With Beacon's second semester underway, Raziel suddenly found himself with much more time on his hands. He couldn't exactly blame anyone, Velvet and her team had to go to class and that was more important than just hanging out in the city with some homeless bum. And hey, at least now he could get back to focusing on more pressing matters.
Getting stronger.
He tore apart a mutated soul, allowing the two halves of its body to be absorbed into him. Seeing another soul attempting to flee from him, he sprinted after it with his claws digging into the ground as he lunged forward. Claws digging into the soul's back, he pulled his lower mask down and bared his fangs at the soul before biting down and draining it.
Pulling his mask back into place, Raziel ran his tongue across his teeth as he grimaced. Those souls were barely doing anything for him these days, only finding use in being drained to refuel his ectoplasm. If he wanted to get strong enough to even stand a chance against Lady Death, he needed to find something stronger to feed on.
It was then that a shiver went down the back of his spine, frost escaping his lips as it turned his attention to a figure behind him. It was a knight clad in armor, with a blueish-green tunic underneath the metal. Wisps of energy leaked from the joints of the armor, and the knight's face was decayed and mangled beyond recognition. It didn't move or anything, instead just staring at him with empty sockets as he flexed his hand nervously.
Maybe next time he should be a bit more conscious of his thoughts.
"You gonna explain yourself or-"
The knight then took off, flying up into the air before staring down at him once again. Raziel pursed his lips, weighing his options in his mind before sighing and flying up after the knight.
He followed the knight through the air, unsure of what was going on as the two of them flew over the corrupted city. The twisted buildings gave way to the crashing waves of the lake below as they flew up towards the cliff which overlooked the city. His eyes narrowed as they came closer, a sudden realization that the imposing height of Beacon was gone.
In its place was simply nothing, an empty cliff on which only dirt and stone stood. The two of them landed on the cliff, the knight marching towards a dead tree at the edge of the cliff before kneeling at the base of it. The knight's armor began to dissipate, smokey ectoplasm floating around its body as its face began to melt onto the floor.
Raziel gagged as the face squirmed its way to the tree and sank into the dead bark. It was… to be honest, he had no fucking clue. Stepping closer to the tree did little to help, as not a single thing stood out of the ordinary. Placing his hand against the bark, he paused as something tickled at the back of his mind. Perhaps there was something off about this tree after all.
Digging his claws into the bark, he began to pry open a passage into the tree. Despite how easy it had seemed in his mind, the tree resisted his efforts to tear it apart, which made little sense to him. Muscles bulging as he pushed more power into them, he eventually did get the tree to give way and gasped at what he saw.
Within the tree saw what seemed to be another realm, one filled with more graves than there were blades of dead grass. The same blue fog which covered the Spectral Realm layered the ground here as well, only much thicker. So much so that he could barely see fifty feet in front of him. It was almost like Velvet's Limbo, a sort of pocket of reality within the Spectral Realm. Only this one was hidden by a tree of sorts.
Raziel stepped inside, ignoring the stretching sound of the bark pulling itself back together as he gave his surroundings a good look. He was on a sidewalk of some kind, though without any nearby road it was more likely to be a simple paved pathway. There was little else to look at though, other than more graves, so he picked a direction and began walking along the pathway.
"The more I learn about this place, the less it makes sense."
There was no sound other than that of his footsteps, leaving him feeling uneasy as he made his way through the fog. As someone who had grown up with the constant sounds of the city around him at all times, the complete silence made his skin crawl with the sensation that something wasn't quite right. An obvious thing to be aware of, sure, but that didn't stop the feeling from itching at him something fierce.
So, he was eternally grateful when the fog eventually gave way to show the ominous towers of Beacon Academy, or the Spectral Realm's version of it anyway. To be frank, it was much more intact than most of Vale had been. Possibly because there were less people dying on the campus grounds than in the city, but still. Perhaps if he were a student or someone else familiar with the school, he might've noticed some odd details. However, as things stood, it seemed to be in relatively good condition.
"A beauty, isn't it Raziel?"
Spinning around to face the voice, Raziel tensed his arms as a figure in a green hooded cloak and silver mask stared up at the academy. Not an inch of skin was exposed for him to see, with the closest thing being a gloved hand holding some staff which had a green crystal atop it. Unwilling to drop his guard, he flexed his claws once again as he questioned the stranger. "Who-"
"-am I? A valid question, but then, not the right one. I am too many to count, and yet too little to matter. I am Nobody, but you are Death. Or at least, half of Death."
That… went completely over his head. "What-"
"-does that mean? Another valid yet wrong question. Finding meaning in this realm of madness is pointless. It is a mess, a wretched place in need of a replacement. But that has yet to be relevant."
More than a little tired of getting interrupted, Raziel clenched his fist and went to speak again only to get interrupted for the third time.
"Why are you here? The first good question you've asked. You are here because your other is too strong and you need help, not that you know it yet. In order to get this help, you must ascend the Spectral Clocktower and find the Man of Many Faces who lives there."
Nobody pointed to the massive tower off in the distance, right at the center of the campus. It would be a long walk, though a quick fly should make it less of a hassle.
"When you fall, ask me 'What the hell was that?' if you could."
He ignored Nobody, leaping into the air as he bolted forward directly towards the tower. He eyed the top of it, brow furrowing as some sort of glow began to emanate from the top of it and-
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
A horrible droning sound practically exploded in his brain, sending him in a spiral down to the ground as he clutched at his head with a pained scream. He landed back in the graveyard with a heavy crash, toppling over some graves as the droning began to fade away.
Getting back to his feet, he turned to face Nobody with a pained expression. "What the hell was that?"
As soon as the last word left his lips, Nobody's last request rang out in his head, and he realized that he had played right into the asshole's hand. Something which the man seemed quite smug about as he tilted his head and hummed. "The CCT lies within the Spectral Clocktower, and it doesn't quite like intruders. You will need to get in without alerting the tower to your presence."
Raziel rubbed his head, annoyed at the cryptic old man but willing to work with him at the very least. "And how should I do that?"
"The doors in this place have unfortunately been all jumbled up, each one now leading to the wrong place. You can use this to your advantage and explore the labyrinth in order to find the door leading to the Spectral Clocktower, which should lie within the Amphitheater if I'm not mistaken."
His attention naturally turned to the front entrance of the school, realizing that he was going to be stuck dealing with random chance the whole time he was here. Ah, screw it. He had nothing better to do, and this was interesting at the very least.
Making his way to the front entrance, he paused as Nobody let out one final piece of advice.
"And do know that you will not be without opposition. Just remember that you are Death, and to wield the power of your souls to their fullest potential."
Filing that information under "Sounds useful but has little actual meaning to him", Raziel metaphorically rolled up his sleeves and stopped in front of the main doors. Placing his palms against them, he pushed the two heavy doors open and strolled inside.
"A hallway?"
The double doors shut behind him as he cautiously made his way down the hall, noting the many doors on either side of him. This must be the dorm hallway, or one of them at least. And if every door got jumbled then that also means that every single dorm is also a possible room for him to find.
Grabbing onto a door handle, Raziel sighed as he opened it to reveal a storage closet. This was going to take a while.
… … …
"And so, still feeling the effects of my overdose of Pervitin, I continued skiing across the mountains of Atlas in search of the legendary Sovelet! And though I may have blacked out for 60 miles, I did end up killing a pack of beowulves while in my drugged state!"
Velvet half-listened to Professor Port's story, completely disbelieving the credibility of it as she instead stared out of a nearby window and at the airships outside. It wasn't a completely alien view to her, as her brief time living in Atlas had numbed her to the heavy military presence that blanketed the city. However, seeing such might in Vale left a bad taste in her mouth.
Vale did not share the same "all for one" attitude that Atlas had, instead preferring an individualistic approach compared to Atlas' borderline totalitarian views. It was partially why she preferred Vale over Atlas, as while the people may be more apathetic to one another, they were also much less likely to judge you for your beliefs. If it didn't affect them, then it didn't matter.
In Atlas, it was the collective that took priority over the individual. Despite how advanced they were technologically, their social issues tended to be more noticeable than most other kingdoms. The rampant neglect and abuse of Faunus, the massive divide between the rich and everyone else, the cultural superiority Atlesians tended to hold, all of it.
Historically, she knew that there were many cases of island civilizations becoming much more ethnocentric because of their relative isolation compared to civilizations in close proximity to one another. In which case, Atlas' preference for their own made much more sense and even mirrored some sentiments she had seen in Menagerie.
She didn't like Atlas all that much, was the point.
"Left with only a longbow, bagpipes, and a basket-hilted broadsword, I leapt into the fray in order to take on the boarbatusk all by my lonesome!"
It was with that final thought that Velvet found herself content with zoning out for the rest of the class. Unfortunately, contentment died whenever a particular nosy leader to her right noticed she was in her own thoughts.
"Whatcha thinkin' over there Bun-Bun? Wondering how to convince your new 'friend' that you're crazy enough to stick it in?"
She cringed at Coco's gross bluntness, keeping her voice low as she quickly tried to nip whatever her leader was thinking in the bud. "No, you root rat. It isn't like that between us, okay?"
Coco had nothing but her love. Really, she did. In spite of how annoying she could be at times, the fashion obsessed girl couldn't be a better friend. However, it was those annoying bits which always gave her a headache. She was too nosy about other people's love lives, always butting in when she was least wanted. And in spite of her and Fox technically being best friends, Velvet always found herself the target of said nosiness because of her hesitance to mingle outside the team.
Just because she was shy didn't mean she was desperate.
"Yeah, I figured. Civvies and huntsmen don't mix after all, even ones as weird as that guy."
That… was honest at least., even if she felt bad for agreeing with her. Raziel was just too strange an individual, even outside of his death thing. If she had seen him passing by the street, she probably wouldn't have even noticed anything unique about him other than his browner complexion. It was his personality which mystified her as much as it put her on edge. He was honest, kind, and unnaturally grateful. All great traits to have in a person, but the way it manifested in him felt off. Not in the sense that he was hiding anything, but… she had no idea. It just didn't feel right.
"He's… content with life."
It was an attempt to be nice about it, though not one which stopped Coco from snorting almost derisively. "He's a few accessories short of an outfit is what you mean. What kind of person is content with eating out of a dumpster? Either he's deluded himself into thinking it isn't that bad, or he's just not quite all there anymore."
Once more, Coco remained the blunt one of the two of them. Even if Velvet couldn't say she hadn't thought something similar, she wasn't going to voice such thoughts out loud. Not only was it just kind of mean, but it also felt sort of like a betrayal to the guy. He had literally brought her back from the dead, after all. "Maybe so, but we shouldn't think less of him for it. He's… he clearly hasn't had a good time of it. I just feel kind of bad for him. He's a good person given a bad hand. Just doesn't seem fair."
Already she could imagine the response of "life ain't fair" being thrown at her, but the point remained all the same. Had anyone else she knew (including herself) been given the power that he had been, she couldn't exactly say that they'd make the same selfless decisions he had made so far. Most people would've definitely used said power for selfish reasons, but he seemed rather against the idea. Or at the very least, hadn't even imagined the possibility of using his powers for his own gain. It was almost childish in the best of ways, the sheer innocence which somehow preserved within him despite all that he had apparently been through. Despite how weird it sounded, he almost reminded her of that young freshman girl, Ruby something.
It made no sense.
"Gonna make him your charity case?"
Coco's tone was as light and humorous as ever, though Velvet found herself actually irritated at the insinuation. "He's not a charity case, Coco, he's a friend."
Thankfully, the girl seemed to pick up on her frustration quickly enough to immediately back off with an apologetic grin. "Sorry, sorry. I just meant that maybe you could help him out, is all. Call it being nosy if you want, but is it really a good idea to just let him stay in that situation? If you were in his shoes, I'd probably just kidnap you to make sure that you're doing alright."
"I'm not going to kidnap anyone, Coco."
Coco held her hands up defensively. "You don't have to. You said it was unfair, right? Well, why not try and make it fair."
Simple. That was the first thought in her mind after that. It was such a simple idea, so easy to just throw out there. But at the same time, was there any need for it to be complicated? Coco always said that thinking simply was the key to action, and even if she had always been referring to dating when saying it, that didn't make the statement any less valid. Sure, it was outside of Velvet's wheelhouse. She was a huntress first and foremost and had little idea how to even begin helping in this situation. She had no experience with this sort of thing, and it wasn't like she was well off enough to be able to support a whole other person. What could she even do?
Her mind flashed back to her time in that hellish Limbo. To when she had been on that side of that building and was terrified out of her mind. The only thing that had stopped her from falling had been believing that she wouldn't.
Well, if she could believe that she could defy gravity, then she could believe in herself to help a single person.
"You're right, for once."
Coco pulled a face at that but said nothing more as Velvet began to organize her thoughts into a plan of action. She had been right before when she had thought that she had no idea what she was doing. But she could simply ask someone else for advice. Maybe Ms. Goodwitch would be able to help? She was used to dealing with teenagers of all types, and she was also the school counselor for a reason. She had to have some idea of what could be done.
For the first time ever, Velvet found herself smiling in Professor Port's class. She was a huntress, helping people was basically her job description. Sure, technically she was supposed to help people with Grimm, but that was beside the point. This… this was like the moment in her Limbo. A test of faith, or maybe of commitment. A test of her ability to stick to her ideals even in unusual circumstances.
If she couldn't help Raziel, then she couldn't help anyone.
… … …
Raziel closed the door behind him, pressing his claw against the wood and carving a single line down into it, marking it as a dead-end path. A necessary way to measure which doors he had gone into or not, which he came up with after he had ended up getting lost in a near perfect loop of dorm rooms. He was almost impressed with how confusing of a maze this was, with one pathway leading to a dorm which led to a bathroom which led to another dorm which also led to another dorm hallway identical to the first. It had been a confusing way forward, and only after retracing his steps did he realize that it even had been going forward.
Opening the next door, relief flooded him as something new finally revealed itself to him. It was a cafeteria of sorts, with long tables and windows and… well he hadn't seen many cafeterias, but it was probably a cafeteria.
Letting out a sigh, he-
His eyes narrowed on the sudden wisp of frost which had left his lips, which he was only now wondering the logic of. He was wearing a mask, should frost be able to penetrate the cloth like that? He actually couldn't remember if it could or not, and his memory of those cold winter nights back when he was homeless and powerless weren't that great. Now that he thought about it some more, was it even frost he was exhaling? Or was it mist? It actually might be closer to that, just blue like the Spectral Realm's fog was. Huh, he really should- was he forgetting something?
The answer to that question came to him like a hit to the back, as something hit his back and sent him tumbling across the ground. Slamming his claws into the ground, he snarled and pressed his toes against the ground, looking up as he saw what had hit him.
A hunched over mutated soul stood before him, its arms having been replaced by large glowing blue blades. Its body had armor plates sort of bursting from its skin, partially lodged into its flesh. The soul groaned, and two more souls began to pull themselves from the ground.
The first was a spider-like creature, with four bone-thin limbs keeping it steady while another four limbs had some sort of gun melted into them. The second also had guns, though this one had guns bursting from almost part of its body. Its body twitched and shifted, the barrels to its guns beginning to glow.
That was his queue to move.
Raziel threw himself over to the side, dodging several blasts of ectoplasm being launched at where he once stood. The sword soul then rushed to cut him off, forcing him to slide on his knees before twisting his body even more to dodge the spider soul just as it dropped to the ground.
His feet fumbled, tripping him as he rolled out of the way of the swordsman's two arm blades. Seeing the gunner in his line of sight, he lunged forward with his hand outstretched and slashed at the mutated soul, only for his claws to all but bounce off the soul as a brief glow surrounded it.
Aura. The ghosts had fucking Aura.
The guns on the soul blasted him with ectoplasm, sending him crashing into a lunch table. He groaned, blinking a few stars out from his eyes just as some goo was shot onto his chest, a thin line of it connecting to one of the guns on the spider's limbs. The spider pulled, yanking him out of the table and slamming him on the wall before three more blasts of the goo stuck him there.
He pushed against the goo, the backs of his forearms pressed up against the green weirdness as he attempted to free himself with little success. Panic grew within his chest as the mutated souls began to converge onto him, the spider walking along the wall above him with both the swordsman and gunner on his left and right respectively. He pushed and pushed against the goo, hoping for a miracle or whatever the hell it might take for him to get free.
An odd sensation then tingled on the back of his forearms, and he watched with widening eyes as three sharpened rib bones burst from both his arms. They cut through the goo and allowed him enough leverage to tear himself out of the substance just before the spider could reach him. Clenching his fist, he ducked under the swordsman's blades and pivoted on his heel to punch the gunner in the midsection, hoping the impact behind the hit was enough to send it back.
Leaping after the gunner with the intent of trapping it under him, that plan was put to the side as the spider tackled him midair. The two of them rolled across the floor, ending up with Raziel at the bottom and it on top. It screeched in his face, all of its goo blasters being aimed right at his head as it did so.
"Not this time."
His fist knocked the spider's head to the side, disrupting its aim enough for him to shift to the side and dodge the goo. Grabbing onto the floor with his claws, he pulled his legs into his chest before thrusting them forward, kicking the spider off of him.
Pushing himself off the ground and into a backflip (because those were cool), he landed back on his feet before hopping over the swordsman soul as it rushed forward to slice his body in half. Landing on its back, he went to grab at its head only for a shiver to go down his spine and mist to escape his breath. He turned intangible, turning his head to see the gunner shooting several blasts of ectoplasm all at once. The blasts of energy hit his chest, throwing him off of the swordsman in spite of his intangibility.
"Urgh, ectoplasm can hit me even when I'm intangible. Good to know."
Struggling to get back to his feet, Raziel grimaced as he saw all three souls begin to surround him. Individually, he was certain he could beat them. It was the fact he was stuck going against all three of them which made this so frustrating. Every time he got ready to attack one, one of the others would intervene and set him on the defensive again. There was just too much for his brain to handle, he just couldn't keep his focus on all of them.
Or could he?
He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath in as he remembered his ability to sense spirits. It seemed to know when a soul was nearby even if he didn't, and it had even given him a heads up just a moment prior. The only downside is that it only ever activated when he exhaled, something he did out of habit rather than a need. But what if he could activate it for more than just a moment at a time?
His lips pursed together, and he began to whistle.
He ignored the sound of the gunner charging his weapon, ignored the crawling of his skin at the thought of the spider, and ignored the thumping of the ground at his feet as the swordsman sprinted at him. He ignored all of those in favor of the sudden shivers which began to shoot up and down his body, a tensing of his muscles as they almost seemed to whisper what exactly was going on around him.
His eyes shot open as he leapt up into the air, flipping around as his heel slammed into the back of the swordsman's head. Whistling sharply, he deftly avoided all the blasts from the gunner with a more easy grace, ducking and weaving between ectoplasm and goo as he used all his senses at once to keep track of the battlefield.
Perhaps he was always able to do this, to use his spirit sensing power to mentally track the souls around him on a constant level. Or maybe he hadn't, and this was simply his powers once again reacting to his intention and evolving to suit his needs. That seemed to be how it worked, from his shroud growing a hood to cover his face (or sharpened rib bones on his arm to cut through goo), or him developing the ability to sense souls simply because he needed to find Velvet. That just seemed to be how it worked for him, and to be honest, he had never really bothered taking advantage of that.
Well, no time like the present.
Spinning in the air to avoid more ectoplasmic blasts, he slammed his feet into the ground before seeing the mist exiting his lips twist in the air suddenly, bending himself backwards as the swordsman's blade slashed the air above him. Feeling a shiver come from his right side, he raised his arm up and allowed the goo to stick to it. Grabbing the line of goo with both hands, Raziel yanked the lightweight spider off of the ground and spun it around, crashing it into the gunner.
Stepping back as the swordsman swung its arm blades at his wrist, he watched as it cut through the goo line and the remnants of the sticky substance that had been on his arm dissipated. Throwing his fist at its midsection, he began to beat it down the best he could, doing minimal damage but still draining its Aura bit by bit as he weaved through its wild slashes.
He was forced away from the swordsman as the gunner and spider reentered the fight, the former attempting to shoot him in the back while the latter began to climb on the ceiling. His clumsy agility was tested and refined as he dodged each blast, movements getting a little bit cleaner with every blast he managed to move out of the way for.
Four lines of goo shot down from above all around him, the goo tensing as the spider no doubt used them to launch itself to the ground. Bending his knees, he jumped into the air to meet the spider halfway, wrapping his hands around its thin waist and stopping midair. Throwing it to the ground, he rocketed towards the fallen spider's body and began to straight pummel it into the ground. With its body being so frail, he could only hope that its Aura matched and was equally flimsy.
His hopes were true, as not long afterwards he was able to see the glowing barrier shatter before his eyes. Grabbing the spider's head with both hands, his lower mask unraveled to reveal his bared fangs as he opened wide and bit into its neck. Ripping his head back, he tore its throat out and swallowed the empowered soul with little trouble.
Feeling its strength course through him, Raizel whipped his head around and lifted his arm to block a swing from the swordsman, a rectangular shield made of ectoplasm forming between him and it.
Looks like he picked up the shielding trick that spider had. Time to see what else he got.
Dropping the shield, he raised his other hand up and shot a globule of goo at the swordsman, sticking its arms to its sides. Jumping on top of its shoulder and using it to kick off into the air, he shot out a line of the goo at the ceiling and used it to pull himself forward. Using his other hand to goo up a table below, he tugged on the line and sent it flying forward right at the gunner just as it was about to shoot, catching the ectoplasmic blasts in an explosion of wood bits.
Two more lines of goo were shot, each one on either side of the gunner as Raziel tugged on them and slammed his feet into the mutated soul's face area. The floor beneath them cracked as he landed, the gunner staying down as he lifted his arm to deal the finishing blow, only to feel a chill behind him.
Swearing in his mind, he pushed some energy into his arm and used it to block the swordsman's blade, a small shield forming right over his skin as he twisted his arm and caught the blade between the spikes on his arm. Wrenching it to the side and leaving the soul wide open, he threw a few more punches at its midsection before hopping over its head once more and landing on the other side. Turning around and crossing his arms, goo shot from his hands and stuck onto two of the lunch tables. He then quickly uncrossed his arms, yanking both tables into the swordsman.
The crashed into it, stunning the soul long enough for him to jump onto its back and begin hammering his fists down onto the top of its head. Its frustratingly large Aura took the hits well, flashing each and every time his fists impacted the soul's head. It refused to break before the swordsman regained its footing, throwing him off and charging at him once more with a berserker rage.
Throwing his hands forward, a flat shield made of ectoplasm caught the swordsman's charge, and a quick tilt of the shield had the soul's momentum roughly pushed to the side. With it once again being left wide open, he pumped his leg full of energy and slammed his foot into the soul's knee.
The swordsman fell to its injured knee, and Raziel wasted no time in flattening his hand and filling it with even more energy than he did his leg. Aiming at the mutated soul's head, he thrust his hand forward in the hopes that the sudden and focused pierce attack would be enough to punch through its Aura.
It was.
His hand burst through the swordsman's skull, twisting as he ripped it out and opened his mouth wide to absorb the soul as it disintegrated. His mask tightening back into place once more, he resisted the urge to sigh as the swordsman's power rushed through him. Instead, he maintained his whistle as a very light shiver alerted him to the injured but still standing gunner with its guns glowing hot.
Because of course they were.
Tapping into the power the swordsman had given, Raziel felt the sharpened ribs on his forearms twitch before inverting their direction, going from pointing to his elbow to pointing towards his wrist. Energy crackled between them, before a blade of pure ectoplasm formed between them on both forearms. The scythe-shaped blade was long, going past his fingers with the length of a whole forearm. Despite their size, they had no weight at all, probably because they were made of energy.
The volley of ectoplasmic blasts had been shot his way, though rather than block or dodge them, he instead chose to slash at them with his new forearm blades. They cut the blasts apart, absorbing the energy into them as he stomped forward with growing satisfaction. Something which turned borderline malevolent as the volley ended, and the gunner was forced to recharge. Not that he would let it.
Rushing forward with all the speed he could muster, he thrust both arms forward and grinned ferally as his blades pierced the gunner's chest with little in the way of resistance. Pressing his foot against the gunner's midsection, he kicked the mutated soul off of his blades and onto the floor before stomping on its chest hard enough to cave it in and crushing whatever it had for a heart.
Feeling its soul slip past his lips, Raziel gave his arm blades a look. "Imma call you two my… Soul Reavers. Or just Reavers, whatever's easier in the moment."
Dismissing his blades and eyeing his forearms as the spikes that now adorned them returned into their default position, he finally allowed himself to stop whistling as he took a moment to collect himself before slowly walking over to the other door within the cafeteria. He rested his hand on the handle, eager to see what lay on the other side as he threw it open.
And then promptly frowned.
"Another fucking storage closet!"
This really was going to take forever.
… … …
Before any of you fucks say anything, yes I know I spelled it "beowulves" instead of "beowolves". I thought it was more fitting considering the name is inspired by Beowulf, which actually refers to a bear in its meaning. So, if you really wanna ride my ass about this change, consider the fact that CRWBY got its meaning wrong first. Suck it.
For those confused at all about Spectral Realm nonsense, that's a wee bit the point. I wanna make it feel alien and somewhat confusing, mostly to keep it with an air of "What the fuck" or "How the fuck" or even "Why the fuck". Lots of fucks. I'll wrap up the whole "Ascend the Spectral Clocktower" thing next chapter, because I hate dragging things out and I'm sure you all wanna get back to the recognizable RWBY part of this fic. I just kind of need to use the Spectral Realm a fair amount considering, well, Death and all.
I feel like I had something to say regarding Velvet and her personality, though I can't quite put my finger on it. Maybe it'll come to me at some point. Hope y'all like her as is. Oh way, shit, just remembered it. Was gonna say something about how I wanted to have the characters outside of the MC actually doing shit on their own for their own reasons, which is also one of the reasons I have the Spectral Realm as well. Otherwise, he'd just sort of body the entire plot outside of the Death stuff and that'd be boring. Or something. I dunno, I probably had a better speech in my head earlier when I was writing the Velvet bit.
This has been A Decent Hoonter, and I keep rereading "Not This Time Fate", which might be an addiction problem or something.