Note: Hello! Been a hot minute. I had some difficulty coming up with ideas for this chapter, but eventually, I settled on a little anthology set on the fourth day of our vacation. And what a vacation it has been! Honestly, this is probably the horniest thing I've ever written, which really wasn't the intention when I started writing this story. For any of you who are tired of it, I promise we will be back to politics and misery before you know it. However, there are still lots of fun beach adventures to be had, so enjoy.

A Brief Interaction Between Pyrrha and Velvet

Pyrrha woke up feeling disgusted and barely remembering anything. She had slept for only four hours; the rest of her night was spent vomiting, harsh tremors running down her body. She was sluggish and moody and could barely stand on her own two feet. Just what the hell happened to her?

She shed her clothes and took a long shower, sitting down against the cold tile as she let the water flood over her. She tried to search her memories. There was a date with Jaune, and a drink—a good drink. She remembered sitting by the ocean breeze, laughing with him, and maybe she recalled drunkenly stumbling back to her room, and holy fucking shit she kissed him.

Pyrrha burst out of the shower, eyes wide with panic. She stood naked in front of the foggy bathroom mirror and stared at herself, a flood of emotions overpowering her. The shame of her recklessness, the fear of his rejection, the embarrassment when she remembered how he welcomed her, the hot flush as she realized just how much she enjoyed it…

And then, the fluttering of her heart, as it became clear that she made her move.

And it worked.

She was dating Jaune now. Right? That was how it worked. She was legitimately in a romantic relationship with the teammate she had a crush on, and the world didn't explode. At least, she was pretty sure it hadn't. She hadn't looked out the window yet. But seriously, holy shit, this was really happening. It wasn't a dream, despite how hazy and spurious her memories were. She knew them to be true. It was… god it was a lot to take in. Too much, even. What was she supposed to do now? What were the next steps? She needed to talk to Jaune—though actually, she doubted he would know what to do either. Jaune was just as naïve in these matters as she was. While she recognized how crucial her next conversation would be, she had the foresight to realize that barging into Jaune's room without a plan would only bring chaos.

She needed someone to guide her through this. Her mom? Yeah, she could call her mom and ask for advice. Though, wait, no… she couldn't have that conversation with her mom. It was far too embarrassing. She needed someone who was an expert in romance, but also someone who was available. There weren't too many of those in the villa, though one did come to mind. Someone she knew was gentle, understanding, and above all else, responsible. Someone she could trust to give reasonable and healthy advice to steer her love-stricken heart in the right direction.

So, doing what she thought was responsible, Pyrrha dried herself off, hurriedly put on clothes, and sprinted off toward one of the other rooms of the villa. Her head was pounding, and the bright lights in the hall gave her a serious migraine. Her footsteps were half as fast as she thought they were. Yet, she was able to reach her destination, careful to avoid any sign of her new, inexperienced boyfriend. Pyrrha pounded frantically on the door to her neighbor's room.

"Velvet? Are you in there?" she called. "I need to talk to you! It's an emergency."

A somewhat panicked voice called from behind the door. "Uh, just a minute!"

"Velvet, please! It's very important!"

"I'm… I'm coming! Just… wait, please!"

Pyrrha pounded on the door again. Normally, she would abide by Velvet's request, but her mind was frazzled by her hangover and wild emotions. She needed answers before she ran into Jaune and made any more fantastic, wonderful mistakes. She nervously stimmed, hearing lots of shuffling and worried whispering from beyond the door. It took nearly a full minute for Velvet to open the door, and when she did, Pyrrha was taken aback. She had never seen the young activist in such a state of disarray: hair frazzled, face flushed, chest rising from heavy breathing, and wearing a bathrobe that was seven sizes too big and smelling like… well, Pyrrha didn't know what. Velvet tried to smile and play it off, and Pyrrha wasn't able to see how pissed she was.

"Uh, yes. How can I help you, Pyrrha?" Velvet asked.

"I'm sorry for bothering you, but I needed to get your advice on something."

Velvet looked over her shoulder. "Can it wait like… ten, fifteen minutes?"

"Am I interrupting something?" Pyrrha asked sympathetically.

"No, no, it's…" Velvet sighed. "It's all right. What's wrong?"

Pyrrha didn't know where to begin. On the spot, with Velvet silently judging her, she did not know how to explain herself.

"You and Yatsu… how do you make it work?" she asked weakly.

Velvet crossed her arms. "What do you mean?"

"You seem so happy, but… there is so much happening all the time," Pyrrha stated. "You are teammates. There's our training. Our mission. You two seem to make it work, though. What's your secret?"

Velvet pondered the question. The first thing that came to her mind was that Yatsu was very tall and attractive, though that was pure recency bias and she doubted it would be applicable. She also didn't want to say the answer lied in doing what she was just doing, because Pyrrha seemed too prudish for that. Plus, Velvet was semi-aware of the context. She was told that Jaune and Pyrrha had a romantic evening, in the same breadth that Nora told her that anyone who walked out onto the patio during said romantic evening would get bonked on the head with a hammer. Pyrrha had come to her for advice, and though Jaune and Yatsu were completely different beasts—one of them being far more beastly than the other—she felt obliged to assist.

"Just… communication," Velvet said slowly. "It's not really about likes or hobbies, or even personality. It's just… mutual respect and open communication. Let them know what you want and why, and always be willing to listen to them. Even if you don't agree, if you treat them the way you want to be treated… you'll make it work."

"But I don't… I never know what to say," Pyrrha said tiredly.

"Then tell him that," Velvet said as if it was painfully obvious. "If he knows you have trouble communicating, then he'll be patient. And if you're patient with him not understanding, you'll be fine."

"That's actually a lot harder than it sounds. Being patient, I mean."

"It is a virtue for a reason."

"Right," Pyrrha sighed. "So I should probably go tell all this to him now. I-I mean, not that there's anyone I would be talking to… about this. That would be… n-no, this is all hypothetical."

Velvet nodded. "Sure. You should hypothetically talk to this person now and lay out your boundaries and what your expectations are. As long as you both agree on what you expect from this, you'll avoid many problems later."

"What kind of boundaries did you agree to?" Pyrrha asked innocently. Velvet's face turned a darker shade.

"That's between us," Velvet countered.

"Oh. Of course," Pyrrha stammered. "Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude."

Velvet smiled. "That's all right." It was not all right. "Any other questions?"

"Not presently," Pyrrha sighed. "I think I need to go and… do some things."

"Understood."

"And you can go back to doing whatever you were doing."

"Thank you. Good luck."

"Right. Thank you." Pyrrha turned to walk away but snapped back just as Velvet breathed a sigh of relief. "Not that I'd need it though!"

Velvet's smile flickered. "Of course. All hypothetical."

"All hypothetical."

"See you later, Pyrrha."

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye now."

"Bye."

Pyrrha left, not realizing how quickly Velvet shut the door behind her. She felt both much better and not better at all. Her head still hurt quite a bit. She would talk to Jaune sometime in the next few hours, but first, she needed to eat something. Whatever conversation they would have could not be done on an empty stomach. She would eat something, let her headache subside, then have a grow-up, reasonable conversation with Jaune where they would discuss boundaries and expectations. She enjoyed the sound of that. She just hoped he had steelier nerves than her.

A Brief Interaction Between Jaune and Weiss

Jaune was fucking terrified, and he was pretty sure he was going to be murdered.

He was half asleep and suffering a painful headache when he was dragged out of bed by a bitter Weiss Schnee. The lady of the house grabbed him by his sleeve and carried him down into the cellar at the break of dawn, without letting him change out of his pajamas. Despite his constant pleading, Weiss did not explain her reasoning. She simply forced him into the wine cellar, which was damp and dark and cold and very, very scary. She shut them in, letting Jaune stand awkwardly, surrounded by a seemingly infinite row of wine bottles. It had to cost somewhere in the tens of millions, though, to the Schnees, it was merely a drop in the bucket.

Or was it?

"Hello Jaune," Weiss said, standing stoically beneath the dim lights. "Do you know why you're here?"

"Um… no," Jaune mumbled.

"Oh, yes you do," Weiss said with a thin sneer. "Think very hard."

Think? Jaune's brain didn't want to think. He was too hungover to think.

"Am I in trouble?" he asked timidly.

Weiss simply nodded.

"What did I do?"

"Do you really not know?"

"N-No."

"I should have expected as much," Weiss groaned. "Someone so horribly drunk as you wouldn't remember the night you had. You practically poisoned yourself."

"Did I do something while I was out last night?" Jaune guessed. Truthfully, he didn't even remember drinking. He just remembered feeling really good, then wandering back to his room, and… wait a second, did Pyrrha kiss him last night?

Before Jaune could linger on the thought, Weiss took a step forward. "You drank an entire bottle of Premium Concord Grape. That is the rarest wine in all of Vacuo. Do you have the slightest idea how much that cost?"

Jaune did the worst possible thing he could do: he answered honestly. "A… hundred Lien?"

Weiss clicked her tongue. "One hundred and thirty-five thousand."

Oh.

That was a lot higher.

As Weiss slowly approached him, he realized the error of his ways. He accidentally drank their wine without permission. Extraordinarily rare and expensive wine. Oh god, how was she going to punish him? Slap him? No, there was probably some rich person's form of torment he was unfamiliar with. That's why he was in the cellar—it doubled as a torture dungeon. But no… Weiss wouldn't actually torture him. That would be far too cruel, even for her. She wasn't that kind of person, right? Blake, maybe, but not Ruby's girlfriend.

"What… what are you going to do?" he asked.

"I'm going to punish you the way Atlasians punish all of their thieves," Weiss said, eyes turning cold. "I'm going to cut off one of your fingers."

"What?" Jaune screamed.

"That's the rule," Weiss stated. "One does not steal from a Schnee. You cost me a lot of money, and if Winter ever finds out about this, she'll have my head. Penalties need to be dolled out before she takes matters into her own hands."

He took a frantic step back as his mind went into survival mode. Weiss was rapidly drawing near, and she was as icy cold as a snowstorm. She was actually going to cut his fingers off over a bottle of wine! This had to be a bad dream, yet here he was. He had to escape this somehow. He couldn't best Weiss in physical combat. He tried his other best tactics.

First, deflection. "But… I didn't even know I was drinking it! Nora served it to me. You should be mad at her. I mean, don't punish her either, please, but don't blame me!"

"Nora will get what's coming to her. But you're the one who recklessly drank the entire bottle."

Second, more deflection. "Pyrrha also drank it, though. You aren't punishing her."

"And unlike Pyrrha, you are expendable."

Third, bargaining. "What… what if I bought a new bottle of wine?"

"With what? Your allowance? No, you'll pay for it in a different way."

Fourth, begging. "Please, Weiss, I'm so sorry. It won't happen again."

"You're right about that."

Fifth, pleading—dropping to one knee, on-the-verge-of-tears pleading. "I'll do anything to make it up to you." He grabbed onto the hem of her skirt and gripped it tightly, choking out his fears. "I'll be your servant forever! I'll shave my head for you! I'll give you everything I own, even all my collectibles! Please, please, don't hurt me!"

Jaune trembled, preparing for the absolute worst. Weiss stared down at him, his pathetic quivering consuming her gaze. Her face was serious and sullen, and she let him continue pleading for several more seconds, taking the most from these moments she could. Then, at the peak of his desperation, a smile cracked over her face. She raised a finger to the sky, then brought it down to his nose. She screamed in jubilation.

"Pranked!"

Jaune looked up in confusion. "Wha… what?"

"Pranked!" Weiss shouted again. "You have just been pranked!"

"I don't…"

"I pranked you very hard!" Weiss said, cackling with evil glee. "That bottle of wine was seventeen Lien! It wasn't valuable at all. I was just pretending! I got you! I got you very good!"

Jaune wiped away the snot from his nose and stood up, blubbering with anger. "That's not funny, Weiss! I was terrified!"

"Because of how good my prank was!" Weiss stated. She still didn't fully understand pranks as a concept, but she was confident she just pulled off the best, most spectacular prank ever. "That was for helping Blake put porn in my shoebox. You've been counter-pranked! I, Weiss, have gotten the last laugh!"

Before Jaune could explain to her just how insanely fucked up she was acting, Weiss spun on her heel and walked up the stairs to the cellar. She couldn't wait to tell Ruby how fantastic of a prankster she was. Ruby would be so proud probably. Jaune would just stand there fuming, flustered, and, frankly, glad not to actually lose any fingers. He did learn a valuable lesson. Two, technically. One: always make sure to read the label before drinking.

Two: Blake was not the scariest member of Team RWBY.

A Brief Interaction of Blake and Fox

Blake and Fox were bored. So bored.

It was the middle of the afternoon. The sun was shining. The beach was right there waiting for them. This was the vacation of their dreams. And yet, it was boring. Paradise could only take them so far, they supposed. They both sat on opposite ends of a couch, Blake with a book in her hand, Fox listening to music on his Scroll. At some point, at the absolute height of his boredom, he took out his earphones and cast his blank gaze in her direction.

"So… what are you reading?" he asked.

"A shitty fantasy novel," Blake said dryly, not looking up from her book.

"You like fantasy?"

"Eh. It's fine. It's just something to do."

"Okay."

The room became silent for a long moment. Blake read a particularly bland paragraph, then subtly gazed over the edge of the pages. "You read?"

Fox's face was expressionless. "I'm blind."

"Blind people can still read," Blake said. "Brail exists? Audiobooks? You know, stuff?"

"Not a reader."

"Okay."

The room became silent for a longer moment.

Then an even longer moment.

"Uh…" Fox muttered. "I hear you're the wry, sarcastic one of your team."

Blake looked up for only a half-second, then returned to her book.

"Yep."

"Me too."

"Cool."

"Actual cool? Or sarcastic cool?"

"You're the sarcastic one," Blake grunted. "You can figure it out."

Fox pursed his lips. "Sarcasm?"

"Yep."

"Ah."

Another long-ass moment passed.

"Do you ever think that you're too funny for the people around you?"

Blake stopped reading completely. She slowly lowered her book, looking into Fox's dead eyes with her own empty stare. "What."

"You know, sometimes, when I tell jokes—because we're also the funny ones," Fox explained. "I get zero reaction. Nothing. Velvet and Yatsu are too sincere for my sarcasm, and they just give me nothing. It sucks. And Coco is very mixed. Sometimes I wonder if I could be on a team full of other sarcastic people; people who really get my humor. You ever feel that way?"

Blake kept staring at him. "Dude… what the fuck are you talking about?"

"You really never felt that way about Team RWBY? They don't seem like the sarcasm-understanding people," Fox reasoned. "I imagine it's hard to interact with them. They might be all serious and grumpy, and then you try to lighten the mood, and it just fails. That's had to happen to you at least once, right? It always sucks when that happens to me. I thought maybe you could relate."

Blake shook her head. "Look, Falt, my sense of humor and my relationship with my teammates is complicated. I don't really feel like litigating it right now if that's okay. I just want to read my shitty book. Thanks."

"Yeah, yeah, sure. No problem," Fox sighed. A slightly shorter moment passed. "Wait a second… Falt?"

Blake said nothing.

"Do you… do you not know what my name is?"

Her eyes widened ever so slightly, the faintest shame coming over her.

"Blake? Hello?"

Blake mumbled under her breath. "That was, uh… that was sarcasm."

Fox leaned back on the couch. "Oh. I see."

"Yep."

A very, very, very long moment passed. Fox perked up again.

"So, who do you think the sarcastic one of Team JNPR is?"

"I legitimately do not give a single ounce of fuck."

A Brief Interaction Between Ren and Yang

"Hey Ren, can I ask you a question?"

Lie Ren meditated on the floor of the patio, the sun beating down on his face. He did not open his eyes. He did not falter. He did not respond… not to the woman swimming around in the pool right next to him. Yang clung to the pool's edge, calling out to the young man a few feet away from the safety of the pool.

"Do you think meditation has actually been helpful?" she asked. He did not respond.

"See, my doctor suggested it for me," Yang explained. "She said it was a potential avenue of therapy. I try different things to calm myself down because my Semblance can get triggered by emotion. I'd rather do something like meditate than take a bunch of pills, but like… there's no way it actually works, right?"

He did not respond.

"I don't even know if I could physically do it," Yang joked. "Me, sitting still for hours doing nothing? No way. I think I'd go crazy. But does it actually work for people who aren't all antsy like I am?"

His brow furrowed.

"Am I disturbing you?" she asked.

Ren nodded. "Yes."

"Sorry," Yang sighed. "Though I guess that proves my point. I'm pretty sure I read that people who are really meditating can't get distracted by outside stimuli. Don't really remember where I read it though…"

Ren spoke gently. "If you would like to learn more about meditation, there are plenty of novels and studies about it. We can discuss it later tonight."

"Really? Thanks!" Yang said gladly. "I appreciate that. I'm trying to… well, some stuff happened yesterday, and I'm trying to settle into new behaviors. I wouldn't mind giving it a shot."

"You are very welcome," Ren stated. "Now, please, allow me to return to my focus."

"Can do!" Yang said cheerfully. She pushed herself off the wall and took some relaxed laps across the pool's surface. It was a time for new beginnings, new adventures, and new techniques. If she was going to support Blake, she couldn't risk another outburst. Her mind would have to be as calm and gentle as the pool water. Blake deserved the very best of her, and dammit, she was going to deliver. She wasn't expecting overnight success, but she was ready to try no matter how much she failed. She would be the perfect friend. Respectful. Supportive. Trusting. Now, if only she would learn how to sit still for more than five minutes…

A Brief Interaction Between Nora and Her Alarm Clock

Nora did not want to wake up.

Nora wanted sleep.

Nora had been under a lot of stress.

Stress was bad.

Sleep was good.

She needed to remove the stress.

She needed to sleep.

She needed to not think about getting Jaune and Pyrrha drunk and almost ruining everything.

Sleep would let her think of something else.

Nora's alarm clock went off at 8:00.

She had only been sleeping five hours.

Nora hit the snooze button and went back to sleep.

Nora's alarm clock went off at 8:09.

Nora hit the snooze button.

Nora's alarm clock went off at 8:18.

Nora reset her alarm for an hour.

When it went off at 9:18, she set it for another thirty minutes.

Technically thirty-two minutes, because she had to make sure the number ended with a zero.

At 9:50, Nora woke up and realized that she should really get up at 10:00 because that number was rounder than 9:50.

So she set her alarm again.

In her drowsiness, she fucked up the AM and PM settings.

Nora slept for another two hours.

When she awoke at 12:11, she complained to herself about how her Scroll sucked.

She dressed herself and joined the rest of her friends for lunch.

A Brief Interaction Between Coco and Ruby

It was mid-afternoon when Coco walked up to Ruby. The pair were lounging on opposite sides of the beach, relaxing in the sun, when the older student approached the swim-suited redhead and blocked out the sun.

"What's up, fellow team leader?" Coco asked, shaking her Scroll eagerly. "Mind if I show you something?"

"Sure, Coco. What's going on?" Ruby mentally steeled herself. Whenever someone showed her news, it was always the worst possible thing. Threats of war. Blackmail. Exploitation. Her headmasters coming up with a new scheme to murder her. Yet, as Coco knelt by her side, her sly smile betrayed the innocence of her request.

"So, you know I'm all about the fashion, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, I follow a lot of stylists on KnightsWeb to see what's in," Coco explained. "And I've been seeing a lot of… hey, see for yourself."

Coco turned the screen toward Ruby, and Ruby leaned in to take a closer look. She was caught totally by surprise. She saw Coco's social media feed, and the many pictures that lined her likes. What astonished her was that they were all pictures of women—more specifically, women who looked exactly like her. Their darkened red hair, their dark skirts, and their flowing red capes that stood out in whatever background they were pictured in. Some of them wore glasses; others had their personalized Team RWBY Fund gear. Some modified the look to give it a punk rock aesthetic; others, more elegant. Many of them were women her age or slightly older. It was like staring into a vast multiverse of Ruby Roses, a million alternate selves that she could never aspire to be. But, perhaps frighteningly, she was the one who inspired them.

"That's… wow."

"It's called The Ruby," Coco explained. "Everyone is doing it. It's the most popular by far, even more than The Yang. I guess because it's easier to pull off."

"Is that a compliment?" Ruby asked unsurely.

"Do you want it to be?"

Ruby thought about it. "Yes."

"It's a little crazy," Coco sighed. "All my life, I wanted to be the cool and famous one. I wanted people to look up to me and think, holy shit that's Coco Adel. I wanna be like her. But I always figured it was a pipe dream unless you win Vytal or something. No Huntsmen usually get that treatment. But, here it is, taking over my feed. You're here living my dream, Ruby."

Ruby tried to dismiss her. "No, no, I'm not… I mean, you know that doesn't matter…"

"Hey, I'm not jealous or anything," Coco laughed. "Okay, maybe a little jealous. But I just wanted to show you because I thought it was cool. You've become someone everyone wants to be."

"Only because they don't know what it's really like," Ruby reminded her. "If they knew what we actually had to deal with…" Her mood soured, and Coco rolled her eyes beneath her shades.

"Jeez, only you could take being an idol and make it depressing. Girl, you're a fucking hero. Be proud of it. Not everything needs to be overthunk and made into a huge sad deal or some drama or whatever. Sometimes, you gotta learn to take the win." Coco pulled her Scroll away and returned to her feet. "Well, that was all I wanted to show you. I'll let you get back to the sun. Later."

Coco sauntered away, and Ruby rested her head back against the tight webbing of her beach chair. She tried to let Coco's words soothe her. She… she was a hero. All of those girls could have been looking up to monsters or tyrants, but instead, they were following her example. They wanted to be kind, virtuous, and brave. That was a victory. She was making an impact on the world, like how her mom made an impact on her. If nothing else, she could be proud of her reach as a defense mechanism. Her popularity was still strong, and no one would dare trifle with Team RWBY while they stayed on the top of the mountain. She was changing people's lives for the better, including her own.

Ruby smiled at the thought.

Millions of young women all around the world, wanting to be like her.

Wanting to be heroes.

Wanting to be Huntsmen.

Wanting to attend a Beacon… or an Atlas…

Her smile faded.