Author's Notes:
-Hey guys and gals! Hope you're all enjoying your day. Once again, we have another list of huntsmen and huntresses that are all from Roosterteeth. (Save for Brick Bond and Sterling Aurelio.) Ayress Umbra is also from Roosterteeth.
-Damn, 61 chapters and counting. This certainly breaks the previous record of 60 from Mystery of Madness. Why is it that the more mature my fanfic rating is, the longer it lasts? I'm beginning to wonder if I should have divided this story into acts like Cosmic Fiction did with the Eclipse saga. (By the way, if you haven't read it, I highly recommend it. I finished the first act and am working on the second one as we speak.) [Also a little late to divide the story now...]
Oh well. On with the show!
The next day, the sound of Weiss's voice was heard as she continued to practice for the recital. Willow Schnee walked through the halls, her white hair loose and gently swaying as she saw a pale skinned woman enter the mansion. She put her back to the wall as the woman came into view. The woman had black eyes and waist length black hair with a single white streak on her right side tucked behind her ear. She wore a dress with a white modest v-neck top with a long black skirt along with a white belt around her waist where the black skirt started. She completed the outfit with black heels, small diamond earrings and a sliver and silver-sapphire necklace.
Willow observed the scene from afar as the woman went forth to the staircase. Jacques Schnee stood at the top of the stairs, waiting as the woman walked forth to him. "Bianca Delaney, I'm so glad you make it."
Mrs. Delaney smiled. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." She stopped at the head of the stairs, her eyes meeting his. "Do you know how many people would kill to have this opportunity? To perform for you?"
"Quite a lot." He smiled. "But that's because they know I pay well."
"I'm not even in this for the money." she reminded him. "I'm here because I like to perform." She put her left hand to her chest. "Also, it's for a good cause. How could I possibly refuse?"
"Still being the saint I see."
She let her arm down and chuckled slightly. "Oh, I'm no saint, but I would like to believe that I'm closer to being a saint than a sinner. Now then, can we get down to business? I have a few songs to learn."
"Certainly. Right this way."
The two went up the stairs to the right and Willow turned away, sadly lamenting the situation at hand.
He didn't have to hire her. If he really wanted to, he could have chosen me. Did he forget that I played piano when I grew up? Or is it just he just wants to silence me? She internally sighed. I never should have trusted him...
Sometime later, in the printing press room, programs for the upcoming concert were being printed out to eventually be distributed. Seeing that the room was empty, Whitley entered and looked at the programs the machine was printing out. He took one and made his way back towards his room. Once he got back to his room, he closed the door and looked over the program.
The front page read;
The Grand Chateau Concert Hall
presents the Schnee Dust Company Charity Concert
February 5th, 80 AGW
19:00
Opera Hall
The second page read;
Weiss Schnee, vocal and piano
Featuring;
Bianca Delaney, piano
Atlas Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Liam Elmore
He skipped to the fifth page, which read;
The Royal Test
The Path to Isolation
(Weiss Schnee- Vocal, feat. pianist Bianca Delaney and Atlas Symphony Orchestra)
Mirror Mirror
Part I-Who's the Loneliest of All?
Part II-Can I Stop My Fall?
(Weiss Schnee- Vocal and Piano)
20 minute intermission
It's My Turn
(Weiss Schnee- Vocal and Piano, feat. Atlas Symphony Orchestra)
This Life is Mine
(Weiss Schnee- Vocal, feat. pianist Bianca Delaney and Atlas Symphony Orchestra)
Reception and art auction afterwards to follow
He smiled to himself and set the program aside.
Everything's in place. Time to see how progress is going.
The youngest Schnee looked to his scroll and clicked at the name on top of his list of messages; Iris. He reread the first and so far only text message from her, sent to him on the same day he recruited her only an hour after their first meeting.
Hello Mr. Schnee, or should I call you Whitley? Anyway, I found a canvas to use and have started work on the painting. I decided to start on the background right away while I find the other colors for my painting. I've chosen a bright green background for the painting. I'm currently on route to the nearest arts and crafts store for paint while I wait for the background to dry. Hope you're doing well. By the way, where should I bring my work once it's finished?
Whitley began typing out his response.
You can call me Whitley, so as to not confuse me with my father. Glad to hear you've started the painting. I see you took my suggestion for the background. Once you're done with the painting, bring it to the Schnee Manor. The address is 5323 Blizzard Boulevard. It's also on the post-it note I wrote my contact information on.
He hit the send button and put his scroll away.
Meanwhile, in Vale, the spirit of Ozpin stood in the midst of the courtyard of what was once Beacon Academy. Grimm roamed the area, but despite his grief, they couldn't see him, for no soulless creature could see a spirit. He was thankful that they couldn't see him, but even if they could, they wouldn't have been able to hurt him either way.
There have been few cases where I have died in a horrible way at a horrible time. This is the worst death in a long time. One of the worst, if not, the absolute worst way and time to die. the previous headmaster of Beacon thought to himself.
As he made his way towards the statue that had been destroyed, the voices of his predecessors could be heard.
You think you died a painful death? Try being eaten by a Grimm. one of them said.
Eaten by a Grimm? P-lease. That's nowhere near as bad compared to being flash-incinerated. I mean, with Ozpin's death, it's happened precisely four times now. Also, you died trying to protect people from her. another voice added.
But how will we protect people if Ozpin's successor is never found? an inquiring voice asked.
Guys, please, stop. Ozpin told them.
He looked at the statue in front of him. The huntsman and huntress had crumbled to pieces, and so did the Beowolf and the rock the duo stood upon.
If only there was something I could do... But as a spirit, I'm powerless to help out my living friends and allies at Beacon... or stop Salem. Most humanoid creatures can't even see me. He sighed. I know this commonly takes time, but I just wish the universe would hurry up with the succession already.
Stop your complaining. a fourth voice said to him. I had to wait for two years- two years and three months to be precise- for my successor.
You're making it sound like that's a bad thing. another voice, the other's successor, added.
Why don't you just leave this place? a drunken voice asked. There's nothing here for us anyway.
Because he'd be wondering among aimlessly, which wouldn't do anyone any good. the voice of a hermit answered.
Guys, stop it. All of you. Ozpin commanded.
The dead headmaster remembered what happened when one of his predecessors died. Within a certain amount of time, a vision would come to them, telling them where they needed to go in order to find their successor. Several predecessors had commonly waited in the area where they were when they died. Some attended their own funeral. Some watched as their bodies were laid in caskets, the undertaker prepare the dead man for a memorial service, and even be buried or cremated. A small few, like Ozpin, were completely obliterated when they were killed and had no corpse to show.
Everything fell apart. My plan may have failed, but maybe I can still get the world back on track. I'll take anyone at this point. Please... give me a sign.
His prayers were answered thereafter. A vision came to him; a large flat plain with mountains in the distance was seen. There were three buildings, the largest building being a barn, although there were at least two other buildings. A water pump was seen not too far from the main barn. A dirt road laid in front of the farmland, with a fence that was in need of repair. The driveway met the road at a junction with another road, creating a crossroads.
A farmhand... Ozpin thought to himself. I've been reincarnated as a lot of things, but a farmhand has never been one of them. Blacksmith, doctor, hero, soldier, on rare occasions, royalty even. But a farmhand? Huh. Who would have guessed?
A farmhand. Great. Probably an old geezer who can't help us. the drunkard's voice added.
Like that would be new. the inquisitor quipped.
Shut up! the drunkard retaliated.
Guys, stop it! All of you! We need to focus!
As the camera showed motions of walking, as if Ozpin himself was actually there, the view continued to show a ladder leading to a room located at the very top of the barn. The camera zoomed in and the door opened, revealing a room with a sloped ceiling, a large window with a bookcase underneath, a bed with white sheets and a red blanket with a diagonal pattern with corn stalks at each corner of the square, a large storage chest and a large circular rug on the ground. The room was lit by an oil lamp.
Sitting on the bed with a book in his hand, was a young teenage boy of thirteen years with tanned skin, a faint, perpetual blush and freckles on his cheeks. His hair was dark brown and his eyes were hazel, the main iris being forest green, with accents of burnt orange and yellow around the pupils. He wore a dirty and scuffed white shirt that laced across the chest with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a pocket on the left tricep. Orange suspenders held up his olive pants, which were tucked into worn, brown boots. The pants were patched over the knee, and a quilted cloth hung loosely out of his left pocket. He wore orange gloves, with green straps overlapping across the back of the hand in an X shape, and around the wrist. His neck was wrapped with a torn bandage, but he was not injured. This boy was Oscar Pine. Oscar put the book down, turned to face the camera and exited the room, ending the vision.
He's only thirteen years old? the inquisitor asked.
So we have a farmhand and a child. the hermit concluded. He has no combat training, no skills that can help us...
Gods help us. We're doomed. the drunkard said.
I will admit, I don't necessarily like this and I honestly don't understand why he's my successor. But he's our one last hope, so he'll have to do. Now, to make my way to him.
The specter of Ozpin faded away until there was nothing there but Grimm.
As the weeks went on, a montage of various people began.
Athena and Ares were shown standing in an undisclosed location in Mistral, with an army of twenty one messengers ready, Negra among them. As the messengers bowed, Negra also bowed in reverence to her lady, and looked up with a proud smile. Athena smirked and Ares did as well.
On that same day, Sun was shown with his brown cloak hood-down, holding a sack in his right hand as he returned to the cargo hold. He sat next to Blake who was reading. She closed the book and set it aside as he got out his findings; fresh fruit, including bananas, vegetables, bread, and cooked meats in plastic wrapped bowls. While most of the bowls were white, one was blue. He handed a blue one to Blake and she smiled upon seeing the pan-seared tuna in the bowl. She removed the plastic wrap and began eating it with her fingers.
The scene switched to Bianca Delaney in the piano rehearsal room with Weiss. The pianist was playing the piano part to the first song in Weiss's concert repertoire. As she sang, Bianca smiled politely as her fingers hit the keys, and as the piano sound continued, Qrow was shown in his bird form, flying over Fiti and heading out to fly over the sea. As the camera zoomed in on his wing, it glided over the screen as the scene switched to Maura standing in curiosity as she watched Sienna write.
The days 1-13 were crossed out on a calendar on the wall. Emily was shown standing around as Taiyang measured his daughter's left arm. Yang held her head in sorrow as the huntress watched on sadly, unsure what to say.
On that same day, Iris was shown painting her masterpiece with a red tipped paintbrush, her eyes grey as she pulled her hand back and contemplated her next brush stroke. As she moved down to the lower part of the painting, painting part of it red, she smiled and her eyes turned yellow.
The date was shown as January 16th, and Watts stood in the train station of Argus with a list of huntsmen and huntresses who lived here. Like the list in Mistral, this one also had notes in parentheses attached to many of the names.
Altham, Ivy
Aurelio, Sterling (Comatose as of September 13th (due to the Storming of Sanctum), contact Salem for further instruction)
Bashir, Maza (member of team CUBB (Cubeb), hunting down Maura Celandine with teammates)
Bond, Brick (moved to Vale)
Castillo, Aurora (Inactive for two years)
Fiorenza, Shani
Hawthorne, Lucero (Already dead)
Hughes, Daisy (hunting down Maura Celandine)
Lucero, Flann (hunting down Maura)
Raine, Boyd (Already dead, was hunting down Maura)
Rivera, Star
Watts mused to himself. Hmm. Five targets known to be in the city. Six, counting Aurelio. Hmm. Let's go to the top of the list. Ivy Altham, you may not know it, but today is your last day.
The scene switched to him standing in an apartment dueling a huntress with green and blue hair, pale skin and two different colored eyes; her left eye was blue and her right eye was forest green. She wore an ocean blue tube top with long ivy green jeans and sea green pumps. She held a metal whip with small blade on the tip and a green handle in her right hand.
As she swung her whip at him, Watts swiftly dodged every rapid move she made, each swing. As she swung towards the window, glass broke into shards and flew towards the scientist. He ducked down on his knees and leaned back to avoid glass hit his face. Quickly getting up, he sprung himself up onto the couch. From there, he dodged Ivy's whip and then grabbed it at the edge before the blade. With his left hand, he embedded the blade so deep into the piece of furniture that she couldn't easily get it out, no matter how hard she tried. With the right, he got out the overpowered taser and used the whip to conduct the electricity straight to her. She didn't realize what was happened until it was too late. Like all his other victims, Ivy was shocked and killed from the high voltage. She dropped to the ground, letting go of her whip.
He crossed out Ivy Altham. He was later shown crossing out Shani Fiorenza before pocketing the list and running away with a smirk on his face.
This is too easy. Watts thought to himself.
As the montage continued, a group of four women walked through the forest.
The first one was a woman with pale skin, chocolate brown eyes and long brown hair that flowed to her waist. She wore a green shirt with sleeves folded to the elbow, the inner parts being white along with a light pink knee length skirt with blue flowers on it. She wore a red threaded bracelet with a silver flower charm on it on her right wrist paired with purple pumps. This was Carmina Griffin, the leader of team CUBB (Cubeb).
The second member was a woman with very pale skin, black makeup around her purple eyes and black lipstick. She had her long black hair in a ponytail held back by purple scrunchie. She wore a black strapless dress that reached to her knees, with a visible bat tattoo above her chest. On her hands she wore red elbow length gloves and on the right wrist was a silver cuff bracelet with black diamond spheres on each end. She wore fishnet stockings and knee high black boots to complete the look. This was Ayress Umbra, a huntress from Wind Path.
The third one had the same skin, eye and hair color as the first woman, but her hair was short and layered. She wore a white v-neck with a line of small silver hearts circling at her waist. She wore white yoga pants and white high tops with black laces. Her name was Blanka Griffin, the younger identical twin sister of Carmina.
The last one was a woman with tanned skin and brown eyes. Although it was hard to see under her green hijab, she had long brown hair. She wore a long white shirt with runic designs in yellow font on the sleeves under a set of bronze chainmail. She wore beige pants with a royal purple belt paired with forest green slip-ons. This was Maza Bashir, a huntress from Argus.
As team CUBB moved forward, Hazel was shown fighting a pale skinned huntress with white hair in a shoulder-length ponytail with her back to the camera. As she was punched in the face, her outfit was seen; a white maxi dress with white tights and green stilettos. Ducking to avoid Hazel's next move, her green eyes reflected her determination to defeat her opponent as retrieved and held her wind-dust claymore in her hands.
"Your days are over!" the huntress proclaimed.
She struck the sword directly at him, and he lifted up his hand to stop it from slicing his head open. The huntress looked in surprise as he felt no pain. "On the contrary, it is actually your days that are over."
Taking his other hand and putting it on the blade painlessly, he yanked the claymore out of her hands and tossed it aside, much to her shock and terror. She tried to run, but the strongman grabbed her by the neck and began to suffocate her with his hands. Her eyes widened in fear as she suffered from asphyxiation. She soon ran of air and was tossed aside. Another huntress defeated. Hazel got out the list and crossed out Lali Choi.
The scene transitioned to Cinder reading her book before a knock on the door was heard. She quickly put the book under her pillow as Salem entered the room.
"Are you ready to resume?"
Cinder grimly nodded in the affirmative and went along with her mistress. As she walked down the corridor, Emerald and Mercury observed from afar, the former of which looked extremely concerned.
The montage ended with Whitley back in his room, writing something down on a piece of paper. He paused for a moment, thinking to himself, January 21st. Two weeks until the deadline. Likely to be several paintings. As Whitley made note of this in his bedroom, he sighed and put the paper in his desk. I really wish that I, I mean she, had a bigger window of time to work with. Two weeks, fourteen days, a fortnight. Half of her time has expired. This is crazy! What if she fails? He breathed to calm himself. She won't. She'll come through. She's my one last hope, so she'll have to do.