom's face. That wry, impish smirk she got when she knew Yang was causing mischief on purpose on her pale, graceful face. The look that meant she knew she ought to chide Yang to be nicer to Ruby, or behave, or stop messing with the adults or other kids; but was too amused by Yang's antics to actually do it.

Damn, Yang misses her.

Yang rambles on before she thinks about that for too long and starts choking up. That… that'll happen later. Always does when she stops by to 'visit.' "Speaking of Jaune and Pyrrha… We found out that apparently magic is an actual thing! No joke, everyone on our sister team–Team Juniper, they're pretty cool–aren't even human. And nah, I don't mean like they are all Faunus in disguise or something. That's Blake, my partner actually, she's pretty cool... and pretty hot, but her and the monkey-man are cute together though, so, well, yeah. She's also got a sister from another mister who's super-hot, totally into bad boys like me and flirts with everything that moves too and well…" Awkward self reflection and confused, crossed-up emotions and all that crap can come later.

Yang rambles on a bit more about Beacon, how only a handful of her old buddies from Signal aside from Nora had made it through Initiation–none of them had died, thank the Brothers–her new friends and classes and just how amazingly Ruby's been doing as a Team Leader. She lets out a chuckle. "Okay, sorry, I'll stop. I know Ruby probably already went over this stuff, but, well..."

She's crap with this deeper stuff, and trying to have a 'talk' with a memory is just, well...

"So! Magic and the royal mess of my dorky buddies waiting way too long to come clean to us." Yang interrupts herself, before rambling out the basics. How Devils are actually–well, in her experience at least–pretty cool, just people with an extra power on top of Semblances that live way longer than humans. How there are other species out there on top of them, and a whole secret world just beneath the surface of the one they live in.

On Earth, at least. Jaune had been pretty clear on how all the Supernatural crap had just made its way to Remnant. Maybe? Remnant's got plenty of fairy tales and folklore; who's to say what stories are legit and what's just smoke and cultural traditions?

Those big existential questions aside, now that the tension's died down, it's been pretty fun hanging out with JNPR again, plus Rias' crowd. It hadn't been too fun getting her face wiped with a room by Ruse–And she will get that big, stupid giant back for that–but having a rival like her is something she didn't think she'd need to be motivated, but here she is.

So yeah! Between another world, new friends and a new rival, life's gotten pretty sweet. Except…

"Well, I think he was downplaying how big of a mess things really are. The only reason my Team found out when we did is because we were trying to back up his team. We, umm, well, I know that it's part of the job and something I'll probably have to deal with eventually. But running across people that you thought were just starting out like you caught up in a life or death fight and just, just killing the people they were up against is..." She takes another deep breath. Those Fallen assholes were gonna kill everyone on JNPR. They already had played a part in forcing three of them to need to be brought back from the dead. "Sorry, Mom, it's just, been a lot to deal with and unpack... Ya know?"

"So, yeah… That's basically it, normal life layered on top of all the supernatural stuff. It's not all sunshine, rainbows, cool superpowers and getting to live for a few thousand years at your peak. Oh, that's a thing too, Devils can turn other people into Devils. Even cheat death to do it. Kinda need a freshly dead body though, heh. So I'm guessing we're kinda…"

She takes a deep, steadying breath.

"Too late." She waits for a beat, half hoping that some hologram or something to super-secret map to where Mom's body actually is will pop up to start some super-epic, globe-trotting-getting-your-mom-back quest.

Nothing presents itself, of course.

Is it childish? A bit escapist? Yeah, maybe. But a girl can dream.

She averts her gaze skyward, watching the clouds slowly crawl past as she rambles. "But, yeah, there's a whole lot, and some of the species hiding in the shadows have more jerks than decent people. Hell, even the ones I know the most about have some real pieces of work mixed in with the people running the show. Kuroka–that's that super-hot sister from another mister of Blake's I mentioned before–She and her little sister got made into a Devil by a real nasty asshole. And now she's kind-of a bigger criminal than my ex-terrorist bestie. But hey, if ya gotta go on an epic, multi-world crime spree to save your sister, that's just the way the cookie crumbles. She's good people, I guess..."

Yang pauses, her feelings on that mess of a situation tumbling about chaotically in her head.

On the one hand, she feels admiration and a kinship with the reincarnated Nekoshou; If someone tried to pull crap like that with Ruby, there's no force on Remnant–or any other world for that matter–that'd keep them safe from her. And she lived life how she saw fit, taking each new adventure at a time. Not to mention strong as hell–the less said of the 'spar' Yang heckled her into the better. Add to that having a strong enough sense of self and willpower to avoid transforming into a monster like Jaune had said most Stray Devils do? Yeah, Kuroka's a badass, and Yang respects the hell out of that.

On the other hand, Yang had nearly throttled Kuroka after she'd admitted to up and abandoning her little sister after, well, after. Sure, Kuroka honestly admitted that she was guilty as all hell, and did what she did to protect her from having to live as a fugitive too, so the stray black cat had chose to lie low on Remnant once she got here. For a while, at least.

Kinda makes Yang wonder, and maybe wish a bit, that her own birthmother had a reason like that for leaving her. Maybe not a good choice, but one that makes sense, that people could sympathize with. More importantly, would she have been so selfish as to drag Ruby into the fire with her if she'd been in Kuroka's shoes? Trapped in an impossibly bad situation like they'd been?

Crap, she's getting off track again.

She scratches at the back of her head. "Sorry about that, just… lost in my thoughts, ya know? Now where was I… oh, yeah, Beacon stuff and Blake being my bestie. It isn't that Leg-Breaker and I had a falling out or anything, it's just… different Teams, different priorities, right? The two of us didn't grow apart, just, the girls I'm risking my life with and for damn near every day got closer. You know how it is, right?"

The gravestone doesn't reply, of course. Getting it all out there feels good though, and this is easier than admitting to Dad or Uncle Qrow that they were right.

"Anyhow, I know that there's either more going on than Jaune told us or even knows about. Scary as that is to admit. Like, I don't want there to be more, but, well…"

[[Yellow flames erupting around her in a subconscious flare of her Semblance, a tiny tongue of golden flame streaking out of her mouth up at Pyrrha and Nora. Denying she'd noticed it when they asked less than ten minutes later.]]

"Hell, I'm pretty sure I'm somehow tangled up in something related to all that too, but with everything else going on I can't really force that conversation because it's just a hunch and there's bigger, more dangerous things we need to get told about normally whenever we do have a minute to talk about all that stuff…"

[["Poor widdle dragon isn't used to losing, is she?"]]

"Totally gonna find out though, 'Roka wasn't exactly subtle about her smelling something about me the two times we've hung out. I know, I know, it sounds weird but it wouldn't even be in the top ten for weird shit if that checks out at this point."

[["I suppose you could say the nose just knows."]]

Yang snorts to herself. Seriously, if she wasn't pretty sure Kuroka had eyes for someone else, she'd swear that the alley cat was trying to seduce her with all those puns. Well, that and the flirting. But Yang's pretty sure she's one of those 'flirts with everyone' kinda girls. She frowns as Kuroka's offer rattles around her head again.

[["If you're interested, I can introduce you to someone who'll be able to tell for sure. Among other things, he's real close with an expert on the subject. Consider it thanks for having Blakey's back, Little Dragon."]]

Yang thinks she knows who Kuroka'd been talking about. Whether or not she'll take the slightly older Devil up on that offer is still up in the air though.

Little Dragon…

"I'm gonna kick Dad's ass if this is something else he decided to keep from me. Especially if he tries to pull that 'for your own good' crap again." She'd like to think that he'd tell her big-deal crap like that, if only to keep her from accidentally hurting someone. Then again, it wouldn't be the first time he had catastrophically bad timing when it came to big secrets.

[["The hell are YOU crying about? She wasn't even your real mom!"]]

Taiyang Xiao Long isn't an abusive parent. He's a great Dad, and in Yang's humble opinion all the shows and movies and crap undersell just how much single parents sacrifice for and are willing to do for their kids. He'd never raised his voice at her-or more importantly Ruby like that a single time after that incident, and Yang thanks the Brothers Ruby had been too young to remember well, anything important from those months. They'd all been hurting, after Mom had… Anyway, she couldn't even begin to imagine the kind of anguish Dad'd been going through then. Brothers know Yang's said some awful things she's wished she could take back over the course of her life, and even though a small part of Yang hasn't forgiven him for that one slip… looking back at how happy him and Mom had been, and after pulling a few drunken stories about how Dad and her had been just as head over heels for each other at the start-right up to the end probably–Yang doesn't know if she'd be able to keep going if she found someone she loved that deeply, and lost them not once, but twice. Let alone be able to properly support a few kids on top of all that.

Damn it, there she goes again… Mom's grave never fails to dredge up old scars and send her mind spiraling down dark paths. It's kind of why she doesn't come out here as much as Ruby does.

A cloud passes overhead and Yang lets out a low sigh, kind-of wishing she had a bottle of water or something to take a sip from. One-sided conversations are thirsty work, apparently. "So, yeah. May just take Kuroka up on that. Or bug someone in Jaune's crew or Rias' peerage. Not Ladykiller though, he's… yeah. Not the first person I'd corner about something like that." She shifts around to look back to where Ruby and Dad are waiting patiently, chattering back and forth at each other. Yang leans back on her hands, shifting her gaze towards the sky and lets everything that's happened so far this year play back in her mind. Well, the important bits, at least. "Oh, I know you have never really said this to me, but I was still pretty young when you, ya know..."

She doesn't sniffle. Not one bit.

"But with how much Dad and Qrow tried to sneak in talks about how seeing people I know get messed up real bad or die changes you, I'm pretty sure it's kind of letting you have your I-told-you-so moment to mention that watching our teams floor of the freshman dorm hall turn into a revolving door sucked. And, yeah, I... I don't really think I have the right words to get out just how glad I am that no one on my Team wound up hurt so bad they had to drop out for the year, or, well..." Yang suppresses a shudder. Don't go there. Everything's fine, and it'll stay that way. She'll make it stay that way with as much violence as she has to to keep her little sisterhood of a Team safe and whole.

Yang leans forward again, running a hand through her golden tresses. "Hell, with how totally not-as-subtle as he thinks he's being about his open invite to get reincarnated as Devils into his Peerage Jaune's being, if Ruby or Blake want it, I'll go with'em."

So that's two offers she's got on the table. Maybe not vocally, but they're definitely there.

Oh. She frowns; she'd almost forgotten about the last member of her team, and is feeling kinda bitchy for it now. "Weiss-cream, well... now that she's acting less frosty I'm sure we'll get that close too, we just aren't yet, I guess." She'd chide herself for rambling, but that is kind of the point of doing this. "But, yeah, seeing the biggest team of bullies in our class turn into a pack of low-key stand up guys was surreal. And I'm pretty sure it was less them getting de-indoctrinated from what the rogue Fallen Angels had been feeding Cardin, and more that half of them died and got replaced by guys who either got so messed up last year they had to drop out for rehab, or were the sole survivors from their first teams." Another awkward pause. "Never really got around to figuring that out about them; having a teen-mom-team-mom of a Team Leader–and her team of people in the same boat as new Cardinal's two new guys move into our floor of the dormhall–is kinda taking up all the fucks I have to give for people outside my clique right now."

"Maybe after the tournament I can bug them some?" She lets a grin slide across her face as she faces forward again. "Oh, yeah, I'm pretty sure Ruby already mentioned that we got one of Headmaster Oz's two recommendation slots for this year's Vytal Tourney. And Ruby's still acting like she's thinking it over, but I'm totally gonna be our team's girl if we make it to the singles rounds." She slaps her knees and risesup onto her feet. "I'll tell ya all about it when I'm back for Summer break."

She casts one last glance down at the lonely slab of granite, "Great talk, Mom!" before jogging off towards Dad and Ruby.

Tai leans back into his seat on the Bullhead, resting his head against the bulkhead and letting his baby girls' excited chatter wash over him. The Huntsman of Patch lets his mind wander, eventually thinking back to his early childhood. If one had asked him way back then how he thought his life would go, this outcome: him and his girls against the world probably isn't how he'd have answered. Brothers he still isn't sure what he did to get this lucky.

And he can scarcely put into words what he'd give to have been just a hair luckier.

[[He'd been maybe seven the first time they met.

His parents hadn't been able to get a sitter so they took him with to one of the nicer farms in Vale to buy a few chickens for their estate. While the adults were busy haggling he'd decided to wander the farm. Three of the farmer's four daughters were 'too old' for him to score any points with. Looking back, he can't help but cringe as he recalls what he'd thought was suave at that age. Confidence will carry a young lad far though, and he'd managed to hit it off with the youngest sister well enough, spending most of the day with her.

In a moment of peak childhood stupidity only he could have come up with, he'd decided to climb up onto the railing of the bridge crossing the farmsteads river. Then, he'd proclaimed at the top of his lungs that he was going to cross the river on the railing to win the girl's hand. He did; for less than ten whole steps before tripping on his shoelace and fell into the river below.

He doesn't remember hearing anything, he knew the girl didn't scream for help, try to get the grownups or even take the time to shuck out of her favorite white sundress, and dove right in after him.

The current had been strong, and she'd had to work hard to follow him. The scraggly mop of golden hair on his head had probably helped her spot him better than the splash-flailing he'd been doing.

Luckily, even that young, she'd been a strong enough swimmer and managed to catch up to Tai. Of course, in his panic he'd clutched onto her with both arms and legs, trying to use her as a flotation device, and wound up pulling both of them under. As strong as her 7-year-old arms and legs had been; Tai's weight and the current had been stronger, neatly crushing most of the air from the girl's lungs in his panic.

The girl, luckily for both of them. had refused to relent. Sporting a tiny little mask of determination. she had dug deep and used what little strength she had left to overcome the current. With one arm wrapped around Tai's waist she'd started struggling towards the shore, dragging him behind her. Tai had finally found either his courage or sense at that point–probably both–ignited by hers, and he'd loosened his grip and started to kick with her, pulling her along as much as she was pulling him.

The river had wanted them to die, but her spirit had refused to let it have them.

They'd worked in tandem to cut across the river. Tai hadn't been as strong a swimmer as her but had strength enough to pull his own weight and let the girl handle hers. By the time the adults had realized what had happened, both of them had hauled themselves onto shore, and were soaking, shivering, coughing, groaning and gasping little balls of spent energy, but they were both alive.

Her name was Summer Rose and twenty years later she'd wind up marrying his damn fool self.]]

"Hey, wake up, Dad, we're almost there!" Ruby chirps as she gently shakes his shoulder to wake him up. Must have dozed off during the flight. This will be his first time back at Beacon since...

Well, in a while.

He'd traded missions with an old friend who's still active. Got back home in plenty of time to lock things up and make sure the kids he'd brought in to keep Patch safe while he was gone and still holding up fine before the girls got home. They'd spent a couple hours catching up, Ruby and Yang had switched out some of their lighter clothes for stuff more suited to fall and winter, eat lunch and drop Zwei off at a kennel before heading out... there.

He doesn't like it. It's still hard for him to get too close to the empty grave without breaking down... but it's good for his girls. Brothers know he'll do anything to ensure their happiness.

He shakes his head to clear it. The Bullhead is a nicer one. Not a combat transport for Huntsmen or light freighter, but one of the people-movers owned by one of the bigger companies operating out of the smugglers den that STRQ would probably have been able to keep a lid on just fine back when they'd signed the contract, Rae had barely started showing and he'd been more worried about finishing the cabin than what the future would hold.

Happier times.

Still, the scum know where the line is and keep their own in check, and the three bigger transport companies moving people to and from the island–including the one that owns the transport Tai and his girls have all to themselves–have enough security personnel keeping an eye on things that no one's stepped out of line and forced him to crack any skulls that aren't connected to a Grimm for a few years now.

If they try to pull something while the kids are covering for him?

Well, there's no guarantee his girls' team will take over for him when it's finally time for him to retire.

The flight is going to last a bit over three hours with the head-wind they're flying into, and he's torn between just sleeping it away, and prying at his girls for more stories about how their freshman year's been going so far.

He'd damn near had a heart attack when footage of them fighting one of Jim's new prototypes had shown up on the news a few months ago. He takes a deep breath to calm himself. They'd been fine, everything had worked out in the end with no one hurt or even upset.

He breathes out and lets his girls' happy chatter wash over him.

Plans for the tournament. What they need to focus on to pass the semester finals coming up not long after. Even a bit of speculation on what their first summer's internship mission would be. He could spoil the surprise, tell them that Oz has been sending freshman teams to month-long posting on Vale's outer wall's top since before he was a Beacon student, but decides against it. No one had given him a heads-up about that after all.

The transport touches down at Beacon, and the three of them all pile out, making room for a quartet of haggard, grumpy looking Huntsmen and Huntresses. Rough luck, getting a mission so close to the tournament, but that's just the way things go sometimes.

His girls look around for a few moments before their eyes lock on a mismatched, monochromatic pair of girls, and their eyes light up. He pounces on his girls, encasing them in the tightest bear hug he can wrap the pair in. "You girls go on, I've gotta take care of a few things while we're in Vale. We can meet up again later tonight."

Ruby and Yang both do the typical teenage grumbling about embarrassing them before they return the hug, then break it and jog off to meet with their teammates. Tai checks his scroll and decides to just wander the docks until Qrow finds him or he finds his brother-in-all-but-blood. The ex-bandit's Bullhead should have landed not too long ago, and they had agreed to meet up before they both got too busy with the tournament.

Well, before Qrow got busy, Tai fully intends to just relax with his girls, enjoy the fights, meet their teammates and, hopefully, their parents too.

He... doesn't exactly have many friends that aren't also old contacts from STRQ's more active days or co-workers and colleagues. "How was the flight?" Qrow grumbles from behind him, the scent of cheap whiskey warning him that his brother is putting on the drunk act again. Qrow never goes for gutrot when he's actually drinking.

Tai turns around, but the quip on his lips dies almost immediately. In his peripheral vision–no, wait, Qrow's in his peripheral now–he'd focused on the threat as soon as he'd noticed them. "Why didn't you warn me that there were three of them?"

"What do you…?" Qrow starts, before he trails off after following Tai's gaze. He looks at the blond teenagers, then at Tai, then back to the teens. "I… Didn't know that there were three guys that might be younger versions of you?"

Tai fixes his brother-in-law with a judgmental look as the girls' team walk past the guys, and all three smile and wave at the quartet of girls. "Wanna try saying that again with a straight face now?"

Qrow sighs. "Unless a lot has changed since I left for Pendles, the walking wardrobe malfunction has been chasing after Yang's partner nonstop since he showed up in Vale and the dorky looking one has a thing going with the Invincible Girl. The pretty boy's new, I'll admit. Probably just in town for the tournament so unless Ruby suddenly got a huge confidence boost or Yang started going after something other than the dark and brooding sort, mounds of beefcake or bad boys I think it's safe to assume the girls are safe from getting swept off their feet or into a bed." Tai doesn't let his gaze falter in the face of Qrow's flippancy. The shot-scythe wielder rolls his eye and playfully slugs Tai's shoulder. "Oh don't you give me that look. You're the one who went all overprotective parent, not me."

The kid in the hoodie waves at the other two and jogs off towards the dorms, and Tai relents. "So, how was the mission?"

Qrow deflates a lot at that. "Well, it was supposed to be a quick in and out job babysitting some freshman while they broke up a protection racket." He pauses and takes a long drag from his flask. His actual flask this time. "I wound up spending damn near a month helping screen replacements for half of the town's militia officers and something like a third of the Huntsmen and Huntresses that keep the Grimm from stumbling into town from one of the goat paths and into the settlement, and taking shifts at the gate leading into the valley dealing with the influx of Grimm brought on by people realizing that close friends or family members are actually the scum of Remnant, not the local defenders of humanity and will be going away for a long-ass time." He inhales deeply through his nose, catching his breath from the tirade before blowing the breath out through his mouth.

Tai chuckles, "So you've dealt with worse."

Qrow snorts. "Worse is edging in on Mt. Glenn, but yeah." He quips, before slipping the flask back into his jacket. Then he shrugs exaggeratedly. "Only reason things were as bad for me as they got was probably because of that mess of a breach that happened a few hours after the Arc kid's team left. I bet anyone at ground zero for, well, that was seeing spots for a few hours. Spooked the hell out of everyone who saw it on the CCTNet less than a day after their usual protection got gutted."

Tai swallows hard. He'd seen the footage too–hell, everyone in the profession had–what's worse is he knew his girls were out on their first training mission when it happened. Ruby and Yang finally answering his totally-reasonably-spaced-out calls a few hours after the news had settled down, still covered in soot, grime, blood and dust to reassure him that they were fine really hadn't had the effect they'd intended. They definitely didn't seem fine at the time; not that anyone does after catching their first glimpse of hell. Whatever had caused that 'incident' definitely hadn't been a Semblance, and the whole mess just reeks of the sort of crap Oz would hint about and lead them on with way back in the day, and why Qrow still asks for help preening every now and then. "Oz explain what that was about yet?"

"Nope." He replies, popping his p like Yang or Ruby. "Not a word about what the upcoming meeting's about either, so I'm hoping that I'll get some answers about that today. I'll let ya know if it's something big."

Tai looks over at Qrow, who now has his hands laced behind his head, and is leaned back looking into the sky. "How big are you expecting?"

"Might be a sign we're actually gonna be taking the fight to her if it really was Oz or some new ally he rustled up." Qrow replies. Tai hums. It sounds like a nice change of pace, but that would also mean that one of the few family members he has left will be in serious mortal peril again. Well, more peril than Qrow normally is in. Tai idly notes that Qrow's leading them along a pretty roundabout path to Beacon's central tower, but writes it off as his brother-in-law trying to finagle a few more minutes of downtime before he's stuck in a debrief with Oz, Ironwood and whoever else the Headmaster has helping him run things while the Festivals on. "What about your mission?"

Tai shrugs dismissively. "Oh, pretty standard stuff, just a loop route between some of the settlements outside the wall here on the mainland. Got to work with one of Solus' girls for the back half of it."

Qrow chuckles, "Ya know, not every tall blonde chick in the kingdom is an Arc, Tai."

He punches his brother's shoulder playfully. "It was the scarred up, muscle-y girl you wouldn't shut up about after that one crazy long mission you got stuck on a few years back. It was..." He fights down the lump in his throat.

It was the first extended mission Qrow had gone on after Summer had...

The ex-bandit's face twitches as he seems to be in sync with Tai, before sliding into a mischievous, if forced smirk. "Oh, Honey? Yeah, she's still an Arc last I heard, unless..."

Tai shrugs dismissively. "Never came up." He looks around, they're actually by the storage units now, and there isn't a single soul nearby. "Is there any reason you led us out this way?"

"Yeah, yeah, there is." He says seriously, all the mirth gone from his posture and voice. "Tai, Bourbon's gone."

Tai blinks once, twice, then a third and final time before he just holds his eyes shut and wilts. That tall, gentle-mannered brown haired farmer with kind brown eyes and tanned skin who'd helped him pick up the pieces after Tai'd lost his parents during his Junior year at Beacon. Time with the man's youngest daughter having been among the best of his life. If it weren't for him–partly, at least–there'd be no Summer, and without her, Tai doubts he'd have ever recovered from Raven leaving. Imagining that man hollowed out into the morose, heartbroken soul that Tai had angrily driven away; too lost in his own pain and grief to realize what he was doing, gone…

He'd taken too long. Had always figured there'd be more time to work up courage and let old wounds heal. And now Bourbon Rose, another link to Summer–her father, his own father-in-law, for the Brothers' sake–is dead.

Fuck.

[["Tai… I don't think she's coming back."]]

[["Daddy? Where's Mommy?"]]

The blond massages his temples as he forces the unwanted memories away. Straightening his back up again, he opens his eyes. "How?" He manages to ask resignedly. He's pretty sure he already knows, but it doesn't hurt to get confirmation.

Qrow purses his lips before answering, "From what Auto told me–"

Tai is vaguely aware that cutting Qrow off is rude, but his mouth is moving without thinking. "You… You've been talking…to Auto?" No trace of accusation, just surprise in his voice. After the words exchanged, feelings hurt and years of silence between him and his wife's family he doesn't have the right to take it out on Qrow. "To Autumn?" Summer's second oldest sister.

"She was usually the peacekeeper in the family. Well, when Summer or their folks didn't beat her to the punch." Qrow quips with a shrug, before wincing a bit. "Off and on… It's been kinda… awkward. And that's on top of me always being on the move and her having her own family to take care of." Qrow chuckles a bit. "I mean, we barely managed to not mess up with Yang and Ruby, I've got no clue how she managed four kids." Normally, this is the part where Tai makes one of those ribald old whole-team-Tai jokes, no matter how terrible they both think they are. But his heart isn't in it.

Georgia Rose, Summer's mother, had encouraged fortitude and independence in her daughters almost from the cradle. Even going so far as to ensure they each knew how to handle a gun starting at the ripe age of 8-years-old alongside the more typical survival training many families living near the kingdom's outskirts give their kids. It's how Summer had found her calling. Well, that and the incident with him the year before that training had started. When the Rose girls grew up they were all as strong willed and independent as Georgia had wanted, in their own way.

Perhaps a little too independent, as they'd scattered to the four winds one at a time as they turned eighteen. None of them had left Sanus, but they'd all wound up settling in different villages outside the Kingdoms' walls.

Summer had put in most of the work of keeping the family in touch. The network of contacts Team STRQ, and Summer in particular had created during their active career serving as the rope that had kept the extended Rose family together and in contact. There had never been any big Rose family reunions–not that the sisters hadn't all wanted to have one–but Grimm attacks make travel between towns too hazredous most of the time. And when the Grimm were waning, STRQ had been scrambling to find work and pay the bills.

When Summer had, well… they'd lost their main means of connection too.

Qrow had been keeping an eye on them over the years. From a distance when he could. He mentioned no sign of stronger family ties, meaning they must have drifted apart. And that, as far as Tai had thought, had been that.

Qrow shifts uneasily in the silence. "Look, I'm sorry to have kept that quiet."

Tai takes a slow, steadying breath. "No, I get it." He really does. He'd made an ass out of himself to the Rose family after Summer had… It may have been mutual, but he's the one who pulled the trigger.

Honestly, he'd nearly burned all his bridges at that time.

"Anyhow, she said Bourbon, well, indulged in a little too much of his namesake." He grimaces, clearly feeling a bit self-conscious about that. "Between the lines? He'd put down as much as I like people thinking I do in an entire day before dinner most days it sounds like. Georgia had him buried on the farm."

Tai hums sympathetically, he'd been there. If anything ever happened to Ruby or Yang he wasn't sure if he'd fare any better. Hell, he'd probably be a whole lot worse and be gone an awful lot quicker. "And how was she?"

Qrow snorts, and rolls back his jacket sleeve to show one of the weird, stretched out gouges in his arm that show up when he gets hurt in his corvid form. "Still a deadshot with an eye for crows. Maybe you'll have better luck asking her than me." Qrow deadpans.

Tai snickers half-heartedly. Oh that would go over beyond catastrophically bad.

Georgia had been… Disappointed to say the least when Tai and Qrow refused to at least turn away from any Huntsman lifestyle if not Oz's war in general. Whether as teachers or active Huntsmen. When that hadn't happened, she'd started to resent them for that too. On top of her general malaise towards the whole affair…

[["When even the miracle that was my Summer wasn't enough to rid us of this menace, or even keep her alive, carrying on as that old snake's lapdogs is the height of stupidity and delusion."]]

And that had only been the beginning of Georgia Rose's angry, heartbroken tirade. The fact that it had played a decent part in snapping Tai out of his self-indulgent depression hadn't made it hurt any less, not that that had been her intention in the first place. As a parent, he can certainly understand where she was coming from. Brothers only know how he'd react if Ruby and Yang were to ever… But they'd need to talk for him to confirm his assumptions, and she blames them almost as much as she does Oz and probably herself at this point.

Probably. So it's not like he'll be able to know that for sure any time soon.

Tai and Qrow share a somber moment. They could easily go on for hours reminiscing like the pair of old men they are, but neither of them have the time for that right now. Qrow clears his throat. "I'm telling you because the girls have extended family other than me. A grandparent who's still alive. Even if they don't get to meet each other, then at least the girls will know they're there. They deserve to know."

Tai chews on his lip as he closes his eyes. He didn't disagree… And while Georgia's words had hurt… She's still alive, and alone now. Having lost her husband on top of one of her beloved daughters. Right where he'd be if Qrow hadn't helped beat his sorry ass back into shape. A chance to see the fine young women Ruby and Yang have grown into might be just what is needed to mend fences and heal old wounds.

Qrow keeps laying on the pressure, "I'll admit Raven is one thing, and keeping her out is for the best. But can we really afford to let them find out about Summer's mother and sisters the hard way? To risk destroying their trust in us like that?" Qrow pauses to look Tai dead in the eyes. "If anything else happens and we let them miss this opportunity, they may never forgive us. Well, Ruby might, but Yang?" On Bumblebee and gone. He'd be lucky to ever see her again.

Summer's big sisters, Autumn, Vernal and Winter–Or Auto, Vern and Winn which would get amusingly confusing considering who Ruby's partner is if it weren't for those nicknames–are, yeah. Qrow's right about Ruby's possible desire to meet them, probably get to know them too. Considering Ruby's love for the mechanical, well weapons but close enough, he just knows she and her aunt Auto will hit it off. Yang? She's enough like her birthmother–still upset enough about how she had to find out about her–that he doesn't doubt for a moment missing out on a chance to meet her extended family will be the straw that breaks the camel's back.

A small, petty part of him takes solace in the fact that he won't be the only one Yang'll be mad at.

He takes a deep breath and nods slowly. "Okay…Okay." Tai takes a breath and looks back into Qrow's red eyes. "I'll tell them. But…" He grimaces.

There's no way that talk is gonna go over well. At least not at first.

"You won't have to do it alone." Qrow quips sympathetically, lazilly tossing a friendly shoulder punch Tai's way. They're both smiling at least, not that the expressions are particularly wide or joyful. But if you're gonna wind up in the doghouse, there's no need to head there alone.

The raven-haired Huntsman then fishes his watch out of one of his jacket's inner pockets, checks it and heaves a sigh. "Look, I hate to spring all that on you and run, but Oz is expecting me pretty soon. We'll talk more about how we'll go about it later, yeah?" At that, he crams the watch back into his pocket, and jogs off towards the Academy's main building.

Great, now Tai's gonna have to walk clean across campus to get down to Vale proper to run those errands. If Qrow didn't plan that on purpose, Tai swears he'll eat his boot. Without washing it.

Tai sighs to himself as he looks toward the sky, desperately wishing his Silver-Eyed Angel would deliver some sort of answer or guidance. Of course, if she was around to provide either of those, most of these problems wouldn't even need to be dealt with.

_-*R-DxD*-_

Jaune looks over to Pyrrha, the only other person in the 'cheap' luxury box he'd snagged at the dog tracks for their first date that wasn't 'safe.' Out in the Kingdom proper, where all the other movers and shakers, as well as the press and paparazzi, can mingle with them.

The box itself is pretty basic, maybe double the size of their dorm room, with a half-dozen cushy chairs lining the bank of full-wall windows, a sliding door on either edge leading to a 'balcony' that is more of a walkway or safety hazard than anything else. The windows have tinted transparent shades that can be pulled down to watch the races and agility course, but with the luxury boxes oriented along the north/south ends of the tracks, only the very earliest or latest of events need any of them drawn down.

Oh, the track staff had done their best to spruce things up after they'd seen who his 'plus one' was. All four of the portraits on the walls are of different, mostly retired, fighters Pyrrha had mentioned looking up to in different interviews. She'd even had screen-grabs of most of the matches the paintings had been of on her scroll. The staff had made a big hubbub of the oversized banquet table he is used to seeing in this sort of venue having been 'just now' swapped back out for the right sized table for the room, and all the extra chairs had been 'conveniently' stacked off to the side of the box.

Like they'd been expecting Jaune, a first year Beacon Student, to somehow be treating his entire family to a day at the races, and just happened to have booked a room filled with an equal measure of race and International Tournament Series paraphernalia decorating it. That they had noticeably overstaffed security on the top box 'Huntsman' tier is what pushed him over from begrudgingly grateful to suggesting grabbing the box on a seasonal basis for a nice 'Team Double-Date' spot starting next spring.

Well, the top layer isn't just for Huntsmen, but it is the main demographic who rent them out; a good hound can help a team out just as much as a customized truck or well-bred quartet of horses after all. Below them, and set in a bit the boxes are half again as big, with deeper balconies that are mostly shaded mostly rented out by smaller businesses, well established breeders and professional gamblers.

Below them the final layer of boxe's outer edges never get more than a drop of precipitation or hint of glare, are wholly double the size of the level above. Almost entirely owned by career politicians, the rich and famous, international corporations and/or wealthy criminals.

Pyrrha is smiling, and looks absolutely beautiful in her copper hued dress and charcoal jacket.

Jaune is pretty sure he doesn't look like a mule's ass in the set of khaki slacks and striped button-down he'd opted for.

The races are starting to heat up as the sun sets-the big breeders and race coaches finally coming out to play as the hobbyists and less successful breeders send out their best bred or trained dog before retiring for the day. They'd wandered the market square outside the tracks for a while, both having bought a few snacks and knick-knacks, but it had been more about moving a bit after having sat still for a few hours and burning time before their pass to walk around the kennels was valid.

Pyrrha had been increasingly nervous up until they left the square for the kennels. Jaune had marked a few of the people following them and–using a few tricks he'd picked up from or been outright instructed on by Sairaorg's Peerage–managed to keep the leeches from overhearing anything but idle chatter.

Pyrrha had calmed considerably when he told her while they were meeting the dogs and their owners. Good boys with their tails set to wag off them pinned with blue ribbons. Slightly less energetic animals that hadn't won but still enjoyed the exercise, treats and attention. Smaller teams of trainers and sad looking dogs cheering each other up, or trying to.

It had been nice. Fun.

They'd even met a few breeders who'd honestly and earnestly given them business cards for when their team graduated. Plenty of star-struck idiots trying to land an endorsement or quick buck too, but the two of them had had a good enough time mocking them once they got out of earshot and junked those cards or the scraps of paper with Scroll-numbers that had been shoved at them. So, yeah, a good chunk of the afternoon had went to walking around with his girlfriend and meeting happy doggos–spotting owners trying to prep for their heat and giving them the space they tend to want had been easy enough, so there hadn't been any mishaps–is a pretty damn good way to spend one if you ask Jaune. And Pyrrha seemed to agree, so it was a win-win.

Sure, a few paparazzi types had been there as well, but there isn't really any bad way you can spin petting dogs and having polite conversations with strangers. And if some fool tries to spin hand-holding as lewd or indecent, well, they'll get what they deserve.

Dinner had been nice, and when the waiter stopping by the box to give them the bill had been blatantly different from the one who'd taken their order and been checking in on them, and wearing conspicuously thick glasses, Jaune had been painfully obvious about splitting the bill. Jaune Arc is no gold-digger, and Pyrrha Nikos isn't some helpless damsel in need of a man to solve all her problems. Message sent plainly and effectively.

After that they'd settled in to digest and just enjoy the races. Pyrrha's competitive nature had reared it's head at that point, and they'd spent the next few hours betting on each heat. Not money or anything too serious. Questions answered, or pecks on the cheek, foot-rubs, post workout massages until he had won 'something special' from a flush faced Pyrrha when the days last heat had ended.

Sure, it had been a bit exhausting managing all the lessons on politics he'd gotten from Sairaorg and Lord Bael, not messing up the date and his own nerves.

But overall…

"I had fun today." Pyrrha honestly quips from where she's leaning against his shoulder as they amble away from the cab and towards the nearest bullhead loading students for the trip back to Beacon.

"Me too." He honestly answers. "Maybe we could see if Ren and Nora wanna make a double-date of it for the season closer once the Festival's over?"

"That sounds wonderful." Pyrrha answers, before a wry, mischievous grin crosses her face. "Though I am worried people will start calling us predictable at this rate. A picnic every week, now two dates to the same place?"

Jaune chuckles awkwardly. Yeah, he's gotta up his game a bit. He glances around, the crowd looks pretty normal, and nothing is setting off her senses in a magical sense. That said, he knows the Underworld's press, not Remnant's. "So, any of your paparazzi buddies around?" he asks as nonchalantly as he can manage. Pyrrha's smile disappears in a heartbeat at that, and she nods awkwardly. "Any of the assholes that try for creep-shots?" A shake this time. Good.

He hopes.

Either this will shatter all her worries about how the press will ruin their budding relationship, or end it in one catastrophic go.

"Well, then let's give 'em something to talk about."

He steps around to face her, before leaning down to press his lips to hers.

Pyrrha goes rigid for a heartbeat before leaning in to him and wrapping her arms around his neck as she returns the kiss.

If there are any cameras flashing or people talking, neither of them notice.

_-*R-DxD*-_

Oz's elevator door glides open, and Qrow takes in the scene laid out before him. Business as usual, it seems–mostly, anyhow.

Office looks the same. The damn windows are shut–which is why he took the slow, boring way up–and the gears above are grinding and clattering away.

Ozpin is, as usual, sitting behind his desk looking mysterious. Not so usual is the smile the old Wizard favors him with; there's something, extra to it that Qrow doesn't think he's ever seen on Oz's face. He offers Qrow a playful toast with his mug of cocoa. "Welcome back, Qrow."

Huh. "Oz." He greets back plainly, taking in everyone else gathered in the Headmaster's office this time without breaking stride.

"Yes…Good of you to join us." Glynda glaring at him for being 'late'? Check.

And the stick up her pretty butt is present as usual too. "Had some news to pass to Tai, Glynda. Family business."

"Nothing that requires your immediate attention, I hope?" Jimmy somehow looming authoritatively and looking stern and serious, check. How he manages that when he's almost openly expressing actual concern about something that has absolutely nothing to do with The Mission is utterly beyond Qrow. But it's him more-or-less to a T, so whatever.

"It's self-contained and has been in the making for years now, Jim. All of my focus is on this." He quips back, waving his arm expressively around at the office, and the Academy beyond.

"General." The Ice Queen corrects him, hiding her nerves with over-the-top propriety as usual, from her typical spot just to Jim's left and behind him. Same way Glynda stands behind Oz, but Schnee actually being at one of these meetings? Way out of the ordinary, which can only mean that…

He shrugs off her mild rebuke with practiced ease. "Whatever." Swell, as if the good General didn't already have a big enough head before. Ehh, he'd figured this day was gonna come eventually. Not that that's a good thing; The de-facto ruler of Atlas–and that's exactly what he is, Ironwood's protests and counter-arguments be damned–has always been too big for his britches. Adding a second Atlesio-centric seat to Oz's crowd is only gonna make things worse, Qrow just knows it. Maybe if the Ice Queen had pulled a proper runner like her kid sister things would be different, but, well, that's not the world they're living in.

Moving on, wait…"Ho ho! As free-spirited as ever I see, Mister Branwen! It heartens me to see the graying hair hasn't dampened that!"

"Port?" Well now. Maybe this meeting is just some mundane Grimmshit, and has nothing to do with Salem, after all. Doubtful, but it's on the table with the old blowhard in the office. That said, if Oz is planning on swearing Port in, he's surprised it hadn't happened sooner. If Qrow can age half as well as the old walrus has, and still have moves as good as his, he'll count himself a lucky man. Wait a second… "Have you lost weight?"

"Ho ho!" He bellows back, waggling his mustache and patting his–slightly–less expansive stomach. "I was hoping someone would notice!"

An unfamiliar snort draws Qrow's attention. "If things are always this lively, Oz, I think I'm gonna really like it here." The grinning bastard with bleached and frosted tips interrupting their banter while leaning against Oz's desk is new. Qrow can't help the mild narrowing of his red eyes and twitch of his fingers for Harbringer's hilt. Something about Frosty has the instincts he's honed over his lifetime as a bandit brat, then professional Huntsman screaming.

Dressed like a rich playboy and sipping from a glass that looks like it's from Oz's good stash, Qrow's knee-jerk impression is that he's not only dangerous but trouble too. "So, you're the infamous Qrow Branwen, hm? You're certainly skinny enough to pass as a scarecrow."

Oh, he's definitely one of those guys. Nice. There's only room for one snide, snarking-to-hell-with-the-rules operator in Oz's circle though, and that's him, dammit.

Qrow walks past all the others, right up to the new guy. Well nuts, he's tall as Qrow is, so he can't loom over the smug-faced bastard. He angles away from the open space off to the side of the group towards Oz's desk where the bottle that Frosty-Tips had filled up is still sitting open, and as an open invitation. Sure, he's gotta get nearly shoulder to shoulder with the widely grinning Blondie-Bangs to help himself, but Oz almost never breaks out his good stuff. Qrow is careful to not take his eyes off the other guy's purple ones as he pours himself a drink with deliberate nonchalance. "So, who the hell are you, Frost?"

"Heh, Frost? That's a new one, but y'know what, I'll take it!" Frost quips back with casual ease before he tosses back the last of his drink, slides the glass across Oz's desk and without breaking eye contact or letting his smirk falter, replies. "We're still waiting on one last party to show up, but the short of it? I'm Backup." The grinning bastard clearly doesn't view Qrow as a threat, or even an equal going by his body language and movements. And the hell is Qrow supposed to do with that answer? Just take it at face value and shut up?

Seriously, who the hell does this guy think he is?

Qrow pauses, glass nearly to his lips before sharply glancing over to Oz who gives a nod of confirmation. "Whatever you say, I guess…" He drawls lazily, not that he lets his gaze falter or focus shift. Okay then, new recruits. Could turn out good, might wind up a disaster. "Just be careful who you go letting know you got an invite to this party, yeah?" Qrow casually quips, swiftly looking over to Pete who brushes at his mustache in the most blatantly forced gesture of 'innocence' Qrows seen from the portly professor since he was a Beacon student before finally sweeping his back to Frost, then onto Ironwood before stopping on Winter who subtly puffs up in mild indignation as he continues, "Never really know who's trustworthy and who's a plant."

Frosty just rolls his eyes at that. "If we're gonna talk about trustworthiness, how's your big sister doing these days?"

"Midwife said I came out first." He reflexively retorts, before remembering that the guy in front of him isn't Tai or Sum, and shoots him a dirty look. "Not that it's any of your business, pal." He turns his scowl to Oz. Old bastard must have been running his mouth. Who is this guy supposed to be that Oz would share so much with him out of freaking nowhere?

Frosty doesn't take the hint. "Kinda is. See, I'm pretty sure I saw her on campus the other day. Kept giving me the brush off, and I just can't figure out why that is. Does she always get so inarticulate when someone gets her feathers ruffled?"

Clever pun there–Wait. Qrow shoots another glare at Oz who just takes another sip from his mug of cocoa while watching the elevator door. Did he spill about the bird transformations too, or was that just a lucky guess? "Ruffled feathers is actually a good mood for her. So, unless you're some sorta masochist, you're better off steering clear of her, Frosty." He's officially done with this game. Qrow turns to Ozpin jerking his thumb at the man next to him. "Oz, who is this guy?"

Oz either hadn't planned on, or didn't get the chance to answer, as Blond-Bangs lets out a melodramatic sigh and presses his hand to his chest over his heart. "And here I thought it was fate that we met. The first maiden I laid eyes on when I came to Vale. I'm sure you know how rare it is for a woman with that sort of plumage to wander across a guy's path. And I'm a real sucker for long hair." Qrow turns an incredulous, almost disturbed gaze onto the maniac next to him when he notices the odd glint in those purple eyes. "It was like the embodiment of a beauty in the spring of her life had just flit across my path." Frost stares pointedly at him, waiting.

Qrow just looks at him blankly before he pales. Spring… As in the Maiden… Who traditionally operates on the continent of Anima. Who ran off a few years after Raven had and no one's heard from since. Add to that Raven asking Qrow if Oz was coming after her damn near every time they met up after she scampered back to the continent of their birth to play briggand…

Frost chuckles, "They said you were clever when you want to be. Glad to see it wasn't all hype!"

Qrow haltingly jerks his head to look around, a solemn Oz and Glynda stare back. Jim, stern as ever, does the same, though with an uncharacteristically sympathetic undertone to the expression. Judging from Port and Schnee's lack of interest at least seem to have the detached disinterest of someone who is hearing about someone else's family drama and can't really be bothered to act invested. Thank the Brothers for small mercies.

If that's really true… Why? How could she have fallen so far so fast?

"My sister is a–Wait, how the hell do you–why would–who the hell–Oz, who is this guy!?"

"Patience." The Blond-Banged bastard 'sagely' advises. Okay, Qrow's starting to see how Frosty and Oz would get along, cryptic jackasses that they are. That said, considering that the interloper isn't Oz, Qrow is seriously contemplating just punching him till he sings like a canary. He doesn't look that tough. "Ease up there, killer, our final guests should be arriving…" he trails off, holding a finger out in a 'wait' signal before continuing, "Now." He gestures with that same finger to the elevator and–

The sound of the elevator door opening a second time echoes across the spacious office.

Qrow blinks in mild surprise before he gives Frosty a deadpan side-glance. So on top of everything else, he's a show off. Well, shit, he's starting to actually like the bastard. He returns his gaze to the elevator to see–

Qrow does a small double take and furrows his brows.

Girls, well, young women at least. Crap, on top of Raven potentially being Spring, and Amber being comatose in a pod; another Maiden must have bought the farm.

If he was less observant, he'd assume that the taller of the two was older. That said, it looks like she's almost the same age as a Beacon freshman. Dressed in a conservative orange dress and black blazer that, while not improper in the least, the getup does very little to hide an extremely curvy figure that probably has most other girls her age jealous as hell and the guys unable to keep their eyes off her. Girl's also tall, so that might help even out the… weight distribution issues she's gonna have a few years down the line. She's at least as tall as Jim, and a quick glance downward shows that nope, she isn't wearing heels.

She's got one of those over-sized Scrolls that personal assistants and secretaries prefer clutched in one hand before shrinking it down so she can slide it back into her tightly-fitting blazer pocket. Her other hand is occupied by a plain brown leather briefcase with gold clasps, and a clipboard lodged underneath the same arm. Kid's a shade or two lighter of a blonde than his eldest niece, and has her four shoulder-length tresses coiled into loose, purposefully placed corkscrews and combed out to frame a polite smile, with dark blue eyes shifting around to take in the office.

The one in front of her is almost comically short by comparison. She reaches just below Blondie's prodigious bust with the top of her head. Between a bubbly open expression and wide-eyed exuberance, she definitely looks to be Ruby's age, at most. Probably has the sort of natural babyface most over-the-hill ladies would kill for. The reason Qrow suspects she's probably older? Those eyes of hers, wide open or not, had given her act away. Or at least the fact that there is an act. There's a weight behind them, and she'd taken in the entire room at a glance after the elevator had opened–all its occupants, every possible escape and threat.

"Greetings~! So sorry to keep you waiting!" She chimes in a voice that, once again, brings to mind his youngest niece, sunny smile still plastered on her faux-pipsqueak face.

"On the contrary, Serafall, you're just in time. Please, come in." Oz replies in a blandly pleasant tone. Serafall? Not a name he's ever heard of before and it doesn't fall–hah–-into modern color customs. Then again, some families have a last name that works for that.

"Thank you for having us." Babyface–Serafall–gives a polite bow in response before stepping forward. "You have a lovely establishment here, if I may so." she adds.

Qrow's face is blank as the pair of young women emerge from the elevator, moving at a crisp but calm pace, with the shorter of the duo leading them. Pete, Schnee and even the Pimp-wannabe he gets, but Oz didn't bring in especially young blood without a damn good reason.

He takes the rest of Serafall's features in. Clad in a dark teal suit-jacket that hugged her figure as much as Blondie's does–Though hers isn't quite as impressive–with a knee-length black skirt, and long black twintails falling down to just past her hips. Her smile is carefree but her light blue eyes are all business, taking a second, less guarded pass of the room, pausing for just a moment on Frosty to give him an amiable–albeit cautious–nod. And much like Frosty, when her eyes actually fell on him, something about her gaze sets his teeth on edge which is weird as all get out since even the worst Grimm and scummy low-lives have never given him vibes like this.

Babyface or not, she isn't to be crossed.

"I appreciate that. Glynda, Peter and I, as well as the rest of Beacon's staff, do pride ourselves on running and maintaining the Academy's grounds and facilities as efficiently as possible." Oz replies airily.

"Like clockwork, Headmaster?" Blondie asks mildly with a tiny smirk after a small glance to the giant ticking cogs. Twintails snickers at that.

Qrow gives a small snort. Hah. Another blonde punster.

Ozpin chuckles alongside Peter and Frosty. "Just so, Ms. Phenex."

Unfortunately, Schnee, Jim and Glynda decide to remain sticks in the mud, but Blondie–Phenex, another weird name that he can't, for the life of him, place–pays it no mind.

The pair amble to a halt, completing the impromptu circle of people, Phenex staying just behind and to the right of her almost-junior-looking senior, the both of them directly across from Frosty. Serafall is relaxed and cordial. Phenex at first glance appears to be flighty but the glint in her eyes belies a calculating curiosity. Frosty is content to stare right back at them with the same lackadaisical smirk he's had plastered on his face since Qrow got here, but with Serafall, there's a certain alertness to his eyes that he hadn't spared for Qrow.

The three don't just seem to know each other, but there's an undercurrent of–Maybe not tension–between the three of them but of history, and not all good or bad. Who ARE these people?

The ex-bandit used the girls' approach to move off to Ozpin's left near Port. The sooner he gets answers the better.

He notices Schnee doing her best to surreptitiously take in the office's occupants. She's doing a decent job of hiding it, but not quite good enough for him to miss it. Not that he blames her, Headmasters and their seconds or confidants meeting up isn't that uncommon of an occurrence, but Frost, Serafall and Phenex–even his and Port's presence–would all seem strange without the context she's probably about to be blindsided with.

The easy grin is gone from Ozpin's face, now looking more like it had been carved from stone. "First and foremost…We need to ensure that all of us have the same basic understanding of the situation at hand, before moving on to deeper and more esoteric topics." After a pause to allow for everyone to nod, mutter some agreement or motion for him to continue. Oz does just that, redirecting his gaze to the only neophyte Qrow is certain of in the room.

"Ms. Schnee." The aforementioned Atlesian straightens. Here we go…"What is your favorite fairy tale?" Oz smiles 'mysteriously' as Frost snorts, and the other two girls share a meaningful–if subtly amused–glance.

From there, Oz weaves out a far more complete weaving of Remnant's true history than most fresh additions receive. From the sad story of an adventuring wizard and the damsel in the tower, to the petty squabbling of two clumsy, narcissistic and childish Brother Gods. Their violent abandonment of their creation after destroying and tormenting its people. A tortured soul in an impossible situation, slowly spiraling into apathy and isolationism. The brief glimmer of hope at seeing her lover returned to her, a kingdom of humanity in resurgence until the black-hearted Grimm Queen's true nature had revealed itself. And finally the almost pastoral tale of a broken old man on his farm, and four young women. Winter stands ram-rod straight throughout the whole thing, hands behind her back at perfect attention for nearly the entire telling, and that was probably the only thing keeping her from having a breakdown like most people do when confronted with the truth.

From there, it's more of an aside to recorded history than a collection of Fairy Tales being revealed as true. The Academies' true roles as defenses for the Vaults, and Relics as well as bases of operations for the Maidens, the secret society, how so many of the different tragedies, conflicts and disasters had actually been a cover for, or result of the centuries-old secret war. Glynda and Ironwood pitch in every so often to help answer questions for the young Huntress.

Qrow takes the opportunity to gauge the reactions of the newcomers. Serafall appears genuinely interested, but more in a 'hearing the story from someone who was there' sense than any form of taking in new information. Phenex is engrossed as well, slowly running a hand through one of her coiled gold tresses thoughtfully as she absorbs the tale. More reactive than her boss or senior, but clearly not having her world shattered or seeming particularly surprised by the feats described either. Frosted-Tips and Pete both have uncharacteristically solemn faces for the entire telling, and together with the ladies, show varying but genuine levels of disdain and disgust for the Brothers and their actions the few times they feature.

Yeah, Qrow can't say he likes the Brothers much himself. He'll curse by'em as freely as the next guy, but that's about all the thought he has to spare them.

At some point between Oz finishing up with Ancient history and the current state of affairs, Winter's controlled, professional military demeanor had deteriorated to something closer to insulted than worried. Jim had probably been the same way, guess he'll be up soon.

"You are still skeptical, Ms. Schnee." Oz casually notes. The thinning of her mouth is answer enough.

Right, that's his cue. Rolling his eyes, Qrow moves behind Ozs' chair and shifts into his crow form. He does a quick lap around the room before landing on Schnee's shoulder. She turns her head to look cross-eyed at him–getting close enough that people can't look at him properly has always been one of his favorite things to do in this form–frozen, so he pokes her nose with his beak, and tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. When she goes to shoo him off her shoulder, he hops clear of her hand and reverts back into a human, bowing sarcastically in the center of the room.

"No, it isn't my Semblance. No, I'm not gonna tell you what my Semblance is, cuz it's impossible to prove whenever it rears its ugly head." He pauses as he stands back up, and trots back over to the spot by Oz's desk he'd claimed for himself. "My twin sister, Raven, can do the same thing though, but her actual Semblance is portals. The restrictions on that require her to actually care about others though, so it's pretty much a non-issue." Yeah, it's harsh, and he's probably still bitter, but he figures he's allowed after the shit she put the rest of the Team through. "You get three guesses at what kind of bird she does, and if you caught the theme, Oz had in mind for me, your first two don't count."

When Serafall shoots an incredulous look at Oz, he makes a placatory gesture back. "Raven is no longer affiliated with, or allied to my circle. After the more pressing immediate matters have been seen to, she will receive a final ultimatum to return to the fold with a proper explanation, or face our full might." Oz explains to the shorter woman.

Serafall waves his explanation away, expression still severe. "It's not that. Raven? Qrow? You really just couldn't resist, could you?" She crosses her arms under her chest, shaking her head with a severe look, as if Oz had disappointed her. Phenex's smile shifts to a wry smirk after her boss's quip.

"Right~? It's like their parents were asking for it!" Frosty wheedles in agreement. Rolling his eyes, Qrow takes the distraction to, once again, gauge the supposed newcomers' reactions and they aren't what he'd expected. Sure, Schnee looks sufficiently impressed–stunned even–but, seriously, how and when had Pete found out about the bird trick? Why aren't any of the other new faces reacting beyond casual interest?

Ironwood rests his flesh-and-blood hand on Schnee's shoulder. "I assure you, Winter, this is neither a prank, joke or farce. Every word the Headmaster has spoken has been the truth." She shifts to look to her superior officer and mentor, her eyes going a bit wide when she sees just how serious his face is. "Did you have any questions?"

When Winter uneasily shakes her head, Oz grabs a sip from his mug and gestures to, well, the whole room. "Now that that has been seen to, it is time to move on to the meat of this gathering. Everyone in this room has come together to cement an alliance–or at least a mutual treaty of nonaggression–on neutral ground in our unique struggles for survival." He specifically glances at Blond-Bangs, Serafall and Phenex at that last one. They all nod in response.

Wait, what the hell? Oz's phrasing definitely lends more credence to Frosty's earlier assertion of being backup, but what was that about neutral ground and an alliance? Are there other hidden factions out there? And… Apparently they're morons who are fighting each other? What kinda stupid bullshit–?

Oz takes a long, slow swig from his mugs before taking a careful glance at him. Huh? "To that end, there is one more detail surrounding Salem, that I will confess to having kept secret." What? "For several generations now, I have been operating under the assumption that the Queen of Grimm is not simply immortal but wholly indestructible." Wait, what? "Her body can be destroyed, right down to its last limb and yet still she returns, unmarred and unblemished. I have personally gone so far as to vaporize her down to her constituent atoms, only for Salem to reform, pristine as ever, before ending that incarnation's life."

What!?

Qrow can feel his eyes shooting wide open as he takes a few halting steps away from Oz, who looks back at him guiltilty but resolutely as he continues, "A truth that I have shared with a vanishingly rare few. Most recently, with one of my best and, now late… operatives, Summer Rose."

Summer… Knew?

That… that explains the time he and Tai found her damn near black-out at a dive bar down in Vale's shady side. Even more, how she'd refused to say why she'd gone off on a bender.

Factoring in all the extra missions she started going on a few days after that…

Oh, hell.

She really had been the best of them. Still trying to forge on ahead and carrying something like that alone.

Oz keeps on talking, nearly every other sentence slamming into him like a rampaging Ursa Major. "I will confess, the habit of keeping this knowledge close to the vest began as a means to prevent further betrayals after suffering a bitter string of them in previous iterations of this circle, as well as to spare myself further betrayals. It was, to my shame, base paranoia that had me clinging to that habit in more recent decades. Less to prevent betrayal to myself personally, but Remnant as a whole." Qrow dazedly turns back to Oz. "I am not a perfect man. I am not even certain I am a good one after all these years. I can only apologize, Qrow." Oz squeezes his eyes shut with an apologetic bow of his head.

Well, shit.

Qrow numbly glances at Glynda who had rested a hand on his shoulder a moment prior, eying him with uncharacteristic empathy. Ironwood appears to already have known too as he remains collected. That said, there is, something Qrow can't quite place on the General's face. After the silence stretches for nearly a minute, James adds, "For what it's worth, Qrow, I'm sorry for having doubted you for so long. It seems that the blood of the covenant really is thicker than the water of the womb."

The hell is that supposed to–Oh. He doesn't know when the window had been opened. But all things considered, he can't really blame them for the silent check.

Ironwood looks to Oz and Blond-Bangs before looking back at Qrow. "We don't have confirmation, but Raven's… departure and her suspected ascendance–" He bites off with disdain. Right, probable Spring Maiden. Crap."–paints a fairly damning picture when combined with a few other events that we'll elaborate on in time."

Qrow feels almost dizzy from all that's been happened so far. And the sensation that the other boot hasn't even dropped yet is only getting stronger.

He only nods at the General as he continues to process, before offering him one of those old-timey 'respect from one warrior to another' salutes he remembers from way the hell back when he was still studying at Beacon. Just a fist thumped over his heart, but the General returns it. He'll never treat the General like his toy soldiers do, but that one gesture earned him a lot of points as far as Qrow is concerned.

The former bandit notices, with some relief, Schnee trying and failing to hide her own internal crisis behind professional stoicism. Learning about Salem is bad enough. Piling the fact that she can't be killed on top of that? That's more than enough to make a person have second, third and maybe even fourth or fifth thoughts about the life choices that led them to that point. The second half alone nearly has Qrow back at that point himself.

He redirects his attention to the three new faces who seem as wholly unconcerned by both the bit of family drama that had just run its course, as they'd been after the Reveal about Salem. Serafall only seems interested in Ozpin, her somber expression clearly marking a decent amount of empathy–the sort that can't be faked–as something the half-pint has a decent reserve of at least.. Phenex just has her brow furrowed in thought, and is gazing out the window past Oz with a look of almost intense contemplation. Frosty though is still just offering up that damnable smile. The hell does it take to faze the guy?

He isn't the only one, though. Pete seems just as unsurprised and undaunted. What the actual fuck?

"What'd I tell you about the pity-parties, Oz?" Frosty playfully chides Oz, voice still entirely at ease. "Besides, you're leavin'em in suspense. There's still good news."

A half-chuckle sneaks out of the Wizard's mouth, and it curls back into a light smile. The same lightness from before this whole depressing, terrifying mess had started, confusingly enough. "Yes, of course." He shifts about to address the entire group again, "While it may seem that Salem's position is unassailable, we have found aid that will allow us equal footing against her. Furthermore, our own unique talents make mutual cooperation not only likely, but most likely vital to all interested parties. Only together, can our respective peoples prosper against Salem and her ilk."

Qrow turns to more carefully look over Frosty, Serafall and Phenex through the numbness. Yeah… Yeah… Frosty'd been hinting at something like that this whole time. They're 'backup,' but how exactly? What've they got that Oz doesn't? That Summer apparently didn't?

Frosty decides to take over. "If ya haven't guessed it yet, we aren't exactly from around your neck of the woods."

Qrow rolls his eyes, clinging to the facade he normally puts forward with every last shred of sanity he's got. "Yeah, we guessed. Mind sharing with the class?"

"Believe it or not…" Babyface jumps in to take over the explanation, apparently not wanting to be outdone by a rival or whatever, "We are from an entirely separate set of worlds than Remnant!"

…The fuck?

Serafall continues, heedless of how casually she's destroying Qrow's worldview. "Most of our humans come from a planet called Earth but, well, none of us in this room are specifically from there." Not one specific world but several? And not all of them have humans?

"Now, I can't speak for him–" Serafall jerks her head at Frosty-Tips, a too-polite expression on her face, but it is polite. "–or his people, but we come in peace." Serafall finishes chipperly, gesturing at herself and her aide as if she hasn't just declared to all and sundry that she was apparently a freaking alien. The pint-sized womanchild flashes a pair of peace signs with a cheery giggle while Phenex follows up by giving a polite bow with a sunny smile of her own.

"Aw~, that was gonna be my next line!" Blondie-Bangs whines, but his smile is quick to return.

Seriously, what the fuck!?

Qrow glances over to see Winter Schnee of all people shooting him a half-panicked deer-in-the-headlights look. Qrow's pretty sure the expression he's returning is just as bad. Maybe a bit more subdued or cooler at least he hopes? He woodenly looks back to his boss, "Hey, umm, Oz… how drunk am I right now? Did ya spike my drink or something?"

"I understand that it's quite a lot to take in, Qrow. Believe me, I do. But I ask you to bear with, and believe us. Once we have finished explaining, whatever you decide, I will understand and accept that choice." Oz urges him before suggesting, "I believe that it's well past time that we properly introduce ourselves. This is the first time several of us are meeting after all."

Okay, so. Meeting humanoid aliens. Gotta show good manners or whatever…

Oz once again gets the ball rolling, "All of you know me as Professor Ozpin, formerly the Infinite Man known as Ozma, now currently acting headmaster of Beacon Academy and member of the Vale Council. To my right is Glynda Goodwitch, Deputy Headmistress of Beacon and my right hand. To my left is Qrow Branwen, my foremost scout, field agent and left hand." Both of them offer their own nods. Qrow is still processing the shoes having been dropped, right onto his face.

"General James Ironwood, commander in chief of Atlas' Armed Forces, member of the Atlas Council and Headmaster of Atlas Academy. And this is my right hand, Colonel Winter Schnee, commander of the Atlesian Specialist Corps." Wait wait wait, isn't it an act of treason to reveal a Specialist's rank to anyone outside the Corps? Huh, nice to see Jim's still got his priorities straight. National security won't mean much if The Circle fails to keep Salem at bay. Not that that's the most world-shattering secret revealed to him today, but still.

Qrow glances with tired impatience back between the three newcomers, wondering just who the hell–Wait, why didn't Oz introduce Port? He glances back at one of his old friends only to get winked at.

Frosty lets out a low chuckle, "My turn, eh? Don't blink."

Aw, hell, now wha–

Frosty-Tips sprouts at least twelve large, crow-like, black-feathered wings. The action startling the hell out of both Qrow and Schnee. The rest of the room is utterly unphased by the sight, because of-fucking-course. "Governor General Azazel, Leader of the Grigori; the largest cohesive, living faction of Fallen Angels Earth–or any other world barring recent discoveries–and currently stationed in the Underworld." He offers with a polite bow.

What.

Frosted Tips–Azazel–eyes Qrow's stunned face with an absolutely shit-eating grin, then makes a grand gesture to Pete.

Again. What?

Peter steps forward and flourishes Blowhard–when the hell had he got that?!–before continuing in his usual grandiose turn of phrase. "Gentlemen." A nod for Jim and Oz. Hey! "Ladies." A leer at Glynda, Winter, Serafall and–C'mon, seriously, Pete!?–Phenex. Though the latter two seem used to that kind of attention. What the fu–"Brooding, edgy anti-heroes." He glances at Azazel and then him. Azazel just bows again. Qrow glares grumpily, ignoring the 'brooding' comment–which he vows to get the walrus back for later. "By day, I am known as Peter Port, Huntsman extraordinaire and teacher of Grimm Studies at Remnant's most prestigious Huntsman Academy: Beacon. But by night..." The old Huntsman dissolves in a freaking heat-haze into a fit guy with a full head of wavy black hair that falls to his shoulders and a drooping fu-man-chu that ends at his chin. Oh, and he's taller by a head and also sprouts four–no–five pairs of his own giant, black, feathered wings. At least he isn't shuffling them around and making it a bitch to count accurately like Azazel is.

"I am Phanuel, acting leader of the splinter group of Fallen Angels that sought refuge on this world several millennia ago. At the time we, understandably, referred to ourselves as the Weary. I will confess, the name has stuck. As well as Ozma's sworn ally for centuries." He offers Qrow a friendly smile. Qrow can only manage to stare back at him dumbly.

What is happening...?

A small voice in the back of his head reminds him they aren't even all introduced yet.

Qrow gazes slowly, cautiously over to Serafall whose expression looks downright intrigued at Phanuel's revelation. A moment later, she clears her throat before an odd gleam lights up in her eyes and a devious smirk crosses her face.

"Oh~? So that's how we're gonna play it?" She barks out authoritatively. "Rune!" Phenex–Rune snaps to attention, the motion causes more than–ahem–just her ringlets to bounce. "We can't have any stinking Fallen Angels outdoing us, can we!?" The twin-tailed young woman addresses her subordinate like some sports coach. It doesn't help that Rune's expression is so serious, you can just tell it loops right back around to fake.

"Perish the thought, Lady Sera. We Devils do have our reputations for bedazzling mortals to maintain." She pronounces as she bends down to set the briefcase down, and stack the clipboard on top of it neatly, before sliding it away with her foot.

Wait, what did she–? No no no…Seriously? Devils? What the hell is happening!?

"Do the thing!" Serafall orders, pointing her finger at the ceiling. Rune's expression shifts to something, well, Qrow isn't gonna even try to place it right now, but it's devious at the very least.

Rune holds out her arms pretty clearly presenting, well, herself. "Standing before you is a true scion of the Devil House of Phenex…" A veritable cocoon of flame envelops her form for a flash before almost blindingly bright orange-to yellow-to white flames wash harmlessly over the office. With perfect precision and balance, she rotates as she grows up… and up… and up until her head is closer to Oz's office's vaulted ceiling than its floor.

She is now taller than any adult Qrow has ever met. By a lot.

Her impressive form is now clad in a shin-length, dagger-hemmed dress that is flickering and flaring like an actual fire, and a cool coal-embers dark cardigan, its stitching the same shade as embers a few good gusts of wind shy of a raging inferno. The dress is the sort of thing Tai would flay Yang alive for trying to wear out, and she's probably filling it out way better than his niece would too. Sorry, Yang. "And the proud aide and apprentice to the Lady Leviathan. Raenella Phenex, at your service." A pair of burning wings perfectly proportionate to her massive form burst from her back, nearly grazing the ceiling and–once again–startling the shit outta him. She offers a proper curtsy, before adding, "Please, call me Rune."

Qrow once again can't do anything more than blink dumbly. Right. Giant, flaming hellspawn kids. Sure. Why not.

Phanuel and Azazel are shamelessly enjoying the view. Damn perverts, giving guys a bad name. Of course, Qrow has to drag his eyes away himself...Winter visibly grinds her jaw, Glynda's hand tightens on her crop while Jim clears his throat, showing signs of Mettle, the cheater. And Oz is, as usual, expressive as a statue. Though the small smirk he's sporting gives his amusement away.

The two Fallen Angels snap out of their ogling spree when Rune flashes a sly, triumphant look in their general direction. Phanuel starts studiously inspecting his nails in a failed attempt to look casual. Azazel, meanwhile, at least looks somewhat more interested in Rune herself than just her, well… "One of Adelaide and Ruval's twins, right?" The giant nods, the smug look on her face holding steady. "Glad to see the good bit of the Focalor bloodline is still kicking, I suppose."

Rune huffs knowingly to herself before she turns to her boss and crouches down–still notably towering over Serafall. Holding the back of her hand up to the side of her mouth, she stage-whispers. "Lady Sera, I seem to have impressed the mortals, but, umm, I'm a bit young to get any sort of reaction out of that many feathers. Aside, from, well, the men's sympathy for my burden, that is. Passed down from my dear mother…" She trails off dramatically, placing her hand over her 'heart'.

Burden, right… Kid's a damned menace, and he shudders to think of what sort of Grimmshit he'll have to deal with if she ever meets Yang. He notices Glynda and Winter sharing a disapproving eyeroll in his peripheral. Hopefully one of them will corner the brat for a talk about time and place at some point. Because her boss clearly hasn't.

Probably a regular Devil–Or worse, a paranormal–thing, going off their behavior.

Serafall pouts, before girding herself and stepping forward. "I suppose that makes me the final and foremost participant in these negotiations to introduce herself." She holds up her right hand and in a blue flash, she's enshrouded in a torrent of light blue light. It fills the room entirely. The light washes over Qrow–from the moment it touches him, he feels like he's drowning at the bottom of the ocean with no hope of escape or sign of sunlight–until it recedes to reveal…

Well, Serafall's… outfit, is certainly, exotic.

A touch of 'evil overlord', a dash of harem girl and a splash of video game armor. Okay, the hearts kind of ruin that same 'evil overlord' theme, despite it being all gold-trimmed black. The knee-length loincloth-held together by strings across her hips-flows up into an azure diamond holding a set of, well, tit-bracers he'd have to call them, in place. He left shoulder sports an oversized pauldron that's linked into a gorget that almost covers her mouth. Her left fist is similarly armored, as are her feet. It's suggestive as all hell, to put it lightly, showing a hell of a lot of skin than even the most daring of Huntresses would be comfortable with. Provided the heavy looking bat-like cloak hanging from her shoulders is open at least. An elaborate silver flower pin set with what looks like five perfectly round sapphires holds her left twintail in place and polishes off the getup.

When he makes eye contact with her again, the drowning sensation abates to a mostly tolerable level, and Qrow decides that is where his peepers are staying, view be damned. "I am Serafall Leviathan, the Devil King in charge of Foreign Affairs, and Chief Ambassador for the Underworld." She announces with pride, a wide grin splitting her face as a pair of wide, leathery bat-wings sprout from her back.

So not just Devils but an actual Devil King… Leviathan… Qrow's shock-addled brain briefly flickers to one of the largest Grimm known to Remnant, then reassigns the term to the pint-sized woman before him. The damn monsters can wait in line, she takes precedent now. "Erm, killer outfit." Qrow's mouth offers without consulting his brain before acting.

"Glad you think so~! I haven't worn this old thing in ages!" Serafall quips as she looks down at herself while shuffling through a half dozen different poses ranging from dominatrix to conquering warlord to evil sorceress.

"You should see her favorite outfit." Rune quips wryly, having returned to standing behind her boss, now at her towering height.

The pint-sized Devil King gives a dramatic gasp and leans forward, her eyes going starry and all of the sense of danger leaving them, and her form in general. "Do you want to!?" Serafall squeals excitedly. It was disturbing, partly because of how much it brought to mind Ruby. Who he really does not want to associate with a getup like the one Leviathan is wearing, Ever.

"Um..." Qrow's instincts get themselves sorted out and start screaming DANGER at him at the sudden shift in demeanor. Rune is just standing there, her shoulders shaking as she snickers silently to herself.

Ozpin inserts himself smoothly, "I am certain there will be time enough for you to show us later, Serafall, but for now, we have gathered here for a reason." He cuts a look at Serafall specifically. The Devil King gives a melodramatic sigh before straightening back up, all business again. She might look like a child playing dress up next to Rune, barely reaching just below the younger Devil's hips, but that isn't a mistake he'll make again after having been exposed to their true presence.

After a brief pause, Azazel adds, "Say, isn't your older sister part of our expanded security staff for the Tournament, Phenex?" His gaze having returned to Rune. "General Regina Phenex, right? The Sun Phoenix General of the Rising Rainbow Flame? Or something like that?"

The who of the what now?

Rune smile back at the Fallen Angel, hints of pride and amusement showing on her otherwise demure features. "Or something like that. She's escorting my twin sister and our aunt over as we speak, Governor General." The giant informs the Fallen.

Azazel grins intently, "A Satan-Class Devil, even one that's got some work to do to catch up with the Devil Kings, is always welcome. Would have been a shame if she'd actually retired to take care of her little Recluse Twin sisters. I suppose we have the timely discovery of this world to thank for drawing the Reserve Phenexes out to grace us with your presence?" Rune's only reply is a weighted–almost sad–smile. Serafall frowns warningly at the Fallen, but doesn't say anything. Touched some sorta nerve there? Azazel shrugs back, his expression now placatory, "Well, the more the merrier, if you ask me. Between enemy agents skulking in the dark, from Remnant and from our end…" He trails off and runs his free hand back through his hair. "To paraphrase a movie I watched not too long ago, it's not less for the Fallen, it's more for Vale."

"Agreed." Phanuel concurs.

Serafall shifts back to her skirt-and-blouse combo with a nod, upbeat once again. "Great to hear it!" Rune takes the cue and goes back to normalish-size, expression more reserved.

He didn't know who they were talking about–He almost didn't want to know, given that nickname and taking into account what a powerful Devil like Serafall was like–Moreover, he saw no signs of any 'expanded security,' with Jim's little armada–reduced from its original bloated size or not–is about non-discrete as things can get. But at least they seem to have Vale and–as an extension–Remnant's best interests at heart?

This all happened within the span of–what–five, ten minutes tops? And it all comes crashing down on him. Hard.

Shaken, Qrow pulls out his flask and takes a long, long draw. Wiping off his mouth, then his brow, he turns to face Ozpin who looks back at him expectantly with an understanding look in his eye.

"Oz, the hell's going on." It isn't a question.

"Nothing that your very own eyes and ears have not already told you, Qrow. The supernatural world is larger than even I dared to dream it was, and fate has brought potential allies to our home from further afield than I had ever imagined the denizens of Remnant would venture. Allies who possess a unique set of powers and artifacts that make them superbly qualified to contribute–and quite likely end–our war with Salem." Oz turns back to the assemblage of the supernatural.

With a self-indulgent smirk splitting his face, Azazel holds out his hand and in a flash a spear made of light appears in his grip. "Recognize this?"

Qrow stares dumbly at it, blinking once before his eyes shoot wide open. He'd seen a few blurry stills grabbed from raw footage of course. But one up close and immobile? "One of you two–" he points at Azazel, then Pete–err, Phanuel, "was responsible for…" Shit, the hell was the media calling it again? "The Barrage." Winter stares at Azazel in poorly suppressed awe and a small bit of terror.

Phanuel gives his fellow Fallen an unamused look while grumbling something about showing off, though Azazel ignores it as he taps his nose. "Guilty as charged. Figured I'd give Salem, Dummah and their cronies something to think about before try sending an army of Grimm and terrorists at a bunch of helpless civilians next time. War's one thing," and the way he says war feels a lot dirtier than most of the slurs he hears from human supremacists or White Fang fanatics before he dumps them in a cell "But going after plain old people for the hell of it? Tch."

Qrow and Winter share another look. It's nice, he guesses, not being the only one having the roots what you'd thought reality was turned to ash underneath you. He never thought he'd be sharing this sort of moment with the Ice Queen, but here they are.

Qrow swallows before returning his focus to the actual discussion. The rules, reasons and history might have changed, but it's still the same war.

Port–Phanuel–Brothers, that's gonna take some getting used to–is the next to chime in. "Our current plans are to combine Azazel and my own peoples, along with whatever surviving renegades from the Myriad of Destruction we can convince to join our cause rather than be destroyed with the rest of their ilk, as well as the scattered traitors, lone wolves and firebrands scattered about Earth, the Underworld and the rest of the more heavily populated worlds can be convinced to do the same into a single Kingdom here on Remnant."

Azazel nods, looking more serious as they're getting into the meat of the discussion. "Of course, the new Obsidian Polity will be purchasing the lands we settle on and legitimacy of rule by lending our magical and martial prowess to the cause of defeating Salem and, hopefully, ensuring the Brothers don't return to the world they abandoned."

Serafall's expression has turned grimly contemplative. "So the Myriad of Destruction has been here all this time…Our reports mentioned Fallen Angels and a Myriad… but we'd assumed they were a different group. An offshoot or revitalization of a long dead tradition, not… They had been loyal to Heaven, not the Fallen cause at their last confirmed sighting." She phrases that last observation like a question.

Phanuel shrugs. "Oh, they killed off the loyalists in their ranks to be sure. But the bulk of the force led by Dummah fled to Remnant and has been working in the shadows until recently."

Serafall's gaze holds Phanuel's for a moment before looking away in thought, "I see."

Azazel interjects with a grimace. "There's more. The time dilation surrounding Remnant–And don't worry, Remnant is at a full one to one with the rest of the known cosmos now. Should have finished normalizing a few weeks back I think-they've had a few millennia to set themselves up as opposed to the few centuries we've had to recover from the Great War."

Phanuel nods, "Oh, yes it has been a few thousand years. If you thought Oz is bad now, Az, you should have seen the state he was in when we first met."

Oz heaves a put-upon, overly tired sigh. "Gentlemen, please, let's at least try to stay on topic."

Rune mouths to herself 'time dilation' with a troubled, pondering expression as Serafall nods in understanding. "So then it's safe to assume that both the Myriad and Weary have stable populations as well as fully established, albeit hidden, societies?"

Azazel nods. "Got it in one. They've even got their hooks into some of the old families to be found on Remnant. Well, the Myriad do." He trails off, before looking over at Oz "Your boy Arc knows more than a little about that firsthand."

Qrow blinks, there being only one Arc 'boy' they could possibly be talking about. "Jaune Arc as in Solus' kid? Leading that freshman team… Juniper, I think? The hell's he got to do with–?"

Ironwood rolls his eyes and gestures at Azazel. "Just play the recordings, Azazel. While I'm sure they believe what you are from your little show, more tangible proof will speed things along." He offers a sympathetic look to his subordinate and even one to Qrow.

Azazel nods agreeably, and pulls a scroll out of his pocket, before tapping away at it, prompting the rarely-used screen above and behind Oz's desk to lower, before the security camera footage of the fight he'd been working with Team JNPR during over a month ago now playing out... differently than he remembers. The brats all sprouting wings-along with a bunch of their enemies-for one. All four of them slinging around powers that their semblances can't possibly account for. The second recording starts just as the first ends with Arc doing something after putting his right hand right in front of Qrows face. Specifically, it starts with a bunch of uniformed Fallen Angels slaughtering a bunch of people on what must be the day of the Breach. When Arc's team does show up, they pretty quickly make the showing they'd put on while fighting with Qrow look downright tame.

Qrow is just about done at this point. "Oz, if you keep dropping all these bombs on me, I'm gonna need something stronger than what I've got here and what you've got there." He gestures to his flask and then to Oz's stash respectively.

Winter seems to be hanging onto her own composure by a thread herself. "Respectfully, sir, I hate to admit this, I really do, but I agree with Mr. Branwen."

"Thanks, Ice Queen." Qrow dryly retorts.

Phanuel quirks a playful eyebrow so reminiscent of Pete. "Already, Qrow? We've barely started."

He wasn't kidding…

The next few hours kind of fade into each other. The Three Factions. Earth. Magic and Sacred Gears–With Azazel having as big a hard on for them as Ruby does for weapons in general. Qrow's not sure he wants them to meet, it will either be magnificent or terrifying, maybe both. What really caught Qrow's attention were the Longinuses: actual God-killing weapons. Which are almost certainly among their best options to finally end Salem.

That said, he's having a hell of a time wrapping his head around all these facts and secrets that Oz had been holding out on him. The big one especially. It makes his sister's betrayal seem less hard to bear. He's still pissed at her for it, but can see why. Kind of. If that really is why she pulled a runner. Hell, even Raven never told him when she could've just done that, but she never did… Always opting for some variation on 'don't trust Oz' or some other vague, purposely mystic sounding crap. Oh, he's a bit pissed at Oz too. And Summer for keeping things a secret but he gets it. He doesn't like it, but he at least gets that those two had his best interests at heart. Even if they'd been pretty shitty about showing it.

Y'know what, whatever. Gotta keep moving forward, for Ruby, Yang, Tai and Summer's memory.

At some point during the conversation, Rune had pulled chairs from a closet for everyone. And provided glasses of water and a pitcher to refill from. Even took down some notes a few times for Serafall, returned to her green suit and skirt–who, now that he thinks about it, he'll need to try to get a bit better with crap like that some time, maybe even ask her for a hand with it. For professional reasons of course. All without any prompting. In general, aside from that over-the-top demonstration of hers alongside Serafall, the kid had been a picture-perfect aide to Serafall, and mostly stayed out of the conversation for almost the entirety of its duration. Whenever Qrow looked at her, sometimes she'd offer him a friendly smile back at him, or a playful wink. Probably indulging a bit in that playful side of hers that had reared its head earlier in an attempt to stave off boredom. At least that's what it'd look like on the surface. After catching her eyes with his, he'd figured out her game pretty quickly.

Kid's was way smarter than she's letting on, and has a pretty decent idea of how to take advantage of her natural charm and looks. Sure, she could still use some polish now but she's still young. He'll probably have to watch out for what she'd get up to in the future, though.

He's reserving judgment for Azazel and Serafall. As much as he wants to write this 'Myriad of Destruction', off as their problem, they'd made it damn clear that those unsavory bastards had infiltrated the Kingdoms on a pretty fundamental level. That, and that they're bad news, which would have been his assessment even without the recordings of what they put Solus' kids team through. Qrow's more than a little worried that things with them are gonna be escalating soon, and knowing his luck, that's gonna hit at the same time Salem's people do.

Eventually, no more questions bubble up from him or Winter for a good minute or two, and none of the others look like they have anything to add. The two newcomers cement their place in the Fight, Qrow taking a moment to reaffirm his own commitment. Not that it had ever faltered in the first place, but with what he'd learned about Raven, it feels like the right call, one Oz appears grateful for. Phanuel or Phan–and his actual species and age–will take some getting used to, but Qrow is more glad their friendship hadn't been faked than anything else in that regard.

Ozpin nods to Jim, Az and Serafall, before looking over at Qrow. "I'm sure that this has been quite a lot for you and Miss Schnee to process. James will provide both of you with non-networked Scrolls containing more comprehensive information to peruse at your own convenience in the morning." Oh yeah, on top of everything else they're dealing with a potentially compromised CCTNet and may very well be on the verge of a nasty cyberwar with the whole world watching. "That said, he, Azazel, Serafall and myself have a good deal more to cover, and the rest of you have your own lives and duties to attend to as well."

More than happy to get away from this madness before his head explodes, Qrow accepts the dismissal with a nod and a half-salute, falling into step with the Ice Queen as she moves towards the elevator as well. "Look, Winter, I know we normally go through a whole song and dance before we dust up..."

"If by song and dance you mean that you insult my personality and destroy as much Atlesian Armed Forces property as you are able, then yes." She snips back at him.

Qrow slouches exaggeratedly, and to the side just enough to nudge her side with his elbow. "Hey, you start it plenty of times by going after my stuff."

She rolls her eyes and edges away from him, dusting off her side like he was dirty or something. Well, he's pretty sure he isn't at least. Doesn't look like he got anything on her uniform. "All I did was destroy some of the crutches you use to keep your broken down body and addled mind going, Branwen. If anything, you should have thanked me, not attacked me."

"You know what–" Qrow cuts himself off and takes a deep breath. "Look, I don't know about you, but a proper spar to blow off some stress sounds pret-ty damn good right now." the extra emphasis on 'pretty' dragging the word out just enough to mess with her-well, with most people. Yang and Ruby got their overly popped p's from somewhere, and he isn't ashamed to take the credit.

Winter presses her lips into a thin line, and casts a wary, side-long glance over at him. "Very well, but if–"

"Sparring ring. One of the bigger ones. I don't want to have to repair any public spaces with the opening ceremony for the Tournament starting in a few hours. Now go." Goodwitch interjects, before slapping out with her crop. Telekinetic lashes swat both their asses, getting twin yelps and scowls aimed at the deputy headmistress from both of them. But they both falter as the bespectacled blonde shoots a steely glare at both of them.

Honestly, it isn't like they fought that often, or that there tends to be that much property damage when they do usually. Honest.

To add insult to injury, Phan, Sera and Rune start laughing and giggling at various levels; even Jim and Oz share amused smiles, the two-faced bastards. And the top bastard himself, Azazel, almost looks ready to fall on the floor as he cackles, letting loose with what they are all probably thinking. "I'm pretty sure she just told you two to get a room! Don't forget to use protection!" He caps off with a suggestive wink.

"I meant Aura, all you people get your heads outta the gutter." He rolls his eyes as he 'corrects' a fresh round of spluttering as the other half of the room laughs even harder.

Oh that was just rich. Bastard lied through his teeth as casually as he breathed. Trouble with a capital T.

Qrow and Winter give him a red-faced double glare before leaving for that desperately needed spar.

_-*R-DxD*-_

Winter's personal ship is docked on the Academy grounds.

Ruby's dad had point blank told the Dolt that he was going to meet up with her Uncle.

Not that either of them had been able to find hide nor hair of their often-away relatives for the last few hours. And that's with the aid of the family and teammate tracking functions most Scrolls designed with Huntsmen in mind come with. Most of her acquaintances back in Atlas had scoffed at those functions as 'family stalkers.'

When someone you truly care for earned their keep in society by leaving the safety of the Kingdoms to seek out the monsters prowling at the gates, those functions are one of the few safeguards between a successful rescue operation and an empty seat at family gatherings. Weiss had overheard both Ruby and Yang mumbling about how they wished the tracker function had come out sooner several times over the course of the year. Considering that each time it had happened when neither girl had expected anyone to hear her, Weiss had held her peace.

"I mean, they have both been on 'do not disturb' for the last few hours, Weiss. Not to sound like Yang, but, maybe they're, erm, well, y'know…" Ruby awkwardly offers as she trails behind Weiss, who is not aimlessly stomping around campus in search of a shock of familiar white hair.

Is Ruby implying that… She is! Weiss spins around on her toes to walk backwards and glare at the Dolt. "Ruby Rose. Are you implying that my elder sister, and your uncle–who would be old enough to be her father, considering he was your father's teammate–are having an illicit affair?"

Ruby is blushing up a storm as she taps her index fingers together, not looking Weiss in the eye. "I mean, your parents were kinda old when they started having kids–compared to mine anyways. And there's a lot more time between you and Winter than me and Yang, going by the pictures of her you showed me at least." She pauses, before working up the courage to look back at Weiss' stern gaze. Weiss lifts an eyebrow in response. "And, well, would it really be so bad if we could maybe get to be cousins some day?" Clearly, Ruby has been spending too much time with the likes of Heracles and Hyoudou. To say nothing of Yang's influence.

Before Weiss can even begin to lambast the Dolt, both of their Scrolls chirp at them. Ruby's eyes light up, and Weiss is able to pick up some of her partner's exuberant exclamations before vanishing in a cloud of rose petals. Letting out a sigh and a small grin, Weiss starts jogging towards the dot on her Scroll indicating where her sister is.

Hopefully when she meets back up with the Dolt after they've both caught up with their family she'll have forgotten the conversation or moved on. A few turns and she's out by the sparring rings. Of course. Winter is probably training with her subordinates.

Weiss slows to a walk, then strolls the rest of the way to the door her Scroll had led her to. She nearly plows into Ruby.

Wait.

"Ruby? What are you doing here?"

A bit flushed, Ruby holds up her scroll. The same app had led her to the same room. She forces down a snicker. "Maybe we should, you know–" she awkwardly gestures away with her head."–give'em a few minutes to…" Ruby blushes again. "get decent?" She squeaks out that last part.

"I'm sure that they were doing nothing untoward, Ruby Rose." Weiss quietly snaps back before taking the last two steps towards the door and passing her Scroll over its lock. The panel chirps cheerily, and the door slides open to reveal...

Weiss recognizes this room. Less than a week ago they'd been spending time with Rias' peerage in it. One of the walls has a massive dent in it.

Over half the bleachers have been torn up and scattered around the room, one of them having been driven through the screen that takes up most of the room on the wall opposite the door. Half the lights are either dead or flickering and at least one of the sprinklers mounted to the ceiling has been torn loose.

It's frozen over, so no more water is escaping into the room, but still.

Her sister and an older man–who Weiss will admit to being able to spot a few similarities to Yang–are both laying on their backs, limbs splayed out, clothes disheveled and panting heavily.

"Uncle... Qrow?" Ruby timidly asks from behind her. The man half-rolls over to look up at the entrance. He holds up one (shaking) arm, thumb pointed skyward, before letting it flop back down. "Oh no, Harbringer!" The Dolt exclaims, before darting down into the ring to fuss over a scythe that looks almost as ridiculous as Crescent Rose, several nicks covering it, and a few exposed gears looking out of place or ground down. Weis is about to make a comment about the weapons craftsmanship, until she notices Winter's Crystalline Duty are a few feet from their wielder, looking just as rough as Ruby's uncle's weapon.

The older man lets out a low chuckle. "Ya know… Ice Queen… sparring ring or not… Glynda's gonna… have our heads for this."

Before Weiss can snap at him, it becomes clear he isn't talking to her. "Nonsense… With my sister's… recent enrollment to Beacon… it is… only natural that the Schnee family make… a charitable donation towards… facility upgrades and… maintenance." Weiss isn't sure what's happening and isn't sure she wants to find out. Distracting herself, she looks around, where did Winter's jacket–oh, there it is, hanging from one of the legs of the chair driven back-first into one of the room's upper… corners…

Seriously, how!?

The seats in this room were made of particle-board, aluminum and pleather! The amount of force needed to drive it into solid concrete should have shattered it!

[[Turkey Celica.

Marlinaster.

Baguette Shroud.

Mellonhild.]]

Right, if they'd been able to weaponize food as Freshman, it's perfectly reasonable for fully licensed Huntsmen and Huntresses to be able to weaponize anything they please. Winter breathes in deeply. "Weiss. It's good to see you. How have you been doing?" She greets her sister, voice surreally placid and informal. She's stopped panting now, at least.

"Don't worry about Harbinger, kiddo. It's been through worse and still got me home plenty 'a times." Qrow's gaze bounces to Winter before he flops over to his side and starts moving to stand up.

"I, umm. I'm doing well, Winter?"

"That's good to hear. We should do brunch and catch up. Tomorrow?" Winter's gentle smirk softens out, and she starts curling up like Blake about to take a nap.

Weiss blinks. She blinks a second time. Who is this strange woman and what has she done with Winter? "I, umm, I have prior engagements, unfortunately." Best not to risk Father finding out before it's too late.

Winter pouts–pouts!–at that reply. "After your team clears the first round then?"

Weiss nods slowly, her expression gradually warming up, albeit a touch hesitantly. "That… that sounds wonderful."

"Come on, then, Snow Queen. Even with you throwing your checkbook at the problem, none of us want to be here when Goodwitch finds out what we did to the place." Qrow ambles over to Winter and holds out his hand, which she begrudgingly accepts, letting him haul her to her feet.

The elder Huntsman casts a glance over to his niece, who is happily trotting over to him, overly-complex gray scythe in her hands like a puppy with a stick. "I got stuff to do myself, and I know how bad pre-tournament jitters can be. We can catch up while the Princesses Ice are doing their thing. Sound good?" Ruby nods excitedly as she hands Qrow's weapon back to him. The grinding, clicking noise it makes as it retracts into a single-bladed broadsword can't be good, if her months of fighting along Ruby with her similar weapon is anything to go by.

Winter holds up her hand, and a small black Glyph spins to life, then launches her filthy jacket to the waiting hand. She frowns at the ruined garment, before slinging it over her shoulder. Which only draws more attention to how disheveled her typically immaculate hair is. Winter's other hand catches and sheathes her blade, which had probably been borne towards her by another Glyph.

Honestly, taking the two of them in, if Weiss didn't know any better, she'd assume that her sister and Ruby's Uncle really had been–

"Well, shucks." An amused adult male voice sounds out from behind her, and Weiss nearly jumps out of her skin. She notes that Ruby does the same with a squeal while Winter and Qrow tense up as they look behind her. "When I went to find you two, I wasn't expecting a family reunion. So sweet." Wary of the Huntsmen's reaction, Weiss cautiously turns around to get a look at the interloper as well. Somehow, the man manages to make Ruby's uncle look reputable in his sloppy crimson leisure suit, gelled up, blonde-tipped black hair and half-slouching posture as he approaches.

The Schnee heiress carefully edges away from the stranger and towards her sister as he closes in on their group. It doesn't help that Weiss' magical senses are all but screaming out a warning to her.

If he even is a man… She almost, almost misses the days where a well-hidden Faunus malcontent with ill intent was her greatest fear.

The Huntsman heaves a half-hidden, disgruntled sigh, before asking in an incredibly tired tone, "What do you want?" Ruby looks at her uncle in concern before guardedly returning her gaze to the interloper.

The interloper gives a slow lazy, shrug before replying. "I'd been hoping to catch the tail end of your spar. Maybe, y'know, get something to properly compare to the kids' tournament coming up that's not some pre-recorded or potentially made-up footage." His violet eyes cast about idly taking in the devastation. "Seeing this, I'm almost disappointed I'll just have the recording to go off of. I mean, I've seen worse collateral. But not bad, you two."

What?

Qrow quietly scoffs, but his red eyes never leave the other man, "Of course you have."

Winter lets out a sigh–that Weiss certainly hasn't had her teammates shoving recordings of her mimicking–in her face for months now, and replies, "The camera's right there." She jerks her head at a handful of sparking, mangled lumps of metal up near the ceiling of the room.

The man pouts at the sight, "Nuts~! Ah well." His disappointment doesn't last long as he gives a shrug of his shoulders. "I figure I'll get plenty of chances to see you two in action down the line anyhow, so it's not that big of a deal."

"Future's always in motion, I suppose." Qrow shrugs back noncommittally while Winter opts to remain silent and coolly stares back at the strange man who only snickers as if the other man had said something particularly amusing.

Weiss tenses up when the man's gaze shifts from Winter and Qrow to her, before he moves his violet eyes onto her best friend who goes just as rigid as Weiss had under his curious gaze. "Weiss Schnee and Ruby Rose?" He asks, sounding more curious than anything else. At their measured but polite affirmations he offers them both a genial smile. "Good to finally meet you; Ozpin has told me quite a bit about your team. You kids should be proud of everything you've done already. Oz sure is!"

Weiss slowly relaxes as Ruby flushes and replies, "That's, umm, that's good to hear. We try our best and have some pretty awesome teachers." Ruby glances at her uncle who gives a half smile in response.

"So I've heard! Saw the footage of the freeway chase too. He definitely had a point about you girls and collateral–you're trying to avoid that, not set a high score." Ruby blanches in mortification and fidgets in place while Qrow nods in actual agreement with a neutral expression at her. Weiss notices Winter sporting a similar expression and it's all she can do not to curl in on herself.

"Uh-um, we're trying to do better. That is–I mean, we are gonna do better." Ruby half-stutters resolutely, straightening her back and resolutely meeting those violet eyes with determination as she finishes the sentence.

"That's a start." The stranger's smirk softens but he doesn't divert his inquisitive stare from Ruby. "Huh, silver. Just like he said they are. Never seen that color before." Both of the young Huntresses-in-training tense up at. Weiss and Ruby had become wary of anyone taking too much of an interest in them after they'd figured out how they work, particularly due to the supernatural implications behind them. On top of that, the way he said 'color' made it sound like he was really talking about something else entirely.

The stranger continues, "Oz also mentioned that you've got a passion for tinkering with weapons. Makin'em and figuring out what makes'em tick." Of course he had to go and say that. Ruby perks up and nearly all of the caution she'd been showing bleeds away. Weiss just rolls her eyes, tension leaving her, again. Qrow seems torn between being proud of his niece and wary of the other man. Since the start of the conversation Winter's been discretely edging closer to Weiss as well.

Oh, honestly. It isn't like they're children who need to be worried about stranger-danger or something. Besides, if Headmaster Ozpin vouches for him, he can't be that bad.

Right?

The blond-fringed man steps a little closer, past Weiss to lean in towards Ruby and offers her a conspiratorial smirk. "Y'know, I'm something of a tinkerer myself. Maybe you could show me some of your work later on? I've heard that scythe of yours is something special. I know 'prints are kinda personal, but I'm willing to share if you are."

Ruby's hands clasp together in delight as she leans forward. "Ooh, yes! I'd love to show off my Sweetheart!"

Her uncle interjects, "Anyway, Ruby, you said you had other plans, so we'll leave you to it. I'll catch you later." He shares a small fist bump with his niece before moving forward looking to step past the stranger.

As he tries to slip by, the other man catches him by the arm and swiftly moves around to place his own arm around Qrow's shoulder, the Huntsman tenses up and glares at the man's hand, but doesn't move to shrug him off either.

The enigmatic man's carefree smile is entirely unbothered by the fact that a Huntsman–Qrow Brawnwen at that–is glaring daggers at the offending limb. If Weiss didn't know any better, she'd expect the interloper to be moments away from losing his arm with how he's carrying on. "Now don't be like that! Your niece isn't the only one who Oz had nothing but good things to say about. I know the three of us got off on unsteady footing," He slings his arm over Winter's shoulders lazily and pulls both of them tight to him. "But we're gonna be seeing an awful lot of each other in the future. So I figured we could stand to mingle a bit. Get ta know each other, ya know? How 'bout we share a drink later, my treat?" He leans in to whisper something to Qrow, Weiss can't can't hear most of it, but she does pick out the word 'luck' which gets Qrow to go stiff as a board and an awkward mix between hope and bitterness crosses his face at that.

The strange man withdraws his arms and steps forward before turning back to them, holding his arms out invitingly. "Well?"

After a moment Qrow rolls his eyes and runs a hand through his hair. "Oz has been running his trap too much… Well, with you making an offer like that, I'd be a moron to refuse." He considers the man again, before he cordially waves away the stranger's worries. "There's no real bad blood between us, Frost, just a rough start. A lot to sort through, y'know." Frost? Hmm. "My old teammate, Tai's in town, along with at least ten-dozen other Huntsmen our age. I'll get a spar set up to show you what a few pros going at it really looks like, and get some of Tai's rust knocked loose at the same time. How 'bout it, Snow Queen? Looking to unwind later after spending time with your sister?"

Winter considers the two men for a moment before the tension drains back out of her frame as well. She nods a touch stiffly. "Very well, if only for the sake of cooperation."

Weiss and Ruby share a confused glance, but remain silent. Neither is entirely sure if they want to keep Frost's attention, or simply be forgotten and left to their own devices.

Winter moves past Weiss, pausing to offer her a friendly nod. "Weiss."

The trio of adults wander down the hallway.

For a few minutes the pair of them stand there in complete silence.

"So…" Ruby breaks the silence, uncertainty heavy on her voice. "Unless I was imagining things… They're meeting with someone who's… Involved with paranormal stuff."

Eloquent as ever, Ruby…

"No, I got that impression, too." Weiss agrees. The world might be a lot bigger–and stranger–than she had thought it was when she got to Beacon, but this is an awful lot happening unusually fast as far as she is concerned. Between what she's learned from her friendships with Jaune and Ravel, as well as the Heroes; she isn't exactly sure that that's a good thing.

Ruby, of course, displays none of the reservations Weiss is feeling. "Well, he was kinda weird, but I liked him."

Weiss gives Ruby a deadpan look. "Of course you'd say that. He went out of his way to bring up weapons and tinkering with you. Pot," She points at Ruby, "kettle." she jerks her thumb over her shoulder in the direction the adults had left in "Black." she gestures at Ruby, who is conveniently in her combat skirt, corset and blouse.

Ruby sticks her tongue out at–

The control podium for, well, most of the sparring ring explodes. Ruby forces an awkward laugh out. "Ya know, Uncle Qrow was probably right about being here when Professor Goodwitch finds out what they did to the room."

Weiss can feel her skin paling. "Festival grounds?"

Ruby nods. "Festival grounds."

_-*R-DxD*-_

Silence.

Well, mostly. There is some murmuring, but that's just how people are.

She'd asked for the packed arena to be frequently reminded to keep quiet as part of the negotiations to do this. With how popular the cries for her to open the last Vytal Tournament had been, that concession had been easy. The rest of her requirements hadn't been much more difficult to secure.

The doors slide down and open and she starts walking. This is new. This is exciting.

A straight line from the south gate to the microphone at center stage–the middle of the arena–and Weiss doesn't falter, feet already tapping in time with the not-yet-started beat as she advances on the barely visible pole. Father has always controlled her musical career. Treated it as nothing more than another tool in his arsenal. A charity show to counter some tragedy he wrote off as 'bad press' here or an appearance at some peer's gala to snub their rival there, the occasional effort to undercut some supposed partner that he was upset with. Always open stages and bright lights with no 'frills'. Her voice alone, the band offstage at best, though usually just a recording. No lights, no pyro, smoke, strobes, or backup anything for her to work or play with.

Her coaches and teachers had instructed her on the importance of Stage Presence, then the same man who had forced the lessons on her had stripped away all but the most basic of means to attain that from her.

Weiss doesn't even bother trying to hide the smirk as it crosses her face.

Having been fully accepted to Beacon as a Huntress-in-training, Jacques' legal guardian status has finally been superseded by her now being a legal adult as far as any of the four kingdoms are concerned. It may only be a year early, but the difference is colossal.

Weeks negotiating with Headmaster Ozpin and the committee selected by the rest of Vale's Council. Months spent working on the lyrics and composition, finally unfettered by Father's insistence that she rely on 'proper professionals' to put her songs lyrics and composition together, despite four of her six chart-toppers having been pencil-whipped by the more agreeable individuals Jacques had hired. That had only taken a dash of pressure from her after some pointedly frank, politely professional, one artist to another conversations. She still accepted their feedback on the songs, but very little else had been done, and all of it in plain sight of the otherwise clueless old bastard.

An energy swells within her. Thoughts of her Team, JNPR, Ravel, Rias' peerage, CFVY, the Heroes, Klein, Winter and even her mother and Whitley fill her mind's eye. She's come far in her life despite all obstacles.

Amity's murmuring had actually fallen silent after the door had whisked open and shut. The only sound as she closes the last few steps is the rhythmic clicking of her heels on the steel floor.

"Whooo-oa-aa-o-aa!" Her chorus cries out as her hand wraps around the mic stand. A quick burst of electric guitars, baas and synths layering under and around the gathered voices.

The sound cuts out, only for a battalion's worth of feet to stomp in unison. Stomp. Stomp-STOMP.

One beat's pause more and she leans into the mic, "Ladies and Gents, this is the moment you've been waiting for."

The crowd explodes in excitement at the sound of her voice. Her 'chorus' second wordless cry all but drowned out by their cheers. The second set of stomps utterly buried by their exuberance. A single spotlight burning away the early evenings chill as it flares to life pointed directly down onto her from the jumbo-tron above. Black suit-pants, a crisply pressed matching blouse above it, all trimmed in pale-blue piping. She's wearing a pristine white, coat-tailed suit-jacket with the same blood-red inner lining as her combat outfits half-jacket over that.

"You've been searchin' in the dark, sweat soakin' through the floor."

Another beats pause. Another cry from her chorus. Another round of stomping.

Most of the audience joins in this time, a half-beat behind at best.

The two most far-flung screens around the arenas edges spring to life, recordings of the different bands and singers that had preceded her opening a Vytal Tournament-since the Festivals inception, no one has opened more than one-flickering to silent life in an homage to the voices that had been tweaked, remastered and edited to back her up.

The third time, the entire stadium joins the re-mastered chorus' cry and Weiss feels like she's going deaf. She can feel the gathered masses stomping with the baas drums and recorded feet in the beat between that and her next line in her bones.

And not in a figurative sense.

"Buried in your bones there's and ache that'cha can't ignore." she drawls on as the screens to the direct right and left of the two showing her 'back-up' light up. One for each of the four Kingdoms, the national Emblems burning proudly and brightly.

Stomp.

She pulls the mic stand free form its base. "Takin' your breath."

STOMP-STOMP.

Four more spotlights flare alive, one in blue, orange, green and white. "Stealin' your mind."

The beat steadies out, baas drums and low brass holding the same pace set by the pounding feet. Four more lights in the same shades, each shifted one spot to the right flare to life. "And all that you fear is left behind!"

The next set of lights flares alive a half-dozen beats later as she pulls the mic from it's base, the staff-like wireless equipment protruding form the devices business end forming the perfect prop for her to work with as her show carries on. "Don't fight it's coming for ya running at'cha." Father is probably furious at her turn of phrase; but the crowd is still howling in ecstasy as she drops into the rhythm and starts working to keep her voice as close to the floor of her range as she can push it, more of a smokey growl for now-she'll raise her pitch back to the higher, soaring soprano she's known for later.

The third set of lights flare to life as she starts pacing the stage. "It's only this moment don't care what comes after." The Jumbo-tron finally springs to life. Recordings from past Vytal Tournaments opening ceremonies rolling across it's screens. Dozens, then hundreds of different Teams walking into the arena, smiling, waving, posing and posturing.

"Your fever dream, can't you see it getting closer?" The last set of spotlights burn to life, the entire area now lit up in a wild mix or the Four Kingdoms colors. "Just surrender 'cause ya feel the feeling taking over."

Quick, short breaths. Keep your lungs full and voice strong. The band is starting to crescendo now, she has a bit more room to wiggle in vocally now that there's more going on. "Its fire, it's freedom it's floodin' open!" The shots of teams being introduced under the broken moon give way to fights starting.

"I'm the preacher, here's the pulpit and it's splitting open!" Big wave of her free hand under the lights. If it weren't for her earpiece she wouldn't be able to hear her own voice. "We're the bricks of every wall that you huddle under!"

The old recordings above her transfer from walk-ins to proper fights.

"All that you know, so tell me do you wanna go?" Weiss belts out into her mic, nearly doubled over at her waist, sword-hand holding it right up to her mouth, right arm splayed out behind her, hand as wide-open as she can hold it.

Here comes the chorus of her predecessors again.

"Where the lights shine from all of our souls." Slam the but of her mic-cane into the stage and start pacing. "Where the Huntresses are runnin' the night!" She flips her mic-staff in the air as she twirls, free hand gesturing to the arena as the scaffolding pulse yellow, then purple from lightning and gravity dust discharges.

The screens above shifting to some of the flashier semblances that have been used in this arena over the years now.

"Impossible comes true, we're taking over now." She slams the mic-staff down to the arena floor, one of her sigils flashing out from around her feet, leaving a thin coating of frost on the floor a dozen or so feet out from her.

A quick, second pulse of gravity dust-finding a way to hide the vials on her costume had been a pain-shatters the frost. A quick burst of well-placed pyro has the air around her glittering.

"OH! This is the Greatest Show!" she exclaims, leaning back as she shouts it out, free hand thown wide to her side.

Is it a bit narcissistic to hope this show, this song will add another epithet to the dozens attached to the Vytal Tournament? Probably. She's still going to try though.

"We light it up and we won't come down." She starts pacing the stage as some truly impressive feats of acrobatics and aerial combat take over the bulk of the screens not given over to symbolism above her. "Cuz the Grimm can't hold us no!"

Is it a risk to invoke the monsters threatening their homes in song? Yes. But if the Festival is a Universal Exhibition, a showing of all the scientific, military and cultural progress of the last two years, the Tournament is a blatant show of force. If the students are this good, just immagine how much more the licensed professionals out there keeping you safe can do?

"Watching it come true, we're taking over now." She plants her feet again as the chorus repeats the song's title, and a burst of colored laser lights become visible for a moment in the cloud of steam and ice behind her for a moment.

She drops her tone back down as low as she can push it again. "United we come as warriors to the ring."

The space just behind the arena's center opens up, and a quartet of pedestals slowly start rising up.

The scenes of combat cut away to different singles-round openers from across the years. This year's first place trophy, the Platinum Lamp, inches above her head. Then the Golden Staff, Silver Sword and finally Bronze Crown all join it as the champions podiums all rise into the sky.

"Until one stands alone to be crowned as the champion."

Yes, the Crown was last year's platinum trophy, but she'll leave claims of lamping, swording and/or staffing champions to the parody artists.

She fires back into the refrain as soon as the podiums cease their rise and the screens above her return to fights of tournaments past. She paces as she belts out the lyrics. Her own back up and the audience stomping and chanting half-a beat behind her accompaniment half-a-beat at best behind as good as pentacostal ravings. She's never gotten to perform like this before and she feels alive finally.

She reaches the final bar of the refrain and shouts out "This is the Greatest Show!"

As the arena's outer portion open up, and the central, singles-round dias starts to rize. A wall of flame obscuring her for a flash, before massive plinths of ice expand from the half-risen dias' perimeter.

She takes another moment to collect her breath as her chorus begins alternating between male and female voices declaring 'it's everything you'll ever want' and 'it's everything you'll ever need'.

The screens now showing the dozens of instances of combatants popping The Question after a win at some point in the tournament rather than fights now. It takes real certainty to propose with the eyes of the whole world on you live–no one wants to get rejected with that sort of attention–but it still tends to happen at least once every festival.

Two more Repetition of the chorus and–oh, she'll need to apologize to Yang and Ruby. She'd expected it to be the woman they'd shown her pictures of while talking about their mom sucking their dads face off on the screen. Not a red-eyed, black haired variation on Yang. Nothing for it now.

As quickly as they had rose, the pillars holding the trophies–that will hold up the top four fighters in a little over a week–recede down into the arena, fully receding by the time the champions ring is halfway to the Jumbo-tron and glides to a halt. She stomps backward first with her left foot. Then her right, perfectly centering herself under. She claps above her head and nearly all of the instrumental cuts out.

"Where lights come from all of our souls." It's just her voice and the chorus, more chanting than singing now. "Where the Huntsmen are running the night." Her only accompaniment now is stomping and clapping continuing from what she had started as she slams the mic back down into the stand.

"Impossible comes true, it's taking over you." Now the crowd is stomping and clapping, each beat resounding like thunder in her chest. "Oh, this is the greatest show!" One last burst of lasers refract off the perfect ice crystals.

"We light it up, and we won't come down." Champions holding up their fists under the lights of the finals flash across the screens again. "And the Grimm can't hold us no!" Oh, that line had the audience screaming along with her. "Watching it come true, it's taking over you."

"This is the greatest show!" The entire arena had joined her for that one. This… this could get addicting.

She launches into her final refrain. With every line another screen showing recordings goes dead. One by one the lights that aren't in one of the kingdoms colors flick out. The chanting, stomping and clapping crescendoing with every beat until she's all but shouting.

Then, she gets to her final line, and does. "This is the greatest show!" As the last syllable clears her mouth every last light in the entire colosseum cuts out-all the screens go black, every light on her or inside the inner hallways, anything that could throw off a single lumen of light goes dead. Weiss sweeps her off hand, and her mic staff across her chest and drops into a ninety degree bow. Her sword hand points straight up in the same motion, index finger aimed skyward, thumb parallel to the ground. Above her a massive hologram flares to life above her. The same amalgamation of the Four Kingdoms emblems that has been on posters that no one has been able to go more than a block without seeing since the festival started. Except, instead of being imposed over Amity's outline, the number fortey is superimposed over the emblem, looking more like it had been hastily painted over the top than designed by some promotor.

With her ponytail, maybe a third of the arena won't be able to see how flush-faced she is, the sweat beading on her brow or the manic grin on her face. She waits two beats for the emblem to go Atlesian white, then spins the biggest glyph she can to life. Her frame illuminated solely by the hologram, and her semblance as the arena slowly lowers down to the ground.

---

So! Here we are at the start of the 40th Vytal Tournament (story arc!) Took long enough! When I first was outlining this fic a few years back I'd expected this point to be at chapter 20 or so, heh. Yea, that didn't pan out, but I hope all of you think the storys better for that.

The song Weiss sang is The Gretest Show, a mishmash between the original from the movie, and the Panic! At the Disco cover if you want a reference to listen to. And Serafal's outfit, well, the one she was showing off in, is out of one of her Mobage Game Cards if I flubbed the description too badly.

Beta'd by MasterPrince713 and Hybrid Theory

Cover art by Icario

Loved it? Hated it? Have boogie fever and need help getting your feet to stop moving to the beat? Drop a review, that shits my rocket fuel!