I don't own RWBY or Call of Cthulu

Arkham Massachusetts October 26th 1924

Somewhere in the French Hill district.

3rd POV

The view opens up on a cargo truck driving through the French Hill districted of Arkham. As it went slightly below the speed limit of the bustling street, the truck went down an abandoned alleyway before coming to a complete stop. After a few moments the back opens up, their two Irish tough guys pushed one guy out before three others struggled to push out the second figure. The view slowed down as the two figures fall to the ground, giving a better look at them. Schmidt hasn't changed much in the past three months. He had bought a new trench coat to replace the one he lost, and wearing a black suit rather than grey. Yang however has changed, now set up with her own cash and choice of clothes, and a few things she bought. Her hair was still long and messy as ever, but with a few curls from the social events she had attended. Her outfit included a pair of white double buttoned pants with thin vertical black stripes. These were held up by a black suspender over white shirt with new white Viceroy Dress Shirt, unbutton enough to show some cleavage. Over it all was a brown double rider leather jacket that had it's right sleeve covering while the other was folded. Hiding her robotic hand was a single black glove.

The view focus's on Schmidt as he hits the ground hard face first, causing him to experience a flashback. Three months back, he had brought Yang before his boss. Admittedly Al was angry that Schmidt left for New Orleans in such a way. However the girl he brought back with her was a strange oddity for the slowly rising capo. She had no memory, money, or personality. Other than the big tits, strange eye's, and long hair she was little use to Al then another worker in the cat house. That was till another associate by the name of Polly touched her hair. That set something off causing her to grab the fellow and toss him out the window. Only reason he didn't die was that he crashed through someone's apartment… down two blocks from the Lexington Hotel. Now, she has become a feared enforcer for the southside gang.

Her reputation as a beyond humanly strong body guard grew overnight. One time a rival wise guy tried to whack Al on his way to the opera. She stopped the bullet with her metal hand before beating the man to death with it. From then on, she gained the moniker of 'Iron Arm' Long. Course it wasn't all sun shine and violence. In the following months she has been living with Schmidt. He took care of her like an old friend you haven't seen in years. But slowly grew into something different when Abigale awoke from her coma two weeks after returning from New Orleans. Her grief left her emotionally compromised for a while. Her legs, no longer worked requiring her to be carried up and down the stairs of their apartment. Yang was a great help and the two got along great. Must have been a sibling figure Schmidt chalked it up to. It wasn't long till she begin to refer to Yang as 'Big Sis'.

From these interactions the personality-less girl formed a kind caring side as well as a cold calculating one. Along with that she seemed to have a natural talent with boxing and eastern fighting styles. As well as a fondness to bikes. Saved enough for one with an attachable side car, would go on joy rides with Abigale for hours. As these were some of the few glimmers of joy the flashback ends with Schmidt rolling over. He had almost forgotten the reason for being here, till it came back to him. He was sent down here, to make a deal with a local mobster to secure a locative deal for European spirits. However it turns out the mobster was run out of town by his competition, an Irish mobster by the name of Sean 'The Hammer' McMurtry, who favored icing people with a carpenters hammer. However it seems he was willing to do business, in exchange for a favor.

Schmidt slowly pulls himself up as the Mobsters dropped a potato sack on the ground. As it falls onto the ground, the contents fall out before the two. Schmidt's 45. Colt Automatic and duster knife. Yang's A.E Luger 45., and gauntlet. Before either one could get close the Truck drives away as quick as they can, making sure they were away before either one could get their guns. After a few moments, Schmidt was the first to speak.

"… (Sigh) Fucking hell." Schmidt said as he gets up and dusts himself off.

"What now?" Yang asked.

"We find this 'Sticky' Jack. And whack the bastard." Schmidt states as he pulls out a cigarette. Yang walked over and removed her glove to reveal her robotic hand. With a flick of the wrist the tip of her pointer finger came off and a fire was lit.

Schmidt has yet to figure out who invented Yang's metallic arm. Who ever owns a patten like this will probably be richer then Rockefeller. The thing had featured the two had yet to discover. One of Schmidt's and everyone's favorite was the index finger had a built in lighter. As he takes a drag from he looks up and exhales before walking out the alley, into the small town of Arkham Massachusetts.

The small city of dark legends and gambrel roof tops was a splinter group of the Quakers who travel north after being booted from Salem. Their they built a thriving village along the Miskatonic river. However many terrible things had happened to this sleepy town. Some things that spawned multiple legends of oddity and horror. Recently, the sleepy town survived a horrible case of typhoid of 1905. Still, if there is one thing worth visiting, it's the Ivy league college, museum, and Library of ancient lore, Miskatonic University. Though, that isn't the focus of why Schmidt and Yang were here for. Question was how to find this Stick Jack. Neither of the two heard of this crook, or even what he stole. Though, it was a few day's ago so if it was big it should be pretty easy to find in the paper. They went to the local news stand before Schmidt toss the kid a nickel. The two looked through the latest issue of the Arkham gazette. After flipping through tabloid trash they eventually found something.

Double thefts by Mason D. Huth October 26th

'A shocking double robbery occurred last night at the Miskatonic University, with both the Library and the Museum being broken into and rare artifacts stolen. Police and University authorities believe the thefts to have taken place between 8:00 PM and 5:00 AM, however no word has come forth on whether the two robberies are connected. Archibald Pringler, a spokesman for the Vice Principals Office, confirmed that an ancient Greek scroll was missing from the library and that a native American dagger was also missing from the museum. Both Items are said to hold great academic significance yet little financial value.'

"Huh… how much are they worth?" Yang asked.

"On their own barley a penny, especially since most are fake." Schmidt said as he flips through paper, trying to find more on this robbery. "Maybe a mint if it were sold to a collector, and it was the real thing. But how in the hell is an Indian dagger and Greek scroll even related."

After failing to find more he turned to the Newsboy kid before asking. "Hey, kid. Got any more on the robbery last week?"

"Sorry, that was sold out last week." The kid said before eying Yangs… more noticeable features. "Course, for a kiss I could tell you where I can find more."

Annoyed Yang's eye's flash red for a second she takes one step forward before Schmidt stopped her. He turned to the kid before slapping him on the back of the head. "Kid, this ain't a fair ground. Sides if she doesn't kill you, I will. So either tell us where or We'll ask the next kid we see with a newspaper."

"Ouch, alright Mr." Kid mumbles as he rubs the back of his head. "Look if you want to know more just ask around at the Arkham Gazette."

"And where can we find the Gazette. We ain't exactly locals." Schmidt states.

"Clearly, and I ain't a tour guide. Find it yourself." The kid said as he walks off. Yang was about to stop the kid when Schmidt stopped her. Ain't no point in picking a fight with a kid. News publishing papers tend to stick out like a sore thumb. Just like police stations, all it will take is some walking around.

The two catch a ride to the merchant district, where they were staying. Their they asked the owner and sure enough he provided a map with key places of interest. College, a few shops, police stations, and churches new and old. The gazette was located in Newport district, across the river on the northern part of town. Rather then take a cab, the two rode on the back of Yang bike. A yellow painted Brough superior ss80. She had customized it to be much faster than most. However, for some reason she had painted a Bumble-bee on the side. Must be instinctual. After an half hour of dodging traffic, they arrived at the Arkham Gazette. Before entering Schmidt noticed a potted plant shop. On the sign was a scrawled marking of an old wiccan symbols. He remember hearing from his Friend Joe that locals carve these symbols to signal patrons that their was a speakeasys nearby.

"Hey Yang, mind asking around at the Gazette. I need to check on something." Schmidt said as he get's off the bike.

"Hmm, um are you sure? I ain't known for my subtly." Yang remarks.

"Kid, you can do it. Just go in, ask around. And for the love of everything don't loose your temper. Can't exactly bail you out if you get pinch for assaulting a guy curious about your hair." Schmidt reminds her as he gives her a nod.

He was right. Yang was a bit clingy at times but who wouldn't be in her position. Still, she was a fast learner and can keep a lid on her anger at times. With a nod of her head she and Schmidt walked off. Yang cautiously enters the building. The moment she entered she was met with a mad dash of reporters and editors all rushing in a chaotic circle. All working hard to get the next paper out. As Yang circulate through the crowd, she soon lost herself in the crowd. Sick and tired she leans her hand out stopping one guy.

"Hey, I'm looking for previous copies of the…" before Yang could finish the Reporter swatted her hand away.

"Ugh, look hot stuff if you want this gig you are going to talk with the receptionist down the hall." The reporter said mistaking her for another wide eye wannabe reporter. Looking at her hair he scuffs at the mess. "Also, if you want the job do something about that hair. Makes you look like a jay's daughter."

He was about to touch it and Yang flips. Without thinking her hand grabbed his hand and quickly twist it around causing immense amount of pain. As he cried uncle the entire office went silent, everyone's eyes were on the strange blond who was twisting the editors arm in such a painful way. After holding him in such a manner it soon dawns upon her that all eyes were on her. After a few moments she let's go of him before delivering a punt in-between the crotch sending him up and over. Landing on the chair. She then spoke slowly and clearly.

"As I was saying, where can I find previous copies of last weeks paper. That's all I ask." Yang said in an annoyed tone. Everyone points to the left, to a door reading Archives. Giving a nod she mutters loudly. "Thank you." Before walking off. As she does, a young women at a typewriter watches with a keen eye.

Yang entered the Archives, as soon as she closed the door the sound of a chaotically organize reporters begin to move about. Yang quickly looked through the news articals. Who ever organized these papers should be sacked, the place was a mess. With a long sigh, she got to work looking through the papers. It took her thirty minutes looking for anything, yet nothing. At this point she was on her As she was considering burning the place to the ground when a sudden voice called out.

"Looking for something?" The young voice called out. Looking over at the entrance was a young brunet. Adorned in a peach color Cloche hat, pinkish red wool coat, over a flapper dress she walked towards Yang.

"Maybe, who's asking?" Yang asked as her right hand moved down the back of her pants for the A.E Lugar.

"Suzie Kempston, and will you relax. I'm more interested in why a young broad is making a scene over last weeks newspaper." The women revealing herself as Suzie said as she held up her hand in a surrendering motion. This kept Yang's hand off her A.E Lugar, but if she tried anything the last thing she see's is her gauntlets barrel full of buckshot.

"Just interested in knowing more about the local sports." Yang lied.

"Uh huh." Suzie said as she grabbed last week's news paper from out underneath a pile of old news articals. "Sure you were toots."

She hands it over to Yang who cautiously took it from her. Course she could take it but beating a guy is differs from killing someone in cold blood. So with a sigh she looked through the article. After a few moments she found it. It was the same like the previous article with some details added. Something about the knife used for shaman dream quest or some nonsense. Course there was little thing to warrant about it. As she scrolled through she found another article. Marked October 19th.

Missing Papers, theft or student desperation? By Lackey Loboyko.

Arkham police are investigating a break-in at the residence of one of Miskatonic universities leading Professor, Stanley David. Last night, while the professor was staying late working on student papers when in the middle of the night someone burglarized his homestead. When interviewed it seemed that only papers from his personal study were taken. While worrisome Professor David was not so worried about the theft. "I just don't understand why anyone would want these papers. Professor David said in the interview. "It's just a translation of an ancient text that I'm working on and has no financial value." He then proceeds to joke. "Perhaps the hapless thief or failing student mistook them for great importance. "Well who ever stole these papers will be in for quite a shock when he reads them." Police questioned the neighborhood of South Garrison Street before the case was dropped. Due to the break in of the same university and library the Professor works at."

With the information she quickly looked for something to write down the information. Course Suzi already had a hand-held notebook and pen in hand. Yang reaches for it when Suzie pulls back. Remarking. "Tell me, why would the mob be so interested in these papers. Far as I know those papers are worthless."

"Lady, I have no idea what your talking about." Yang comments as she takes the pen and note pad.

"Uh huh. That tough gal attitude is a real give away. Doesn't help that your dressed like a prize gun moll, still a gal's got to know." Suzie said with a smirk as she gives a shrug. Yang simply rolled her eyes before writing down what she came here for.

She walked by her, leaving her alone in the archives. She moved through the crowd of reporters who moved around her like water around a rock. Not wanting to end up like the editor. She exist the building to which she found Schmidt enjoying a smoke by her bike. Noticing him brought a small smile on her face. She walked over with a little pep in her step.

"So, you find anything?" Schmidt asked before taking a drag.

"Yeah, the third Item." Yang said as she held up the small note. "Papers from a professor's home near the campus. If you're interested in seeing it."

"Don't have too. Figured out where he regularly goes to dip his beak." Schmidt remarks as he motions for Yang to get on. She gets on and quickly starts up her bumblebee. Zooming off through the streets of Arkham, unaware that a few key individuals took notice to them as the drove off.

Hours later into the night.

While Schmidt was in the speak easy, he asked the Bar tender working there. He natural required a little green to remember who Sticky Jack was. Normally Schmidt would bash his head into the table to get him talking but when this establishment is well catered by high ranking mobsters it was better to keep a low profile. Apparently Sticky Jack only visits when he is flushed with cash. Last time was six months back. However, someone else was asking about him a while back. A well-dressed man who could be mistaken as a preacher of some kind. Spoke in a southern educated voice. All he got out of him was a single name, Smith.

Heading to the lower south side the two adorned themselves in more low renting attires to fit in with Iris, Polish, and Italian caters. During the war Schmidt learned that when raiding a trench speaking the language of the enemy will help hide yourself in the dark when they can't recognize friend from foe. Applying his trade to the task the two disguised themselves with the clothes fitted for the job. Schmidt wearing an old sweat stained tank top with a rotting leather jacket over it. A decaying grey fedora his head and a pit pat of dirt smeared on his face. Only thing that could give himself away was the dog tag jangling against his wife's ring. Yang was wearing some vagabond jacket over and oversized stained mans button up shirt. Hiding her face was a decaying plaid flat-cap. They entered through the main entrance, the back of a run-down fishing equipment store. Entering down into the basement the place was filled with thugs who faces seem to blur. Low tier thieves, killers, and grunts mixed in with the working-class schmucks who needed a bottle of poison to stomach the day.

As people drank a small group of dropouts from Miskatonic played terrible jazz. Not something worth swinging too. Passing through the crowed the two came upon the bar with two open seats. They sat down and a plump man with bolding blond hair spoke in a polish accent addressed the two.

"So, what will it be?" He asked as he tossed over his shoulder the towel he used to wipe the counter.

"Anything that won't make us blind." Schmidt said as he placed two dollars on the table.

Giving a nod the man snatched the bill before grabbing some bottled beers from under the counter. Popping the caps he slid them to the two before walking off to attend to another. Schmidt and Yang took the bottles before tapping them against each other. As they put it to their lips a fowl taste hits Yangs taste causing her to spit it out.

"Ugh, what the hell is this?" Yang remarks as she spits out any residual remains.

"My guess, what we are drinking is bath tub grade." Schmidt remarks before reaching into his jacket and pulls out a flask and pours Canadian grade whiskey. Normally people want to stay sober but considering this is basically grain infused water the beer did little more then water down the whiskey in half. He offered Yang and she formally rejected it. Last time she got drunk she was a real hassle, while Schmidt wasn't annoyed about carrying her home she was embarrassed after finding out the shenanigans she got into while in such a state. She refused to get tipsy unless it was called for.

The two sat silently for a few moments before the bartender arrived to refill them. The two ordered another two rounds before Schmidt speaks up. "Say, bar tender can I ask for an ear."

"Depends, What can I do for you?" The Bartender asked.

"We were looking for a fellow. Goes by the name Sticky Jack. Chance you seen him?" Schmidt asked.

"Hmm, naw. Probably should talk with his negro friend Josh the spider." The man replies.

"I see." Jacob said as he looked around the room. Sure enough there were a few in the room. Question is who's the spider? He tipped the man before replying. "Thanks for the bear."

Schmidt get's from his spot and was about to leave when Yang question the bar tender. "Did you see a man. White suit, southern speaking. Goes by the name Smith?"

The bar tender looked at Yang with a curious eye before looking at Schmidt. He gave a motion with his eyes and the Bartender recalls the events. As he does Schmidt sits back down and listens in, unaware a few patrons were listening in. "Few weeks back, this bloke you described came looking for Sticky Jack. I tend to keep my ear to the ground but not many high rollers come to the establishment. Apparently, he was fixing a job that require an unknown associate. Don't know much about him, though he seemed to have money. Overheard him running a church out of the French Hill district."

"What, he's one of them Baptist? Or eastern religions?" Schmidt asked.

"No idea. Ain't exactly the church kind of fellow." The Bar tender said before remembering something. He grabbed something out of his pocket. A black card with gold designs on it. "He did leave his card. Ain't interested but maybe it'll be more helpful"

He slides it over and Yang caught it. Looking over it, she found it to be pretty cheap and flashy. In the center written in gold with a podium of fire behind it. Reading aloud what was written, "The Temple of Hope, Come Forth Sinners and Embrace Hope. 114 East College Street. French Hill district."

"Think there open tomorrow at ten and apparently gain traction with those who lost everything during probation." The Bar tender said as he noticed the dog tag around Schmidt's neck. "Even those who were involved with the war."

"Thanks, but I had my fill of Religion. Still suppose it's worth a quick look." Schmidt said before giving a nod to the bar tender. The two tipped the man before walking away, however before they could a vagabond stumbled onto Schmidt.

"H-Hey, I know you (Hick)" The stranger drunkenly remarks as he struggles to stand.

"No, no you don't." Schmidt said in an annoyed tone. He tried to push him off but the Vagabond held onto his clothes tightly.

"Y-Yeah, (Hick) Yeah I do… you, you… You, son of-ah-bitch… who slept (Hick) with my wife." The vagabond said as his hand reaches down his side.

"Sir, I think you got the wrong person." Schmidt said calmly. Before he could get the man off him, he pulls a Derringer from his pants.

Yang noticed this and quickly interfered. The pistol was aimed at the bottom of Schmidt's neck Yang places her right over the barrel and pushes it away causing the gun to misfire. The bullet ricochet of her metal hand, flying over into another patron. While the 22LR didn't hit anywhere lethal it still caused the poor bastard to scream in agony as he topples onto the ground in agony. Schmidt's eyes went wide and his pupils constricted. The gun shot went off, caused him to experience shell shock flashback. No longer the man before him a dirty vagabond. Rather an imperial Stoßtruppen, the bar was a small burned out French establishment in Château-Thierry. And the Derringer was a Parabellum-Pistole. Rage overtook Schmidt, who hallucinate himself in his doughboy uniform. Acting quickly, Schmidt's training kicks in and he quickly headbutts the Stoßtruppen, causing him to flinch in pain, giving Schmidt time to break free from his restrainment by bashing down on his arms. He takes a step back before rushing forward and tackling him to the cracked cobblestone floor.

As Schmidt savagely beat the Stoßtruppen to a bloody pulp, a few more Stoßtruppen came racing over armed with a mish match of cubs and knifes. Course they were attacked by a few A.E.F doughboys who came in armed with their own clubs and knifes. Schmidt's ends the bastard by getting up and crushing his throat under his boot. One Stoßtruppen came racing at him with a Nahkampfmesser in hand. Schmidt pulls out his Trench knife, flipping it around by the ring so he could have the knife pointing thumb side up. He sides step the knife strike before delivering a savage punch to the side, cracking the jaw as he grabs the wrist of the man. He yanked it forward before jabbing the end of the striking pommel into that damn krauts eye. As he falls to the ground Schmidt was tackled by another Stoßtruppen who proceeded to wail on his face for a few moments. Till Schmidt grabs his hand and pulls him close before sinking his teeth into the Germans' ear. As he cries out in agony. Schmidt quickly spits out the ear before stabbing the knife into the top of the man's shoulder. Using it as a hook he pushed the German to the ground, tearing the blade out and was about to end the fight when a loud bang can be heard. He looks over and finds himself back in the bar.

"Alright, y'all had your fun. But next schmuck who throws the next punch get's iced." A brunet of Greek decent in a cheap suit vest and patched pants spoke. In hand was a double barrel, beside her were five thugs, all armed with an assortment of pistols. As they cocked their hammers the crowed took heed to her words, to get a point across she asked the crowed. "Do I make myself clear?"

The crowed nods before letting go to see if they can find their friends… if they were still alive. Schmidt now coming back to his senses quickly backed off the man who he mistaken for a storm-trooper. Seeing the fear in his eyes made him realized that he allowed his memories to take control. He spots a rag nearby and quickly snagged it before wiping the blood from his trench knife. As he cleaned the blood he on instinct begin singing in a low hum.

"Johnnie, get your gun… Get your gun… get you gun. Johnnie show the Hun, who's a son of a gun. Hoist the flag… and let her fly. Yankee Doodle… do or die. Pack your little kit, show your grit, do your bit… Yankee to the, ranks. From the towns and tanks…. Make your mother… proud of you, and the old … red… white… and… blue." Jacob hums quietly as he scrubs the blood away from the blade. As he does Yang approaches him. He didn't bother to look up. Rather focused on scrubbing the blade. It wasn't till he was done did he even look up.

She partook in the brawl. Didn't even fired a shot from her fancy wrist gauntlet. Didn't had too, her weakest punches were as hard as salt rocks. At times it's hard to know what will inflict more damage, her fist of flesh or steal? Her collar was torn and her sleeve was ripped to expose her metallic arm a bit. However people weren't exactly focus on her arm. After a few moments the women from before approached the two with her men.

"So, I've been told you two started the original brawl. Though the idiot dead over there pulled a gun so explain your side of the tale and I might allow you to leave." The woman demands. The two remained silent. Schmidt was still out of it so Yang answered on his behalf.

"Man accused Schmidt of sleeping with his wife." Yang explained.

"Hmm, and did he?" The woman asked.

"He didn't…" Before Yang could finish the woman hushed her.

"I was asking the man, not the hot ass." The women interrupted. Yang's eyes turned red as she was about to shout Schmidt stopped her with a single wave of his hand. He stands up, and looks the women in the eyes. The guards all grabbed ahold of their weapons tightly ready to use them if this tall man does something.

"… No… I didn't touch his wife… nor do I know her." Schmidt said as he places his knife away. The women looked deep into his eyes. After a few moments she replied.

"… Alright. Might I request your presence alone. Ain't many times we get an outsider with such skills." The women invited the two upstairs. Seeing that they could easily be gun downed the two followed her upstairs. In the shop the guards stood outsider the office while they were inside. The back office wasn't much. A simple small room suitable for four people. They took a seat in the wooden chairs as the women pulled out the most expensive bottle the establishment had. A single bottle of Canadian molt whiskey. She poured herself some into a tin can before pouring it into two others.

"Name's Alexandra Eliades but people call me Lexy. Who are you two?" The Women known as Lexy asked as she pours the third cup.

"Schmidt. Jacob Schmidt." Schmidt answered.

"Hmm, Capones best." Lexy muses as she hands him his tin. She then turned to Yang with her cup. As Yang takes it, Lexy takes notice to her robotic arm. "And I presume you're 'Iron arm' Long. Heh, and here I was thinking they meant you had a punch the equivalency to one."

"Trust me, she does. At times it's hard to think which is worst. Her right or left." Schmidt said as he takes a sip.

"Heh, seeing what happened down stairs I can believe that." Lexy remarks with a crack smile before taking a sip from her tin mug. "Still, I have to ask. What brings you two hotshot's this far east from Chicago."

"… We're looking for a thief. Goes by the Name 'Sticky' Jack." Schmidt answers.

"Jack Fulton? Pip-squeak was in here a week ago. Dropped a huge tab and was boasting about pulling a job that put him on easy streak for a bit." Lexy remarks.

"Yeah well, he didn't exactly pay his percentage with his employer. So now we're looking for him." Yang states as she motions two nickels rubbing.

"(Sigh) And seeing this is a favorit watering hole you two high rollers came ah looking. Suppose you want to talk with Spider huh?" Lexy asked.

"That was the idea… till that drunk pulled a gun on me." Schmidt remarks.

"I'm not sure if he was drunk." Lexy said as she crossed her arms.

"What are you saying?" Schmidt asked as he leans forward.

"The man's windpipe you crushed in the brawl, was known as Anthony Pulmer. Goes by the name The Possum. He was an actor of some kind, used that talents to lure those into a false sense of security before plugging them with a derringer." Lexy explains causing the two too look at each other.

"So… someone put a hit on us?" Yang asked unsure if it was Lexy.

"Perhaps. Though I can safely say that it wasn't any of the mob bosses. They hire someone with more talent. No, this was someone cheap." Lexy answers causing both Schmidt and Yang to look at each other. The Question going through their heads now, who hired him?

*The view opens up on a lone man in a directors chair. Noticeable he is wearing a Russian gas mask and covered in multiple bloody bandages. After a few seconds he looks up with a patch covering the right eye.

Oh, hello there. This is Wombag1786 here. So last chapter ended… with a bit of a stabbing spree. I'm ok… I killed them all… thank god they were an improve group who acted not for the money but for the experience. … For free. They did it for free. My only mistake was giving them an actual copy of the King in Yellow. Regardless, this was a fun chapter to write. Yang has joined the mafia as a… huh, don't know what she would be. A Lieutenant, maybe a caporegime. Or maybe a protégé. Your call on that. But along with the bad ass name, she also became a big sister again. Awww. Guess some things can never be wiped. Big sister Yang. Then there is the chapter itself, Schmidt and Yang have to find a thief, and it looks like there investigation has drawn the attention of some folks who are less then pleasant. Also Arkham's best reporter as well. Wonder how will this end? Regardless, we will find out shortly. Now onto your questions.

From Crimson Weresloth: Alright, sure. The Nora tank has gotten… stale. *Looking to the right A clone of Nora shadow was seen. She had horrible mutated into what can be described as an "Akira, Tetsuo's mutation." It got so bad that security guards with flame throwers were brought in to deal with it. They are still trying three hours later.

Thanks for writing Crimson Weresloth.

From Enigma42: No problem. Yep, there are a few. As for the secret societies… Well, lets just say when they do come up, they blur the lines. A lot of lines. Yep Ruby's on her way to getting a cooler badge then Sun's and Neptune's, Jaune in the hero of New York city. (Something that New York needs more then ever these days.) And Yang is about to give some people an offer they can't refuse.

I have, hence where the inspiration came from.

Can't say I know who Jack White is. (Unless your referring to Jack Walters.) Or E.O.D But Charles Reed. Sadly not. Edward Pierce however will probably come up in refrence. As to help, there will be a list of people. You can help as well, buy giving a meat shield-I mean suggesting a brave O.C to help fend off the horror's of the unknown. (Rules for OC creation are in chapter 3, at the bottom. It's a suggestion, you don't have to make one if you don't want to.)

Oh the elder symbol. Mind giving one to Sebastian Kennedy. Thanks.

Thanks for writing Enigma42.

From Black cross0: Glad your happy.

Yeah, that stuff is like cancer dude. Going to get him… eventually.

Oh, she's been doing stuff. Sadly Not Blake stuff. (*Blakes daybue won't be for a long while. This is the third arc, she appears in the seventh arc.)

Thanks, here's hoping it ain't as bad as 2020.

Thanks for writing Black cross0.

From Carre: 1. And to you as well. Thanks, she… she was a good dog. I was there with her till the end.

2. Yep. Place on your sherlock hat pal, you earned it.

Well, congratulations none the less. Just know, the mysteries are only going to get more difficult. Take for an example this chapter. While it doesn't have many clues there is a reason what happened, happened. Try and guess why should be fun to watch.

3A. Trust me, even when translated it won't work in reverse. Best to think of it as spell casting gibberish. (Cause at the end of the day that's basically what it is.)

3B. Heh, yep Guy's the model of a cut throat business man. During the current war, he would demonstrate why his Direct current was better then Alternating current. By electrocuting an elephant with it. (Funny thing, not only was this animal cruelty but they showed how effective Alternating Current compared to Direct Current.)

3C. Tannhöuser? You mean Tannhäuser und der Sängerkrieg auf Wartburg? Or am I missing something here.

Was thinking something along the mask of Zoro but eh, if the glove fits. Heh.

3D. Yep, word of advice. Last thing you want is to look behind the mask. Trust me. I know. *Point's to bloody patch covering the right eye.

Nope, the lines are blured to the point that who is the real villian comes into question. The gods may to be blamed but that would be like saying it's a human's fault for crushing an ant. Then again some gods are more like the asshole kids with a magnifying glass. So… read in-between the lines I guess.

3E. Cancer my friend. Or at least that's the best way I can describe her. (No She is best girl, I mean what the situation she is in is how I would describe it. It's complicated and the only way to get answers is to read till the end.)

4. Yep, If my arc map is to be believed. We have The Dead Lights, Fara Ö, Le monstre dans le canal, and The Gargoyle from Stonehenge left. (These are all single lead adventures. The next 40-60 arcs left are either single or duel adventures. The one following after The Gargoyle from Stonehenge, named The Black Water Incident will have Jaune finding Yang.)

I digress, there are a lot of arc's I'm looking forward too. One in particular The Dance of Vice, Horror and Ecstasy. If I had to describe it without giving to much to the other readers, Remember ROSG chapter 26 Church Bell's may ring? Heh well it's like that, except 1. It's named after a real play, and two like that except everyone is on it.

Have a happy new year, and I'll get back to you in two weeks. Tuesday, just after midnight Eastern Coast (American) Time. Till then stay healthy my friend.

Thanks for writing Carre.

Now with that out of the way, I will be heading to the hospital for replacement eye surgery. So please leave a question or comment down bellow. Any OC's will be excepted. Fav's and Fol's will be a great help as well.

This is Wombag1786 signing off.