7: Where Is The Line

Flopping into the copilot's seat, Ruby closed her eyes and let herself sag. While she always felt ready to fight Grimm, the reality was that the day had been an exhausting mix of constant battle and heavy labor. Even her enthusiasm was having a hard time keeping up. Every part of her felt sore and she really hoped Torchwick wasn't going to ask her to move for the next 24 hours.

She thought of what her team would say if they could see her now. Torchwick's observations hadn't been completely off the mark - Team RNJR never really saw her fight this hard or this much. That had been her decision when she replaced Pyrrha as their lead fighter. It was part of the reason she always tried to travel ahead of them during emergency missions - she could fight the Grimm unfettered, free of their worries over their youngest teammate.

Of course, there was also Jaune's tendency to mother her, but as she rolled her shoulders and muffled a pained groan, imagining his displeasure actually made her feel a little guilty.

"Stop trying so hard. Please."

"Ok, Jaune," she breathed, releasing her Semblance. The sudden explosion of rose petals took Torchwick by surprise, and the airship fell into a brief but stomach-churning dip.

"What the hell was that?" he yelled after stabilizing their flight. "Warn a guy before you start farting flowers at him!"

Cracking an eye open, she rolled her head to give him the best glare she could muster. "That wasn't a fart. Besides, they're roses! How can you complain about roses? They smell great!"

"No wonder you're so full of righteous indignation. You actually believe your shit doesn't stink."

This crass bastard... Unpleasantly reminded of their verbal spar over the Faunus, she straightened up and scrutinized him. "So, Torchwick the Huntsman… how did that happen?"

He stiffened. "I'm not a damn Huntsman, so enough with the cute nicknames." Then he shuddered. "Ugh, I think I need a bath now."

"You've needed a bath since we met on the tower," she observed, wrinkling her nose. "Somebody must have activated your aura, but I don't get it. The academies would never let someone as rotten as you through, so what gives?"

This caused him to bark out a harsh peal of laughter. "Is that what you think? Oh, carry on then. I'd just hate to be the one to ruin your illusions."

Ruby wilted. "I'm too tired for another fight right now. Why can't you just tell me? How'd you get a Semblance? Why do you hate Huntsmen and Faunus so much? Is it really so hard to say?"

Torchwick fell silent. Apparently he hadn't been expecting her honesty, and he seemed almost… confused. Then he looked away, staring through the windshield so intently that Ruby glanced through it herself to make sure they weren't about to fly into some sort of obstacle.

The sun had nearly disappeared below the horizon; there was nothing to see but a giant stretch of purple-blue ocean and endless clouds overhead, lit in the fiery hues of daylight's last gasp. "Umm…" she said, returning her attention to Torchwick, who was still ignoring her.

"... Atlas Academy," he finally said. "That's where I was."

Her jaw dropped. "Atlas? The strictest academy in the world? Headmaster Ironwood's Atlas?!"

He smirked at her disbelief. "The one and only."

"But then why wasn't that in your file? Everything else was…"

Torchwick snorted. "Atlas likes to cover up its mistakes. Besides, I never graduated. I managed to get expelled before then."

Ruby tried to picture a younger Torchwick in one of Atlas' military uniforms, standing at attention. Whoa, unpossible. No matter how she tried, she couldn't wipe the smirk off of his imaginary face. "How'd you get noticed by them? Were you scouted? Kinda like how chasing you down that first time got me into Vale?"

He looked at her flatly. "Not even close. Atlas doesn't recruit students, they draft them."

"Huh? You can't conscript children into academies," she said, frowning. "It has to be a choice. Besides, Weiss would have mentioned something if that was happening."

"As if your sheltered little Schnee princess would know anything about the real world," he scoffed. "There's one rule everybody in Atlas lives by: no money, no options."

Ruby sat up. "What do you mean?"

Torchwick grimaced. "You're so- augh!" He ran an agitated hand through his bangs, then growled. "Fine. Let me spell it out for you, kiddo. Atlas rests on two pillars: Dust and the military. For both of those things to come rolling in to the city of dreams, you need people desperate enough to provide them. The mutts take care of the Dust, and the humans take care of the army. Use your brain for once and figure it out."

She did think about it. Everybody knew Atlas gave students the choice to pay back their tuition fees in years of military service rather than money. The school could provide students with a uniform, a place to live, and three square meals a day - maybe it was better than a lot of people had. All in all, it didn't seem as terrible as Torchwick was making it out to be. "Doesn't that just mean they're offering people a way out of poverty? What's so bad about that?"

"Offer? You say that like it's a choice. 'Join the military or starve' isn't a choice, not a real one anyway." He shrugged. "I don't expect someone like you to get it. You actually enjoy toeing the line."

Ruby frowned, feeling a need to defend the academies from Torchwick's dismissive scorn. "But they gave you a chance, right? Didn't you enjoy studying there?"

"Enjoy? Hah! I'd like to shoot whoever came up with the team names in the face." His gaze slid over to her. "Besides, I'm no good at any of those bullshit Huntsmen stunts you idiots like to pull."

"Mmm," she agreed. "You do kind of suck at fighting."

He twitched. "Hey, I'm not that bad!"

"... in a team," she finished for him. "You're not very good one-on-one, though."

"What can I say? I'm a lover, not a fighter."

"Eww… Thanks for the unnecessary mental image." Ruby made a face, and Torchwick laughed at her. It was a cleaner sound, as though her candid reaction had diffused some of his tense anger. She watched his face slacken, his entire posture loosening ever so slightly.

"They wanted to keep me anyway, take me off the front lines and turn me into one of their nancy flyboys." He made a noise of disgust. "There's a difference between being good at something and liking it. That's why most mercenaries are Atlas's dropouts."

"Still, if they hadn't given you the chance to pilot, we wouldn't be here right now," she pointed out.

"And what a shame that would be," he deadpanned. "Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed learning how to shoot things. It was the on command part I had trouble with. I gotta hand it to them, though - they did teach me a few marketable skills." His chortled.

Ruby gave up on trying to convince him of Atlas's good intentions; it was like talking to a wall. To be fair, she'd never visited Atlas before and she wondered how much of Torchwick's truth reflected reality.

It can't be all that bad if Weiss grew up there, a part of her argued.

Weiss spent all of her time trying to run away, though, another part reluctantly noted.

She tugged on the end of her hair, growing annoyed at the seed of doubt Torchwick had planted. Forcibly pushing it aside, she focused on the larger problem at hand. "Fine, so you dropped out of Atlas to become their biggest embarrassment to date. I don't get what that has to do with hating the Faunus though! What'd they ever do to you?"

Torchwick stiffened up again, the atmosphere between them chilling. "You're still going on about that? And here we were doing so well." He groaned. "Listen. Faunus are nothing more than stupid, lying, dirty animals. Everybody in Atlas knows that. I'm not alone in my opinion here! You're the weird one."

Ruby fell silent, studying him as she tried to grapple with the problem. How do you even talk to someone whose idea of reality is so different from your own?

"What?" he said, glaring at her. "Stop staring at me like that."

She frowned. "Like what?"

"Like you're judging me!" he snapped.

She tilted her head. "Why? Am I making you uncomfortable?"

He grimaced. "Don't ask dumb questions, kid."

Hmm. "I don't think it's a stupid question," she countered. "Why does me staring bother you so much? So what if I'm judging you? It's the same thing you do to every Faunus you meet."

She thought of how he'd mocked her for her empathy with the Faunus, as if it wasn't genuine. "I know I've been lucky… I had a family that cared about me and was well-off enough to send both me and my sister to Vale. I don't know what it's like to struggle every day just to survive." She dropped her chin into her palm, her weariness returning as she tried to understand Torchwick - with no success. "But you do. So you know what it's like for them, too. Are you judging them for not being able to get away the way you did?" The headache nestling at the back of her skull grew more intense, making it hard to concentrate. "Did you ever really get away in the first place?" she mumbled, struggling to keep her eyes open.

He might seem normal sometimes, but I can't trust this guy. Don't fall asleep!

She waited for his reply, but Torchwick didn't answer her, so she doggedly kept going.

"You said you hated everything about your school. But you also said everyone in Atlas thinks about the Faunus the same way you do. How does that even work? They were wrong about everything except that? Is that really the only thing you managed to learn?"

"That's not-" His explosive sigh jolted her awake. "Listen, I get it. You don't like it when I insult the Faunus. Since you took care of things in River Dell, I'll make an effort. But ease up on that guilt trip! You're bothering me."

Wow. Ruby blinked. Torchwick was being unusually forthcoming; she rifled through their one-sided conversation, trying to remember what she'd said that set him off. "Uh, yeah. Okay?"

Her confusion must have been apparent, because he looked even more annoyed than before. "I'll stop calling them mutts, so you stop looking at me like I'm not human! Happy now?"

"Not really," she said honestly. "Just because you're not saying it doesn't mean you're not thinking it. But… thanks… I guess? Oh, and don't call Blake a bitch anymore, either."

He grunted. It wasn't a pleasant sound, but she took it as his version of assent. Good enough for now, she decided; she was much too tired to continue talking to herself in Torchwick's direction. Shifting around in her chair to find a comfortable position, she pushed him out of her mind and crossed her arms, settling down to rest.

Torchwick cleared his throat. Ruby drew her brows together and kept her eyes shut. So ready for a nap right about now-

"Hey, kid."

"..."

"Kid?"

She smacked her lips.

"Little Red!"

Her eyes flew open. "What?! And my name's not Red!"

Torchwick didn't seem phased. "Well what is it then?"

Ruby stared at him, incredulous. "You interrupted my nap because you were too lazy to find out what my name was after three years?"

He shrugged. "It never came up."

"Oh. My. God." She slouched back into her seat, seething. "Ruby! Ruby Rose! My name is Ruby Rose!" She closed her eyes and tried to take a few deep, relaxing breaths.

"Quaint," he said, and she whimpered.

"So, Miss Ruby Rose, I've been meaning to ask you this..."

"Can it wait?"

"Not where we're going, it can't."

She sat up again. "Maybe I should've let the Grimm get you after all," she muttered under her breath.

Torchwick ignored her. "How'd you do that thing with the dragon? Back in Beacon?"

Some of her ire ebbed away; so maybe it was a valid question after all. "I don't know," she admitted, a little embarrassed. "I guess you could say I just got… really emotional, and then it's all a big blur. I don't remember much. Everybody told me it had something to do with my eyes."

"You don't remember? Silver shockwave, Grimm popping like soap bubbles? Would be a little useful in the near future if you could jog that memory somehow."

"It's not a weapon I can pull out like my scythe," she said. "I wish I knew how to use it as much as you do. But as far as I know, someone I care about has to die first, so I'm not planning on testing it out anytime soon."

Torchwick looked thoughtful. "Shame, that."

Ruby's eyes narrowed. "If you're thinking about kidnapping one of my friends and killing them, I'm sure I'll be able to remember how to use it on you."

He put his hands up in a gesture of innocence. "Who, me?"

She huffed loudly and readjusted her position in the seat. A silence - companionable for once - reigned between them, and her eyes drifted shut again.

"By the way..."

She turned towards him, bleary. "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Maybe." Then he looked at her. "But seriously. How'd you grow up so fast? Did they feed you some growth hormones at the academy? Three years ago you were just a pipsqueak. A pipsqueak with a big fucking scythe, but still a pipsqueak. What happened?"

She shrank back into her seat a little, Jaune's admonishments ringing clearly through her head. "Dunno. I guess I grew up fast," she mumbled. It wasn't really a lie.

.x.x.x.

"-ed. Hey, Red."

The voice buzzed at the edge of her consciousness, drawing her out of sleep. She made an unintelligible noise and tried to curl in on herself, floating back into the comfortable darkness.

"Damn it, kid. Rose? C'mon, wake up, Rose. Ruby!"

"... Torchwick?" Hearing him say her name was strange enough to rouse her completely. She sat up, rubbing the sand out of her eyes. "What is it?"

"We're here," he told her, his voice odd. It took her a moment to realize it was missing its usual arrogant undertones.

As she leaned forward to look through the windshield, she soon saw why. Exsul loomed beneath them. A myriad of black specks that she knew were Grimm circled through the sky around a weathered mountain in the distance. Torchwick was flying low, sticking close to the treetops to lower the Bullhead's profile while aiming for said mountain. They must have made landfall quite some time ago, because she couldn't see any traces of the ocean; instead, a dense, dark forest stretched out in every direction.

For the first time, Ruby felt the full weight of the mission she'd taken upon herself. I'm here on the Grimm continent… stranded, with only Torchwick as my backup. She swallowed. Here, of all places, she couldn't afford to lose her nerve - the Grimm would actually notice. She straightened, resting the flats of her hands on her abdomen, and focused her breathing. "Don't dodge it. Go through it," she exhaled.

"Have you lost your damn mind?"

Her eyes flew open. "Huh?"

"If you wanted me to cut through them, we'd need a warship!" he seethed, looking pale and… generally unwell, compared to his usual self.

"Oh! No, I was thinking out loud. Uhh, please don't fly us through that flock of death up ahead," she added quickly.

"Talking to yourself?" He glanced at her. "Do I have to worry?"

"I was meditating," she snapped, suppressing her rising temper. "Being here is making me a little edgy, okay?" She considered Torchwick for a moment; it seemed like he was feeling a little edgy himself.

Maybe I can help.

"Listen, this is something my uncle taught me. You can't win against Grimm when you let fear steal your strength." She closed her eyes and readjusted her position, this time enunciating clearly. "Focus yourself. Take deep breaths. What's out there, it's scary. And it's coming, whether we want it or not." She inhaled deeply. "Don't run away. Face your fear. It's a prison, and the freedom to win is on the other side." Another deep breath. "You need to find your key."

Why am I here? She thought of Penny's eager smile. Pyrrha, drifting away like cinders on the wind. Jaune, sitting alone with his head buried in his hands. Glynda's face, tight with a look of hopeless determination. The dark smudges under Weiss' eyes as she whispered through her scroll. The yawning gap where Blake used to be, and Yang's distant stare as she lay unmoving in her bed.

I can't stand back and watch it pass me by. I need to do something. And fighting is what I do best.

"My heart is stronger than that fear," she said, grasping her key and unlocking her door. She opened her eyes, feeling calmer and settled. "I'm ready now." She looked at Torchwick. "What about you?"

He looked grave; she wondered, once again, if her words had any effect. Do they ever?

"What is it with you and all this talk about keys and prisons?" he muttered. He didn't seem upset, though, and some of his waxy pallor had faded. With some of the tension gone from his expression, she realized how plain tired he looked.

"Hey, maybe you should set us down somewhere? You look like you could use a rest."

His brief smile was mirthless. "As if I could sleep here," he muttered. But he did slow the ship down, scanning the ground for a break in the tree line.

They set down in a small glade shadowed by the mountain; Torchwick powered down the ship and an eerie silence rose. Dense as the forest around them was, Ruby couldn't hear any sign of life outside, besides the quiet rustling of tree leaves.

"Why aren't they attacking us?" she stage-whispered.

"Don't jinx it," he hissed, unbuckling his belt and standing. "At least not until I refuel the ship."

"Don't you want to rest first?" she asked, getting up and stretching out her sore limbs.

"Being tired won't be an issue if you can't make a fast getaway," he told her, opening the hatch. "Here's a life lesson for you, kid: Always plan your escape first. The real victory is living to see another day."

"Well, that is your specialty," she admitted, following him through the ship. "Can I help?"

He nodded towards one of the crates of Dust, and she groaned, sorry that she'd asked.

"Complain about it when you're dead," he said, obviously in no mood to joke. "And keep an eye out for Grimm."

Roughly half an hour later, Torchwick finished tending to the ship. He'd let Ruby go as soon as he didn't need her arms, and she took it upon herself to defend their position. From nothing more threatening than a few lone Lepus, it seemed; for being the Grimm continent, there was a surprising lack of Grimm in their immediate vicinity. She made a final sweep of the glade's perimeter, returning to the Bullhead as Torchwick cleaned up. "All done?"

He nodded, trudging into the ship's hold before flopping onto the floor, clearly exhausted. She followed him in. "Just keep the hatch open while you sleep," she told him. "It'll be easier for me if I need to fight."

Torchwick looked at her with a sneer. "I told you, I can't sleep here." He turned away from her. "Too many Grimm."

"Try anyway," she said sternly. "You're useless like this when you're a walking zombie."

He grunted, but put one arm behind his head and tilted his bowler hat over his eyes. "Wake me up before sunset."

Ruby crossed her arms and smirked. So much for putting up a fight. She tilted her head, listening, then grinned. He was already snoring. Tiptoeing to the edge of the ship, she looked up at the sky.

"Sunset? How am I supposed to know when that is?" Dark clouds boiled overhead, completely obscuring the sun. They weren't heavy with rain; rather, they seemed like an unnatural, dense fog blanketing the entire continent in shadow and skewing her sense of time. Was it early morning? Late afternoon? Without her scroll, she couldn't tell.

Seating herself on the edge of the hatch, she planted her chin into her palm and stared into the quiet forest. It would almost be a relief if some Grimm appeared; it was unsettling to be somewhere so green and yet so devoid of any presence of animal life.

The minutes ticked by slowly. Lost, without a sense of time, she grew bored. Checking over her shoulder, she saw Torchwick fast asleep, dead to the world. His stolen gun lay abandoned next to him, alongside his cane.

Hmm.

Her eyes traveled between the rifle, the cane, and the remaining crates still stacked in the back of the ship, an idea blossoming. "I'm sure he won't mind," she told herself as she crept in. After securing both of his weapons, she slunk over to the crates. "Well, okay, he probably will mind, but I'm sure I won't care," she added, digging through them until she found what she needed. She settled back at the entrance to the hatch and spread the equipment around her, grinning.

Tinkering always was the best cure for boredom. "Hello, my babies," she told the weapons. "I'm Ruby. It's nice to meet you. Want to get to know each other a little better?" With a smile, she reached for the cane.

.x.x.x.

"Nnng…"

Ruby looked up at the loud moan.

"Hnn… stop… 'way from me… rrgh…"

Torchwick's hat fell away as he jerked his head from side to side. His fingers spasmed, then his legs kicked briefly.

Must be a really bad dream, she thought. She wondered if she should wake him, considering his reaction the last time.

"Hmph. Comparing my face to his nightmares? As if."

Still, when he let out another tortured groan, her conscience got the better of her. This time, however, she stood further away from him and nudged his calf with her toe. "Wake up!"

He flew forward, grabbing his hat as though it were a weapon and looking around with wild eyes. When the veil of sleep fell away completely, he coughed and planted the bowler back on his head, straightening it with an air of dignity.

"Thanks," he grumbled, not meeting her eye - until he saw what she was holding. "... What did you do to my rifle?" He took another look, then did a double-take. "No wait, what did you do to my cane?"

"Well, I was bored, so-"

"You were bored?" he shouted, striding past her to scoop his mangled cane off the floor. "You were bored, so you destroyed Melodic Cudgel?!"

"Oh," she said, feeling a little guilty. "I hadn't realized you named it. Sorry?"

"Sorry doesn't cover the half of it," he ground out, murder in his voice. He looked up at her with a glint in his eye. "What did you do?"

"Well, you seemed to like your cane-"

"Melodic Cudgel!"

"... Melodic Cudgel, but really, the Atlesian rifle has much more utility. And I figured you'd want to do your best to survive here, and you can't run around carrying two full-sized weapons if you want to use them properly, so…" She kept on babbling, watching his reactions closely.

Not like I don't get it, she admitted to herself. I'd probably skin him if he'd messed with the Crescent Rose. How was I supposed to know he'd named it?

"Stop talking," he said, dropping the remains of his cane with a clatter. "And give me that gun," he added, pointing at the rifle in her hands.

"Wait!" She bit back the urge to add "Don't shoot!" "I need to explain what I did to it first." She held up the rifle, pointing to the switch. "I made the transitions a little smoother. And more stylish of course!" She slashed, bringing the rifle to its full length in demonstration. "See? Faster. Plus I strengthened the barrel, so when you extend it into marksman mode, you can still fight with it like a baton. And I added a surprise, because you can never have too many sharp pointy things." She thrust the barrel forward, and a wicked-looking blade slid out with a soft snick.

Torchwick's face still looked like thunder.

He's a seriously hard sell… "Also, I worked in another setting," she added hastily. "If you turn it down like this…" She flipped the gun, watching it fold in on itself. "You can go into ultra-compact mode, so it's easier to carry. And it's a flare gun just like your cane was, see?"

He still didn't look happy, but he'd stopped advancing on her at least. That might have been because she was swinging his weapon around, though. "So, umm… can you maybe not shoot me?" she finished, offering him the gun.

Torchwick snatched it out of her hand with a scowl, then spent a few moments cycling through the rifle's modes, testing each one out by pointing it at her head. She bent her knees and kept a close eye on his trigger finger.

Finally he lowered it, turning the rifle over a few times in his hands. "Not bad," he said grudgingly. "But where's the hook?"

"Oh, that…" She rubbed the back of her head. "I couldn't really find a way to fit it onto your gun, but it did seem pretty useful, so…" She pulled out her own rifle and flipped open the scythe, pointing the butt-end towards him. "It's right here!" Turning, she flicked the handle out, sending the pointed - and now detachable - blade mounted there flying, before pulling it in with a snap. "I was thinking about calling it the Candlethorn. You know, because-" she cut herself off when she saw his reaction.

Torchwick's visible eye was twitching. "You stole my chain?"

"Well, you did just get a brand new gun out of it," she said defensively.

She swore she could hear his teeth grinding as he lowered his head. "Just one question." He looked up with an air of resignation. "What the hell is this?" He pointed to the butt of the rifle, where she'd crudely scratched in the letters "R.T." under her trademark rose.

"Ah… Well, I sorta named her. She's the Ruby Tuesday! Normally I'd paint her so she'd look even more awesome, but we kind of lack the resources here."

He gave her a doubtful look, then slung the gun over his shoulder. "Melodic Cudgel had more style," he said gruffly. "This thing is going to ruin my image."

He took it! Victory! After taking a moment to internally cheer, she gave Torchwick her sunniest smile. "But now you can ruin a few Grimm along the way too, right? It's a weapon worthy of a real Huntsman!"

What had looked like the beginning of a grin dropped off of his face.

Whoops.

"Let's get moving," he said after a moment. "We've been lucky that the Grimm haven't noticed us so far, but we want to reach that mountain before sundown."

Ruby nodded; it was a good plan, considering how active the Grimm would become when night fell. Still, a niggling sense of doubt plagued her as she followed him off the ship.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Would you listen if I said no?" He didn't bother turning as he forged into the forest, so Ruby rushed ahead to walk at his side.

"How do you know where we're supposed to go? Have you been here before?"

Torchwick's steps faltered, and he grimaced. "No, I haven't. But I have a feeling about this."

Ruby blinked, incredulous. "You have a feeling? We came all the way to Exsul to follow your feelings?"

"What else do we have to go on?" he said, and she stopped herself from lashing out. Right, he's here for Neo. He sounds… pretty miserable.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" She cleared her throat carefully. "I know a little bit about losing my best friends too. So if you want to talk about what's bothering you…?"

"Sure," he said, extending Ruby Tuesday to beat the undergrowth out of his way. "This place is going to be murder on my shoes."

She sighed. "Could you please stop doing that?"

He stopped and turned on his heel, looking angry. "What? Deflecting your nosy little questions with sarcasm? I don't get it. Why do you keep trying to be so friendly? What do you want from me? You're useful, I'll give you that, but we live in two different worlds, Rose. Once this is over, we're going to be standing on opposite sides of the fence again."

"Hey! You used my name again!" Ruby couldn't stop her triumphant grin from spreading.

He slapped his forehead. "You completely missed the point!"

"You're the one who did that," she said, stepping in front of Torchwick. "I meant stop making so much noise by trampling through the bushes. You're such a city slicker!"

"Says the country bumpkin," he shot back, though he did pull out his gun at the same time she raised Crescent Rose.

"Look at what you did!" The underbrush rustled and a group of Boarbatusks emerged, snorting and pawing. "Okay… well, at least this group will be easy to take care of. Let's do this!" She took off at a run, jumping while firing her rifle at the leader of the pack. She used the recoil to twist above the herd, her eyes darting back and forth rapidly, picking out targets. One, two, three, four, and then five, she decided, readying her weapon.

A particularly large Boarbatusk who jumped towards her was her first victim. She turned her fall into a rapid spin, slicing through it as her scythe unfolded, then stretched out a foot to land heavily on the head of the second, crushing it into the ground. Pressing the barrel of the rifle between its eyes, she fired one more time to make sure it was dead and send herself airborne.

Easy, she thought with satisfaction, using her momentum to aim for the third. I have the rhythm of the battle now.

The was a loud pop, and her next target dropped before she could pull her trigger.

"What?" she yelled, scrabbling to stick the landing at the last second. She hit the ground with a thud where the dissolving Boarbatusk should have been. Somehow she managed to convert her disastrous fall into a clumsy roll to her feet, bringing the business end of the Crescent Rose around quickly.

Another Boarbatusk was making a spinning charge at her. She took aim, and-

Crack!

It dropped like a stone, skidding to her feet before evaporating into wisps of smoke.

Picking up the Crescent Rose, she spun the scythe in a wide circle, certain at least one of the herd was taking her moment of surprise to sneak up on her.

Crack!

Another one dropped before her blade could connect with it.

"Torchwick," she growled, gripping the hilt of her scythe. She shot him a death glare as he downed two more of the herd from his vantage point, cackling. He seemed to only be picking the ones that were within her range; easy for him to do from relative safety, since she'd thrown herself into the center of the fray assuming that he'd follow.

"This gun is really something else!" he said gleefully, taking aim at another Grimm. "You upped the firepower too, didn't you?"

That jerk is enjoying this! She stamped one foot, fuming. "Stop stealing my kills!"

He stopped shooting to shrug at her. "Then kill them faster."

"Rnnnnng!" She roared, pulling the Crescent Rose out of the ground and spinning it above her head. A small cyclone was beginning to form when she brought the hilt to an abrupt stop, letting her new chain scythe fly. Candlethorn whipped around the forest with a deadly whistle, slicing apart the leaves and branches on the surrounding trees and bushes, as well as the Grimm hiding between them.

As she reeled in the chain with a violent snap, a tiny part of her noted with satisfaction that she'd forced Torchwick to duck and roll. Without checking if he recovered, she activated her Semblance and rushed towards the rest, gracelessly using her blade to cut them down as quickly as possible. Dust rose around her as she skidded to a stop before the corpses could vanish; she cleared the air with a decisive swipe of her scythe, then whipped her head towards the last few remaining Grimm hiding on the outskirts of her destructive rampage.

"Feeling lucky?" she snarled.

They took off in the opposite direction, squealing.

Satisfied, she folded her weapon shut. Then she located Torchwick and stomped towards him, still fuming. "Haven't you ever heard of a thing called teamwork?"

"Of course! I hear it works out pretty nicely for people who get along." He was dusting himself off, looking annoyed. "Watch your aim next time, kid."

"You didn't even try!" she exploded. "All you did was stand there and shoot things! My things!"

"I'm not the one who took off without even mentioning what the plan was." He rolled his eyes. "Always have a plan, Rose. Anything else is suicide."

"For your information, my plan was to get in there and break up the herd before they could rush us. I thought that was self-explanatory! Battles are like a dance, and you messed with my choreography!"

Torchwick regarded her with pure derision. "You and your fucking fantasy worlds. Battles aren't a dance, Rose. They're about killing, killing as fast and as safely as possible. That's always going to be an ugly thing. You need to learn that survival is winning. It doesn't matter how you get there."

Her anger dwindled under the force of Torchwick's lecture. His usual contempt was there, but there was something harder and colder beneath the surface of his words. Something about the way he said it warned her that he'd lived it - but didn't enjoy it.

"I- I didn't-"

"You didn't think, like always. You want teamwork?" His gaze sharpened and he pointed his rifle at her. "Then don't fuck around." Then he fired.

The blast was deafening; the shot whizzed past her head. She spun around with a cry - in time to see the enormous antlered Blackhart that had crept up behind her fall over with a heavy thud, its mask shattered around one eye.

"See? Teamwork," she heard him say through the ringing in her ears.

Notes

"Lepus" and "Blackhart" are fan-made Grimm races by the artist Blue-Hearts. You can find great illustrations of them and more on her Deviant Art account, as well as these descriptions:

Lepus
While the youngest members of the species may appear as cute as normal rabbits, the Lepus is the sort of Grimm that is not to be underestimated as an opponent. In fact, there is a story of an Atlesian king and his band of knights being stopped by a single member of this species.

With their powerful hind legs, they can launch themselves at their victims at high speeds, tearing into them with sharp teeth and front claws. As Lepus get older, they develop impressive sets of antlers, which they use to gore their prey when they charge. Furthermore, Lepus typically travel in colonies and can overwhelm the unprepared through sheer numbers alone. One must also remain on guard if a Lepus burrows underground, as they are incredibly skilled at digging and older specimen have been known to use this skill to ambush Hunstmen and Huntresses.

The Lepus is said to be some of the most rapidly proliferating among all Creatures of Grimm; a statement that is corroborated by both field reports and mission requests for dealing with seemingly annual infestations.

Blackhart
While several subspecies of this Grimm can be found across Remnant, their populations are largest in the icy tundras of Mantle. What makes these Grimm interesting is that they seem to be the one of the few species that exhibit sexual dimorphism. Male members of the species being characterized by their larger size, impressive racks of antlers and greater proclivity for aggression. While the females tend to be smaller and more docile, only attacking if cornered. However, both members of the species are known for their incredible jumping ability, to the point where some old stories have stated they are capable of flying.

Returning to the male Blackhart, their antlers are their greatest weapons, in more ways than one. The irregular patterns on their antlers can disorient inexperienced huntsmen and huntresses, leaving them open for a charge. Male Blackharts have also been known shake their heads from side to side to try and gore their victims on the prongs.

Torchwick's (completely made-up) Semblance is a combination of heightened vision and accuracy. When activated, he can see over great distances in sharp definition, has good night vision, and preternatural accuracy with ranged weapons. I've been calling it "Eagle Eyes."

"Ruby Tuesday" is based off of the real world FN-SCAR. It conforms to the RWBY universe's lack of physics and weapon logic by automatically transforming between its "modes" with a switch. It can be a flare gun, an assault rifle (close-range), a battle rifle (mid-range), and a marksman rifle (long-range). In its marksman form, it can also double as a baton / bayonet.

"Candlethorn" is just the chain-scythe Ruby attached to the handle of her Crescent Rose - she didn't change the name of her entire weapon.