So, I understand people are a little unhappy with recent events in this story. I don't normally like to address things too bluntly like this because it tends to end in a feedback loop that gets out of hand. If I address the criticism of some people, then suddenly those people plus more reply to it in the next set of reviews, then I address those and yet more reply, and if I fail to reply to any then out comes the "Coeur doesn't read these" and "Coeur doesn't care" comments. Which I know I'm getting anyway but I try not to take it personally since I'm fairly sure that criticism is levied on literally every content creator ever, from fanfic to youtube videos to music to famous actors, etc.

As such I can't go over every complaint. It'd take forever and just generate more issues for me to go over as people respond to my explanations, getting increasingly emotional until it becomes a flame war. I'll cover some basic topics though.

However, since I know a lot of people do NOT want to read these notes/thoughts, I will be putting them at the bottom of this chapter. Out the way so those who just want to read don't have to deal with them. Thanks for understanding. And don't worry, the chapter is still full length despite the long author's notes.


Cover Art: Aristeo Storm

Chapter 46


There was a lot that stayed the same despite the change in teams. Qrow found himself surprised by that. As always, the initial feelings of dread were worse than the reality, and not being on Team STRQ didn't change how much they hung out. They had lessons together every day, the two teams ate at the same table, sparred together, and they would even spend time in the common rooms in the evening playing video games or talking. Sometimes that was all eight of them, sometimes it was just Qrow and Raven, or Qrow and Taiyang, or any combination of the eight people split across two teams.

A big part of his awful reaction to it, Qrow realised, came down to two things: the first was the perceived loss of control making him realise just how fragile events he took for granted were, and the second was some childish belief that he needed to be back on Team STRQ for them to become friends.

That would have been the case if this life were a mirror image of his last, with the team only meeting one another here at Beacon, but that was not the case. They had become friends before Beacon, so teaming up had turned out to be unnecessary. Summer constantly came around to hang in their dorm, Raven had even slept there one night when Taiyang complimented her pyjamas as "cute", and they had even split up to have a boy and girls' night in their respective dorms.

It almost felt like they were a team of eight with two dorms.

A lot of that was to accommodate him. His team wanted to show they wouldn't get in the way of him and his friends, and so were putting their best foot forward with the others. Thankfully, Summer, Willow and Taiyang were friendly enough to not make that feel like a bad idea. Raven absolutely was, but she was also happy to fuck off whenever someone got on her nerves, and rarely lost her temper with anyone that wasn't trying to get into her pants.

Instead of losing Team STRQ, it felt more like he'd gained another team.

Which wasn't to say things were all sunshine and rainbows. Beacon's classes were boring on account of him knowing all the material, and Raven had discovered she could challenge fourth years to duels, which landed her in the infirmary for a night. Far more importantly, Mountain Glenn was still set to collapse in the near future, and he had no idea what to do about it, so Qrow defaulted back to what was comfortable while he tried to think up a plan.

Teaching.

"You need to widen your stance if you're going to block like that," he told Peter, moving over to adjust the man's grip like he would a student in Signal. Peter might have been older, but only by a year.

Sometimes Qrow was still fixing people's mistakes when they were sixteen.

"Oh. Uh. Like this?"

"Better." Qrow slashed at the man, and Peter found himself less forced back when he blocked it. "You need to think which way you're moving and adjust your feet to account for it."

"Thanks, I—"

"Gretchen, I've told you not to spin when you fight!"

"But it's quicker than chambering a new hit!"

"Yes, and it'll be quicker for the Grimm to kill you." Qrow huffed, without malice, and moved over to run her through some exercises. As he did, and while Nessa was taking aim, he said, "Nessa, stop closing one eye when you shoot."

The crossbow bolt missed the target as the girl jumped.

"See! It affected your aim."

"For the love of—" Nessa threw her arms in the air. "That's not what ruined my aim! Will you stop correcting us? We know what we're doing!"

"As if I haven't heard that one before." Every teenager to come out of Signal had said that to him at some point. Every teenager had been wrong, Ruby and Yang included. "Just because you've always done something one way doesn't mean it's the right way. What will you do if a Grimm sneaks up on your blind side?"

"Blame my team for letting it!"

Gretchen laughed, and Qrow smiled at the joke, but he didn't let it go. "Learn to fire with both eyes open and you'll be better off."

"I know! I know! Ugh, you're worse than our actual teachers! I think I preferred you being a broody twat!"

"Feel free to shut me up. You just need to beat me."

A task they had tried and failed at. Team dynamics always revealed who was strongest in the first few days of term, with teammates sparring amongst themselves on the regular. Qrow was the strongest of his team and Raven of hers.

It was far more impressive an achievement for Raven given she was legitimately seventeen.

"Hah…" Peter let out a forlorn sigh. "You know we can't do that. Sometimes I wonder if all three of us could even best you. It feels like you could have moved up an entire year ahead of us. Makes a man feel a bit useless if I'm being honest."

Qrow winced. He'd seen this before back in Signal with the gifted kids. For one to stand out, there always had to be a lot more trapped in their shadows. Moving kids up a year wasn't just something done to help them, but also to help those who felt their egos being crushed by the presence of the first. As a teacher used to noticing the moods of children and doing his best to help them, he didn't like seeing those emotions appearing on their faces.

"You would kick my ass if you teamed up," he lied. They might have a chance, but he genuinely felt he could weasel out a win through sheer experience. He wouldn't, though. If it ever came to it, Qrow promised to throw in a convincing manner. "Don't let it get to you. Some people just learn things quicker. Any one of you could end up stronger than me come graduation. It really doesn't matter who's the best now, does it?"

It shouldn't be given they were all on the same side…

But kids would be kids. Hormonal, egotistical, and overly dramatic.

"I guess not." Peter was a terrible liar. "But, you know, I can't help but think you'd be a better team leader than me as well—"

"Me!?" Qrow laughed. "Yeah, no. I'm not leader material."

"How can you say that? You're stronger than me, smarter than me, know more about fighting than me—"

"And I almost caused the team to implode. Chin up, Peter. There's more to being a team leader than brute strength. I mean, I feel like Gretchen and Nessa would rebel if I was made team leader. Right?"

"I'd burn this school down and you in it," Nessa said, smiling. "And I'll do so anyway if you don't stop calling me by my first name."

Gretchen grinned. "Yeah, no offence but I'd rather have you than Qrow, Peter. You're not nearly as insufferable as he is."

Cruel. Deserved, but cruel.

It was clear Port didn't take it all to heart even though he laughed and nodded. Confidence issues, Qrow assumed. Common for any new team leader. Summer had – and still had now, according to Raven – those same doubts. He knew Ruby had. Honestly, though, not being leadership material was one of the things he meant truthfully. Some people were better fighters than they were leaders, and he'd always been too hot-headed. Growing up hadn't changed that, it just pushed him into being a Lonewolf huntsman who worked alone to accommodate it.

Maybe if he'd been smarter, Callows wouldn't have managed to poison him and make this all happen in the first place. Gods, he still hoped Ruby and the others came out okay from that.

I'd best rein back the teacher schtick, he thought, jumping into another spar but holding back more so Gretchen had a fairer chance. Luckily, he had experience with that sparring with his students back home. They may be kids to me, with all the inexperience that entails, but I'm meant to be their teammate, not their teacher.

Like it or not, he needed to re-embrace his childhood and start acting like a teenager again.

Easier said than done.

/-/

The first weekend in Beacon, Qrow took the chance to go to Mountain Glenn again. He asked his team if anyone wanted to, but they all had plans. Nessa and Peter were having celebratory lunches with their respective families, and Gretchen had promised to meet Hazel and tell him about how everything was going.

Willow would have jumped at the chance to come but… well…

He didn't really want to deal with her infatuation right now. Not that she wasn't a pretty girl or fun to hang around with, but it still felt too little too much like dating someone Yang's age. Maybe later, he said, for the tenth time. Maybe when she was eighteen, or nineteen, or twenty.

If she cared to crush on him for that length of time.

There'd been one other girl in their year who tried to ask him out, and whom Qrow had turned down as politely as he could. He gave the usual excuse about wanting to focus on his career and not being interested in anyone, and it served to keep her from tears mostly because she could see it was true. Technically, he didn't have to reject anyone if he stuck to that excuse.

"Eyes on the prize, Qrow," he said, sipping his beer. Only a small one that he was nursing in a pavement-side table outside a café. Across the road and behind heavy doors lay the prize jewel of Atlas' R&D division within Vale, the cybernetics facility housed in Mountain Glenn. Qrow took another sip and analysed the security and came to an unhappy conclusion. "I relied on Ozpin's gift too much, didn't I? Sheesh."

He was Ozpin's best agent, and a premier source of information, but looking at the place now he realised how much of that was down to being able to turn into a bird. In the same way Yang neglected her defence because her Semblance capitalised on it, he'd let his skills at scouting go because he could just turn into a bird.

Why bother improving at sneaking around when you could fly in and perch on a wall?

It was as annoying as it was humbling to realise it. No one was perfect, but he'd considered himself good at scouting and surveying when he really wasn't. Faced now with a serious challenge, his mind was drawing blanks.

But he was still a huntsman.

"Buck up," he hissed inwardly. "So, you've lost your ace in the hole. Doesn't mean twenty years of experience went down the shitter, does it? You're a teacher, damn it. You know how to do this. Just got to get back in the groove."

And better now than later.

The gate was the easiest way in but also the most guarded. One person in a small booth by the barrier, one in a tower a little further in, splitting his attention between the gate and the parking lot. There'd be another one at least, maybe two, in a control room looking over cameras, but they'd have a lot of cameras to cover so they were less likely to catch him. They would if he fucked around or wasted time, but if he was quick then it wouldn't be an issue.

The wall was tall but not insurmountable, a concrete thing about eight feet tall with barbed wire on the top. There were some metal spikes pointing outward to try and stop people before they got tangled in the wire (because Atlas really wanted to dissuade rather than peel dying people off the wall). Aura would let him get through that without pain, but it wouldn't stop the wire tangling and slowing him down. It'd make noise, too. A heavy towel or thick rug thrown over the wire would drag it down and give him an easier time.

It'd leave evidence, though. He'd need to be quick.

Nighttime would be best, but only for sneaking in. If he wanted to see more of what was going on, it'd be better to do so during the day when people would be working. More things to see. Night would be better if he could find an office and break in, but hacking wasn't a skill he had. Maybe someone in Vale could be found who did.

The planning came a little faster now he was into it, old habits he'd let wither coming back. It really was two hundred times harder for not having his bird form, but no one else would have had it either. It was a crutch he'd grown to rely on.

But before all that, he decided to try the plucky approach.

Downing his beer, Qrow left a tip and headed for the booth, approaching the man on duty with a friendly air. The man saw him coming but didn't panic or signal an alarm. They were in the middle of a city, and there really weren't a lot of threats to respond to. Atlas military always liked to be polite as well, wanting to keep the kingdom's reputation up.

"Hello there, son," the man said, raising a hand. "What can I do for you?"

"Hey. I was wondering if it's possible to get a tour. I'm a student at Beacon and I've always been super curious about Atlas and its robotics. Do you make mechs in there? AI Robots? Super weapons?"

He put much of it on but also watched the man's eyes, waiting for any widening or panic that he'd caught a stab in the dark. Nothing showed. "Whoah, whoah, that's quite the imagination kid. Mechs and robots? Ha. I wish we had that kind of technology. Would make fighting the Grimm that much easier."

Ah, he'd stabbed a little above the current tech level. A lot could, and would, change in the next twenty years.

"As for a superweapon, well, we wouldn't develop that in someone else's city, would we?" The security guard laughed. "And I'm sorry, son, but we don't do tours. There's a lot here that's classified, even for me."

"Awww come on. Can't you ask someone? I'll sign anything you guys want."

The guard smiled as he shook his head. "Sorry, son, but it'd be my job to bother the research teams over that. Honestly, there's nothing in here that's that exciting from what I can tell. A lot of it is just researchers going over their books and testing out some cybernetics. About the most exciting thing I've seen is someone bringing in a guy with a leg missing to test a prosthetic."

"That's cool," Qrow tried.

"Aye, it's good for the wounded if that pans out but it takes years for human testing to be approved." The man shrugged. "Least, that's what I've heard the eggheads complaining about on break."

"No tour groups, then?"

"Afraid not. But hey, if you're ever in Atlas I know they do tours of a couple of facilities. You should check those out."

Qrow thanked the man and walked away, doing his best to look dejected. It had been a longshot but talking to the man had exposed more about the security than anticipated. While they'd been chatting, Qrow had been looking around, spotting and placing two cameras – one inside the booth watching the guard in case he was incapacitated, and another over the front entrance of the facility looking outward. It had a tight ninety-degree turning angle and scanned the area once every ten seconds.

Best time to sneak by will be when it's raining. He had a glass window he can slide shut when it gets cold. If he does that, the heat inside and the raindrops outside will make it hard to see through the glass. Same goes for the cameras seeing past the rain.

Sadly, a quick check of his scroll showed predictions for calm weather this weekend, but there was some heavier rain predicted over the following Friday and Saturday. A good chance to give sneaking in a shot.

I'll need a disguise, though. At least I know I can get out if I'm caught, but I can't be traced back to Beacon. I'll need to make sure nothing about me can serve as evidence.

As Qrow moved back onto the pavement and toward the diner, a black shape suddenly swerved out the crowd and into him. The well-suited man in shades mumbled out an apology and tried to move on by.

Qrow's wrist caught his, holding the man's hand inside his jacket where his fingers had dared to touch Qrow's inside pocket. "A little well-dressed for a pickpocket," he remarked.

"Let's neither of us cause a scene," the man replied, his square, blocky face smiling. Qrow put him at late-twenties, early-thirties.

A gun barrel touched Qrow's diaphragm.

The man's other arm, in its sleeve, was fake, and he was holding his arm under his suit jacket, pressing the handgun toward Qrow. It would have frightened a normal person.

"I'll assume you recognise the uniform and realise how useless that is." Qrow said, smirking. "Go on. Shoot. See how that goes for you."

"Ah, but it'll draw unwanted attention to us both and I believe that's something you wish to avoid, Mr Branwen."

"Didn't realise I was famous. Mind removing the gun?"

"In certain circles. And you'll have to release my hand. I mean no harm."

"Funny way of showing it."

Some Atlas spook? Extra security? Qrow really hadn't expected Atlas to have plainclothes agents in the crowds, not in a peaceful place like this. Qrow also hadn't done anything suspicious enough to deserve having a gun pulled on him, and Atlas usually preferred to build a solid case before coming down on someone. They wouldn't risk an incident threatening a student of an allied nation unless they had an ironclad case, and all Qrow had done was talk to the gate guard.

When Qrow pulled the man's hand out his jacket, he noticed the slip of paper caught between two gloved fingers. The man had been trying to plant something on him rather than make a lift. Interesting. This man being from Atlas was looking less and less likely.

"Easier ways to talk to a man," Qrow said, releasing the hand and taking the letter. There was a number on it. "Sorry, but I'm focusing on my career right now. I'll consider a relationship later on."

The man didn't lose his smile. "Cute, Mr Branwen, but that there is more of a job offer, temporary though it may be. I represent a group that is as curious as you appear to be as to what goes on inside Atlas' little facility."

Huh. Not Atlas, then. Curious. "And you are?"

"Call me Vincent." Not his real name. "Vincent Saint Sinclair." It rang no bells, but the gun slid away into the man's suit. "We really shouldn't talk too much here but do feel free to call me. As I said, we may have similar aims."

The man pulled away, joining the crowd and walking on. Qrow considered giving chase but ultimately dismissed it, slipping the paper into his pocket. No point burning bridges that had appeared before him. He wondered who it was – competition, maybe? A rival company? That or a criminal group. Qrow liked to think he was savvy on the big players in Vale but that was in his time. These might be the precursors to the groups in control in the future.

Any could be useful, though the fact they did enough homework to get his name meant they'd noticed his interest before today, and that was a little more worrying. Only a little, though. Had they wanted to make threats, they could have done so. And somehow, he didn't get the feeling this was Ozpin's work.

It wouldn't be the first time he'd worked with groups having questionable motives, though. A huntsman was always adaptable. Though it wouldn't hurt to do a little research on his own, and to make these guys sweat a little.

It was a faux pas to reply to your new date too quickly.

/-/

"Go on Qrow! You can do it!"

It was all kinds of awkward having kids cheer for him in a spar, especially when they were cheering for him to beat up someone half his age. Also, even if those "kids" were his own age. Willow and Summer were competing to outdo one another in their support, and Gretchen and Peter were calling encouragement as well, just with more reasonable volume.

Qrow's opponent was good for his age, a boy from Mistral that Qrow vaguely recognised as having been on a KIA poster about eighteen years in the future, long after graduation. There'd been a lot of casualties in Mistral at the time. A suspicious amount. Ozpin had wanted him to look into it, but the attack on Amber took precedence.

His foe attacked with a little too much ferocity and Qrow got under his guard but made sure to do so slowly so as not to show off too much. Luckily, holding back was a skill he'd mastered from having to limit himself to different age groups in Signal. He was meant to give his students a run for their money but fight at a level where they could best him if they took his lessons to heart.

It wasn't too hard to fall back into that and give this guy a chance, and it was only fair to capitalise once the guy failed to take it.

Ozpin called it. "Victory by aura, Qrow Branwen."

Polite applause and cheers from his team and friends filled the hall, and Qrow offered a hand to his opponent. The boy took it, much to his credit, and let himself be pulled up. "Good fight," Qrow said.

"Your girlfriends are annoying," the boy replied.

Ha. Qrow laughed and cringed at the same time. He'd never quite get over the jealousy of teenagers, and their ability to jump to the wrong conclusions. Half-wrong, in Willow's case, since he was well aware of her feelings. As for Summer, well, they were friends and that was what they'd always be, but he could understand others not realising it. He and Summer had always been incredibly close, even in the original timeline.

Ozpin gave his expected advice and criticism on the fight, focusing mostly on his opponent, but he did stop to say, "I'd like to talk to you after class, Mr Branwen."

Welp.

It could be a number of things, from his team dynamics to being caught outside the Atlas research facility to his boredom in classes but, if Qrow had to hazard a guess, it was to be him holding back. Because while the other students might not have noticed it, Ozpin sure as hell would have.

"Sure thing, Oz."

Ozpin rolled his eyes but had long since given up on correcting the nickname. As a teacher, he'd been called worse. Qrow knew he had when the students thought he wasn't listening. Stepping off the stage, he accepted his due praise from Summer and Willow and a high-five from Taiyang, then offered one to his own teammates.

"Low-five," he said to the shorter Gretchen, earning a punch in the arm.

"Our next fight will be Peter Port versus Bruno Arbor."

"Good luck," said Qrow, along with the rest of the team.

Peter laughed boisterously about how he didn't need it.

But he really did.

It was hard looking at this thin and wiry Peter Port and not comparing him to his older self. Sure, the weight was better now, but the skill was not. Port had been a decorated huntsman with a knack for tall tales but bold action. Peter was… well, he was a kid. Honestly, he reminded Qrow of the Arc kid. Plenty of potential but held back by nerves and lack of experience.

Nothing that couldn't be fixed but… well…

Peter's coping strategy wasn't the best.

"HA! HA! HA! TODAY YOU FACE PETER PORT!"

Qrow winced. His whole team did. They knew Peter wasn't half as arrogant as he acted, being downright shy in private, but not everyone else had the same knowledge and Peter tended to come across… a little arrogant. The worst kind of arrogance too – undeserved arrogance.

His opponent, Bruno, sneered and fell into a stance with his metal tonfa, the ends hollowed to shoot out a round. Mechashift wasn't what it would be in twenty years' time, but most everyone knew how to hollow out a weapon to include a firing mechanism. It was the seamless transition from one form to another that was still relatively new, or just Inhibitively expensive.

"Begin!"

Peter charged in with his axe and took a cautious swing, all the projected confidence disappearing in an instant as he refused to commit to a proper attack. Too much caution, Qrow thought. Too much doubt. He'd seen it in Arc, too. The boy would attack, but he was always thinking about how he'd defend after and how he didn't want to overextend. That was all well and good, but battles weren't won through constant defence and if you threw every attack expecting it to be defeated and that you'd have to defend the counterattack, then you'd make it a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Sure enough, Peter's limp swing was caught and diverted, and then Bruno was inside his guard lashing out with his tonfa at a range inconvenient for the axeman. Peter grasped his axe and used it as a stave, showing he knew what to do, but he kept giving ground. He was trying to get back to a range he was more comfortable with, but his enemy would never allow that. It was easier for Bruno to keep pushing forward than it was for Peter to push back.

"He's going to lose," Nessa said, sadly. "Oh no…"

"Come on, Pete!" Gretchen whispered. "You can do it. I've seen you do better in spars!"

Qrow kept silent. He knew the fight was over from the first swing. He also knew Peter could have won, and that he wasn't half as bad as he showed in class. While Qrow held back, Peter was held back.

"Victory by aura!" Ozpin called. "Bruno Arbor!"

Where, for Qrow, only his team and friends cheered, almost the entire class cheered for Bruno. Peter's constant boasts and loud posturing hadn't made him popular with the class. He was the weakest by far, and there always was someone who had to take that spot, but the fact he kept acting like he was the best caused sympathy to dry up fast.

"Someone should talk to him."

"Someone?" Nessa scoffed. "Are you putting that responsibility on us now?"

"Ozpin is holding me behind to tell me off for something. I can't do it. But we can have a team talk later if you want."

"It's probably a good idea," Gretchen said.

Taiyang, having overheard, said, "You want me to talk to him? Man to man?"

Nessa shook her head. "No. It should be us. We're his team. Thanks, though."

Peter had picked himself up off the matt without help and, after hearing the critique from Ozpin, made his way back down. A few people jeered at him as he walked by, but Peter acted like he didn't hear any of it. He kept smiling, reaching their team.

"Alas," he said. "I had a bout of bad luck. I'll best him next time!"

"Yeah."

"Sure, you will."

"You did great, Pete."

Cowards. They were all of them cowards. Had Qrow been his normal age he'd have dragged the kid back to talk to, but he wasn't and didn't want to damage Peter's self-esteem more than it already was. There's no way he's unaware of it all, so that makes this an act. Something he puts on to keep himself going. A lot of kids had their various coping mechanisms. Some psyched themselves up in mirrors and others had lucky rituals or trinkets. Even Qrow had one, taking a quick sip from the flask Summer had gifted him before a serious fight.

Not all were as aggressively annoying as Peter's, however.

The bell heralded the end of class and Ozpin called out for him to stay again, just in case Qrow thought he could sneak off with the excuse of having forgotten. The man stood on the stage, hands behind his back as Qrow clambered up.

"You're not going to spar me, are you?"

Ozpin smiled. "You're not in that much trouble, no. But I do have to ask why you are holding back."

Heh. Someone ought to answer the scroll because he'd bloody called it. Better this than Ozpin finding out about the whole Mountain Glenn thing, too.

"I'm trying not to upset my team," he said. Ozpin tilted his head, indicating he was prepared to listen. "You've seen how Peter does in class, and you probably know how awkward our team was on the first day."

"Hmm. One or two teachers suggested we should break with tradition and let you change teams to be with your friends." Ozpin paused, and then added, "Many more did not. Being able to adapt to new teams and new circumstances is just as important a skill as being a good fighter. More so, in many cases."

"Yeah, well, that's fixed for now, but I don't want to alienate my team by being too far above them."

"One might call it arrogant to assume yourself so."

Qrow shrugged. "A whole lot more arrogant of me to assume you haven't noticed."

"True. Your skill is beyond your peers."

"A result of my early life and training with Raven every day since we were kids. Plus, the tournaments."

"Yes. It's not too unusual to have students with more combative backgrounds. They're often moved ahead a year, but I recall offering you that before and you refusing, as you wanted to stay with your sister and friends."

"I still do."

Ozpin hummed. "That's fine, then. However, allowing you to stagnate in my class is unacceptable. I have as much a responsibility to see to your training as everyone else's. I take it, from your behaviour, that you won't respond well to being singled out for team-on-one spars."

"I'd really rather not…"

Nothing would put him on a pedestal quicker than being the one who got to face two or three people at once.

"Then how about a compromise? I have students from years above who are not quite at the level of their peers. They are, however, still quite a bit better than what you'll face here. I'd like you to spar some of the underachievers of the second year. A chance for you to challenge yourself and for them to improve."

That was an elegant solution. It was a very common thing for people to get it in their heads that they could get better by facing strong opponents. That worked only if they were on the same level or could give said person a run for their money. Facing off against overwhelming opponents would do nothing more than drive someone's self-esteem down and reinforce the same defensive behaviour Peter was showing. There was a point where the ability for someone to learn from defeat was overwhelmed by their inability to learn from victory.

Because while mistakes taught the best lessons, they didn't teach all of them.

"I take it this won't happen in class."

"Of course not. To bring an upper year to class would single you out and humiliate them. I shall arrange private spars outside class. I'll expect you to give it your all. Just because they are struggling does not mean they are weak. Underestimate them and you'll pay the price for it."

"Got ya. I'll fight properly, I promise. This'll be a secret, right?"

"Yes. Your opponents would undoubtedly prefer it that way as well. You're welcome to tell your team whatever you like, but I'd ask you to keep the names of those you face to yourself. Beacon is a premier school teaching the best of the best. Our worst are still some of the best on Remnant." Ozpin smiled. "Something you might want to tell Mr Port if he's bothered by his losses."

It was a good line. He'd make sure to use it later.

"Is there someone lined up today, then?"

"Indeed." Ozpin glanced towards the changing rooms. "He should be coming out soon. I expect he's been waiting for everyone to leave."

Several minutes ticked by.

Ozpin cleared his throat. "Ahem!"

Summoned by the obvious hint, a tall boy stomped out the changing rooms with an unhappy scowl on his face. He wore a tight white shirt and black pants and carried with him a long cane-like baton. His bright orange hair spilled across his head like straw, coming down messily over one eye and hanging to his ears otherwise. Something tickled Qrow's mind, a sense of familiarity, but also disbelief.

"This is such a drag!" the boy complained. "Seriously, sir, making me fight a freshman? This is embarrassing!"

Ozpin smiled politely. "Mr Branwen refused the opportunity to be moved a year ahead when he was younger. Do not take him too lightly, Mr Torchwick, as he's quite capable of being a second-year student."

Torchwick.

Torchwick!?

Roman fucking Torchwick!? Qrow's jaw dropped – and not because the famous thief had been a huntsman, that much had been obvious by the fact he was able to fight at all. No, it wasn't the fact that a future career criminal was here before him, or even that he was considered the weakest in his year. It was the fact that Roman freaking Torchwick was apparently older than him.

How the fuck had the man kept his complexion at forty?

"Bullshit!" Qrow hissed. "Utter bullshit!"

"You're telling me, kid." Roman twirled his stick but mistimed it and lost control. He flailed for the airborne weapon, caught it and yanked it back, then trying to act like it was intentional. "Y—Yeah, you better not tell anyone about this, kid. I'll hunt you down if you do. If anyone asks how we know one another, it's you that needs advice from me. Got it?"

It was unfair. Between Glynda, Ozpin, Taiyang and now Roman, it felt like everyone got the good genetics but him. Even Raven looked closer to twenty-five at forty, while he'd started going grey and developing backpain. At least Peter was going to age like a normal freaking person, but it really felt like every other person had some kind of ageless genes about them.

"If the two of you are done negotiating the terms of your relationship," Ozpin said, rolling his eyes. "I would like to see you face off in the ring. Mr Branwen is not challenged by his opponents, and Mr Torchwick finds himself—"

"Bored of his!" Roman interrupted, refusing to admit weakness.

"Quite." Ozpin let it go. "Either way, you're to be sparring partners for a while. Let's get to it."

Come to think of it, hadn't this guy beaten Ruby up repeatedly and even tried to kill her on the airship over Vale? Roman was a whole lot younger, and presumably not yet a criminal, but Qrow had never gotten the chance to punish the man for what he did to his niece.

Qrow's smile was just a little too evil.


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Okay, so, here is the big wall of text I warned of. If you're not interested, just turn off now and save yourself the time reading the below. I'm sure some of you will read this and also think "yeah, ofc you say this now after you just involved some of this very stuff in the chapter" to which I can only respond "yeah, obviously". If people are unhappy and some of it is for the below reasons, it's kind of my job to try and address those inside the chapter as well, and work more on them going forward.

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Qrow feels too much like Jaune: I was aware of the possibility of this going in, especially since it's a male lead in a Beacon story, to which Jaune and Ren are typically the only available ones. I've tried to differentiate them but maybe I haven't done a good enough job, or maybe I've been too subtle or not regular enough with the differences.

I feel like some of it comes from girls crushing on Qrow and Qrow being oblivious, which is a Jaune trope I often use. So, they feel the same. There is a key difference, however. I write Jaune as oblivious because of self-confidence issues, and if someone like Pyrrha confesses to his face he is shocked but happy. He'd accept the relationship.

That's not the case for Qrow. Qrow isn't oblivious. He noticed Willow's crush almost immediately, and he's noticed Raven's friends crushing on him in the past. He doesn't have confidence issues and knows they like him. He plays dumb because he's an old man time travelling and coming back to a child's body didn't make him into children. On Summer, however. That is different. And quite sad. Qrow doesn't notice her feelings not because of issues with him, but because of his steadfast belief she will love Taiyang. Where if Pyrrha confessed to Jaune, Jaune would realise, if Summer confesses to Qrow then he's going to think she's joking, or messing around, or that she's asking him out to try and hide from her feelings for Taiyang. Summer could literally tell him "I am in love with you" and he'll think "Oh damn, Summer must be hurting because of Taiyang and Raven and is trying to find comfort in me. I'd best let her know I'll be there for her as a friend, but I can't let her do something silly like this."

Simply put, Qrow isn't oblivious. He has friend zoned Summer in the worst and most concrete way. As such, he simply cannot believe or accept any feelings she has for him as real.

Other ways I've tried to differentiate them (but maybe didn't do as good a job on and will try and do better) is by leaning into Qrow's experience as a teacher. You might notice he's always looking at his peers as if they're kids, often thinking in his head how cute they are and how much they need to improve and comparing them to Ruby and Yang. That's not an accident. I've been trying to push the idea of Qrow as an educator, which is different to Jaune. But I've also been trying to push Qrow as a bit of a fuddy old man, not understanding what's hip and not being able to really get in with everyone else. He's a bit antisocial aside from the friends he loves.

Tl:dr: I may have some fault here but have tried. Will try harder.

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Qrow should have forced Team STRQ or let Gretchen do the transfer: This relates a bit to the above in that Qrow is a teacher of children and feels responsible for them even when he shouldn't. If he lets Gretchen transfer, that doesn't necessarily fix team STRQ anyway (since Willow might refuse) but what it absolutely does is crush Gretchen's self-esteem. Jaune might go for that, being a bit selfish, but Qrow is a teacher first and foremost. He feels a strong duty to look after kids, seeing Gretchen as a student of his almost, and as such he couldn't accept something that would damage her career and young mind, just because he's moody over not getting his team.

He also doesn't want to hurt Nessa and Peach, because while they may not be as important to him in the future, he's still an old man who ought to be able to do better than upset some kids because he didn't get his way.

Tl:dr: Qrow has his reasons and those reasons relate to Qrow's character.

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Why Nessa and Port when much more fun (Oobleck and Roman) are available: Ah, I've had some joyously fun insults aimed at me for this. Yes, Oobleck and Roman were available, and they're also here in this story! I need them on their own teams though, both for Mountain Glenn and to involve Oobleck's side job. Yes, that means Roman is older, which probably isn't canon as per Roman's book (which I haven't read) but this is just a fanfic. I'm hardly saying my canon is the canon. Besides, RWBY has no shortage of adults who come across ageless, i.e. Glynda, Raven, Ozpin, etc. We know for a fact Raven is 35 and yet she looks like she's 25.

As for why Port and Nessa, I do have my reasons but something I wanted was to involve Port to actually serve as a Jaune-adjacent, to help take away from Qrow feeling like Jaune. Obviously, that didn't work as well as I'd have liked lol. Anyway, I like Port as a character and wanted to use him. Peach was just an "anyone could serve here" but I have plans for her regardless. While there are other characters I could use, I also want them in this story in other ways – characters like Maria, Tock, Marcus Black, Ironwood, Merlot and a few others. I needed them not on his team.

Tl:dr: I like Port and already have plans for others that people would have preferred.

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I know these aren't the only issues people have had but I've already spent 1,000 words explaining these ones, so I hope you can see how bad it'll get if I have to keep going. To those unhappy, do feel free to respond and give your opinions but please don't expect me to keep answering them. It's not arrogance on my part, it's not me dumping on you, it's just that I don't want to upset everyone else by having long rants like this. It's bad form.

If you're still unhappy, you absolutely can stop reading or leave bad reviews. I don't mind, I get plenty and accept them all. Despite what a lot of people assume about me I'm not really arrogant and certainly don't believe I'm the "best fanfic writer" like some people label me. I don't even know to say if I'm the best in RWBY, and no one can say that unless they have read every RWBY fic ever. There could be obscure gems out there which blow me out the water.

What I cannot do, however, is engage in lengthy debate. I could, and did, when I was smaller and had less work on, but if I replied to even a tenth of the negative reviews I get, I'd have to stop writing to do so. I might even have to stop sleeping. I used to engage more with people, but I have a lot of writing and I also have a lot of crap in my life right now that I'm having to deal with, the business I work for closing down slowly, etc.

Try not to get too antagonised by what is only a fanfiction, though. It's normal to dislike or be disappointed, and fine to say so, but if it's genuinely angering you or pushing you to the point you're trying to call others to hate on the author then it comes across a little strange.

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Next Chapter: 7th September

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