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Requested by : Polemoduke

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Qrow grunted as he stepped on a loose rock in the mountain path and stumbled, kicking it away with a swear and yanking his flask out in the same motion. It was overcast and cold enough that he had his cloak tucked close around him, but at least it was quiet. Just the three of them walking, leading the caravan through a close-grown section of forest towards the last stop on their trip - a little logging town out in the sticks, before they headed for a bigger settlement to part ways with the caravan. And get paid, of course - just in time for a nice town bar.

It was a great way to end the trip.

Too great…

"So…" His niece began, walking a couple yards ahead of him and off to one side.

"So?" Her partner - at least for the trip - asked from a yard and some to her left.

"H-Hypothetically…"

"Oh, Gods…" Qrow mumbled into his drink, turning a look skyward. "Why have you forsaken me?"

Of course, he was one of the handful that actually knew why…

The bastards.

"Hypothetically?"

"Do you… Like movies, or dinner?" Ruby asked, "Maybe arcades? Or are those too noisy?"

"For…?"

"Hanging out, going out on your own, d-dates…" His niece oh so incredibly subtly explained, shrugging and adjusting Crescent Rose over her chest. "Ya know- Stuff an' junk."

"This isn't happening…" He sighed, slowing just a bit and staring up at the sky even more, as if now the gods would send him help. Or smite him. He wasn't feeling particularly picky, just then.

"Well…" Little Miss Invincible sighed, flicking Ruby and - more subtly, though Qrow was far too experienced at all of this to miss it - Qrow as well before she turned back to watching the woods and went on quietly. And, he was sure she thought, innocently, too, "I went out often enough, for business events and the like, with my agent and family. And advertisement agents, too, of course. We typically had dinners, though one took me to see movies once or twice. I have never been to an arcade, though…"

"Hypothetically… Would you like to go to one?"

"Why?" The Mistralian chuckled, "Do you know a good one."

"I know a few…"

"Then perhaps we should visit one." Nikos hummed, "As a team. Hypothetically."

"Y-Yeah…" The most obvious teenager on Remnant stammered. "Sounds, uh, fun. Right?"

"Mhm."

"And, uh, hypothetically… And asking for a friend!" His niece squawked, "Do you like girls or, uh guys? H-Hypothetically."

"Why do you ask?"

"F-For a friend!"

"Indeed…"

Qrow slowed another step, his cringe warring with his internal desire to let Ruby have the space she needed. She was nearly an adult by now, and he wanted her to have a good life. So he had to let her have the space. And besides, it wasn't like she was being a little rebel, running after the biggest bad boy- Well, bad girl she could find. So he smiled and let it happen, as cringe-worthy as it all was, and stayed back and quiet.

A twig snapped under his foot… And then a second under the other.

"Yeah." Ruby chuckled weakly, "He was just, you know, curious."

"And do I know this friend…?"

"No!" Ruby nearly squawked while Qrow stepped on another stick that snapped loudly under his foot, "He's, uh, from Signal! Yeah."

"Indeed…" Nikos murmured, letting the silence hang just long enough for Qrow to step on another dry stick and wince before she finally shrugged and answered. "I'm ambivalent on the matter, really."

"Yeah…?"

"Mhm. Though…" Nikos shot the girl a look and frowned just a bit, "I do dislike strangers who think that they know me well enough to have feelings for me. So do warn your friend off, hmm? I prefer people I know rather well when it comes to any kind of relationship."

"R-Right…" A twig snapped and Qrow sighed, watching Ruby take the wrong message and fighting the urge to say something.

Before he stepped on a huge stick and it cracked and made him stumble. He nearly fell before he caught himself and swore, "Son of a bandit whore!"

"E-Excuse me…?" Nikos blinked, turning to him with wide eyes. Nervous eyes, too, he realised.

"Nothing, nothing, just… Talking about myself!" He grunted, taking a drink from his flask and kicking the stick away pointedly.

"Don't you mean to yourself…?"

"Sure, Rubes. Sure." He sighed, looking past them as a long, lanky leg stepped into the path and two clusters of four crimson eyes glared out at them from the shade. The spider was horse-sized, and mostly unarmored aside from its disgusting head, but Qrow had never been happier to see it. Pointing, he called out, "Oh hey! Look! A distraction that needs shooting!"

Ruby spotted it and shot off, whooping excitedly while Pyrrha rolled her eyes good-naturedly and followed after her.

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"I suck at this, you know…"

"You are just as capable as your sister, I'm sure."

"Ruby is a markswoman…"

"And these are cardboard targets on a little wheel." Ren smiled, "Not Beowolves. So, I am sure you are just as capable as she is."

"Uh huh…" She sighed, lifting the little Dust-pellet gun and turning as the little fake Ursa started rolling across the wooden backdrop, peppy music playing from the game's cheap little carnival speakers. It wasn't even that hard of a game, she was sure. But every time she lined up the little pop-rifle on one of the targets it seemed to yank out of the way, though.

"Five points out of fifteen." The bored worker chirped, leaning against the counter in the shade of a little hanging cloth. "Not bad, but… Ain't you a Huntress?"

"I hit things!" Yang scoffed, laying the rifle down and sighing. "See? I suck at this."

"You're not used to it." Ren corrected her, picking the rifle back up and handing it to her. "And your posture shows it."

"My posture…?"

"Take it. I'll help." He grunted, slipping behind her when she did. Hands on her shoulders, he pushed her down a bit until she was halfway to kneeling, leaning forward just the tiniest bit. Grabbing her hands, he adjusted her grip further up the stock and down along the pistol grip and tapped the side of her ribs. "Mind your breathing. It's like fighting - if you know you're going to get hit-"

"Breathe out, so you don't get it knocked out of you." She nodded, very aware of how close he was to her, back to back and with his arms around her, correcting her aim, until he slipped around her and smiled warmly.

"This isn't a real gun." Ren shrugged, folding his hands in front of himself, "But the fundamentals are the same. Take your time, land your shots- Speed comes later."

"Right…" This time, she managed ten targets out of the fifteen before the timer went off and Yang smiled, lowering the pop-gun. "Better."

"Indeed." Ren nodded, "If you like, we can get a rifle. We'll go hunting together."

"Hunting," Yang cocked her head, "or Hunting."

"Deer, rabbit, the like." Ren shrugged, flicking her a look. "Assuming you don't mind hunting animals…"

"Nah." She waved him off, taking the handful of prize tickets the game-runer handed her before she turned to head back into carnival grounds, already full of people come for the games and the stalls further in towards Beacon. "If I had a problem with hunting meat, I wouldn't feel like I had the right to eat it, ya know?"

"Some would argue that the act of farming and raising animals makes it a different thing to pursuing them in their own homes."

"Eh." She shrugged, "I guess that's fair, but… I mean, isn't it more natural to work for it like that?"

"As natural as using a high powered rifle to kill a deer from twenty yards or so and using a metal knife to skin and gut it can be?" Ren smiled sardonically, "Yes. It's a bit more natural, in my mind, at least."

She just shrugged, eyeing some funnel-cake stands as they walked by. It was empty junk, but… Gods, it smelled good. Cocking a hip she asked, "Hungry?"

"Not terribly." He smiled, "But I can tell you are. So by all means."

Yang just rolled her eyes.

The funnel-cake stand wasn't anything special, crammed in at the end with only a few spaces for stools out in front of it, and a tiny counter to eat at. But it was relatively empty. Which was something her time with Blake, and the bastards around Beacon, immediately connected with the Faunus woman working it. And Yang honestly wasn't sure whether she liked that she noticed that or not. Still, she felt a bit better when they sat and the girl running it brightened just a bit.

"How can I help you?"

"Two…?" She turned and Ren nodded, "Yeah, two funnel cakes, medium, and a couple of orange colas."

"Coming right up, thanks." She smiled, turning to head into the cooking area in the back, separated by a thin wall and a curtain for a door.

"So…" Yang started while they waited, preferring to talk about anything rather than sit in the quiet - or, well, aside from the dull roar of the crowd around them at least - and think about his instruction at the shooting game. "You big on hunting?"

"Hunting," Ren smiled, "or Hunting?"

"Oh, he thinks he's cute, does he?"

"You don't think I am?" He smiled thinly, cocking his head and raising an eyebrow as he pressed a hand to is heart. "You wound me, Yang. And here I thought we were having such a good time together…"

"Oh he thinks he's clever too." Yang rolled her eyes, only just managing not to fall for the little trick. She'd learned pretty quickly that, when he wanted to be, Ren was downright conniving with his sarcasm. More seriously, she said, "If this is one of those 'things I don't want to talk about' things, that's fine."

"It isn't. I was only teasing." He smiled, "As to the question… I don't overly enjoy it or dislike it. But, growing up, trapping and hunting and fishing were useful sources of food. And Lien, too, when we got lucky."

"Yeah?"

"Hides and bones have uses in the frontier." Ren explained simply, "Uses we were unable to make use of, like tanning. Or had no need of, often enough. Like traditional medicines, trophies or long-cook broths."

"Long-cook broths…?"

"Season some water, get the heat high, add bones." Ren explained simply, turning to watch a handful of children run by, laughing excitedly and brightly. "You can add herbs, fat, oils, whatever you like for more flavor. Or even medical advantages, in some ways. You boil it for days to render out the marrow and much of the bone into a rich, thick broth you can store and use to flavor stews later."

"That sounds useful…"

"It is." Ren nodded, "But, like I said, it takes days. And days of concentrated work, too. We didn't have the time to spare watching a fire and a pot."

"Fair." They were cut off by the server coming back, laying a couple little foam plates with little lids attached on the table next to a couple medium sized cups. Smiling, the waitress headed to the corner to give them space - even that would make it hard to hear them, with the crowds - and Yang popped her box open to ask. "Do you ever miss it?"

"What about it would I miss…?"

"The open road and air." Yang shrugged, "The freedom?"

"Perhaps there was some of that…" Ren sighed, falling silent for a long while to chew on a bit of funnel cake and stare at nothing in particular. That was something else Yang had been getting used to, though. Ren was a thinker. And when he started thinking, he did a lot of it, and for a while. As ever, though, he finally nodded and said, "Maybe part of me misses the better parts of that life, but… There was a lot of pain, too. And I'm glad not to have to put myself or Nora through it anymore."

"You'll get a better go of it as Hunters." Yang smiled, "Right?"

"Perhaps…" Ren shrugged, flicking her a look, "That's why you want to be one, isn't it? The thrills."

"A lot of it, sure." She shrugged, "I've told you about… Most of the rest."

"Most…?"

"It's…" She thought for a long second, considering what to say, before she sighed. "It's complicated. Or, not really, but-"

"If you have secrets-"

"No, no, it's-" She sighed, ripping off a hunk of funnel cake like it was the one that had agitated her somehow. Gnawing on it, she finally said, "Family stuff. Mom- My birth mom, I mean, she ran out on us a bit after I was born. Part of me is kinda hoping to find her, somewhere out there. Ask her why. And yeah, riding Bumblebee 'round and knocking Grimm around just sounds fun. Helps people, too, so…"

"Admirable goals." Ren smiled, "But for now, maybe you should focus on something more achievable. Like shooting straight."

"You," Yang smiled, "are an ass."

But one that knew how to warm up a moment, apparently.

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"I just don't think it's proper for you to have armed security here, in a festival." The woman went on, smoothing her dark brown hair back behind her head and glowering intensely. The woman was older, just a bit past middle-aged, and dressed in a nice, dark red dress that Blake would not tell her went with her dark hair and pale skin to make her look like a vampire.

"Since when do animals know what's proper, mum?" Winchester rumbled, leaning against one of the barricades beside her with his arms crossed.

"It's for security." Blake tried to argue, conscious of the woman appraising the black fold-over robes her father had given her to wear. It was traditional wear, after all, and her booth was meant to expose people to her people's traditions. Smiling widely, and just as aware of everyone else watching them, she explained, "Some people do not enjoy sharing space with others, and so we paid for additional security to ensure things went smoothly."

"Aye." The guard standing on the woman's other side grunted, adjusting the grip on his heavy plastic riot shield meaningfully. "An' we do our jobs, too."

"Are you threatening me, Sir?"

"Nah." He smiled toothily under the heavy Atlesian helmet, which, with the shield, did not bring up good memories for Blake. He turned to watch the crowd and explained, "Reassurin' ya. If anyone tries to do somethin' about Missus Belladonna here, and you're here chattin', we'll protect ya."

"My mum doesn't need protection from you, animal wrangler."

"You…" The man sneered, stepping closer when Cardin stepped towards him. "You best watch yourself, boy."

"Or what?" Cardin laughed, waving his smirking mother back while he spread his arms out in a challenge. "What are you gonna do about it? Bark at me? Maybe your little boss can hiss?"

"Roland…"

"I've got this, Boss Lady. Just-"

"Is there a problem here?" A voice boomed over them as a shadow seemed to swallow the Winchesters and Roland up. They all turned, looking up at her father, who towered over them with a soft glare and crossed, noticeably bare arms. The woman recognized him even if her son didn't, swearing his name like it was a curse and hiding behind her son.

And Roland, who looked very confused about that fact.

"I was just-"

"Winchester was just complaining about the security, dad." Blake cut him off, keeping an eye on Winchester's mother just long enough for her to register the words, confirm the relation - as if the name hadn't been enough - and pale a bit. "He and his mother were asking why we needed it for a cultural booth. And then she got a bit excited when she saw the banner display."

"Winchester… Winchester…" Her dad rumbled, tapping a finger on his bicep while he thought. Then he blinked, smiled and said, "Ah! You're Nikolaus' daughter! Aren't you?"

"Y-You knew my father…?"

"I was young, but I served in the Revolution, back in its closing years. Only… Five? Six years? It's hard to remember." Gently, he stepped around the young man and laid a hand on the woman's shoulder, nudging her into the booth and going on quietly as her wide-eyed, red-faced son followed and Blake turned to watch, curious about where it all was going. Inside, he turned to lean against the container holding the battered old flag and said, "I worked in the aid corps. I wasn't a medic, but… I helped move stuff around, and helped wounded move, too. These big hands of mine aren't so good at careful surgical work, you can imagine."

"I suppose…"

"What's the point, old man?"

"The point," her father rumbled, smiling in that patronizing, nonplussed way of his, "is that I met Nikolaus in one of them."

"Why would he be in a Faunus war camp?" Cardin sneered, shaking his head, "He fought against them. Until-"

"Until the skirmishes at Solland, in Southern Mistral, where he lost two fingers to a grenade and was shot in the knee." Ghira rumbled, smiling when the two Winchesters both shut up pointedly. Nodding, the man sighed and said, "We won that area, as you recall. Did he really never tell you what happened to him after?"

"He escaped." Cardin said quietly, "Right, mom?"

"That's what he always told us, yes."

"A man with a shattered kneecap out ran a battalion of Faunus soldiers scouring the area?" Ghira smiled softly, "That is the story you believe?"

"Are you calling my grandpa a liar, you hairy-"

"Yes." Ghira rumbled, "I am."

The silence that followed was pregnant, and awkward enough even Blake felt bad for the Winchesters. They were racists, sure, and Cardin could take a long walk off a short pier for all she cared. But she could practically feel their world coming out from under them. Or a part of it, at least. It might not have seemed like a lot, but she knew Cardin was proud of his family and their history, as misplaced as that pride was. He wore the family cest on his chest for Remnant's sake.

Quietly, gently, Ghira explained, "He was captured, along with around… Forty? I think it was forty wounded soldiers left behind to buy time. A few fought, and were killed, but most were simply… Taken down by our vanguard coming in. Wounded soldiers don't tend to fare well against what were, more or less, Hunters, you understand."

"But why would you bother?" Cardin asked, "Animals don't get honor, so-"

"We do, actually, but it wasn't honor." Her father shrugged, unbothered by racism in the jaded, thick skinned way victims of it often were, "It was for prisoner trades. Your side had ours, we had yours, so occasionally we'd do big swaps. Your father was meant for one of those. We lost the ground, eventually, to a surprise attack. So he ended up being rescued by a force out of Atlas. Mantle. Eh, same difference, I suppose. Regardless, I was assigned to keep an eye on him."

"A guard?"

"In a sense." He answered the woman's question, "Also an aid, though. We put them up in tents in one area, surrounded by a palisade. Most of them couldn't even climb, with broken arms, legs, or what not. So guards were at the entrances. My job was to help him move when he needed to, keep him company, make sure he was healing properly. The like."

"So…" Cardin scoffed, but his voice sounded weak. "You were a nurse? Weak."

"What's up?" Nora asked, surprising Blake by pulling her back and sliding around in front of her to lean back into Blake's instinctive hug. Head resting on Blake's chest while Blake tried very hard not to ignore the hair tickling the bare skin just around her collar, Nora hummed and whispered, "Oh, Winchester? Want me to knock 'im out for you?"

"No." She smiled, wrapping her arm around Nora, sighing, and resting her chin on the shorter woman's shoulder. "Dad has it."

"-was a good conversationalist." Her father was saying when she paid more attention to him than Nora not very subtly trying to wiggle her head between her breasts. "It may have helped that my features are just my claws. And my hair, if you ask my wife. But, once a week or two passed and we'd dealt with his pain mostly… He was an outstanding debate partner."

"Debate?" Missus Winchester murmured, "Seriously?"

"Oh, he could get heated." Her dad laughed, "And loud… But once everyone knew we weren't going to kill each other? Some of the best days I had in the war. I'd always wondered, once we parted… Is he still…?"

"He died ten years ago…" The woman said quietly, "A heart attack, in his sleep."

"I see…" Her father rumbled, face twisting in sadness. "I am… Sorry to hear that."

"W-Why should you-"

"If you like, you can come to the manor sometime." The older woman offered gently, "See his grave."

"I… Would like that." He rumbled a sigh, straightening and clearing his throat, "Look at me, forgetting my job and getting lost in old stories! I meant to tell you about the banner, since you seemed curious about it and, funnily enough, Nikolaus had a hand in it?"

"What?!" Cardin choked, "H-He what?!"

"This banner is the first one I and my partners made, decades ago, young man." Her father smiled, "It's based on our regimental banner. But that one had the entire animal on it. And a wolf, at that. Your father said that was stupid to keep using."

"Why?" Blake asked, surprising herself.

"A wolf is a pack hunter, and shaggy-haired." Her father explained simply, "Nikolaus explained that a panther would be a sleeker, simpler design to make. And using just the head would lend a more regal appearance. He didn't know what I was designing it for, of course, but… I scarcely did myself. It was just an idea in my sketch-book."

"I'm not buying this shit!" Cardin finally broke, turning and storming out past them while his mother called his name.

"Ah." Her father rumbled a laugh, watching the woman vanish after him. "And there they go. Honestly, I'm surprised he lasted that long."

"I am, too." Blake chuckled, frowning just the tiniest bit when Nora pulled away from her. And then squawking when she turned and swept her legs out from under her, turning and grinning while Blake stammered, "N-Nora!"

"Mister Ghira!" Nora called, ignoring her, "I'm stealing Blake for her break!"

"Just have her back by nine!" He laughed, waving as Blake begged him for help with her eyes. Instead of helping, though, he just added, "And Blake, remember how to redo the folds on your robes before you come back!"

"Dad, no!" She squealed, catching his meaning immediately.

"Nora, yes!" Nora crowed, carrying her off and laughing while Blake pouted and crossed her arms. Smiling, Nora promised, "I'll buy you some fish in a bit, from the rice stall up a few rows."

"In a bit…?" Nora's smile widened and she paused to lean down and steal a quick kiss to answer Blake's question. Blushing, and ears flicking excitedly, she murmured, "F-Fine… In a bit."

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