The afterlife apparently looks like the Vale Third-Archivist Hospital of the Healing Saints, which happened to be the hospital Ruby was born in— a poetically yonic view of heaven from a religious branch that Ruby knew almost nothing about, save for the universally-known fact that reincarnation was not one of its facets. Sure, if it was Second-Archivist, she'd be able to (reluctantly) give a whole dissertation, and probably at least some kind of examination if it were First-Archivist, but Third-Archivist? No way.

At least it wasn't Fourth-Archivist. The Crux of Archivism had a bottom for a reason and Ruby firmly believed it was to represent those shitheels. And that was a lot! Coming from Ruby, someone who had done a pretty good job not cursing out of spite for her mom, that was a lot.

So Ruby— being a girl who used to eat, breathe, and sleep the Second-Archivist grindset— tried to consider the implications of the third branch of a religion she no longer followed. Perhaps it represented things ending as they began? Or maybe not re-incarnation, but super-incarnation? Like ascension? Or was that too much like the TriLexicoCompendium fics she read instead of sleeping?

"No— Rae, do not go in there I swear to—"

Or maybe she wasn't dead.

Oh shiiiiii… oot. Shoot.

"Stop— let me go! That is my daughter in there—"

"Yeah and she's mine too! We need to set some ground rules before you go in there and turn her inside out!"

They were right outside the door. Ruby could seeher mom's shockingly black mane through the vertical slit window. Anxious sparks jumped across Ruby's nerves, ebbing across her body and landing in her left arm as if out of spite, reminding her it'd been viciously broken. It was bound in a thick cast from the elbow down. It hurt.

Ruby needed to twist it.

Oh fuck.

"Goddammit, Sum, I hate when you're a good mom. It's sexy as hell."

"Stop trying to distract me."

Her wrist. It needed to be twisted. It was a wire— one with a purpose, a spring uncoiled— she needed to twist it. Broken arm or not, she needed to feel it.

"Well, maybe if I distracted you that would distract me from unleashing deserv'ed hell upon our loinspawn."

"You're acting weird to seem less threatening."

The muscles. The tendons. They needed to move. They needed to twist and strain. She couldn't hold the need down. It was going to hurt— it was going to hurt more than anything in her life but she needed to—

"Is it working?"

"Would you really lay off Ruby?"

Ruby bit her lip and looked away.

She needed to twist it.

"Oh, definitely."

"God, you're like a rabbit. Fine. Just… okay, the hall's empty. But don't—"

Ruby wrenched her left arm inside its cast as hard as she could, hoping that one big stimulation would be like ripping off a bandage, getting all the itching muscles at once. There was no flash of relief as Ruby released the tic. Just pain.

Ruby screamed. She screamed until her lungs were squeezed dry, then she screamed a little longer, as if she could siphon the air from her hollow bones and turn it into pure cacophony of anguish. She wasn't sure if she ever stopped screaming, because at some point she blacked out.

When Ruby opened her eyes again, she felt amazing.

There was a doctor at her side, leaning over and checking something, and her mom and mum were at the other side. Mum was sitting, holding her right hand. Mom was standing, holding her arms across her chest— she probably thought it looked super cool and flippant to stand like that, especially when her kid almost died, as if the whole wide world could be bungered and she'd just stand there… in style.

"Hahghah, mommmm," Ruby drawled at her mother. "Yerso… hahah… yer like a… coolguy."

Raven met her eyes, uncrossing her feathered arms. She looked at Ruby, like… really sad. Which meant Ruby was on heavy painkillers, because she was definitely tripping if her mom was anything but super cool and badass. "Ruby…"

Her voice warbled against Ruby's senses, washing into her ears like water, a nice gentle sound Ruby had never heard before. She needed to make the sound herself.

"Ruuuuuuubyyyyy," she attempted. "Ruby," she tried more huskily. "Roo-bee," she whispered, getting closer, the sound almost perfectly slotting into her throat— she could feel it, somewhere between 'Ruby' and 'Roo-bee.' "Ruby. Ruby. Ruby. Ru-by, Ru-bee. Ru-u-by."

Ruby sighed contentedly. That got it.

There was a little movement in her peripheral— the doctor, looking curiously between Ruby and her mothers.

"Tic disorder," mom explained.

"Gilles' Syndrome," mum politely corrected.

The doctor hummed easily. He said some things, but Ruby didn't really listen, and he was out of the room a couple minutes later.

"Baby," mum doted, stroking the back of Ruby's hand under her thumb. "Petal, what happened?"

Ruby smiled at the affection. "Robbers came'n'I kick their ass-ses. Super cool. Mom shoulda seenit." She turned her eyes to Raven. "You woulda been s'proud."

Raven looked down at Summer, seeking something, and getting back what looked like a warning glare from mum. Ruby laughed. For the strong facade Raven always put forward, Summer cowed her so easily. Cowed.

"Moo," went Ruby. Then, "Moo-ooooo!" because that was the sound cows made, and it only felt right for her to do it too. Summer gave her daughter a look of betrayal before she was dragged into mooing too, while Raven watched her wife and child tic out as one.

The feedback loop didn't last as long as it usually did, with Ruby feeling satisfied even before her mother finished her bovine symphony.

"Mooooo," Summer continued.

Raven rolled her eyes and asked: "So, what actually happened?"

"Mooooo," Summer repeated, getting visibly annoyed.

Ruby craned her neck up, straining the muscle to override her mother's infectious mooing. "'Slike I said, ma. Robbers. I beat'emup."

Summer snapped her fingers hard, helping her switch out of her mooing and changing it into a decisive burst of 'God fucks sluts' that resolved much quicker.

Raven hummed. "You won?"

Ruby rolled her head around, enjoying how nothing her brain felt as it swam in her skull. "Yeeeeeahhhhh, kinda, yeah, I guess, yeah."

"So… yes?"

"Yeah," Ruby confirmed. "Mostly."

Raven's weirdly soft expression took an edge, but not as sharp as it usually was. "Mostly?"

Ruby nodded, blabbing, "Yeah I killed Torshwink's guys an'then I tried ta gettim but'e ran away-away oh and my arm broke but I chasedim down'n'den I died."

Summer jolted. "Ruby! You killed—"

Raven barked out a laugh. "You made Roman Torchwick turn tail like a bitch? Nice."

Summer punched the other woman's shoulder and continued, "Why in the hell did you ever think it would be okay to kill someone?"

Ruby, still very high, cocked her head at her mother. "Git stabbin' 'r git dyin', remem-member? 'Sjuslike mom said."

Summer's entire face seemed to deliquesce into disappointment, but the moment was brief as a set of sharp knocks struck their door. Raven and Summer were immediately crowding the threshold and opening it, seeing who had the gall to disturb their wounded child.

"Omigod, Oz—"

"Die, fucker."

Raven attempted to slam the door, but a foot got caught in the middle.

"Oz, if you don't leave now I'm going to fucking eat you."

"Rae!" Summer chastised. "Let him in, he probably wants to… y'know… with… y'know."

"Oh, mysteriously recruit my darling girl who's currently too hopped up on painkillers to consent to much of anything? Yeah, Sum, great idea."

"Well, when you put it like that—"

A new voice said: "Full ride."

Summer's voice did another 180. "Yep! Yep, that's it. Full ride. Hear that?"

"Not right now."

"My baby's gonna get into Beacon!"

"She can decide once she's out of the hospital."

"Decide? What's there to decide, Rae? It's Beacon! Of course she's going!"

"Not. Right. Now."

"You have a better idea for her future?" Summer now seethed. "You should be groveling after what you did with her tuition money!"

Raven said nothing, but Ruby could see the shame on her shoulders.

The new voice said: "I'll give you two a moment."

"No!" Summer blurted. "No. No, go ahead and talk to her. You already know what the answer's gonna be."

Summer looked up at her wife and tugged her arm, walking the two of them out of the room with little more than a smiling glance at her daughter. It really hurt to see her go like that, which was weird, since squishy things like that usually never hurt Ruby.

From the space her moms had occupied, a guy stepped through. Not, like, a guy-guy— not one of the guys from whom she may or may not have made a fair few orphans— but a regular guy. A dude, even, black-suited but not villainously cramping her style— it was impossible to be villainous with white hair like he had, as everyone knew, and the cane + mug combo did wonders for knocking any concepts of potential moral ambiguity right out of Ruby's silly little head. This was 100% someone she could trust, and 100% someone she would not regret making agreements with while under the influence of painkillers. In short, super trustworthy guy.

He also came in with Glynda Goodwitch, which really helped. It wasn't often you get to see one of your heroes in the flesh.

The gears in Ruby's head, which had so blissfully been ground to a halt by the painkillers, suddenly slipped. The realizations came in bursts as the cogs came loose, teeth slipping, then caught again. Glynda Goodwitch was here, in Ruby's hospital room. She was here with a man. A man who, for all intents and purposes, looked astute and scholarly— downright deanlike, what with the forest-green cravat thing…

Forest-green…

Oh man.

Oh jeez.

"Oh jeez," Ruby said quietly. "Oh man. Yer, like…"

Headmaster Ozpin, Dean of the Beacon Hunters' Academy, leaned uncomfortably close to Ruby, staring into her eyes so hard that she feared he was trying to initiate some kind of corneal handshake.

"My, my," he mused thoughtfully. "What big eyes you have."

Ruby, still high out of her g-darn mind, stupidly said: "Allthuh better t'see ya with?"

Ozpin was too close for Ruby to see his mouth, but she could see the smile quirking his eyes. "And silver, just like your mother. Perfect."

Ruby blinked her big, silver eyes. "Whuh?"

Glynda Goodwitch, Ruby's hero in her dreams and real life, roughly pulled Ozpin back by the shoulder. "Sir," she sternly admonished. "This is why all the female students call you creepy."

Ozpin rolled his eyes. "Of course. Right as usual, Glynda."

Goodwitch went red. "Sir! Formality, at least in front of the student!"

Ozpin waved her off. "Oh, look at her. She probably doesn't even know her own name, much less what we're saying."

"Rrr-Ruby Rose!" Ruby reported, her words slurring confidently. "Barnewenarn— no, nono, wai… Burr…rawn…wen. Bur-ran-wen… Rose. Like a… con… function. Junk-shun. Frick."

Ozpin laughed aloud, then took a deep draught from his mug. When he lowered it again, he had a chocolate-colored mustache. He handed the mug back to Goodwitch. "Glyn, you sexy thang, get daddy some more sip."

Goodwitch visibly cringed into a singularity, taking the mug like it was a piece of roadkill. "I'm going to burn your school once you die," she promised. "Just for that. I swear."

"I can't wait," Ozpin said, his grin immobile. As soon as Glynda reluctantly made her exit from the room, he returned his kinda-creepy smile to Ruby. "Well then, Miss Rose— Branwen? Branwen-Rose?"

"Brose," Ruby said stupidly, shaking her head. "Rose."

"Then, Miss Rose—"

"Brawnen-Rose!" Ruby re-decided, feeling distinctly unsafe and hoping that the invocation of both her moms' names would protect her. "Barnowl-Rose."

"Branwen-Rose?"

Ruby nodded.

"Miss Branwen-Rose? Safe to presume?"

Ruby shrugged. "Shurigess."

Ozpin chuckled again. "So, incapacitating nine armed gang members, killing two, severely wounding infamous mafioso Roman Torchwick, is that all a normal Tuesday night for you?"

Ruby blinked. "Ony… two?"

Ozpin raised an eyebrow. "'Only', huh? You are her daughter, I suppose… oh well. We can iron that out. Or… we'll figure something out." He waved his cane casually, unbothered by the topic of murder. "What say you come to my school?"

Ruby's jaw fell ajar. "Bacon?"

"Full ride," Ozpin said, smirking. "We'd love to have you."

"Buh… Zignul…"

Ozpin waved her off. "Miss Branwen-Rose, I'm the dean of the most influential Hunters' Academy in the world. I can pull some strings. How does that sound?"

Ruby cringed.

It… it didn't sound good. Even high as balls, it sounded bad. Sketchy. Too easy. And this guy was, like… an HR issue?

And worse, Ruby didn't…

Ruby looked around. Even internally admitting it, she was afraid of how her mothers would react, but they weren't there. It was just her and this guy.

Ruby didn't want to be a Huntress. Not really. Honestly, she wanted to go to a trade school or something, maybe get an engineering degree. Weapon-building was the only part of Signal she actually liked.

But her moms wanted her to go. They knew, regardless of all the ways she was screwed up, she'd be a great Huntress. She knew it too, she just didn't like it. She didn't like being penned in. She didn't like all the work. She didn't like getting hurt, passing out after every fight or spar, and Grimm were just icky.

Ruby didn't want to be a Huntress. Her moms did.

But this was a full ride to Beacon. This was her moms' dream. And Yang was already there, staying on campus over the summer— a freshman, too, just like Ruby would be. They might even have a team together.

She didn't want to, though. She wanted to put her foot down. She wanted to slur out a hundred 'No's and punch this weirdo.

"You don't want to disappoint your mothers, do you? Isn't this what everyone wants for you?"

Ruby blinked. Was that Ozpin's voice? Or was it in her head? He stared at her comfortingly, like he hadn't just said that, so it was herself, right? It had to be.

Mum wants her to be a great Huntress. Mom wants her to be a better Huntress than she is. Uncle Qrow wants her to be a Huntress (didn't he say 'for the bitches'?).

Yang wants her to be a Huntress; 'So you can watch my back,' she'd said, 'I suck ass lmao,' she'd added, pronouncing the acronym. 'Seriously, I've been here for, like, a day, and I broke a finger. I mean, it wasn't my finger, but a finger was broken. Rest assured.'

"Doesn't your uncle want this for you?"

Oh, right. This was happening. What had Uncle Tai said?

'Ruby, don't listen to your moms, they're idiots and they're psychos; I would know, I had a kid with one.'

'I mean, I love 'em to death, but you need a father figure.'

'Waiwaiwaiwait! No, not like that! For fucks sake, Rubes, I am literally bi! Oh don't give me that, you know I'm not being phobic, I'm being honest. You need a father figure because your mother figures are mutually enfuckled. Yes, enfuckled. Ha! Haha! Man, please bring that one to your mom. Well yeah, of course it's fucked up, but it's also super funny. Just imagine your mom blaring 'Enfuckled! Enfuckled!' in the kitchen— it's comedy gold!'

'Insensitive? What's insensitive about— Ow! Ow— ow! Ruby! Stop! Ow! Okay! I get it! Okay.'

'It's at least a little funny.'

'Fine! Sorry! It's not funny. There. Happy?'

'Jeez. Hollow bones, my ass.'

"Miss Branwen-Rose? An answer, please?"

No was all she should say. It was all she wanted to say. It was the only thing that made sense.

"Ah… hahaha… o'course!" Said Ruby (Branwen) Rose, high as a kite, definitely not in a state to make these decisions.

Ozpin reached into his pocket and extracted multiple thick envelopes, handing them to Ruby. "Perfect. This is your acceptance letter, a filled application you just need to sign, some waivers, and a release discharging you to our on-campus medical facilities. An airship will pick you up tomorrow, I'll inform your mothers." He stood up sharply, patting himself off. All mirth melted from his stone face. "Welcome to Beacon, Ruby."

He gave her a nod. Ruby laid in the hospital bed and watched him go.

After a few minutes, Ruby said: "Wait."

Nobody heard her. They discharged her the next day.

Ruby scratched her talons on the metal tile of the airship, creating an awful noise that she had to ignore. She was stressed. She was anxious. Her left arm was in a sling, her Aura having fused the bone back together already, but she kept scratching the floor, snapping her fingers, and making sharp noises in her throat to keep her brain from drifting towards that arm. Twisting it again wouldn't be as bad as last time, but it would still hurt like hell.

She kept scratching the metal floor of the airship. She snapped the middle and ring fingers of her right hand in rolling succession. She looked out the window to hide the flexing of her jaw.

"Ruby?" Yang said from beside her, having apparently broken onto the airship once she learned her sister had been injured. "You're ticcing out. Did something set you off?"

"No," Ruby lied, then rumbled a sharp noise in the back of her throat— rather like a raven's caw, unfortunately, which she didn't like doing, but it was a very consistent tic; she got it from a racist bully whose cheekbone she'd broken her fist on, so the implications weren't exactly pleasant.

Yang eyed her suspiciously. "Ruby, talk to me."

'I want to go home'; 'I don't want to be a Huntress'; 'I'm sorry, I can't do this'; 'My arm hurts'; 'The weirdo creep of a Headmaster coerced me into signing the entry forms while I was under the influence of narcotic pain medication.'

"I'm fine," Ruby lied, hiding her face as she loudly cawed again. "I'm just worried. Can't— caw!— make friends like— caw!— this."

Yang gave her a look that, to Ruby's infinite adoration of her incredible and somehow normal sister, was not pitying, but understanding. Caring. "That makes sense, but hey!" She slung an arm around Ruby's shoulders and splayed her other arm out towards the passengers. "Lookit all these people!"

Ruby curdled at how many eyes could be on her if she got loud, slamming her teeth shut as she cawed into her mouth.

"At least half of 'em are huge weirdos, Ruby, I promise," Yang said. "Like, weirder than you, which really isn't saying much because you're not that weird."

Ruby frowned at her sister's flattery, then looked down at her arms. The feathers— preened to black and maroon perfection— fanned out from her forearms, tapering into smaller feathers that she could fit under her sleeves as they went up, leaving the inside and underside of each arm bare. They hung low at her wrists, reaching nearly mid-thigh when she had her arms folded around her middle.

Her legs were as raven-y as they could be, each of her four clawed talons nearly as long as her forearm, the scuta of each leg shining as black scales that crawled up each digitigrade leg, only starting to fade into human flesh above her knees. They didn't really make pants cheaply for people like her— Faunus inconvenienced by some of their traits— so she was restricted to shorts (showed off too much leg to be comfy) and long skirts (lame, made her look like a librarian) since her digitigrade legs had a tendency to make anything shorter ride up in weird ways.

Ooh,maybe skorts… she'd have to try that when she had money. For the moment, she was stuck with something that she hated to wear so well, and hoped desperately that nobody would recognize: her old Second Archivist cassock.

She'd scrapped any identifying religious marks— things such as the cravat and the Archivist Cruxes— so it was basically just a one-piece, black dress with a sharp (kinda too small) top, long sleeves rolled up past her elbows, and a long skirt that almost fully covered her legs, though the back sometimes hitched up on her extended ankles. She kept her old sash around her waist to give her some figure, though that part did have some more obscure Archivist symbolism on the hanging front end (a scythe, a tome, wheat, and runes in thin white needlework), but she was okay with that. More okay, at least.

Her reflection had looked cool. She even put on some eyeliner for the occasion, hoping to match the cassock to a more goth look than a church-kid look, but now she was here. Standing in the airship to Beacon. In a cassock. Scratching the floor with her bird-leg. She had never felt less cool, nor had she ever felt more distinctly weird.

Ruby scoffed into a caw, then shook her head with frustration. "Look at me," she mumbled. "I'm so lame."

Really, she hadn't had a self-image problem before— she was freaking out because of the circumstances— but now she definitely had a self-image problem.

Yang snorted. "I think you look sick, dude. Honestly— like, genuinely, and you know I wouldn't say that if I didn't mean it."

Ruby looked up at her sister and cawed. Yang had such an honest face, she always did, so disbelieving her was impossible. Even for this. "Whatever," Ruby conceded, turning her eyes away. "I'm still weird."

"I mean, yeah," Yang agreed obviously. "Dude, we're all weird. Normal people don't become Hunters."

Before Ruby could stiffen in disbelief, Yang jostled her and pointed across the airship's bay. "Oh, see that guy? Tall, blonde, n' scraggly?"

Ruby did indeed see a guy, and indeed he was tall, blond, and scraggly. She nodded.

Yang pushed her, nearly making Ruby fall completely onto face if not for her springy legs. Catching herself, Ruby glared at her sister.

"Just say hi!" Yang stage-whispered. "You are way cooler than him, it's an easy clap!"

Ruby looked back at the guy, then her sister, a rejection on her lips.

Yang was gone.

Ruby cawed nervously, her feet scraping the floor. She nearly wrung out her left wrist, instead pulling that shoulder back until it hurt and furiously snapping with her right hand. She breathed in deep.

Way cooler. Easy clap. What would Uncle Tai say?

'Dude, you are, like, the coolest person I know, which, yes, that is a weird thing to say to a kid, but I consider you more of a daughter than a niece. Seriously. Yeah.'

'Aw, kid, I love you too. Man… thanks. Shut up! I'm not crying! I am a grown ass man!'

'But… but seriously, you're awesome. The feathers are cool as hell. The claws are wicked. You're either gonna find a really nice Faunus, or an absolutely wild human.'

'Ha! Yeah! And she pulled two absolutely-wild humans!'

'Hey! Take that back!'

Cool. Awesome. Wicked. Ruby plotted

Guys: 1. Weapons: 1, or 1.5? Does the shield count? Disposition: oh crap he looks sick as hell— and not like Yang says she does, like sea-sick, green around the gills, dry-heaving over a trash can. Affiliation: Beacon Hunters' Academy. Lameness: unfathomably high.

Rubys: despite her best efforts, still damnably singular; she'd figure out cloning one of these days; or something. Weapons: 1, technically. Disposition: actively ticcing, anxious, insecure, quickly forgetting how language works. Affiliation: (Unwillingly) Beacon Hunters' Academy. Lameness: fathomably high.

Predicted outcome: mutual spontaneous combustion, hopefully, cuz this guy looked like he could use a good exploding, too.

Ruby's claws went tchk-tchk with each step, her gait a nervous, bouncing stride until she stood before the tall, blonde, scraggly guy. He looked up pathetically from the trash can he had collapsed over, groaning, "Hmmuh?"

Feeling a surge of nerves, Ruby cawed.

The guy's sickness was overrun by confusion. "C— caw?"

Ruby flexed her jaw, suppressing another sympathetic caw. "H-hi!" she ground out through her teeth. "I'm Ruby!"

The guy blinked. "Uh… hi, Ruby. I'm—" he retched, doubling back over the trash can and dry heaving unproductively. When he turned back to her, he was panting, his voice pathetically nasal. "Trying to vomit."

Ruby cringed, which let another caw out, this one uncoiling loudly from her throat in retaliation for its suppression. "S-sorr— caw!— sorry."

The guy rested his head on the rim of the trash can, extending one limp hand towards her. "Jaune," he stated. "Arc. Short, sweet, rolls off the to-ouuh-uuerk—" Defeatedly keeping his hand out, he failed to vomit into the receptacle again.

Ruby cringed away from the limb that'd been gripping a trash can for who-knows how long. Jaune scowled at his own hand, seeming to understand this.

"Sorry. I, uh… I've never really been on an airship before," Jaune apologized. "It's… hurk…"

Watching him continuously heave into the can, Ruby felt a little better. Was it because she knew she wasn't at the bottom-bottom of the totem pole? Yes. Was that messed up? Totally. Such is life. "You're wearing armor," Ruby pointed out.

Jaune nodded. "Yep. Family— huegh, oh god— heirloom."

Noticing a few rust spots along the edges of his chestplate, she couldn't help but say: "Yep. Looks like it."

Which was a mean thing to say! Come on, Ruby cut the snark!

Jaune snorted, side-eyeing her. "Says the one wearing a… is that a smock?"

Relief flooded Ruby, an intense wave of reward chemicals filtering into her brain-matter as she passed the cheeky-or-asshole test. "It's a cassock, thankyouverymuch."

Jaune squinted at her, still very much pale and sickly. "Is that… are you a Second Archivist?"

Ruby scowled, shaking her head. "Not anymore, I just wore this for…" she lifted one birdy leg. "Convenience. And it looks cool."

Jaune stared at her bird-leg. "Huh. You've got bird legs. You're a Faunus?"

Ruby waggled her arms, shaking the feathers that should've been obvious with her sleeves rolled up. "What'd you think these were from?"

"Uh… cosplay?"

Ruby rolled her eyes. "You're a dumbass."

Jaune looked up at her. Ruby realized what she'd said.

"S-sorry," she said nervously. "I don't usually—"

Ruby was jerked into a big, warm body, familiar and muscular. "Heeeeey, sis!" Yang cheered. "Woah, you made a friend! Nice to meetcha!"

Yang extended a hand. Jaune shifted off the trash can to shake it.

"I'm Yang! Nice to meet—"

Jaune vomited all over her shoes.