AUTHOR'S NOTES: This ended up being more of a bridge chapter than I wanted, but the end reveal was a good stopping point, so the infiltration of Area 51 will have to wait until next time. It also ended up being some character building for Rissa Arashikaze, but probably this will be one of the last times we see her in this story arc. It is a RWBY story, after all, not a CIA OC story.

The Greenbrier

White Sulphur Springs, West Virginia, United States of Canada

25 April 2002

"Wake up."

Riana Arashikaze was startled awake, and looked up into the face of her grandmother. Rissa wore her usual expression of bored disappointment, but suddenly she smiled and gently pushed a mug of coffee forward. Smiling actually changed her grandmother's entire face: it made her look human. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

Riana looked over at the old grandfather clock that took up one corner of Rissa's office. It was one in the morning. She and Trivia had returned to Greenbrier at ten, and Riana was still on Las Vegas time. "Sorry I fell asleep." She sat up in the overstuffed chair and drank some of the coffee. Her grandmother took her coffee black—as black as her soul, she liked to joke, which was very infrequently.

Rissa sat down behind her desk in a swivel chair. "There was a budget meeting tonight in Charlottesville, and Congress was raking me over the coals…as if what happened in Poland was my fault. And then the Air Force tells me they're going to retire the SR-71, because they want more money for the F-35…" She shook her head. "Well, enough of that bullshit. You should've become a cop instead of an agent."

"Grandma, I haven't wanted to be a cop since I was ten." Riana took another drink of coffee. "Though come to think of it, it would've been safer."

"Give me your report on what happened in Vegas, then you can head to bed. You have the next week off—you've earned it. Though you'll need to provide a formal report as well, in writing."

Riana wanted to turn a cartwheel at the idea of having a week off, when no one was shooting at her or she wasn't flying through desert canyons at 200 feet—writing reports was nothing compared to that. She was too tired, however. As she gave her grandmother a synopsis on what had happened in Las Vegas, Riana wondered if she should tell Rissa about Trivia Vanille remembering that she was Neo Politan.

Trivia had slept on the flight back to West Virginia from Utah, but Riana had found sleep elusive. She meant what she said about Trivia, and she doubted that Trivia's remorse was an act. All the same, if Rissa Arashikaze knew that her reprogrammed assassin had total recall, she would very likely have Trivia killed. Riana might not do it, but the CIA had plenty of contract killers that would. Assuming she doesn't do it herself, Riana mused. Rissa was not above getting her own hands dirty. Riana remembered the story she had told Trivia, about Rissa murdering an entire family in revenge for them trying to kill her son and daughter-in-law and kidnapping her only grandchild. The story was true, and the savagery of the killings had been such that the cartels still feared the Arashikaze name. Rissa sat in her chair, calmly sipping her coffee, and Riana remembered how her grandmother used to take her to Six Flags and dote on her at Christmas. The family was found murdered at their dinner table, the report had read, and El Jefe had been burned alive, but not before he apparently was made to watch his family die. The youngest child had been six.

When Riana had finished, Rissa was silent for a few moments. "Well," she said at length, "I'm not sure having Raven Branwen now running the Mafia's affairs in Las Vegas is an improvement on Amoncio Glass, but what's done is done. We'll deal with Branwen later, if necessary." She set down the empty coffee mug. "The President won't be happy. He was hoping to bring Nevada—well, Vegas—back into the Union. He hasn't had much in the way of foreign policy successes, with the loss of Poland and the Beacon debacle." She shrugged. "He'll get over it."

"I think Blake Belladonna is going to try and infiltrate the Faunus smuggling scheme," Riana said. "Should we tell her no?"

"She'll do it even if we tell her no. That's the problem with people like Belladonna. They'll break the Holy Grail trying to pick it up." Another shrug. "Still, her White Fang training will help her. As long as she keeps her head, then this might work. So far, Ruby Flight has more than lived up to their potential." Rissa got up and walked over to the window. It was thick glass that could resist the hit of an RPG round, but she needed to be able to see the outside. The West Virginia mountains were quiet now, the stars bright in the darkness. "James Ironwood couldn't see that. Of course, if Ruby Rose wasn't like a bull in a china shop…" She turned around, picked up her mug, and went to the sideboard for more. "Another coffee?"

Riana shook her head. "No. Another one of those, and I'll be up all night." She finished it. "Grandma, I think Blake will need help."

"I already took care of it earlier this evening."

"Ilia Amitola?"

"No. Ilia's not working for us anymore. She paid her dues in full, and she can do the new White Fang more good than the CIA. She probably would do this, but I have a feeling that Blake will move as soon as possible—tonight, if she can—and it would take too long to get Ilia."

Riana hesitated, then got up and stretched. "Well, I guess that's it, then. I'm going to hit the sack."

Rissa nodded, and walked back to her desk. "You should go out this week and have some fun. Maybe go down to Six Flags with Trivia or something." Not for the first time, Riana wondered if her grandmother was telepathic. "A shame you don't have a boyfriend."

Riana smiled, remembering what she had told Trivia in Utah. "I don't think that's a good idea, Grandma."

"I'm not going to kill your boyfriend," Rissa chuckled. "Now your dad might—I know he was hoping that Sister Shannon could get you into a nice convent somewhere."

"Where would I meet someone?"

"Online dating? I don't know. In my day, we usually met people in bars, but you don't drink."

"Is that where you met Grandpa?"

Rissa looked beyond Riana to the nook where the two Japanese swords sat, one of them secretly still holding the controls for the Spring Maiden. Above and behind the swords, with a sprig of cherry blossoms on each side, was a portrait of her late husband, Riana's grandfather. "We met at work."

"Well, maybe I'll meet someone at work. Don't rush me, Grandma," Riana admonished her. "Mom's bad enough, telling me she wants grandkids she can spoil so she'll get into heaven."

Rissa barked a laugh. "Not something I have to worry about, though Satan's probably terrified I'll end up running Hell." She shooed off her granddaughter. "Get some sleep."

Riana started for the door, then slumped. She had to tell her grandmother. If the older woman found out from anyone else, then she would definitely kill Trivia. "Grandma…there's no easy way to say this, but…Trivia remembers who she was. She knows she's Neo."

Rissa's mug stopped halfway to her lips, and she set the coffee down. "Did you kill her?"

"No. She's…she doesn't like who she was. In fact, I think she hates Neo." Riana told Rissa about the conversation in the Gulfstream. "I genuinely think she wanted me to kill her. She's remorseful, Grandma. She regrets everything."

Rissa rubbed her temples. "That's unfortunate."

Riana felt anger bubbling up inside. "Grandma, can I be honest?"

"I expect you to."

"Let Trivia live her life. She's a good analyst. She doesn't need to be an assassin. We've got plenty of those. For God's sake, Grandma, she never had a chance to be a normal person. Let her do that!"

Rissa fixed her granddaughter with a stare. "I'm getting old. I should've anticipated this. Two lonely young women with not dissimilar backgrounds. Of course you'd become friends."

"I won't kill her. And I don't think you should either." Riana felt the smoldering anger at her grandmother. The kids, she thought with the old resentment she had felt since she had first read that report four years previously. You didn't have to kill them too. "Please, Grandma. Give her a second chance."

Rissa leaned back in her chair and stared at the ceiling for a full minute. "Very well. But Trivia's behavior is on your head. If her schizophrenia returns at Six Flags and Neo tells her to start shooting people in Splat City, then I expect you to act accordingly. If you don't, I will. Understand?"

"Yes," Riana said.

"I will be watching Trivia, but I won't move against her unless she starts acting out." Rissa closed her eyes, and her features softened. "Riana…you need a friend. If Trivia's it, then fine. Weirder things have happened, God knows. But I can't take too many chances, all right?"

"I understand," Riana told her. "I'll head out."

"Good night. And Riana?" Her granddaughter turned at the threshold of the door as she opened it. "I love you."

Riana smiled, which in her grandmother's opinion made her the most beautiful woman in the world. "I love you too, Grandma." She closed the door behind her.

Rissa turned slightly in her chair and stared at the portrait of her husband for quite awhile. Then she turned back, opened a folder, and went back to work. She had buried him a long time ago, and there were no more tears to shed.

Caesars' Palace

Las Vegas, Nevada, United States of Canada

25 April 2002

The sun raced across the North American continent and streamed in through the windows of the suite. The window in Blake Belladonna's room faced west, but the sun reflected off the thousands of windows in the hotels along the Strip, and right into her eyes. Her ears twitched and flattened back, and slowly she woke up. "Mmmff," she mumbled, and that was when the headache hit. "Oh God," she groaned softly. Slowly, she sat up in the bed, holding her skull, which threatened to come apart at the seams. "Oh, shit. I knew I shouldn't have…dammit, we did get drunk after all…" Then Blake stopped talking, because talking hurt. She turned in bed, taking a minute for each limb to work, and shakily got to her feet, somewhat hunched over. She looked down at herself and realized she was naked. That in itself was not a particularly big deal; she did occasionally sleep in the nude, when it was too hot in the room, or after she had taken a shower and didn't feel like getting dressed.

Or when she was not alone. Blake heard a sleepy mumble, and her eyes widened, which hurt too. Slowly, with mounting horror, she turned around.

In the bed next to her was Yang Xiao Long. The other woman lay back on her pillows, her blonde hair covering them, sound asleep, but the covers had come free and exposed one large breast. Blake had a very bad feeling that Yang was naked beneath the silk sheets as well. Blake looked around the room. On the room's table stood a half empty bottle of scotch and two glasses—one upright, the other lying on its side. What was on the floor was more worrisome, however, because it was her clothes, and Yang's. And from the door to the bed, those clothes were strewn in a fashion to suggest that both women had disrobed at the same time. Yang's shirt and Blake's were at the door; their underwear was just short of the foot of the bed.

Blake leaned against the table and tried to think, even though that brought more waves of pain through her head. Okay, Blake…I know this is painful, but try to remember what happened. She looked back to Yang, who was now snoring softly. Did we…oh my God, I think we did. I think I just had sex with my best friend, who is in love with me and is bisexual. But I'm not. I don't like girls. I don't. I don't… Some half-distant memory, like something from a movie she had watched, floated to the surface of the roiling ocean of her brain. She looked at the scotch, then hesitantly bent her head down and sniffed at her chest. Faunus noses were slightly more sensitive than human ones, and she smelled the distinct whiff of liquor. I poured…I poured booze over my boobs…and I…the only reason I would've done that is if I wanted to…oh. Oh, no. Another distant memory, one she knew wasn't from a movie: one particular night of debauchery with Adam Taurus, when Blake had poured champagne from her neck to between her legs, and dared her lover to lick it up.

Blake wasn't sure how she felt—she didn't know if she wanted to wake Yang up and ask her just what the hell they had done, or if she should just accept that the third sexual partner in her relatively short life was another woman, or if she should go throw up. Whatever she did, Blake decided, it probably required her to put some clothes on. Quietly, afraid to disturb Yang—and more afraid to wake Yang up and have it confirmed that the two had sex—she got her underwear on, found a robe, and walked out into the living room. "Oh, for fuck's sake," she whispered, because she wasn't alone.

Raven Branwen turned around from behind the bar. "Morning." She held up a coffeepot. "Crank, madame?"

"Raven…" Blake felt her headache get worse, if that was possible. "Is it something genetic with the Branwens? Wearing minimal clothing?"

Raven glanced down. She wore only panties. Then she shrugged and poured two cups of coffee. "So what? We're all girls." She reached under the bar and tossed Blake a bottle of aspirin.

"Pretty sure that guys don't walk around with their cocks hanging out in front of other guys." Normally Blake was a bit more eloquent, but it was 0730 hours local and she was hung over. She opened the bottle, took two pills, and put them in her mouth before washing them down with Raven's coffee.

"You don't know my brother." Raven snickered. "Second night we were at Beacon, he came out of the bathroom buck-ass naked with it swinging in the breeze. Tai didn't even look up. I thought Summer was going to have a heart attack. Pretty sure that was the first cock she'd ever seen." She finished pouring her coffee. "I grew up in a fucking desert with no air conditioning. I normally don't even wear these." She plucked at the panties. "I thought you Europeans were more open about nudity, but if it's going to mortally offend you to see a pair of tits that aren't your own…" Raven walked to her room and came back out with a robe on. "Happy?"

"It's not that," Blake said, sitting on the couch. She saw two other bottles of scotch—both empty—standing on the bar. "You're my best friend's mother. It's one thing in the sauna, but when I'm…you know…"

"Hung over and coming out of my daughter's room?" Raven picked up her mug and sat down across from Blake on the couch. "Other than you two getting fucked up drunk last night, what else happened? I mean, forgive the presumptousness, but I kinda assume that you two got up to something that involves taking your clothes off, and it wasn't skinnydipping in the pool."

Blake's stomach gave a little lurch, and she set down the coffee. The caffeine helped, but the bitterness didn't. "I…I don't know. I honestly don't know what we did."

Raven shrugged. "Doesn't bother me none. I've been with women once or twice, just to try it out. Didn't care for it much, so I stick with guys."

"Is that a Branwen thing?" Blake was starting to wonder what else was genetic.

"Damn if I know. I heard a rumor that my brother swings both ways, though I've never seen him with anyone but whores and girls he picks up in bars. Except for Winter Schnee, and I'd like to know how the fuck that happened. As far as in the Tribe?" Raven stretched out her long legs onto the coffee table. "Look, Blake. I'm not going to say you grew up nice and privileged, because you didn't—you're a Faunus. But as Faunus go, you're the closest thing to a princess your bunch has. Your poppa is Chieftain, or President, or whatever. Your mama is the classiest woman I've ever met—yes, I met your mom quite a bit when she was Kali Radpoor and she was kicking GRIMM ass in that little Gnat of hers. You didn't go hungry growing up."

No, Blake admitted to herself, but I did a few times with the White Fang. Then again, she had chosen that life; Raven had a point. "Anyway," Raven continued, "out there in what's left of California, life is what Thomas Hobbes said it was: nasty, brutal and short. You take your loving where you can get it, because every day? You're either scrounging for food or scrounging for stuff to barter for food. One day my mother brought back two cans of Alpo, and my brother and I ate that like it was the food downstairs at the hotel restaurant. My parents went hungry that day; we had gone hungry for three days before that. I lost my virginity when I was 14 to a boy who got killed a week later when a bike gang murdered him and his family out by Morro Bay. Qrow lost his to my best friend a week after that, and she got killed when we took Lemoore away from the Duke of Fresno a year later. Most of us have probably experimented with the same sex, because you're scared, you've got hormones running around, and you're probably gonna die soon anyway. It happens." Raven took a long drink of coffee. "So if you're feeling guilty because you fucked Yang, you shouldn't."

"But...I didn't..." Blake leaned forward, clutching her head. "Oh my God, I did, didn't I?"

"You don't remember?"

"No!"

Raven paused. "Well. That sucks." She took another drink of coffee. "Anyway, nothing to be ashamed of. She loves you, after all."

Blake sat up. "How…how did you know?"

"A mother can tell." Raven snorted. "And if you believe that bullshit, let's go play poker. But I can tell. Yang looks at you the way my mama used to look at my papa." She paused. "Or the way Summer used to look at Tai."

Blake cradled her coffee like a drowning man would a life preserver. "I don't love her, Raven. I mean, as a sister, as my best friend…yes, absolutely. But I don't think I could love her as a lover, or as a wife or whatever."

Raven laughed. "Oh, come on, Blake! One toss in the sack and you're talking marriage?"

"Isn't that what genuine love eventually progresses to?"

Another pause. "Yeah, I used to think that. You know how that ended." She took another long drink of coffee. "You were born in Scotland. Presbyterian, I bet."

"My father's Church of England and my mother's Hindu," Blake corrected her.

Raven's eyebrows went up. "I bet that made Sundays interesting, but that explains the guilt."

Blake put up a hand. "It is way too early to talk about religion."

Raven shrugged. "All I'm saying is, you don't have to sit there and worry if Yang ate you out last night. No one's saying you have to marry her."

"She loves me," Blake repeated in a small voice. "And I don't know how to love her. Not in the way she wants…or needs me to. And if we did have sex…that complicates things a lot. Especially if it was drunk sex. I've had drunk sex before, and I hate it when it happens. It's stupid. I'm stupid for doing it." She had been basically sober when she had slept with Sun Wukong, Blake knew, but there was at least twice—one of which was the champagne incident—that she and Adam had been very drunk. One had been hilarious, because they had been too busy giggling to get anything done; another had ended badly, when Adam had been too intoxicated to get it up, and he had stormed out of the hotel room, leaving an equally intoxicated and confused Blake behind.

Raven set down her coffee. "Blake, listen to me. You're right. It does complicate it. Look…I've been waving this off because to me, it's not a big deal. For you it is, and it's not right for me to just dismiss it." She laughed again. "Look at me, trying to be all responsible and shit. But the thing is, it happened. Now you and Yang have to figure out where it goes from here. I do know one thing, though…" Raven held up a finger. "This one doesn't count."

"Huh?" Blake felt confused again.

"Look. You two got seriously fucked up on Johnny Walker Red last night, so bad that you don't even remember what happened. There's a possibility that you didn't even have sex at all—that you just passed out in the same bed, or maybe you checked out first and Yang put you to bed because that's what friends do."

"Naked?"

"Well, Weiss told me that she bathed Ruby last night because Ruby heaved all over herself, so maybe Yang didn't want you to repeat the experience."

Blake sniffed a laugh. "That's true."

"But if you did have sex, and don't remember it, then you too can just pretend it never happened. Or know it happened, but don't count it as anything more than two lonely girls getting shitfaced and experimenting. It doesn't have to impact your relationship. Hell, you two will probably laugh about it in six months," Raven said. "Summer got super plastered one night—for a small woman, she could pour it down—and I had to carry her dumb ass home. She kept fondling and slapping my ass and saying it was so tight and she wished she had one like mine. Exact words. We laughed about that for a year. Sum wasn't bi, Blake; she was drunk and drunk people do stupid fucking things. Just like you did last night."

"Okay," Blake said, "how do I love her?"

Raven grabbed her coffee and finished it. "If I knew I was going to be playing relationship counselor, I would've put some whiskey in this thing. First Ruby, now you." She got up. "Blake, I am the last person to give that kind of advice to. Like I told Ruby, I fucked up my one chance at a serious, lifelong relationship. You're a smart girl, and so is Yang. You two will figure it out. Either you decide to be best buds like me and Summer, and that's as far as it goes, or you decide to maybe be part-time lovers, like the song goes, or fuck it, you decide to get married by Elvis tonight down at the Promised Land Chapel on the Strip."

"That exists?" Blake asked disbelievingly.

"Probably. Hell, for all I know, I own it now." Raven put a hand on Blake's shoulder. "You know what the absolute best thing you can do right now is?" Blake shook her head. "Be Yang's friend. She doesn't have a lot of them. She's been left by too damn many of them. I don't know if any of us deserves to be happy, Blake…but she does. In my admittedly biased as fuck opinion." Raven put her mug on the bar, not caring that the front of the robe fell open as she did so. "I'm going to bed."

"Wait…you haven't slept yet?" Blake exclaimed.

"Nope. Those cards were hot last night. Besides, it got better after Weiss stopped cleaning everyone out. Good night…er, morning, whatever." Raven walked to her room, just as Weiss opened her door. "Morning, high roller." She waved at the younger woman, then went to her room and closed the door.

"Huh? Oh…good morning." Weiss walked down to the sofa, yawning. "Mein Gott, what is it with the Branwen women and not wearing a top; it's like they're just bragging…morning, Blake. How long have you been up?"

"I guess about half an hour or so."

"Oh. You and Yang were already asleep when I got in about one in the morning." Weiss spotted the coffee. "Thank God." She went over and poured her a cup. "I heard you and Raven talking. Everything okay?"

Blake was tempted to ask Weiss if she had heard anything strange coming from Yang's bedroom at about one in the morning, but decided to let sleeping dogs lie. "Yeah. Just…well, she was telling me how much fun it was to grow up in post-apocalyptic California. Eating Alpo, losing your virginity at 14, that sort of thing."

"And I thought my home life was bad." Weiss added some milk to her coffee and noticed the two empty bottles. She nodded towards them, and Blake nodded back with a sigh. "Decided to get drunk after all?"

"I guess. I don't remember much about last night. Not sure if I'm happy about that or disappointed." Blake decided to change the subject. "How did you do at baccarat? Raven implied that you did pretty well."

"Let's just say we don't have to worry about per diem for the rest of the trip, and I could probably personally buy the fuel to get me and my Typhoon back home." Weiss winked. "I do love the game, almost as much as Ruby loved those White Russians." Ruby's door opened. "Speak of the devil, and she shall appear."

"Weiss…Blake…" Ruby moaned. She shuffled out into the living room; Blake saw that she was at least wearing a robe. Her eyes looked sunken, her face mint green, and she held onto the wall and various furniture like she was afraid she would fall over. "Help…me…"

Weiss shook her head and poured more milk into the coffee. "I told you not to get drunk. I told you."

Ruby came down the stairs like something undead. "Fuck…you."

"Despite you hugging me last night in the shower while both of us were very naked, no, I don't think I will." Weiss slid the coffee over to Ruby. "Here. Blake, aspirin?" The Faunus tossed the medication over to Weiss, who helpfully poured two pills into Ruby's trembling hand. "Think you can get these down with the sinful amounts of milk in your coffee?"

"Yeah," Ruby mumbled, and chased the aspirin with the coffee. "Thanks." She stumbled over to the couch and half-fell onto it. "Blake…what did I do last night? It's kinda blurry."

"A lot of that going around this morning," Blake observed.

Weiss cleared her throat. "Let me refresh your memory, Ruby. First, you got very drunk. Then you described to me in excruciating detail you and Oscar's sex life, and now I will not be able to see him without knowing his length and girth. Then you started a fight with some yakuza who were, admittedly, trying to pick me up and doing a poor job of it. We all had fun exchanging punches—well, I didn't enjoy being bodyslammed into a table, but the fencing part was interesting. Then Raven and the Mafia showed up and made them back off. So we came back here, you threw up all over yourself, and I—being the wonderful friend that I am—cleaned you off in the shower, which led to the aforementioned naked hugging. Yang then put you to bed, I went downstairs to play baccarat and think very heterosexual thoughts, and Yang and Blake emulated you in getting blackout drunk. Raven and I, amazingly, stayed sober. That is the recap of the last chapter in the amazing history of Ruby Flight, which we will probably never tell our children, assuming we live that long." Blake let out a low whistle, while Ruby clearly imagined Weiss falling to her death from the top of the hotel.

They heard a door open, and Yang walked out—wearing a robe and slippers, much to Blake and Weiss' pleasant surprise. She began clapping. "Bravo. Good morning, everyone."

"What? No hangover?" Weiss inquired.

"Nope, I feel like there's a B-52 strike going on in my head." Weiss pointed to the aspirin on the counter and held up an empty mug. "God bless you, Weiss."

"Why, thank you, Yang." It occurred to Weiss that she didn't know if taking aspirin and washing it down with caffeine-laden coffee was a particularly good idea. Yang did the same routine as everyone else and plopped down onto the sofa between Blake and Ruby. "G'morning, Rubes. Feel like shit?"

"Yep," Ruby groaned.

"Me too. Funny how that works. We planned on getting our drunk on, and mission accomplished. Now we wonder just what the hell we did while we try not to puke on this very nice carpet." Ruby coughed dangerously at that. Yang glanced over to Blake, and both turned red, but Weiss didn't notice and Ruby was too miserable to.

Then someone knocked on the door. All of them looked at each other, then at the door. Then they looked at Raven's door, but the new donna of the Las Vegas Mafia didn't make an appearance. Since she was the most healthy, Weiss grabbed one of the bottles of whiskey under the bar—their pistols were in their bedrooms—and walked towards the door. With her back turned and Ruby watching Weiss, Yang quickly turned to Blake and mouthed What did we do? and pointed to the bedroom. Blake sheepishly spread her hands.

"Who is it?" Weiss didn't look through the peephole; she had seen too many action movies for that. "This is a bad time."

"I'm sorry."

Weiss' face split into a huge grin. She unlocked the door and flung it open, to reveal a grinning Pyrrha, Nora, Ren, and Emerald. "Hello again," Pyrrha said with her distinctive singsong accent. "I heard that someone was getting the band back together."

AUTHOR'S ADDITIONAL NOTAGE: Did Blake and Yang do it? Are there Bumblebees a'buzzing? Or did they just pass out before they could get to the sex...or is there a completely innocent explanation? All will be explained in due time, like in the next chapter. (Hopefully I don't lose any readers over this. Bumblebee just seems to make one group very happy and another group very enraged.)

If Rissa's roaring rampage of revenge sounds like something out of Sicario, that's because it is. I actually got the idea for her character from both Benecio del Toro's character and Josh Brolin's...though not even Alejandro burned his nemesis alive. Rissa Arashikaze is not a good person, even if she's on the good side of this conflict with Salem. Then again, this chapter implies that she's been through a lot herself. Maybe Salem took something precious from her, as well...

As for Raven, she's becoming something of a den mother to Ruby Flight, which was not my original intention in this story either, but sometimes things just work out like that. The idea that Raven (and possibly Qrow) are bisexual is something of a headcanon of mine, though clearly this Raven was more "experimental" with it than the version of her in Sunshine and Summertime, where Vernal is her lover. I do love doing some worldbuilding through Raven, however; California really is Mad Max in this world. No wonder Raven and Qrow are the way they are.

Now that Pyrrha, Nora, Ren and Emerald (PNRE?) are there, now we can see what secrets Area 51 holds...and it's about time Emerald Sustrai got some screen time, I think.