And we've hit the 200k word mark! Yeeeeh boi!
"So... Did you seek me out to vent out your frustrations?" Qrow snarked.
"That's a possibility, but before I slit your throat I'd like to ask a few questions." Raven spat back.
Taking refuge in the corners of a downtrodden tavern, the Branwen siblings sat across from one another with only a bottle of whiskey and two empty glasses between them.
Despite his urges to drink, Qrow realized the situation called for a leveled head. The last time he'd seen his sister was when he took custody of Yang by force, and he'd be damned to think that his twin didn't hold a high level of disgust for his supposed betrayal. Instead, Qrow opted to cross his arms and hear his sister out, even though his nerves were screaming at him to take arms.
"You're not going to drink?" Raven asked.
"Not really in the mood." Her sibling replied.
Raven scoffed. "This alcohol came out of my own pocket you know."
"Really?" Qrow raised a sarcastic brow. "I'm sure you paid for it through honest means then? Or am I going to find a poor chump bleeding his heart out in an alleyway?"
"I'm not that petty," Raven snarled, pushing the whiskey bottle toward her brother as she did so.
"Maybe not," Qrow shrugged, "but only Oum can tell what thoughts are going through that cunning brain of yours. So let's cut to the chase, what is it that you wanted to chat about?"
Pouring herself a glass of amber whiskey, Raven sipped lightly and took a deep breath.
"I know what you're looking for," she began, "the devil fruits are considered as something out of this world but can grant whoever eats it extraordinary power."
"So they say," her brother added, "but they're named after the devil for a reason. How can we tell that they aren't poisonous?"
"We don't, but that doesn't mean they aren't worth searching for. If they were just any ordinary fruit, the black markets and the school headmaster's wouldn't be turning over every rock to claim one."
Qrow's fingers tapped against the table's rim. "How do you know about all this? Even in the black markets, the rumors about devil fruits are done behind closed doors, unless you've found a crack to peek through, I'm betting you have another set of eyes lurking in the shadows."
"There are plenty of loose-lipped and arrogant traders who are all too eager to share some gossip. All you have to do is know where to look."
"Hmph, to think you'd spend this much time away from the tribe, aren't you getting homesick?" Qrow grunted as he finally poured himself a drink.
A long pause, the hunter stilled his drink and curled a brow at his sister's contemplative visage.
"What, did something happen to the old doctor?"
Raven shot him a glare but allowed it to drop as she took on a more stoic demeanor.
"The current tribe leader is nearing his end, and the candidates who are vying for his position are above your average hunter."
"So that old grouch is finally kicking the bucket? I can't say I'm really disappointed." Her brother deadpanned.
"How can you say that?" Raven hissed and slammed her palms on the table. "He raised us to be competent warriors and survive in the cruel wildlands of Vacuo. Have you forgotten the saying he engraved in our hearts?"
"The weak perish and the strong survive. Don't worry sis, I haven't forgotten, and I've still got the scars from the tribe leader's 'lessons' to make sure I have a visual reminder." Qrow scowled. "Still, that doesn't excuse the leader's violent outbursts and his tendency to belittle those around him."
"His threats were to ensure we remained strong as a unified force, if we didn't have an aggressive mindset, we'd have lost to the Kenyte tribe and risk starving to death."
Qrow downed his whiskey in one swift swig. "Unified? Sure, the tribe was strong and proud, but it lacked a general level of level-headedness. I mean, did we really have to chop the heads off the survivors of our skirmishes after all was said and done? Did we have to rob the losers blind despite agreeing to a scavenging truce? Tell me, Raven, was it necessary to kill teenagers to ensure our enemies remained weak in the future?"
A rare sight of pity in her blood-colored eyes, Raven glanced away as she crossed her arms defiantly.
"He was only thinking of the long-term gains..."
"Yeah, to mercilessly cripple those he deemed beneath him, which pretty much extended to everyone that wasn't him." Qrow shot back.
"That's not the point!" Raven yelled. "In the end, we learned the essential rules of how to get by in a world that is defined by survival of the fittest!"
Qrow stood so he could stare his fellow Branwen straight in the eye. "I don't have any issues with getting my hands dirty to win a fight, but I have to draw a line when it comes to cold-blooded murder."
He knew his sister wouldn't say it, but deep down she agreed.
"Then help me make a proper change..." Raven said in a voice so quiet Qrow would have missed it if it weren't for the empty tavern seats around him.
"Pardon?" Qrow wondered if his ears had betrayed him.
"There are... trials that the competitors will have to endure and surpass if they want to secure a spot for succession."
"Hmph, so your ambition is headed in the direction of leadership?" Qrow said humorously.
"I need to ensure the laws of survival are upheld," Raven growled, "if I allow any of those other barbarians to take up the mantle of leadership then the legacy of the Branwen tribe is sure to fall."
Her brother shrugged. "If those lunkheads decide to kill each other for scraps then I say let them. It's not like they've got any morals that could actually benefit the tribe in the long run."
"Exactly!" Raven smirked. "Strength is always superior no matter the situation, but it's how you apply those strengths that make you who you are."
"Right... where are you going with this exactly?"
The elder twin put her hands on her hips. "Our skills and combat training in Beacon, for the little that academy is worth, has granted us foresight in how to tactically subdue any physical obstacle in our path. If we joined forces and eliminated the other louts vying for succession, we could change the Branwen tribe for the better!"
Qrow pursed his lips then took a long sip from his cup.
"So what you're really asking me, is to help you assassinate those interested in power? I'm not sure, Raven, I separated from the tribe years ago and I don't think my presence there will be greeted with open arms."
"That's why we'll do it in secret." Raven leaned over slightly. "During the trials, I'll have you run in the shadows and offer me tidbits of how to proceed. Maybe you could exchange steel with a few of your most hated bandits as well?"
"I dunno," Qrow's glass hit the table with a lazy thud, "all this talk of betrayal is bringing up old wounds I'd rather forget. Not to mention I'd be sticking my neck out for somebody who didn't raise a single finger to help me out of the spider gang's den."
"That was different," his sister muttered, "you picked that fight all on your own and knew all too well of the possible outcomes that Ms. Malachite could pursue."
The afternoon sky adopting a darkened hue, the moon soon took its rightful place as the sun tucked itself away beneath the horizon. The tavern and its employees greeted the late-night customers with cheerful graces, the attempts for secrecy drew thin as both Branwen siblings shared a glance.
"I'll... consider giving you a hand, but don't go expecting me to exert myself for those assholes you call a family," Qrow grunted and finished what was left of the whiskey.
Raven's lips spread into what Qrow wanted to believe was a genuine smile. "I'll see you around then... brother."
As the hunter turned to leave, his elder sibling gave him one last tidbit of useful information.
"And I'd like to add... that Ozpin is lying about there being only three devil fruits."
/-/
His mind weighted by indecision and vast unknowing, Qrow eased against the walls of the bullhead with an air of aloofness as other passengers walked by minding their own business.
"Maybe I should have asked for Summer's and Tai's help..." The hunter muttered under a heavy breath.
While Qrow fancied himself as someone who could keep a secret, he'd long since lost the tolerance of hoarding information given the strife both he and his closest friends had to endure during his elder twin's rebellion then falling out.
"Maybe I could even convince Hawkins to give me a hand... Naw, who am I kidding?"
The stoic magician, a man who'd appeared out of thin air during his team's most emotional moments, had proven to be surprisingly willing to aid them during their missions. However, the trade for the straw man's talents was his high demand for lien and his reluctance to follow the more bold approaches to combat.
Hawkins never risked anything when it came to physical combat, and he seemed reluctant to shed any blood, even that of the defiling Grimm. Yes, he the blonde was a puzzle Qrow could never wrap his head around, but he didn't really have a lot to speculate in terms of history.
Not to forget that Oobleck, being the studious genius he was, could not uncover a single detail in regards to a place named the North Blue. The location's name seemed overly simple, but Hawkins didn't mention any other tidbits in regards to his old home. So, as far as Qrow knew, that straw-wielding powerhouse once inhabited a kingdom named Dolph which happened to be another location he had no clue about.
Then came about the mention of Hawkins' lackluster details to his former headmaster. Ozpin had been around for Oum knows how long, as his true age had never been disclosed, but not even he could shed any light on the magician's background.
Scratching his head, Qrow wondered as to why the topic of the mysterious Hawkins decided to grind the gears in his brain. Though perhaps it was because he'd been genuinely curious about his newest teammate from the get-go and that his headmaster had given him rather peculiar, yet vague, details.
"Forgive me, Qrow, but in terms of Hawkins' character, I know as much as you. Though, in complete honesty, I share your eagerness in discovering Hawkins' true intentions." The silver-haired teacher sighed from behind his desk.
"His intentions?" Qrow asked.
"Take this as you will, but I don't believe that Hawkins is a benevolent man at heart. I've already received a numerous quantity of complaints in regards to his savage, but effective, methods from the head offices of the MHA and I can't say I'm impressed. Why, if it weren't for the clear consciences of his current teammates, I can't imagine that he'd be a tolerable sort for any civil environment."
Qrow rubbed his neck. He couldn't deny his superior's description of the stoic blonde, but Hawkins had done some good since his arrival in Vale. For one, he served as the ultimate deterrent for Grimm in the eastern sections of the kingdom where the farmlands resided, and he'd earned himself a respectable reputation after he saved more than a handful of Faunus during Vale's most terrible inferno.
Also, that gloomy man had somehow devised a decent relationship with Glynda Goodwitch of all people. Now Qrow would argue that Beacon's snooty witch, while harsh, was not as bad as most people implied. Sure, she was headstrong and proud, but she had earned her high position by honest means. Heck, she even went out of her way to save the members of STRQ from time to time during their early school years.
"Maybe it's her nobility background that gets everyone riled up." The hunter chuckled and pulled out his flask for a quick swig of whiskey.
"Attention all passengers," called the buzzed voice of the speakers above, "we will arrive in Vale's commercial docking platforms in an hour's time, so please ensure you have all your belongings upon landing. Thank you."
Giving his neck a rough crack, Qrow shrugged and turned his attention to the spanning windows that gave the territories of Vale a whole new perspective.
Lush forests spanning as far as the eye could see, the mountains that clustered around them spread across the great territory, but their great links of stone, soil, and earth were not simply a display to praise as they also served as an ever-looming curtain over Vale's greatest failure.
The bullhead flying near the borders of the lost civilization of Mount Glenn, the city's decimation occurred roughly sixteen years ago with only its charred, broken, and uninhabited remains to show for it. A shame really, that the first major expansion of Vale held so much promise and devotion, only to crumble at the claws of beasts and horrors alike.
Qrow didn't care much for history, but when it came to the general suffering of an entire populace, he could be coerced into flipping the front cover of his textbooks.
Mountain Glenn was supposed to be the pinnacle southeast settlement that would serve as Vale's neighboring brother. For a time, things went swimmingly and the new citizens prospered in trade and technology. The creation of the underground trains proved to be exceptionally efficient in avoiding Grimm and natural disasters alike, yet ironically, became Remnant's largest tomb and a reminder of arrogant ambitions.
Qrow remembered Ozpin's downtrodden visage all too well when he subbed for the role of a history teacher. The way the headmaster would vigorously go out of his way to explain the key points as to why Mountain Glenn failed as an establishment led to an inspiration of understanding from his students, and most notably a man by the name of Bartholomew Oobleck.
A wistful sigh escaping his sloped lips, Qrow reminisced the days that allowed him to be no more than a naive teenager with dreams. Then again, his past life as a bandit in the harsh environments of Vacu did poorly to prepare him for the obstacles of social interaction, especially in regards to establishing friendships.
Not that his twin fared any better as Raven went out of her way to shut people out. In fact, just getting her to attend the more textbook classes proved to be Qrow's biggest hurdle. That is until the ever-educated oriented Glynda Goodwitch decided to literally drag the midnight beauty to class.
Since that incident, Glynda and Raven would share a genuine distaste for one another than to a bitter rivalry that would be counted after each passing year.
The hunter took another swig and let the whiskey linger on his tongue. He couldn't really blame Glynda or Raven for disliking each other, as their core ideals and views of the world were practically polar opposites. The snooty witch stood to serve the goodwill of her fellow man, while the midnight beauty cared only for personal survival.
"Hah... what a time to be alive." Qrow lamented as the bullhead's engines notched up its roars.
Pocketing his flask, he shook his head to rid himself of these school memories and felt his pale pupils flicker toward an ominous head of brown hair. Given his time skulking in the shadow's the ravenette had developed quite the skill in spotting those who wished to be hidden.
Scampering in the shelter of the unsuspecting crowds, the stranger in question whisked his way to the other end of the bullhead in a matter of seconds. And Qrow, being the ever devoted sleuth, decided to pursue the man out of genuine curiosity and concern.
/-/
Seeking shelter in his guest room located on the bottom sections of the bullhead, a devoted assassin sat idly as he ripped apart a cardboard package.
"Oh, so that's how Sora managed to escape Winch Green's clutches!" A scorpion Faunus chuckled as he flipped to the last sections of the most recent book of Sora, the warrior of the sea, series.
"Hm, you've really outdone yourself with this one magician! To think the stores selling the third installment have already been emptied after two weeks! Lucky for me, I have the first privilege when it comes to these majestic novels."
"...Tyrian, that you in there?" Called a familiar rough voice.
His nerves jostled, the spider Faunus jumped off his bed and readied his weapons. Taking a peek through the peephole, Tyrian's jaw slacked as the face of Qrow Branwen waited on the other side of his door.
"Hm, I didn't expect to see him here, looks like Vergo is slacking in the tracking Ozpin's forces. My goddess will hear about this no doubt, but for now, perhaps lending an ear to my supposed ally is the best course of action."
Slinking the weapons strapped to his arms to their stationary gauntlet state, Tyrian slapped on an almost genuine smile and pulled open the door.
"Ah, Qrow, what a pleasant surprise! To think it's already been a full year since we last met. Tell me, how are my old friends and teammates?"
Gesturing the gentleman to join him in his quarters, the ravenette politely declined and asked him to join him on the upper floors for some drinks and snacks.
Not one to deny free food or beverages, Tyrian jumped on the opportunity and happily accepted his cohort's proposal. However, the ring of a scroll delayed his hunger.
"Ah, it appears that my friends back in Mistral require my attention. If you'd excuse me, Qrow, I'll be sure to meet you in the upper cafes as soon as I finish this call."
"Sure thing," Qrow replied, "I'll be waiting in the back so find me when you get the time."
The door closed and now left with his own devices, Tyrian hopped onto his bed and tapped the answer button on his scroll. The image of an annoying woman with green hair pixelating into view, the scorpion Faunus rolled his eyes and frowned.
"Monet, why are you calling me? Aren't you supposed to be tending to your missions in Atlas?"
"..."
"Hm? What was that?"
"..."
"Oh, I see, that is quite the development. Perhaps I could wiggle in some room for your proposal, but I cannot simply forsake the mission that was bestowed upon me."
"..."
"Ah, I see, so Vergo's been assigned there and Watts is with him? Very well, I'll hear you out once I land in Vale, but I cannot guarantee my cooperation..."