The course of the next two weeks went by awkwardly and uneventfully, for a variety of reasons.

First of all: Blake and Yang were starting to irk their leader. They worked with perfect synchronicity in every spar, every exercise— Yang the punchy tank you can't take your eyes off, supported by Blake the unpredictable rogue who'd crush you if you blinked. Yang was a napalm smokescreen. Blake was the assassin that lurked in the plume, and people reacted to them like idiots with a jug of water and a grease fire. Nobody knew that the correct answer was to chug the water and start running before the fire could catch you, but Ruby hadn't been given an opportunity for a partners vs partners spar, so she had to keep that educated theory in her pocket.

Secondly: Weiss. Weiss, Weiss Weiss. There was something every day: a cut, a bruise, a sprained joint or broken bone, and it was up to Ruby to flock to her side and make up excuses for her partner to hide her lack of Aura. Then it was up to her to deal with the aftereffects. Weiss grew more savage each day, more daring, kissing Ruby in places where someone could come by and see, siphoning her so hard some days she could barely see afterwards. Ruby tried time and again to take the upper hand in those encounters, but Weiss had her body and brain pulsing so quickly each time that she couldn't gain an advantage, leaving her like a clay doll in Weiss' hands. She wasn't gentle, either. Ruby's lips bled every time— smacked against her teeth so hard they split, or just outright bitten when Weiss pulled away. There had yet been a day where Ruby couldn't feel a hickey somewhere, and she was grateful she'd brought her concealer.

The pros of that were that she almost never ticced out anymore. The cons were… well, it wasn't like she didn't enjoy it. It was simple pleasure for her, body-against-body, and hating Weiss didn't mean she wasn't getting a little hot whenever she saw a fresh injury on the girl. It was just a call and response— a simple duty that was Ruby's alone— something she could do well, do often, and benefit from. She was really glad to despise Weiss. If she weren't the worst person, Ruby would probably have a third crush.

Nope. Burying that thought, puttin' it down deep. Stupid idiot brain. She didn't want to accidentally manifest that kind of thought— she liked what she had with Weiss. She liked having a nemesis. It was nice having someone to blindly hate, and being blindly hated in turn— it was a perfect outlet for her preconceived notions of Fourths; Weiss was basically all those stereotypes, conforming what Ruby already thought. So what if she had some tragic backstory? Tragedy wasn't an excuse to be a dick, just look at Ruby! She wasn't a dick!

Really, she wasn't. She knew as much. The little itch that constantly had her rolling her shoulders back was just Gille's, nothing more.

Third and finally: Ruby was weaponless, and her team had a mission in 24 hours. She was in the process of fixing that.

Ruby tightened the squat reel in her right palm, hearing it click with each turn, until her fingertips started to get pulled in as well. She tried to strain her fingers out against the force. The reel remained tight. Nothing snapped.

Ruby grinned. She relaxed her fingers until there was slack, then flicked out her wrist.

A small metal ball like a chrome fishing weight flew from each of her four fingers, shooting out with a trail of barely-visible silver as the reel in Ruby's palm unspooled. She watched the anchors fly down the target-range and bounce harmless off the dummy, then clatter to the concrete.

"Yes!" Ruby cheered, getting a few looks at the anticlimactic scene. "Weiss, did you see that!"

Weiss, whose arms were crossed as she stood behind her partner, merely huffed. "Verily. Thou'rt proficient at making useless things."

Ruby chuckled. "Useless?" she repeated. "Sure, the demo wasn't impressive, but have you been paying any attention to what I'm doing?"

Weiss shrugged. "Not at all. I have been expecting thy flexing blade, yet here I am shown… balls."

"Oh, I finished the sword last week," Ruby casually stated, flooring Weiss long enough to amend: "It's mostly just a buckler and sword now, I had to make something more rugged after last time."

'Last time', as in the time her weapon bad been caught in an explosion and subsequently turned into vicious shrapnel, the results of which left a faint pink line on her left cheek. Now with a simpler, more geometric construction, the one-handed sword/shield should be sturdy enough to withstand some abuse.

Weiss accused: "Tis a jest."

Ruby shook her head. "Nay. Tis the truth."

Weiss curdled. "Wherefor stashest thou such a weapon?"

"My locker," Ruby said obviously, "like everyone else."

"I've yet to see it."

"You haven't needed to see it?"

Weiss turned up her nose and harrumphed. "Forsooth, tis surely superior to this… thing thou'st wasted thing and mine energy upon."

"Your energy?" Ruby snorted. "I didn't even ask you to come."

Folding her arms, Weiss' mouth curled down so hard that a scabbed-over split in her lower lip reopened— yesterday's, Ruby remembered— as she grumbled, "As if I would leave mine own nemesis to the vultures."

Ruby glanced at her, forehead furrowing, frowning. Weiss didn't meet her gaze, so it was up to Ruby to decipher that little mystery, which she didn't at all care to. Shrugging, she turned forward again and started winding up the reel in her palm. She jumped when Weiss leaned over her shoulder to watch, getting uncomfortably close as someone passed behind them.

"And what, pray tell, be the point to this contraption?" Weiss asked, not getting any further away.

Ruby stopped reeling up her spool and motioned her other hand over the device in her right palm. "Well, I can't use my whipsword anymore," she said casually, not feeling too heartbroken over it. "But it offered a lot of maneuverability, swinging around and stuff," she mimed swinging between obstacles on her whipsword. "I didn't want to lose that, so I figured 'hey, what's strong and dangerous and something I probably shouldn't be entrusted with?'"

Weiss dropped her chin on Ruby's shoulder, supposing, "Most any Hunters' implement?"

Ruby rolled her eyes. Her free hand— the one without the reel and gauntlet— carefully lifted up through the space between the anchors and the reel. Thinner than hair and shining like silver silk, filament wires made the Aura over Ruby's hands alight crimson, warning her that being reckless with them could turn her into diced-up Rube-cubes. Two were strung to each anchor, but, thin as they were, it looked more like Ruby was lifting the chrome spheres with her mind. "Monofilament wire," Ruby answered. "I dunno what metal this is, but the tensile strength is absolutely wacko. The math told me I can garrote an Ursa in half with this, so it'll be no problem swinging around with it."

Weiss blinked. "You… made calculations?"

Ruby turned to her, just enough to stare in wonderment as she heard a 'you' come out rather than a 'thou' or 'thee'. Weiss didn't seem to notice, so Ruby left it unmentioned, but it still rocked her significantly. "Y-yes," Ruby confirmed after a second, a shaky smirk growing. "What, you think I'm actually bird-brained?"

Weiss, for some godforsaken reason, didn't move away, even still. "My beliefs are formed only with the evidence thou showest me."

"This isn't evidence enough?"

"Hardly," Weiss mused, snorting. "Weights on an overly dangerous string. What couldst thou achieve in combat? Dole out papercuts? Mayhaps thou couldst make them taut and play them like harp strings to serenade our opponents?"

Ruby pulled on the wires, tugging them up and flicking the anchors skyward, catching the balls in her left hand. She tossed them up and caught them casually, like it was a game, her Aura flaring a little every time one of the razor-thin wires menaced it. There was something she'd been thinking about.

Ruby casually scooted forward, deeper into the walls of the booth, and Weiss followed as expected, determined (for whatever stupid reason) to keep her chin on her partner's shoulder. Ruby tossed the balls up. She plotted.

Rubys: as many as she needed. Weapons: depends on how you wanna count the wires. Disposition: pretty friggin confident. Affiliation: Beacon Hunters' Academy.

Weisses: more than there should be in the entire world. Weapons: 0; not on her, at least. Disposition: still weirdly close, still leaning on Ruby, and exhibiting far more confidence than she deserved. Affiliation: The Formless Temple of the Fourth Archivist.

Predicted Outcome: hopefully not bloodshed. Ruby's lips and tongue were sore after these past weeks, and she hadn't even known those could get sore. This had been the first day without any injuries (and thus, rough kissing) so far, and she wanted to keep it that way, but Ruby had to admit that she always got a massive, dangerous, throbbing sense of self-pride around Weiss, and it demanded satisfaction.

Ruby's Semblance was a funny thing, in that it wasn't really teleportation like her mom. She moved between the points, though her state of matter was more theoretical than solid, at a speed so fast that measuring it would be pointless.

This meant that, with Ruby's reel unlocked and her anchors left suspended mid-air, she could plot herself a noose to slip around her partner's neck.

Reappearing behind Weiss, Ruby caught the anchors in a fist and pulled, wrapping the wires taut in the gauntlet they'd come from and forming a garotte right in front of her partner's neck. Weiss, unbalanced from perching on Ruby, nearly tipped forward into them before Ruby let the wire go slack in favor of squeezing her partner between her elbows.

When she realized what had happened, Weiss squeaked. "F-Florabel!"

Ruby chuckled, but dropped the anchors before anyone could come around and catch them in a compromising position. "Pretty nifty, eh?" Ruby intoned easily, reeling her wires back into the spool of her right gauntlet, a skeletal frame that only had thick metal bands of protection around her fingers, leaving the rest of the hand bare for better control, while her other hand would probably have a leather glove in case her Aura popped. "But now I'm good to go. No more hand-to-hand for me."

Weiss, with an edge of panic still in her voice, said: "And thou'rt certain twill serve thee well? What of thy sword?"

Ruby waved her off. "Oh, that's what I'll mostly be using. This is more for mobility, desperation, and/or style points."

"Style… points?"

Ruby turned, patting her partner condescendingly. "I'm gonna go to G-V and get some stuff for tomorrow. Coming?"

Weiss looked at her suspiciously, and Ruby realized her own tone: brazen familiarity. Downright friendliness.

"Who'm I kidding," Ruby amended quickly, venomizing her tongue. "You probably can't be seen in public with me, Fourth fr…"

'Fourth freak.' It wasn't hard to say, it was even slightly alliterative, but the shape of it crammed Ruby's throat like a book swallowed sideways. Weiss hadn't even, like, done anything besides invade her personal space a little, yet here Ruby was simulating garroting her and calling her a freak. Good god, was she the psycho?

Mom, trying her best at something she would only ever be bad at: 'Ruby, you're not a psycho, it's just… anger issues. And that's valid. Anger is valid, as long as you win. You did win, right?'

Mum, too tired from work to deal with the shitty kid that she usually took perfect care of: 'Oh my god, Ruby…'

Uncle Qrow, visiting while she was grounded: 'Oof, yikes. Wanna drink about it? N-no, kid, I was kidding.'

Yang, the best sister: 'Here, just keep it on mute and don't rat me out if you get caught. Controller's already charged. I'll knock on the wall if mom's coming, but you're on your own while I'm at my dad's.'

Tai: 'If you're gonna knock a bully out, make sure they can't snitch, Rubes. That's, like, day one. Did your moms teach you nothing? O-okay! Sorry! Ow!'

"Fr-incess," Ruby saved smoothly, perfectly, not awfully. "Princess, I mean. Whatever."

Weiss looked at her strangely— in both senses— the look being strange and Ruby being strange. "Do you…" Weiss twitched, noticing this time and correcting, "Wantest me accompany thee?"

"Bars."

"Florabel."

Ruby rolled her eyes again— her whole head, really, as if more rolling meant less chalance— and took big, swinging steps with her stupid bird feet, casually beckoning Weiss to come along by giving her time to follow while also not making it seem like she wanted her to come. Which she didn't. Nor did she expect Weiss to. Weiss, racist as shit, would probably start doing hate crimes in the open streets of Greater Vale for all and God to see, which she would probably find super based, if Ruby's assumptions on Fourthism were correct.

Weiss, surprisingly, did follow, making neither faces nor sounds that would betray any reasoning behind that. They just… walked down the hall, towards the dorm. Casually. Normally. Like two people who weren't thinking about throttling each other at any given moment, which Ruby genuinely wasn't. She was more just amazed that Weiss hadn't hit her with a 'beast' or 'heathen' in at least 24 hours.

It was a 'C' day (Wednesday for Team RWBY), referring to the 'A, B, C,' days of their school schedule. Mondays and Fridays were As, packed to the gills with classes and study. Tuesdays and Thursdays were Bs, focusing more on exercises and physical training, and Wednesdays were Cs. C days were mostly up to the students to do what they needed to do— catch up on studying, training, or stocking for a mission— so long as they submitted any off-campus activity to a professor and got it approved, which Ruby already had for this. She'd actually been pretty excited because she thought she'd be doing it alone until Yang (and probably Blake) met up with her, but now…

Inside the dorm, Ruby vacillated.

She felt lame. Weiss was probably gonna exit the bathroom like a friggin' runway walk, meanwhile Ruby had to decide between cargo shorts, basketball shorts, a long skirt, or a short skirt that was vulnerable to bird-leg fuckery. She could either look like a dude (ew), look like a huge nerd (which she was, but that wasn't hot), or have to constantly worry about what her legs were doing. She sighed.

Longski—

The bathroom door opened, and Weiss exited the bathroom like a friggin'... normal person. She had on the white shirt and pleated skirt again, which… had patches on it, parts where the shirt had been ripped (probably by Ruby herself) then hand-repaired with thread. The thread wasn't even the same color, making Weiss look bummish, for lack of a better word. Even her skirt had taken some fray along its hem.

"Weiss?" Ruby asked, concerned. "Is that all you have? I haven't seen you in anything else besides a uniform."

Weiss folded her arms insecurely. "N-nay, I… I am not as vain as you."

Filing the number of 'you's away for later reference, Ruby stepped back from her open drawer and waved a hand courteously towards it. "Do you, like, wanna try something else? I did my laundry this morning, these're all clean. We're probably the same size in pants and skirts, but I dunno if there's anything you'd like."

Weiss visibly and immediately prepared to launch into a tirade, but it died a horrible, violent death right behind her lips. She was blisteringly silent as she moved, approaching Ruby's wide, squat dresser like it was a bomb. She peeked at the clothes inside— shirts, pants, skirts— and Ruby expected her lips to curl in disgust, but they actually sloped upwards with awe. "Florabel," the girl muttered, leaning closer to the drawer as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. "Such a menagerie!"

Ruby shrugged, looking away. She gave her partner an awkward chuckle. "N-nah, it's just a few things, aha, you should see my closet at home. It's… it's got clothes."

Weiss nodded feverishly, but seemed to catch herself and stand up straight again. "Er… I cannot… such articles art unfit for someone… like me."

Her words were stumbling awkwardly, as if she were trying and failing to review each one before it came out. Ruby cast a judging eye up and down Weiss' ragged outfit, making the girl blush furiously.

"W-well! I!" Weiss shook her head, getting oddly serious. "I… I cannot veer from my schema," she elaborated. "Save for uniforms and such. This," she motioned over herself, "is what Weiss Schnee had been deigned fit to wear. Such is my right."

Ruby cocked her head. "That's it? I mean, you've got other clothes, right?"

Weiss' folded arms fell shamefully in front of her. Her eyes slid away. "Nay. This is all I managed."

Ruby quirked both brows at the odd phrasing, but remained silent. Weiss continued, sticking up her chin with all the pride of a paper dragon.

"Weiss Schnee has been graced this garb by the Fourth himself. She is appreciative of it."

Ruby eyed her. "So… you can only wear long-sleeves and skirts?"

"W-well… yea and nay?"

"White and blue?"

"Tis closer," Weiss conceded.

Ruby rifled through her shirts, pulling out one of her myriad baggy hoodies and presenting it proudly. Weiss deadpanned.

"Florabel, that is black."

"Abupup!" Ruby rushed to silence her, jabbing a finger excitedly towards one of the three wolves on the front design, declaring "White!" before she jabbed her finger at the big, central print of the shattered moon. "Blue! Blueish!"

Weiss opened her mouth to protest, only to be silenced when her partner chucked the hoodie into her face. Weiss whipped it off, only to jump when Ruby thrust another article in front of her: cargo shorts, just as baggy as the hoodie. "R-Ruby, you—"

"Don't call me that!" Ruby said, no real command in her voice. She pointed at the shorts. "And look! Blue!"

Weiss squinted, visibly calculating how close navy was to her 'schema', whatever that was, and taking what felt like minutes to decide to pinch the shorts daintily between her fingers. Without another word, Weiss scampered to the bathroom and closed it behind her. She hadn't seen Weiss smiling, but Ruby could almost feel her grin through the door.