#also there probably be another part just for academy and vale again

[imeriayapping]

First of probably five parts for

MotoGP grid as various rats and mice

In today's episode we have vr46 academy, enjoy!

[fall0utmind]

Medical leaks au

OMG

I'm speechless

This was absolutely amazing and I'll be awaiting the next part (and wishing for a happy ending for our Marc)

First of all

'His heart stops beating. The room goes dead silent. He can feel everyone’s eyes on him, his fellow riders watching in confusion. For Marc, it is like watching a train wreck in slow motion. He looks up and catches Alex’s wide-eyed stare. He's sweating, beads rolling down the side of his neck. Shit. Fucking shit. He’s starting to think he’s not going to make it out of this press conference in one piece, torn apart by the gnashing teeth of the media.'

This whole paragraph is just mind blowing

I love how you described the media being ruthless (especially since it's Marc's pov)

'He feels like someone has taken a sledgehammer to his facade, destroying everything he has made himself be'

Destroying everything he made himself be🫠and what if I kms

'Alex is the one person he would do anything for, he would walk through hell and back to protect him. He is the only one who truly knows what happened in 2015, who knows the extent of the demons in Marc’s brain. Now they will have to face them again'

yes yes yes, their bond is something from another planet, obv no secrets between them

They really only have themselves (esp on the grid)

'The other pilots probably think he is pathetic. He doesn’t think he can deal with another reason for the others to hate him. As much as he tries to rise above it, he loathes that his colleagues cannot bring themselves to like him'

and what if I kms x2

It's sad that he thinks that everyone hates him(and will hate him more for the attempts)

He is so isolated from the rest 😭(Vale when I catch you, you better crawl on your knees to make up for what you did)

'disgusted by the consequences of Vale's war on Marc?'

Marc, no😭 pecco is just worried (and prob feeling guilty for his mentor's actions)

I hope you will explore Marc's relations with the academy boys in the future

And maybe a Vale pov reaction to the news? pretty please 🥺🙏 (kind of want a pov reaction from pedrenzo and the vr46a too)

Anyway

I think you can tell I loved this fic,

Of course I'll def love any way you take this fic(so long as it has a happy ending)

I hope Marc gets therapy, and Vale, and then they go to couples counselling

This was quite long but oh well

BIG ASK

Haha this is so exciting that you guys have so many thoughts ans ideas from my writing???? Crazy to me

I'm so glad you like the para about the media being awful, o feel like it's such a big part of Marc's real life and it sucks so bad. They're so unfair to him.

Also I really wanted to play yp the idea that Marc is always marx yes but he puts on a bit of a persona for the world and that's all come crumbling down and he DOESNT KNOW WHAT TO DO.

Your comment about Vale made me giggle because a couple of people literally say something like that in the fic later.

I love pecco, I love the idea that he really cares and doesn't want to live with Vales hatred!!!!!

Yes yes yes to the VR46 boys x marx relationship. I'd love to do that. I also wanna do a little bit of their pov/ Vales pov. Maybe as a separate work??

I haven't decided how to make it functional yet lol.

Defo a happy ending!! Don't worry, I've got you on that. There's also going to be some hurt/comfort in the next chapter, it's gonna be like dani,Alex, Jorge, dovi protecting marc as he falls apart hehe

[moralchampion]

hey not hate to you at all, or to jorge/marc but marc has admitted that he didn't try to overtake jorge last week cause point didn't matter to him as much has they did to him...same thing diggia did to pecco today 🤷🏻‍♀️

Yeah, but the difference is that Marc has absolutely nothing to do with Ducati/the championship fight yet. He did the same as Dani Pedrosa in San Marino. Dani could have easily gotten past Pecco and snatched that podium and those points from him, but he didn't because he didn't wanna interfere in the championship. That's the same thing.

The difference is that Digi doesn't have a job for next year, and the only open spot, which he most definitely wants, is the VR46 one. Pecco isn't part of that team, but he's part of the VR46 academy. All under Valentino Rossi, who Uccio has said, is meant to make the decision. So why would Vale not use that to get another person to help his rider? Of course Vale wants Pecco to win it again and I'm sure he won't back down from helping it in any way possible (fair enough, his academy, his rider, all that).

For example, Bez not attacking Pecco didn't surprise me, they're obviously friends and it's fair enough that Bez wants to help him, probably pushed by the academy but also just because that's his best friend. Marc had no reason to not fight Jorge, he did it because he thought it was right to not interfere in the championship. If Digi were to think the same, why did he overtake Pecco in Qatar then? Those 5 extra points could have given him a nicer start to this weekend and probably given him the motivation to finish it off today

[ssarkosghost]

Arkos Week DAY 8 - Free Day

Ah the final day of @arkos-week-2022, firstly thanks to all you readers I really hoped you enjoyed what I wrote for the week 😁 . As for today I’ve gone for another AU setting, a more medieval world where our two soul once again meet for the first time(May do more of the verse eventually).

The Beacon’s Glory Masque, though perhaps not the grandest of court celebrations, was definitely the liveliest. It was the favor of the Protector Regent, Lord Ozpin the Unfathomable, who despite having a reputation for being distant, thoroughly enjoyed the vast swaths of color and merriment the event brought. It also provided the perfect opportunity for all of Vale’s social strata to gather tighter. Even the final part of the celebration, held within Beacon Castle itself which was often closed to only the most elite of the kingdom, found itself filled with guests invited by such individuals.

Hence why the Arcs found themselves being allowed into the castle. Once they did rank amongst those who could gain entrance to the Vale King’s keep. Their warrior ancestors helped forged the very kingdom they all now live in. Peace and abundance have reduced the need for such warrior families. Plus, the Arcs themselves have also settled for the farming life. Too much tragedy had dampened their family’s tendency to send their offspring to battle.

With such a loss they fell to relative obscurity, but their sacrifices were not to be forgotten. This is why Her Ladyship, Glynda Goodwitch the Unbowed, Supreme Magician of Vale, had extended the customary invitation to the final act of the night.

Jaune also assumed it had to do with his sister, Saffron, having recently managed to engage Lady Cotta. A minor Mistral noble that his sister had met during one of her ventures. It spoke about how Lord Ozpin had been trying to align at least parts of the Kingdom of Mistral so that Atlas, whose growing military might have worried some, would not have its old ally.

Thus, his sister’s engagement was perhaps an unexpected boon, and the Arcs' presence would help ease the Mistral delegation. Then again that could all just be speculation at this point. Greater people had tried to predict Lord Ozpin’s plans, and they have all failed to this point.

So, it was best to probably just enjoy to party, and perhaps he could see if he could again gain a recommendation to attend the capital’s knight academy. After all, even though most could guess who everyone was, it was custom to assume everyone was a mystery. It had its downsides for sure, but it allowed those in attendance to speak their thoughts without fear. Many a crisis had been adverted by the inciting individuals being able to air their issues in such a form.

Honestly, the ones he’d have to avoid would be his parents. His father would probably be the first Arc to die of old age and not of complications with wounds. A trend his mother full-heartedly agreed on starting. Which was exactly the opposite of his goal of becoming a knight of the realm. So, when the Arcs made their entrance, clad in their new cloths of yellow, with their mask simplistic depictions of the animals they now called their charges, Jaune, or Mane as his stage name was for the horse mask on his face, quickly made his way to slip into the crowd.

Sadly, as the night drew on, his quest seemed hopeless. Firstly, it turned out to be much more difficult to find those who could help him. Turns out many of the knights also preferred to dress in their civilian lives. Honestly, the only ones that stood out were Lady Goodwitch (who was friendly to his parents and posed too much of a risk) and Lord Brawen, though that was mostly due to said man’s current camping of the punch bowl at one of the tables. Which lead to his second issue, the few knights he did find often found his request hilarious. This was Vale, anyone could apply for the chance to attend the academy. Even the most helpful of the bunch a grey-clad man with a multi-eyed bird mask had asked why he didn’t simply ask his parents.

Jaune smiled ruefully at that. He didn’t need to ask his parent to gauge their reactions. He had seen it in their faces when in his youth he played knights in the fields. The looks had turned to words as he got older and his interest failed to wane. He knew his parents simply didn’t want to see him mauled on the battlefield, but over the year the steady attempts to discourage him had worn his trust in them.

So, it wasn’t surprising that after finding no help amongst the partiers Jaune decided to seclude himself on one of the private balconies outside of the hall. Here he could be out here with the stars. His ever-present companions when he needed space from his family. It was a clear night and the wind was gentle calming his racing mind.

“May I join you?” a soft voice, though their tone was far from timid. For a moment Jaune thought about saying no, but perhaps destiny had decided to smile on him.

“Sure, and you areeee,” his voice trailed as he was stuck with how beautiful the owner of the voice was. She was dressed in crimson and bronze, an outfit of silk and armor. Her mask was a decorative masterpiece of scales and feathers that formed a rainbow across her face, highlighting her bright green eyes. She giggled at his shocked expression before answering his question.

“Sir Nike, of the Kingdom of Mistral,” Nike introduced herself before asking for Jaune’s name. A moment of silence passed before Jaune realized she had asked in return, and tried to answer. Sadly, his mind was still hooked on her beauty and so his words were a jumbled mess. Nike gave him another bought of her laughter and simply pushed on to what he was doing out where.

“Ah just letting my thoughts drift,” Jaune sighed as he was brought back to his current problem.

“Oh…does it have something to do with attempting to attend Beacon’s Knight Academy?” Nike asked much to Jaune’s surprise.

“Ho—How?” he stammered; he would have remembered if he had talked to her before.

“You were rather loud with your last conversation,” Nike stated, their tone similar to when one of his sisters stated the obvious.

“Ah…well if you’re here to enjoy the story, I’m sorry to disappoint, but I will—”

“Oh, no no,” Nike cut in as she moved closer to Jaune, “I wanted to help,”

“How, no offense sir, but you’re a Mistal Knight, you don’t exactly have the authority,” Jaune pointed out, unsure just what was happening

“True, but I will be attending said academy myself, and I will need someone who is familiar with this kingdom’s ways,” Nike answered, partially confusing Jaune more.

“But you are already knighted and in Mistral your home,” he pressed, “what would you gain from attending our kingdom’s academy?”

“It is a test run,” Nike answered, her head next to Jaune’s, “my Queen has asked that a warrior of Mistral learn to see if Vale is still able to produce great warriors against the Grimm threat. So, what do you say?” Jaune had no idea what to think of this chance. Oh, sure he knows he was being used, but it’s still a chance.

“Sir Nike, I Mane of House Arc will accept your request to accompany you to the Beacon Knight Academy if you will have me,” he stated proffering a bow to his new benefactor.

“Very well Mane Scion of the Arcs,” Sir Nike replied, “I will notify the Lord Protector of this, and make sure your letter of acceptance is sent,” and with a bow, Sir Nike departed to ensure her word was kept. Deep down Pyrrha Nikos, Sir Nike’s real name was ecstatic. She would have to thank Sir Grey for pointing out Mane’s plight. She could see the determination in him and knew he would be an excellent partner to help her survive the incoming trial. She also smiled at how easy it was for the two to chat and hoped when the time came for them to truly meet, he would not change himself.

[radiantmists]

serious question: why isn’t ghira part of ozpin’s inner circle?

like, I guess you could argue that only the huntsman academies were relevant to the whole relic thing, not the government, but since the academies were being established at the same time as menagerie was, that’s not precisely an excuse, because why not have an academy on menagerie? as i’ve said, having four schools to hide four relics seems like an advertisement of where they were, and founding a fifth school would have added an element of confusion that might have thrown salem off for even longer. also, given that menagerie is (reportedly) infested with grimm, it makes sense to have a locus of hunters there.

moreover, if the headmasters also had the function of allowing ozpin to know and guide world politics to head off any of salem’s attempts to destabilize the world, the chieftain of menagerie ought to have been just as important a contact. and ghira is (supposedly) demonstrably committed to peaceful activism in the pursuit of unity, the exact sort of person ozpin would want on his side. maybe he avoids holders of elected positions because they change so often and he can’t influence their selection, but again, the fact that menagerie was the only major power he didnt ensure had some sort of advisory government position who could be in the know still makes this kinda sketch.

the role the faunus played in the great war is kinda unclear-- it must have been big for them to get menagerie, and they were their own force in at least one major campaign based on oobleck’s history class, though. based on the world of remnant episode it seems likely they supported the vale/vacuo side, given that the issues with mantle/mistral’s treatment of them were one of the tensions that led up to the war, so theoretically they should have been negotiating from a position of strength.

but it was oz as the king of vale who we’re told got to basically dictate the terms of the vytal treaty, and apparently what he dictated was the creation of menagerie on an island so hostile that it was likely expected to kill anyone who lived there, and a some kind of toothless requirement for legal equality for the faunus that didn’t stop any of the abuses that characters like ilia or adam faced.

maybe he couldn’t have stopped all faunus racism, but there’s also a hell of a lot more he could have done. especially the whole treatment of menagerie in the treaty really reads like he gave the smallest concession that would allow him to feel good about how he’d treated the faunus, and then completely dismissed them from thought; they aren’t even included in his grand plan to teach people to protect themselves from the grimm.

relatedly, something that I have seen talked about: why doesn’t menagerie have a CCT? like, maybe it wasn’t stable enough when the system was established, but having more seems like it could only help, however ‘poetic’ ozpin finds the engineering nightmare that is the whole internet going down if one tower fails. it’s just another example of how the faunus are just totally excluded from any of ozpin’s efforts to unify the world.

the modern faunus of rwby live under a society that at best doesn’t care about their struggles, a society that uses the grimm as justification for refusing to confront any issues with itself because resentment and conflict bring the grimm, and oz is the in-world founder of that society. from a watsonian perspective, there’s very little interpretation other than that he’s a racist-- probably an unconscious one, true, but one who over literally a century has shown minimal care for improving the situation of the faunus, the kind who plays lip service to being fair while in actuality treating minorities as an afterthought and making no real effort to ensure they’re not left behind.

This is especially absurd given that one of his theoretical goals is to unite people. If we’re being less charitable, it’s mildly plausible that ozpin doesn’t think of the faunus as part of the humanity that he’s been told to unite, and that in establishing menagerie he’s consciously left them to fend for themselves against salem. We don’t have any evidence that he’s ever been reincarnated as a faunus, and he literally predates their species, so it’s not unimaginable that he would view them as fundamentally separate from his version of humanity. i don’t think this was the intended reading but there isn’t actually that much to contradict it in his behavior.

Obviously from a doylist perspective, the reason for all this is that the writers are the kind of people who pay lip service to justice while in actuality treating minorities as an afterthought and making no real effort to ensure they’re not left behind, so when they were making oz create his ideal world as the king of vale, oz who’s supposed to be a paragon of virtue (if not perfect, at least fundamentally good), they didn’t bother to have him include the faunus in it. also the lore seems to have been reverse engineering the modern world they already had to a certain extent, so they were building on a flawed foundation.

I don’t know what the conclusion is here, I’ve just been thinking about racism in rwby and this was one expression of it that I haven’t seen commented on much.

[good-rwbyaus]

AU where instead of Jaune having a semblance that turns him into a harem protagonist, his semblance let’s him turn OTHER people into harem protagonists.

// Yes. Good. Time to suffer Blake. 8D - mod lilac

Title: JAUNE IM GOING TO KILL YOU

“You! You did this!”

Oh crap. The last person he wanted to see was here, and here he was still stuck in a hospital bed from the Battle of Beacon, unable to escape or run away. He couldn’t help sweating as the dark-haired faunus approached, hand pressed against her abdomen, and then leaned forward without doing anything.

For a moment, he hoped. And then the hands around his neck proved that hope was nothing more than a four letter word for lie. Immediately, the other girl started tightening her grip and shaking him against his bed, head banging against his pillow.  

“When I said it might be interesting to become a Ninjas of Love protagonist, I didn’t mean you using your Semblance on me in real life,” Blake screamed angrily, ��Do you know what sort of month I’ve had because of you?”

“Acck. Blake. I need to breath. Blake,” he said as he patted the other girls’ arms to mark his submission. He wasn’t actually getting hurt, but as he knew from living with seven older sisters, sometimes the feeling of getting revenge justice was enough.

Otherwise, if they don’t think you’ve suffered enough, that’s when your life gets miserable.

“I thought everyone around me was going crazy! Everyone proposing to me out of the blue,” Blake screamed, “And they were!” She loosened her grip on Jaune’s neck as she took deep breathes, “Then Pyrrha came to visit me, and since she still seemed sane, I told her what’s been happening to me. Guess what I found out. Apparently Jaune Arc has a semblance that turns people into harem protagonists!”

“What did I do to you to deserve this?!” Her hands twitched again as if ready to go for another round of strangle the blond.

His hands immediately went up to prevent such a thing from happening.

“Blake. If you choke me to death, this is going to keep happening.”

“Jaune. If you don’t stop it now, I will throttle you and then run home to Kuo Kuana.”

“It can’t be that bad. What, you got proposed to by three or four peopl-”

Blake’s eyebrow and ears began twitching.

“...I take it that’s not what happened.”

“Three or four?!”

“...Maybe you want to tell me what’s going on before you extend my hospital stay,” Jaune asked carefully. The girl glared at him before taking a deep breath.

"It all started with Sun...” 

=================

Sun:

“Hey Blake. I was thinking about you, and I got you this,” Sun smiled, rubbing his head sheepishly. An amethyst necklace, beautifully displaced inside a red package, laid in his other hand, shining brilliantly.

The sparkle - the shine - they caught her eye immediately. It glittered and caught her attention in a way that really tickled her, but she couldn’t help but glance at the package the necklace was in. And that dropped cold water onto her appreciation. She frowned. 

She lifted her gaze to meet Sun’s. 

“Sun?”

“Yes?” Sun asked excitedly. 

“Did you steal this?”

Sun averted his eyes as he continued speaking confidently. 

“Why I’d nev-” 

“The security tag is still on it.”

“-er think about giving you something I haven’t stolen myself.”

Blake just glared at the boy who quickly excused himself. 

=================

“I didn’t think much of it at first,” Blake said, “But random people started - out of the blue might I add - propositioning me while the Vytal Festival was going on - especially Shade Academy. I just thought they were an overly forward bunch cause they were part of the whole “live hard, live free” crew. ”

Blake stared darkly at Jaune, who just slid lower into his hospital bed.

“But then my team got involved.”

=================

Ruby and Yang

“Blake~”

“Blake!”

“Ruby? Yang?” she turned around for just a moment, only to be immediately accosted by the two sisters. Ruby hung to her right arm, and Yang hung onto her left arm. They spoke at nearly the same time. 

“You’re looking incredibly dashing today, Blake, “ Yang said with a wink. 

“You’re so pretty today,” Ruby said in awe, “That is not to say you’re not prett-” The awkward girl trailed off before finding a way to quickly change the subject.

“Stop copying me, Yang,” Ruby said with a pout.

“I said it first,” the other girl grinned.

Uhhh. What was going on? First Sun, then the random people, and now Ruby and Yang.

“So what about going on a ride with me and Bumblebee through the town?”

“No, Blake’s going to go with me to Vytal’s Weapons Exhibit, not on a boring ride with you.”

“What’s so great about looking at a bunch of old weapons?”

“You take that back! Can’t be any worse than just driving around boring Vale.”

“Wel-”

Maybe she should stop this before things get worse. 

“I already have plans - uh - to stay in Beacon and curl up near the fireplace and read an interesting book that I recently purchased,” Blake said carefully as she lightly twisted out of the sisters’ grips.

Ruby glanced over at Yang, and Yang at Ruby.

“Why does that sound really similar to the words you said to us on the first day we met?” Ruby said.

“Well, she was probably just saying that just to get rid of you.”

“No, she was telling you to go away. She liked me when we first met, “ Ruby said smugly as she pointed her thumb at herself. 

“Let’s ask then. Hey, who were you telling to g- No. I thought of a better question. Who do you like more, Ruby or me?”  

As a connoisseur of horrible romance novels, she knew that question was a horrible trap. She needed to use all her tactical skills to escape this situation.

Step 1. Stall.

“I-I-I like you both,” Blake stuttered out, already seeing the dissatisfaction on both girl’s faces.

“That’s a copou-”

“C’mon, Bla-”

Step 2. RUN.

She then created a clone to distract them as she crashed out of the nearby window. A pair of affronted screams could be heard as she ran for the treeline.

Sorry, clone. 

=================

“I’ve been camping in the Emerald Forest to avoid them,” Blake said frazzled, “Do you know what it’s like to be the subject of sisters trying to compete for affection?”

“Uhhh yeah,” Jaune laughed, “I have seven older sisters, you know.”

“Why would you do this to me then?”

“Ahaha. Sorry, but you were the one who expressed interest in the life of a harem protagonist.”

Blake’s gaze moving between his pillow and his face probably wasn’t a good sign. 

“Uhh. So that’s it?” Jaune said quickly.

“No! It affected my entire team!”

=================

Weiss:

“Uhhh Weiss. You didn’t have to prepare all this,” Blake said, not quite able to stop her drooling. In the middle of the Emerald Forest was a small seafood banquet, and to someone that had been living with her own subpar cooking skills for a week, it was a godsend. 

“It was my pleasure. It’s been a long time since we could just sit together like this,” Weiss said daintily, sipping her tea on the table she prepared, complete with cloth drapings. 

“Yeah, especially since Ruby and Yang seem to have gone insane.”

“How so?”

“The last time I went back to Beacon, Ruby tried feeding me her home cooking, and I nearly died from the taste. Yang taunted her because her own cooking was miles better, and now Ruby’s on a quest to improve her cooking and making me the taste tester.”

Weiss winced sympathetically before smiling. “Well, you’re here now. Just take a seat and just enjoy the food.”

“Thanks,” Blake said as she sat down, grabbing a couple dishes and devouring them as fast she could endure. 

It was then she felt a peculiar feeling against her calf. Thinking it was just a bug, she just swung her leg, and the sensation went away. 

But after a couple more seconds of dining, she felt it reappear - and it was now on her knee now. 

Immediately, she lifted her head from the dishes to stare at Weiss, who had an innocent smile on her face as though butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.

“Weiss?”

“Yes, Blake?”

“Is thaaaa...”

Warning bells started ringing in her head; that foot now on her thigh was reaching just a tad bit higher inch by inch. And immediately, she stood up, face burning like it’s been out of the sun.

“SorryWeissIrealizeIhavetogocatthefeedBye!” she spilled out in a panic as she ran like a Goliath was after her.

As she entered into the woods, her ears caught Weiss’s parting words.

“Wait Blak-. Does that mean Blake isn’t into this sort of stuff then?”

=================

“As it so happens,” Blake said rubbing the space between her brow, “a couple of my Ninjas of Love books have gone missing from underneath my bed mattress. The one with that dinner scene in particular.”

“Sounds like you read some really raunch-”

Blake slightly reddened and sent Jaune a glare.

“Uhh, sorry. So that’s gotta be it then.”

“No. Because guess who also has a sister?”

“Weiss has a sister?” 

Blake sighed.

=================

Winter:

“I wanted to see the girl who had my sister’s affections,” the white-haired girl who looked a lot like Weiss said calmly. She had cornered her inside a cave, out-maneuvered her to the point where she had to hide - and still found her.

Winter’s hand lifted her chin. “You really....are pretty.”

Her face burned red at the affectionate gesture. 

Shadow.

Run. 

=================

“That doesn’t sound like a confession though, “ Jaune said skeptically.

“With the way my month’s been going,” Blake said dryly, “you really want to bet on that?”

Jaune shook his head laughing nervously.

“No bet. No bet,” Jaune waved his hand. 

“Besides she was part of the cavalry during the Battle of Beacon.”

=================

Adam:

“Adam, I’ve never thought about you that way,” Blake choked out, the pain through her gut making her curl onto the ground.

“What! You can’t deny me. You’re mine. And you always will be. And if I can’t have you....”

Her once mentor’s blade shimmered in the flames, pointing towards her neck as she struggled to ready her Semblance. 

“Hey! Someone’s trying to kill Blake!” someone screamed out. It sounded a lot like Yang. 

A blur of fire and ice practically detonated the spot Adam was standing in, sending him to the wall opposite to her charred worse than Ruby’s cooking. Familiar figures dropped in through the roof, took one look at her, and then charged towards her assailer with unmatched ferocity. 

Adam proceeded to get his ass beat by the rest of Team RWBY, Sun, Winter, and Cinder.

=================

“Wait wait wait. Cinder? How does she enter into the picture?” Jaune said incredulously. 

“Apparently she’s the mastermind behind everything,” Blake shrugged, “According to her confession, she took one look at me and realized all the wrongs she’d done and wanted to work hard to atone.”

Jaune couldn’t help but stare disbelievingly at that.

“Winter’s boss couldn’t believe it either,” Blake pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I guess all’s well that ends well. You got saved, Vale’s still standing. All of us are alive,” Jaune laughed.

“Yeah, except for this little problem of me having a harem!” Blake growled.

“Wait. Where’s Blake?” said a voice outside the room.

“She’s awake?!” said another voice.

“She shouldn’t be walking around like that. Should be resting with the best medical care Vale could offer.” said a third. 

“Crap. They’re here,” Blake said frantically, glancing over at a nearby window. “Fix this, Jaune, or you’re not going to like what happens next.”

Opening the sliding window, the girl dove through and quickly skedaddled towards the treeline of the forest that was becoming her home.

Meanwhile....

Jaune felt a foreboding feeling as his room door slid open, and the stares of three panicking members of team RWBY settled on him. 

“Jaune, have you seen Bla-” Ruby said before her gaze locked onto something at his side.

Jaune glanced over to see what Ruby was looking at - the open window.

“So, Jaune, what do you think you were doing with Blake alll alone?” Yang said with a smile that wasn’t a smile.

“Ehehe. Nothing. I’ve just woken up. I didn’t even see her today.”

“Really? I don’t think you’re telling us the truth,” Weiss said calmly, “Ruby?”

“Yes?”

“Close the door.”

Sweating, Jaune clandestinely started pressing the nurse call button under his sheets, hoping someone would come before these three had their way with him. 

[heliosthegriffin]

The Burdens of Lordship

Jaune decided he needed to go get out for a night, and by himself.

It had been a long couple of months at Beacon, hard, difficult, and nowhere near-easy for a fake like himself.

But, he had made it so far with Pyrrha and his teams help.

He be dead without them, hells, he’d be dead without Ruby too.

But, with all these new teams coming in today... It felt so damn suffocating, even more than usual. Like they could see through him, see that he didn’t belong here.

So, it brought him here, getting dressed for a knight on the town, heh, he’d made a Yang.

A nice pair of cream slacks, a royal blue dress shirt, a black vest on top of it lined with faux-gold buttons, a pair of nice brown loafers, and fine leather belt to bring the suit together. Contrarily to Yang and Weiss’s opinion, he did know how to dress himself, being raised by his parents plus seven overbearing sisters taught him enough, it’s just, since he came to Beacon he’s actually had the freedom to wear what he wanted.

Tonight though? He want to look better than he felt. So, he brushed his a hair enough to look presentable, and went out into the dorm.

“Well, how did I dooooo-” Jaune didn’t get to finish as Nora barreled pasted into the bathroom, knocking him to the side.

Pyrrha stifled a laugh and Ren gave the barest hint of a apolegtic smile.

Jaune steadied himself, giving a laugh at his own expense. He couldn’t blame Nora for having to go to the bathroom, could he?

“Well, how do I look?” Jaune asked his partner and his friend.

Pyrrha gave him a friendly smile and nodded approvingly. “Quite lovely, Jaune. You look dashing.”

“Ah, thanks Pyr.” Jaune said with a slight blush, it always felt nice to be complimented.

Ren looked on more skeptically, with a hand on his chin. “Turn around.”

Jaune did as asked.

“Ok, do some stretches.”

Jaune complied with his team-mates wishes, surely he would notice if he missed something. 

“Alright, you look passable. Here,” Ren approached Jaune squirted a few drops of cologne, and helped straighten out his outfit. “And now you look, as Pyrrha put it, quite dashing.” Ren said with a light smile.

“Thanks, Ren.” Jaune said another light blush on his cheeks. “Well, I guess I should be going then.”

“Wait,” Ren said putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re forgetting something.” He looked over to Pyrrha and she handed the boys Crocea Mors.

Jaune looked on incredulous. “Why would I need Crocea Mors?”

Ren shook his head. “You’re a huntsman, you must look the part at all times. Plus...”

Jaune frowned, knowing where he was leading. “It’ll make me less likely to be mugged or something.” 

Jaune knew he was a still noodly, and looked kinda weak. But he was working really hard on that!

Jaune still took his blade without complaint, admittedly he has gotten so used to wearing it, he started feeling off when not wearing it.

Pyrrha rubbed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not like that Jaune, it’s not we’re concerned about you getting hurt, far from it, the odds of someone attacking you and them being huntsman trained are one in some hundred. We’re actually more concerned that someone might mug you and...”

Ren chimed in, “Well, you’re not Nora strong, but you’re being trained and have Aura, and that’s more than enough to hospitalize someone without one or both.”

Jaune grimaced at the idea. While he didn’t fancy himself strong or powerful, it as kinda hard to deny he hadn’t been making progress, last week he had managed to take off the head of one of the old drones that General Ironwood had donated to the academy. A regular human probably require much, much less effort.

So he nodded. “I see your point. Better to deter them, before they make a attempt.”

“Also, Ruby would be peeved if you didn’t start taking this.” Then Pyrrha pushed a black hand-canon into his hand. She then looked him in the eyes. “I’d also be rather put out, considering I paid for it.” A sly grin in her eyes.

Jaune sighed and equipped the gun to his waist opposite of Crocea Mors. Ever since he had started training with Pyrrha seriously, she had quite insistent about covering his ranged issues. So his devious partner, had behind his back teamed up with his best friend and local gun-nut, Ruby Rose, to make him a custom-hand canon.

Her evils truly knew no bounds. They had even come up with a name for it the devils! Noctis Mors.

Ruby had been a cruel task-master in teaching him the in’s and outs of shooting Noctis Mors, she had made him assemble and reassemble her until his hands bled gun oil. Suffice to say, while Noctis Mors felt a little strange on his hip, he was getting used to it.

“Thank you, Pyrrha.” He said, and pulled her into a hug, which she reciprocated.

“Better to have it and not need it, then to needed and not have it.”

Jaune smiled and shook his head, his friends were too good to him.

“Tell Nora, I said bye.”

Ren nodded his head. “You should leave before she loads you up with some grenades.”

Jaune shivered at the thought, he might be coming around to using Noctis Mors, but he doubted he’d ever get used to high-caliber explosives, He’d leave that to his crazy ginger bomber.

“Well, bye guys, I’ll see you later tonight.” Jaune said to his friend and Partner.

“Bye, Jaune.”

“Try not to eat to unhealthily!”

“I make no such promises!” Jaune said with a laugh, slipping out of the dorm.

Jaune made his way down the hallways of the dorm toward to the stairs that led outside. Where he encounters a quartet of familiar faces.

Jaune gave a friendly wave to Team RWBY as he walked towards them.

“Jaune!” Ruby said speeding over. “What are you up too? You’re not trying to ask Weiss out again are you?”

Jaune gave a eye-roll. “No, just heading out for the night. Just thought, I be a good friend and say hi.” Jaune said with stress on the word friend.

Ruby gave a laugh. “Sure, you are.”

The rest of her team caught up. Weiss in particular looked at him with suspicion,

“So, VB, whats the occasion for looking so sharp, you got a hot date tonight?” Yang asked giving him a approving nod.

“Hah, no, not tonight. I, uh, just gotta to get out for a night. You know? I just feel so trapped lately, and I want to not really think about things for a night.”

Ruby gave him a sympathetic nod.

While surprisingly Blake, the one he probably never interacted with, looked at him with a surprising level of empathy. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I hope you find what you’re looking for tonight.”

“Yeah me, too.”

Weiss then choose to cut in. “So, you don’t know what you’re looking for then?” Giving him a sharp look.

Jaune almost buckled under her gave, but straighten his back. “Uh, no, but, It’s not like I’m just idling around in Vale all nigh, I’ve got a couple places to hit up, but it’s not like I’m keeping to strict schedule, I either get to them or I don’t, I’m just trying to de-stress is all.”

Weiss huffed in disapproval, but said nothing in return. The Ice Queens love of schedules and appointments was approaching that of legend.

Yang then slung an arm around his shoulders, though she had to lean up to so. “Well, VB, that sounds fun and all, but Team RWBY as places to be and butts to kick, so go have your fun.” 

Jaune untangled himself. “That’s the plan, you guys go stop crime or whatever trouble you’ll get up to.”

“We don’t always do that!”

Jaune raised a suspicious brow at that.

“We don’t!”

“Sure.” Then Jaune turned and walked away, feeling as though he had won that conversation.

As he was leaving, he heard Weiss call out. “Arc.” Jaune turned to looked at her. “Try to not make a fool out of yourself, tonight.” The barest hint of what may one day be a smile on her face.

“That’s not on the list, but I’ll add it in anyway.” He said turning around, not bothering to try to find sort of conversation with her. He knew where they stood relationship wise, and if it could improve over time, that sounds good, if not, well all he could hope is keeping thing civil.

-------

Jaune made sure to pop something for his motion-sickness before he bordered the bullhead, so the flight down wasn’t as terrible as it could be, it was still awful, but at least he wasn’t spewing his guts everywhere.

His stomach feeling wobbly made he strike eating off the list for now, so he choose his first destination, and walked through one of Vales, many, many parks. Admiring the well-tended plant-life and occasionally waving at anybody who waved at him.

After his stomach settled, he decided to walk towards the closest bookstore, and just browsed till he founded something interesting. He had less-time with keeping up with comic and whatever came out of Mistral, since coming to Beacon. Still he left the store with couple interesting comics and even a couple books on stuff relating to huntsman actives.

Finally his stomach had decided to let him know, he could refill it. He ended up at a nice steak house, and somehow managed to get to a table in under a hour.

Jaune set at a table looking over a menu, he had already decided on what steak he want, now it was just onto sides.

A waitress then made herself known. “Hello, hello, what can I get you today?”

Jaune recited his order. 

“Right, well have it out as soon as possible. Also, from the rest of us here, we’d like to think you for your service.”

Jaune’s face crunched in confusion.

“Huntsmen are a invaluable part of our society, and as such, we’d like you to know that your meal is on the house tonight, if you require anything else, please just call.”

Then his waitress left, somehow managing to make Jaune feel appreciated and also like a complete piece of shit.

----

The meal was delicious, and Jaune had made sure to leave a nice tip anyway before leaving.

Did his dad get free meals like that? Did all huntsmen just get their bill wavered?

Jaune paused for a moment and sat on a bench, thinking.

He stares out into the evening light and all the people out there, living there lives, good or bad, they were still people weren’t they? They were probably didn’t even think about how to they need to get stronger, or how to kill the next grimm they face, were they?

They shouldn’t have to either? Should they, since that was his job kinda. Jaune thought for a second, he might not be a real huntsman, or even a real huntsman in training, but whats to stop him from faking it till he made it for real? What does it matter if the arms that carrys the sword has trained for two years or two months, if it can cut, it can serve.

If people were going to honor him as a huntsman, he was going to honor them by acting like one.

There wasn’t a smile on his face, but there wasn’t a frown either.

He didn’t have time to idle anymore, he needed to get back and work off this meal.

‘KAAAA-BOOOOM!!!’ A sound like none Jaune had heard before tore the air into pieces, it was so loud that it put any sound he heard before into a whimper. It was like the crack of thunder on a scale inconceivable, like lightning striking turned up to twelve.

His hearing was protected by Aura, and it was still ringing.

He turned his head towards the source of the sound, towards Beacon, and towards Patch, towards were he say the source of several more sources of the sound, and a terrible, but wondrous site.

Of what looked like one of those things Weiss summoned before, but bigger, on a scale that could cover entire city blocks! 

A pillar of sheer white light stuck Beacon, and in a moment of realization, what must be Signal on Patch.

A light so bright and terrible, Jaune felt it burn against his aura, and could see the fires start around the Emerald Forest. He carefully took his hand off his ear, the sound pound like a hammer into his head, and he could see the bones through his skin. He slapped his hand back across his head.

The pillars kept of their thunderous booming for several minutes, as Jaune covered his ears, watching in utter horror.

It felt almost like a the air was slapping against his bones, and sound was hitting against his bones, rattling and shaking them.

The ground as shaking too he realized.

Silence and darkness.

The pillars suddenly disappeared, and a vacuum of sound was left over.

The city was now dark and silent, as day left night along, as the lights in the city did not turn on, as the only light was that of the fires, there was no sound at first... Then the screams started.

AN: I can’t believe everyone, but, Jaune just got fucking Isekai’d.

[valkyrieelysia18]

RWBY Rewrite: The Relics

Hello there everyone! I’m back with another post on my Rewrite series that hopefully will delight you.

Admittedly, this might be an odd topic after my last post. Well, that one was pretty big and I wanted something a bit smaller to tackle. I had thought about getting into the White Fang next, but that post is going to be a dozy and then I thought of the Relics. And I thought “Sure, that’ll work.”

The Relics, in my opinion, were handled poorly in the show. Items that can grant great power and when collected something amazing/terrible have been done before and done well (which is honestly true a lot of stuff in RWBY). In RWBY, we didn’t know the Relics existed until over halfway through Volume 4, reduced the Maidens to essentially gate keys in Volume 5, and even at the end of Volume 6 we only know what the lamp can do on its own. I mean come on, Dragon Ball took one episode to explain its titular item (granted they were a lot more simple, but still)! So we’re going to tackle these things.

Now before we get into the individual items, let’s address some things that about the Items as a whole.

The first thing to note about the Relics in this Rewrite is that gathering the four together won’t summon the Gods back to Remnant. The Brothers in this Rewrite are much more distant figures, preferring to observe their creations rather than directly interfering. 

So then, why does Salem want to collect them? The full reason will be in her and Ozpin’s backstory post, but to put it simply Salem has a more personal history with the Relics here and wishes to get them back. She views that leaving them in the hands of mortals will just lead to them abusing the items, causing more pain and suffering for the world. Not an entirely baseless viewpoint as we’ll get into soon enough.

The next thing to note is that before the Relics were under the care of the Academies and Ozpin’s group, each was possessed by a former Royal Family. Vale had Choice, Mistral had Knowledge, Vacuo had Destruction, and Mantle had Creation. Granted as time passed and certain things were failed to be passed on, by the time of the Great War only the Crown of Choice’s abilities were known and even then only to a select few.

Each Relic will have a have a spirit that will be involved with the item’s power. I’m not sure whether it was said in RWBY after I left that each Relic had a spirit or whether Jinn was an exception, but I’m going to roll with the first one. Also, each Spirit technically doesn’t have a biological sex, they choose how they want to look.

Also, only the Lamp will have the blue glow. The other Relics will associated with the color of their kingdom: the Staff having a White crystal, the Sword having an Orange gleaming blade, and a Green jewel in the center of the Crown. They can still have the gold, but this will make them more distinct from each other.

Finally, they are NOT the major Grimm magnets as presented in the original show. While they do give off a sort of a signature that Grimm can recognize, it’s a faint one. It would attract Grimm attention if it stayed out for too long in the wild or Grimm would be looking for it in an area if Salem directed them personally to it.

All right, now let’s get down to business!

Knowledge: Jinn

The Lamp of Knowledge is the only Relic we’ve gotten to know it’s full abilities as well as meet its spirit. Even then, I think that three questions every a hundred years is maybe a little too limited for something that is a power of the gods. So, I’m changing it.

Instead of granting three questions within a certain time frame, I like the idea of giving anyone who uses the lamp the ability to ask Jinn one question of the past and present. Everyone is entitled to knowledge after all and they should determine how they want to use it. I know, I kind of stole the idea from the scepter from the direct to video Aladdin King of Thieves, but I think it’s a good setup. It’s powerful, but it still has limitations. This will contrast with its opposite the Crown, which will be more exclusive and deal with the future.

Then there’s Jinn and am I the only who thought her design was lazy? I mean we get it, she’s a genie, but there’s nothing interesting or unique in her design. Pretty sure comparisons to Aladdin’s Genie and Magi’s Paimon have been made. I’d leave her redesign to someone who is fully capable of putting a new spin on it, but I would like the idea of her not having a consistent wardrobe. Maybe have her wear a top that was similar to something found in Central Mistral while wearing a hairpiece you would identify being at home in Eastern Mistral. Not only would this symbolize how multicultural Mistral is, but also how history is made of many different parts.

Now Jinn herself wouldn’t be that different of a character from canon. She would still be a rather pleasant, teasing spirit who is quite thrilled to finally be out of the Vault again. Amongst the Relic spirits, she’s probably the one who has the least regard for mortals, but that’s partly because of what people usually use her for. Most people would ask about power, riches, dark secrets; it got kind of boring and predictable for Jinn and it was less pleasant when they would get mad at her for telling them truths they didn’t want to hear. Let’s just say a few rulers of Mistral that used her Relic didn’t use it very wisely.

Jinn’s favorite type of petitioner would be someone like Oobleck: someone who would ask her about some part of history that doesn’t have much known about it and she doesn’t get to talk about nearly as much as she’d like to so she actually goes into more detail than necessary. She’d also respect someone who probably knows the answer she’s going to give them is not one they want to hear, but is resolved to face the truth whatever it is.

Creation: Eve/Ev

The Staff of Creation is a bit interesting in that works better for some than others. It uses what a person pictures in their mind to bring what they want to reality, within reason. So it really works best with someone very creative and has a clear vision of what they want to do. It can’t create something that’s alive (like a dog) or that had been living (like someone who has passed on). Also, the more detailed and involved an item is, the longer it will take for the Staff to recharge. For example, the little crystals (which are basically a crystallized form of the staff’s power) Ironwood has been creating as an alternative energy source would take a couple of hours to a day depending on how many were created at a time. Whereas a huge detailed palace would take decades to over a century, longer than it would have taken them to build in real time.

Eve is the Spirit of Creation and would have a rather androgynous appearance. I was also thinking that the Spirit could be called Eve or Ev depending on who’s addressing them. Their main color would be white, but their appearance would resemble that of artist. Perhaps having smudges of charcoal on their face or a splattering of color on an apron. I think it would be really ironic that the kingdom that banned the arts at one point would have a Spirit that is quintessentially an artist, heck Eve might have locked up during that time and forgotten about until after the war was over. Again, I’d leave the design to someone who is much better suited for it.

Now in this Rewrite, the Staff is no longer in the Vault because Ironwood took it out. He reasoned that having a powerful tool that could be used to in the fight against of Salem would be wasted simply being left in the Vault. Needless to say, Eve doesn’t like the way Ironwood is using them. It’s clear the power is just a means to an end to him, something he can use to make Atlas more secure. There is no love or passion for what he’s creating and he treats them with no courtesy or respect, not listening at all when they try to talk to him. When Watts eventually comes to retrieve the Staff, Eve is basically “Oh thank the Brothers! I could care less about your plans, just get me out of here!” It’s sort of a summary of what partly causes Ironwood’s fall: the inability to get that people aren’t purely logical beings that will do what they are told for the greater good, but emotional irrational people who will snap when pushed too far.

The best person Eve could work with is someone who specializes in the visual arts: painting, sculpture, architecture, etc. Someone who has a very clear vision and obviously very passionate about the things they want to create. Eve would also enjoy someone who is perfectly okay if they don’t get their creation exactly right on the first try  and is more than willing to take Eve’s advice/criticism. 

Destruction: Adamou

The Sword of Destruction is perhaps the easiest Relic to understand and use. Using the sword will increase your physical abilities and the sword can send out waves of power that can devastate a group of foes or alter the environment. However, using it takes quite a bit of energy. Best case scenario will involve a week of recovery. Worst case scenario you expend years of your life. Even the King of Vale with all his power, lost two or three years he should have had to live on that Final Battle of the Great War. This cost was so great to the old Vacuo Monarchs (and given that most of their past was peaceful) that it was hidden away and forgotten about until the Great War happened and the last King of Vale rediscovered it.

I’m still little unsure of how I would like Adamou, the Spirit of Destruction, to look like. The closest example that comes to mind is something like Nemesis from Fire Emblem Three Houses: a large older battle scarred man with light armor. Once again, I’m a writer and not a character designer so if anyone has ideas I’d be willing to see them. That being said, his name is actually a West Africa variation of the name Adam, putting him in contrast to Eve. Anyone who has a passing understanding of the Old Testament should probably understand what I’m doing here.

Adamou, despite his outward and intimidating appearance, is actually a pretty easy going spirit. He’s also somewhat disappointed in how he doesn’t get used as much compared to his brethren, but he does understand why and has great respect for the old rulers of Vacuo for doing what they did. He enjoys a good fight, but he also enjoys competitions of all kinds whether physical or mental. You could talk him into a little kiddie board game and he’d go at with as much glee as slaying a hoard of Grimm. As the Spirit of Destruction, he knows better than anyone that life is finite and it’s best to live and fight to the fullest until your time comes.

Adamou would gravitate to people like Yang or Pyrrha: those who enjoy combat and wish to live their life to the fullest. Those who’s spirits burn bright even if it means they burn out quicker. That said, he also respects those who fight to protect those they love and things they believe in (to an extent, he’s not fond of fanatics who would give their lives away without a second thought for something obviously sketchy).

Choice: Caesar

Whereas the Lamp reveals the past and present, the Crown of Choice is focused on the future. Those who wear it have the ability to see the possible outcomes of any choice they face. As such you can see what the cost and consequences of your options. That being said, it’s not a hundred percent as the future is always in motion and there’s no telling how other people’s actions and choices may affect what you decide. Still, the predictions do tend to be very accurate. There’s also the possibility that wielder may obsess over said choices or may become dependent on the Crown, but that has happened very rarely since Caesar usually stops their wielders before they go too far in this.  

The thing about the Crown is that unlike the Lamp, it can only be used by one person. When its user dies, the Crown is free to be taken up by another and once it has bonded to someone they are bound for life. Now the Crown can be lent to another person, but every wielder can only do so once in their lifetime and those who borrow it can only use it for three days. On the fourth day, the crown will tighten around the person’s head, giving great pain and hallucinations, and will only stop if that person takes it off at which they can no longer use it. 

Seeing the obvious issues of such a powerful item potentially falling into the wrong hands, the first King of Vale came to an agreement with the Spirit Caesar to set up a trap/test to anyone who would try to claim the Crown. The Crown would be placed in a special chamber when not in use with a multitude of different crowns and circlets in the room. It’s up to the person to choose the right crown with no outside input. Get it wrong and the crown will turn to ash and that person is forever barred from taking the Crown. The twist? The true crown’s appearance in the trial is in fact not a crown, but a wreath of laurels (which can be seen on Beacon’s symbol). And if you’re thinking this sounds quite a bit like the scenario from Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade, that’s cause it is as its kind of the sort of trial you’d find in a fable or fairy tale. It would take either a very thoughtful and self aware person to pass the trial as well as one not greedy. It’s also made a little more complicated as the Crown looks slightly different for each of it’s wielders, which will be noticed in an earlier scene with our group of heroes in a hall of portraits of the past monarchs of the Vale. Because that is what determined who would succeed to the throne of Vale.

And yes, we will learn a lot more on this when I do the King of Vale Rewrite Post.

As a result of the nature of Crown, Caesar is the spirit that is the most close to mortals as they build a strong personal relationship with their users. As part of this, when a new wielder is chosen, Caesar will take upon the appearance of their predecessor to guide the new one. I’m still a little torn over whether Caesar should appear as the old wielder when they first took up the Crown, in the peak of that person’s life, or how they looked when they died. 

Caesar, for the most part, acts as a sort of advisor to their wielder. That can come off as them acting very parental which given how often the Crown would pass from parent to child is quite fitting. They will give advice when asked for, but in general will advise against using the Crown’s power if its a situation their user can more than handle on their own. They are very much the type of person who would advocate that “It’s the journey, not the destination” and is more than willing to let their wielder fail if it meant they could learn something from it. That said, they do get very attached and is probably the only Spirit that would openly speak positively about Salem due to her history with them and also has issues with Ozpin. They and Jinn will be the ones to eventually give the more specific details to group about Ozpin and Salem’s history after they got the general outline elsewhere.

Caesar has worked with many different types of people, but the main thing they each had in common is that they were the type of people who were always concerned with the consequences of their actions for those around them and the kingdom of Vale as a whole. They generally work best with someone who is humble and empathetic. However, they generally don’t like someone if they put a singular goal above everything else without consideration of all the consequences (again, issues with Ozpin).

Well, that turned out longer than I was expecting it too. I guess I just got into the creative juices. Anyway, I think I’ll do a different post before coming back to do Cinder. And just as a reminder people, I dropped this show at the end of Volume 6 so don’t bring up anything after that to me in a comment.

See you soon!

[rwbyvein]

Firen Lhain:  Chapter 612:  Tin Woodsman:  Part III/III

"If you don't mind?," Ironwood asked, "I'd like to get down to business." He looked around the room, a more serious atmosphere appearing almost insantly. "Is the relic safe?" he asked, and Ruby reached under her cloak to pull out the lamp. Ironwood just stared at it for a few moments. "Well, that answers a few questions. The Spring Maiden?" he asked, and almost everyone looked at Raven. Ironwood, Winter, and Taiyang followed their gazes. "I?.." Ironwood, "really don't know what to say to that."

"Yang and I had a bit of a chat." Raven stated, "She pointed out that Salem was after the Relics. The only way for me to get out of the fighting was to give them the Relic, and disappear."

"Then?.." Ironwood asked her, "if you don't mind if I ask?"

"Why I'm here?" Raven asked, "Oh, that's simple, I used my portal to get to Tai. He was really the only choice I had."

"And then what happened?" Yang asked her.

"He might be a fool, but I still love him." Raven stated. "I thought I was strong enough. I thought I was over it. I thought I was independent."

"Aaaand?" Nora asked.

"What?" Raven asked, "I was wrong. The only home I had left was Tai, and he wanted to make sure his daughters were safe."

"What about our house?" Yang asked.

Raven then looked to Tai, "I'm sorry, Tai, but that little house on Patch?, not really good enough to get me to stay still."

"Then?.." Taiyang asked, "why did you?"

"Wasn't it obvious enough?" Raven asked, and stepped towards him. She grabbed his hand and pulled it behind her back before kissing him on his lips.

"Seriously?" Yang asked, "we're right here." This caused Qrow to scoff.

"Do you guys have ANY idea what it's been like for at last month?" Ironwood put his foot heavily down, and everyone looked at him again.

"Again, I'm sorry." Ironwood stated, and Raven pulled away from Tai, turning to him.

"No, we have a lot of important, world-ending things to talk about. If I have to die, it might as well be here."

"On the airship?" Nora asked, and Raven just glared at her. Ren put his hand on Nora's shoulder and she covered her mouth.

"How are things in Atlas?" Qrow asked.

"I honestly don't know." Ironwood stated.

"The giant army, and you don't know anything?" Qrow asked.

"To be fair," Weiss stated, "we only really knew anything about Beacon because Ruby is unfathomable."

"I'm really big?" Ruby asked.

"What?" a surprised Weiss replied.

"Also fathoms." Ren stated, and Weiss turned to give Ruby as questioning look.

"You are - to put it mildly, difficult to understand." Weiss said to Ruby.

"That's pretty much why we're all here." Jaune said, "Ruby seems to know where she's needed."

"And where we're needed is Atlas!" Ruby exclaimed.

"Academy?" Ironwood asked.

"I guess?" Ruby said and shrugged.

"That targets would likely be the reliquary and the CCT." Ren stated, "like it was with the other Academies."

"But that doesn't mean that's where we need to be." Jaune said, and everyone looked at him.

"If you could elaborate?" Ironwood stated.

"It's kind of hard to hide an army of Grimm in Atlas." Jaune stated. "I'm assuming. It's like, one giant city, right?"

"It is quite densely populated." Weiss affirmed.

"And?" Jaune asked, looking at Blake, "that Atlas doesn't have the the White Fang?"

"The White Fang are all on Solitas." Blake stated, "Not in the city of Atlas. Not to mention that..."

"They've been defanged." Yang said, and snickered. Blake looked at her, rolled her eyes, and then developed a smile.

"So?," Jaune asked, "whatever happened is going to happen on Solitas."

Ironwood developed an extremely sour, pensive look.

"Do you disagree?" Ren asked.

"No." Ironwood stated, "That's the problem. If we're not looking at Atlas, but the continent, that's a LOT more space to cover. Atlas' army is vast, but..."

"It doesn't matter how big the army is," Qrow said to him, "does it?" Ironwood looked at him, the look becoming a bit softer, but a bit more confused.

"Then what do you want me to do?" Ironwood asked.

"Oh, I don't know?" Qrow asked, "open the borders?" Ironwood gave him a completely lost look. "Do you really think your borders are going to stop the Mother of Grimm?" Qrow asked, and Ironwood still looked lost at him, "All you are doing is blinding yourself to what they are doing. Do you know what Salem calls me?"

Ironwood looked around for a moment, "An Eye, right?" Ironwood said. Qrow gave him a knowing look as it dawned on Ironwood. "Use your giant Atlas military to TRACK people coming in, or something. Then at least they might be good for something."

"I know..." Ironwood said, and paused a moment for thought, "you don't like the military..."

"I think it's pointless." Qrow said. "All it does it make you THINK you are safe, but Mistral thought it was safe, and it was only a bunch of kids wandering away that stopped them."

"So?!" Ironwood shouted at him, "What do you want me to do?!" He then paused, and breathed in deep.

"For one," Qrow said, "stop trying so hard." Ironwood gave him a completely confused look, "You can't save the world, at least not by yourself. The only thing you can do is the best you can do. All you have to do is ask yourself, HOW can your giant, gaudy military help you save the world?"

Ironwood started to pace the width of the room. "I could use them to canvas the cities and villages. I could put our effort into protecting the major trade routes, it would give us the ability to inspect everything that's going on."

"There." Qrow said to him. "That's thinking like an Eye." Ironwood looked at him, and did a combination of shrugging his shoulders while pointing at Qrow with his right hand, stopping half way through each motion before adopting a neutral stance.

"That said," Qrow voiced, "when the attack comes, it's going to come big, and your shiny airships will probably have a lot to do."

Ironwood then spent a few more moments pacing. He then paused and looked at Winter, "We'll start attaching Specialists to special hunting units. The Specialists are the only ones I can really trust to think on their feet."

"Yes, sir." Winter said.

"You're just going to agree with him?" Jaune asked her.

"Have you met my sister?" Weiss asked.

Jaune looked at Weiss and shrugged, "That one scroll call." he said, and looked at Winter.

"That was you?!" Winter shouted, turning a combination of both light and dark blues. She immediately evened out her breathing to return her natural white hue.

"See?" Jaune said, as he pointed at Winter.

"Pardon?!" Winter aggressively asked him.

Jaune was still looking at Weiss, "I told you that you were beautiful." Both of the Schnee sisters turned light blue. Winter evened out her breath to get rid of it, while Weiss just kept hers.

"Sister?" Winter asked her, and Weiss just smiled back at her.

"My fiancé did just call me beautiful." Weiss said with glee, and Winter was uncertain of how to react to that. Thinking to her childhood, she had to go back twenty years to find something between her parents even vaguely related to what was happening.

Ironwood looked between the sisters. "This is the most I've seen her smile." he stated, then turned to Weiss, "It's good to have you back in Atlas. Thankfully, this time under better circumstances."

"We are trying to save the world, aren't we?" Nora asked.

"Yes." Ironwood simply stated. "This time, they won't have to be at home. Pardon this," Ironwood said, looking between the Schnee sisters, "but you two can do much more as Huntresses than you could as Dust executives. I'm proud to be working with you." He then looked at Weiss, then between the rest of RWBY and JNR, "You've done far more than could be expected of you, then could be expected of anyone." He then looked at Jaune, "And I want to thank you for explaining your reluctance to work with the Atlas military. I promise the Atlas military will respect your independance as Huntsmen. We'll establish communications protocols for you to coordinate with the Specialist units, if and when you discover anything."

"You just kind of assume we'll find something?" Nora asked

"Yes." Ironwood, simply and profoundly stated. He then paused before continuing. "I know you don't want to work directly with the military, but I still want to help you. We can find you an old building in either Atlas or Mantle for you to use. I also want to get you an airship."

Nora raised her hand, "But... none of us can fly?"

Ironwood developed a weak smile, "And a pilot. Military pilot." Jaune looked like he wanted to say something, "Former military pilot." James said with a weak smile. "But now for the most important element, what do we do with the Relic? My first thought is to put it at the centre of an army..."

"But?.." Qrow grumbled.

"But?," Ironwood continued, "that would reveal exactly what we're dealing what... and somehow... I don't think it would work. But, if the reliquaries don't work, and an army won't work, what will?"

"Maybe what Ozpin put his faith into?" Qrow asked.

Ironwood looked around the room. "But, they're... they've accomplished so much, but?.."

"Simple," Qrow stated, "she needs all four. So, you have the one in Atlas Academy, surrounded by your army, using ALL of Atlas as a fortress. The other one is protected by the ones who saved both Academies. And there's always the one that only Oz seems to be able to find."

Ironwood breathed in deeply as he looked around. He very visibly did not like the idea, but he didn't really have another choice. "On one simple condition, if you lose it, for any reason, you tell us immediately, and we'll send the army in to try and recover it."

"And how?," Qrow asked, "do you expect to do that without telling the entire army about the Relics? Once again, Ironwood breathed in deeply, but didn't seem to have an answer. "How about this, the adults stay in Atlas. If anything happens, we can swoop in to save them."

"Qrow and Taiyang are instructors in Vale." Ironwood stated. "It would be simple enough to pass them off as guest instructor in Atlas Academy, though... you would have to teach."

"Yeah-yeah." Qrow stated, "I know the rules, no drinking at school."

"And Raven?" Ironwood asked.

"She is my wife?" Taiyang stated.

Raven developed a wicked smile that shocked nearly everyone there, "I'm sure there are plenty of drug dealers, murderers, and mafia members I can... speak with."

"And Oscar?" Ironwood asked.

"He's not Oz yet." Qrow stated, "but compared to everyone else his age, he is exceptionally skillful."

"Which means?" Oscar nervously asked.

"That you would be receiving special instruction straight from the masters." Ironwood said to him, "Remember, no one is forcing you to do anything, but..." he continued as Oscar cut him off.

"I know I'm going to have to fight. I know I'm going to become Ozpin, or however that works. I'm ready to train."

"But," Ironwood said to him, "this is just training. No one is going to force you to do anything. And Ozpin..."

"He wants to be around you." Oscar asserted.

"Probably thinks you could use some advice." Qrow quipped.

"He's right." Ironwood soundly stated.

"I would like to make a simple additition." Aurora said, nervously stepping forward. "I have compiled a list of known associates we should be looking for, at least one, Arthur Watts, used to be a prominent member of Atlas society."

"Used to." Ironwood stated.

"Are you so sure about that?" Qrow asked him.

"If we can find any sign of him associating..." Winter voiced, and Ironwood's eyes lit up brilliantly, as if he finally had a shred of hope.

"Winter," Ironwood said to her, "that will be your primary responsibility."

[schnees-and-schnugs]

I’m going to create a canon divergence that is so self indulgent- *insert willow-whitley and kitty AU*

This is a concept I want to write in multiple short parts until I get bored and wear it out- so consider this just a pt. 1

I also wrote this with these last few   fics in mind, so you can think of this as a continuation of those. Or not. But a lot of the same themes do apply.

This is probably going to be first fic that I don’t write in one/two sittings but my classes are a pain in the ass ;_;

tw: eating disorder, alcoholism 

_______________________________________________________________

  “I want a cat.”

  Willow blinked. “What?”

  Her son fidgeted nervously on his feet. “A cat. I want to adopt a cat.”

  Well this is a... surprise. 

  Despite her and Whitley having lived on their own in Patch for a few months, he’s hardly spoken a world to her since the fall of Atlas. Or spoken a word to anyone, really. She put it up to the radically new environment, and well, the fact that Atlas is gone, the SDC is in shambles, and Jacques had been MIA (probably dead) since the fall. Winter and Weiss had insisted that Willow and Whitley settle down somewhere quiet and safe, and the islands off the coast of Vale weren’t exactly next on Salem’s attack checklist. 

  It was two of Weiss’ teammates who suggested they head to Patch, even offering to let their father know about their arrival. Willow had gently denied the kind offer, saying that Tai Xiao Long didn’t need to bother with them. They’ll be fine. She pretending not to notice the look on all their faces: a depressed alcoholic and her previously isolated, emotionally traumatized son?  Fine on their own? 

  She had then turned around, gathered Whitley (who was sitting on the bench behind her, ignoring attempts made by a few of Weiss’ companions to cheer him up even a little), and bought tickets for the next ship going from Vacuo to Vale.

  Yet when the ship docked on the shore of the island, there stood a blonde, muscular man with a sign that read: Willow and Whitley Schnee, Welcome! in sharpie. He must have saw the confusion (and honestly a little fear) on her face from his standpoint on the harbor because he had quickly flipped the sign over and scribbled on it before holding it up again. My name is Tai Xiao Long. Yang and Ruby’s Father.

  It seems that Weiss’ friends didn’t listen to me.

  Nevertheless, Willow had breathed a sigh of relief. She had quite a few run ins with people on the journey east who recognized her and/or Whitley. The interactions have ranged from stares that were a little too long to pure hostility. It also didn’t help that some people thought it was okay to just grab any well known person they see- she almost broke a man’s arm after he had suddenly seized Whitley’s wrist and jerked him around. He’d probably be dead if Winter and Weiss were there, but Willow had settled on ripping the mans arm away with a glyph and dragging Whitley off quickly.  

  And now here they are, three months later and Willow was drinking a can of soda while enjoying the afternoon breeze on the front porch of their little cabin when Whitley approached her.

  “A cat. I want to adopt a cat.”

  She looked up at her son’s face and saw a familiar look of apprehension that everyone in their family had when faced with the prospect of having to ask for anything. Of course, before it usually involved asking Jacques, or begging more so. Willow had to approach this carefully or else Whitley is just going to recede back into his shell and not speak a word for another three months.

  “Well... we can ask Mr. Xiao Long about it. He surely would know about any animal shelters around here.”

  He scrunched up his nose, a face that she knew in Whitley Terms meant yeah okay... but I’m not happy about it.

  Willow knew better than to suspect that Whitley disliked Mr. Xiao Long specifically. He avoided everyone these days- friendly neighbors, SDC businessmen, etc. Tai had made sure they were comfortable every step of the way. He had shown them around, introduced them to soon-to-be friends, brought them into his home for meals until Willow figured out her way around a kitchen, even invited Whitley to study at Signal Academy. He refused, but Willow appreciated the offer. And she knew Whitley appreciated it too, but he’s having a hard enough time coming to terms with Willow’s protectiveness of him, much less accept the fact that a stranger may also care slightly about him.   

 “Then what do you suggest we do?” Willow couldn’t help but to smile at his childish apprehension. She relished any show of adolescence in her son these days. After years of walking on eggshells and maintaining a facade just short of perfection, he needed to clumsily blunder around like any young teenager would do.

  Whitley tugged at his long red sleeves. “There’s a stray kitten that comes around here at night...” 

  “You have that one in mind?”

  He nodded. “I always hear it meowing outside my window. I want to try to bring it inside- I leave scraps outside my window but it always disappears by the time the sun rises. Maybe if I could get it to come to the porch... In Atlas, they said in the animal shelter that it takes a few weeks to socialize a kitten.”

  He started at her expectantly. Willow had forgotten that Whitley would occasionally volunteer at one of the few animal shelters in Atlas. Jacques only allowed him to go just so he could milk all the PR he could out of it, obviously. But to this day, she had never actually heard Whitley speak about it unprompted. It must have been something he genuinely liked if he was so quiet about it. He knew full well that any hobby that he actually outwardly enjoyed was the first on Jacques’ chopping block if Whitley ever slipped up. 

  Willow stood up on the porch steps and faced her son. “Very well then. Tonight we’ll leave food out on the front porch and watch to see if it comes by.”

  Whitley’s face brightened for the first time in months. “Really?”

  “Mmhm.” She hummed. “Hopefully soon enough the kitten will like us and come inside...”

  Willow’s chest ached at the overwhelming surprise on his face. Asking Jacques for anything always came with a catch, a quid pro quo. Looking back, Willow always knew love was a transaction to him. But being young and blinded by the man- she just accepted it as a slight character flaw. Whitley didn’t know anything other than this.

  She was going to get him this kitten even if she had to crawl in the shrubbery at midnight looking for it.

  For the next few hours he assisted Willow in the kitchen for the first time since they got to Patch. Mostly because he wanted to get the kittens food out as fast as he could, but she wasn’t complaining. She watched as Whitley cut up a cooked chicken breast into bite sized little pieces, his tongue slightly sticking out as he concentrated. She wondered, briefly, if it was safe to allow him to handle a kitchen knife. Willow shook the thought away. He isn’t a child. She wouldn’t insult him by treating him like one. But she still had to be a mother... if it wasn’t too late.

  She tried to be as hands off as she could in these last few months while trying to muster what parental authority she could without scaring Whitley away. He was free to spend his time to do whatever he liked just as long as it was safe and he went to bed on time. Eating three solid meals a day was also a requirement, but that was a sensitive issue that Willow didn’t know how to approach with conviction. He has been cooperative for the most part in this aspect- which came as a surprise since Whitley has spent years trying to maintain whatever little control he had over his own life by strictly regulating what went inside his mouth and when. Which often meant very little eating.

  Willow didn’t want to name the condition out loud. If she did, then it would become a problem. Then she would have to admit that all of this still wasn’t enough to fix everything. Then she would start wanting a drink-

  Maybe everyone was right. Maybe her and Whitley were simply too broken to be able to live on their own.

  But they haven’t been living on their own, have they? Mr. Xiao Long still came by a few times a week to “check up on how y’all are adapting”, as he says. More like to make sure I’m not passed out drunk and Whitley hadn’t taken the opportunity to jump off a cliff, Willow thought bitterly.

  She still didn’t know how much Weiss and her friends told him - but they must have been pretty honest if he was going to be this concerned. Willow cringed at the thought of how he must see her - a failure of a mother. Not only that, but one who’s too afraid to confront the fact that her son is sick and needs help, but she can’t help because she’s not enough-

  “I’m done.”

  Willow blinked out of her increasingly chaotic thoughts to see Whitley holding a small bowl of chopped chicken, staring at her expectantly.

  Maybe I should stop thinking so much.

  “Lets put it out on the front porch then,” Willow grabbed both their plates of spaghetti off the kitchen counter. “We can eat by the window and watch for the kitten.”

  Whitley frowned. “Can we keep the front door open? Maybe if it sees us enough times then it will get used to us eventually.”

  “Whatever you want darling,” She replied, already on her way to the living room.

  And so they sat eating dinner, she on the edge of the couch and he on the floor on front of the open door. They sat in silence, but it was a comfortable one - Whitley watching the outside intently for the kitten and Willow watching him absentmindedly eat. A few minutes turned into an hour and she began to wonder if the kitten was going to show tonight, but a tiny scampering sound brought her and her son back to attention.

  The kitten emerged from the shrubbery.

  It was beautiful.

  It was small, only about a few weeks old. Its pitch black fur made it almost impossible to see without the aid of the moonlight. Its little white socks on its paws and glowing eyes gave it away as it inched slowly towards the now cold bowl of chicken. 

  Willow held her breath, and she knew Whitley was too. The kitten tentatively ate from the bowl, unaware of the two humans watching it. It seemed about half way through when Whitley, unknowing, leaned forward- causing his now empty plate to slide off his lab and hit the wood floor. The sound wasn’t loud, but in the silence of the night it was like a gunshot.

  The kitten’s head snapped up, ears perked in attention. For an almost comical millisecond, the kitten stared at the two of them and they stared back, everyone wide eyed. Then it turned and ran off back where it came, leaving behind nothing but a bowl of half eaten chicken.

  Willow braced herself for Whitley’s inevitable disappointment. But instead, when she turned toward him she saw an expression of joy. His eyes are brighter than she had ever seen them, not since he was a child.

  “She’s a girl,” He said.

  She furrowed her brow. “How do you know that?”

  “When she turned around and ran - I saw her backside. I think she’s a girl.”

  Willow smiled. “Very well then. One discovery is good enough for tonight.”

  Standing up, she reached for both of their used dishes and softly closed the front door shut. “Time for bed.”

    Whitley didn’t complain. He headed off the bed while Willow cleaned up the kitchen- a menial task that she never had to do back in atlas. But she found a peace in it. If given the choice, she would take a lifestyle of chores over the decadent one she had before. Ten times out of ten. This felt real.

  In the back of her mind, she remembered the chicken left outside. After considering, she decided to leave it out in case the kitten came back. She would make sure that Whitley would have this kitten eventually. It was the least she could do.

[nightlilly0110]

Because tumblr ate my old post, I’ve decided to remake it again. I’m relatively new to the RWBY fandom, having gotten into the show just a couple months before and I see a lot of people, for various reasons, complain that Volume 7 was bad, citing in particular that a lot of decisions made were out of character.

Volume 7 was actually very in character, so I’m going to go through the major issues I’ve seen people have with it.

1) “Ruby, hiding things from Ironwood, doesn't that feel like what Ozpin did to us?” - Oscar Pine to Ruby Rose in 7x3: Ace Operatives

Yes. Yes it is exactly like what Ozpin did to them. But Ironwood is paranoid about Salem. Telling him that she can’t be killed is probably not the best thing to do, and unlike Ozpin, Ruby planned to say something. It just never came up organically. As to why she chose not to say anything immediately, Mantle is not exactly the picture of a city that’s doing okay. Ironwood’s panic is very blatant in the first episode of the season and the last adults that they trusted - Lionheart and Ozpin - betrayed and lied to them, respectively. Obviously they’re not going to be in the right headspace for spilling any earth-shattering secrets. Both Ruby and Oscar are right in this situation in that it’s a bit hypocritical to keep secrets but sometimes secrets are necessary, especially when you’re not sure who to trust (which I will go into detail with my next point). Obviously Ruby can’t both be cautious and tell the truth, so she picked the one she thought was right (though tbh I’m pretty sure Ironwood would’ve flipped his shit no matter when she came clean).

2) “For a season where the theme song is Trust Love, no one trusts anybody” - a reoccurring joke I keep encountering

As I’ve said, Ruby and co. had to pick who they trusted, and they trusted each other rather than Ironwood. A lot of the time when trust is brought up this season - with Robyn, with Clover’s death, etc. - the characters are punished for being trusting. When Yang and Blake tell Ironwood that they told Robyn about Amity, he immediately snaps at them. The council turns on Ironwood for not telling them about Amity. The narrative literally does not allow for trust to form in this volume, and before you go off telling me that this makes no sense, consider that when we first see Mantle there are ads everywhere reminding citizens about curfew and posters protesting the boarders closing. It was set up perfectly.

3) Why did the Ace Ops side with Ironwood?

I ship Fair Game. I like Clover. But he is a cop. He is a military operative. He is a fucking bootlicker and he has said multiple times throughout the season that he trusts Ironwood with everything. He and the Ace Ops serve Ironwood and Atlas, and serve Mantle only when it’s convenient/a part of their job, and if Ironwood is telling them to leave it behind, they will. Harriet in the new episode refusing to take Robyn’s hand only proves this blind loyalty further as she would rather believe Qrow killed Clover than know what actually happened. “But they spent time with the kids and know they’re good people.” Doesn’t change the fact that they’re fucking cops. They’ve known RWBY, ORNJ, and Qrow for maybe a year at most. They’ve most likely gone to Atlas Academy and have been employed under Ironwood for years. They know him better than the kids, so of course they’re going to stick with their blind loyalty and consider them a threat to their mission. As Clover said, he wanted to trust Qrow, but his trust for Ironwood was greater.

4) “They ruined Ironwood’s character. They made him evil out of nowhere.”

At the core of his mental breakdown is paranoia, and he has been paranoid ever since he was introduced when he brought his military to another kingdom in a time of peace. “But the military was helpful. The enemy was in Vale.” Yes, yes it was, but the military only made things more complicated as all the machines were hacked and turned on everyone, creating even more panic. Having his systems hacked only increases his paranoia as their system is supposed to be unbeatable. We don’t see him again for a while but when we do he’s sporting a beard. I do think this might be a small detail that indicates his mental state, as one often tends to neglect their appearance if they are in a bad place mentally. I think it’s in character that the beard is the only thing about Ironwood that’s changed because as a military man he would have to keep himself otherwise orderly. I think his mental state would’ve declined greatly in the two-year span between Volumes 3 and 7, and the final breaking point being the chess piece left in his office by Cinder, as it’s a direct taunt that the enemy could get into his office without him noticing. Ironwood has been slowly succumbing to paranoia since his introduction, and because he’s not working blatantly with Salem like Lionheart was (or he hasn’t been shown to be completely gone) people seem to take this as a sign that this change came out of nowhere. (Ironwood’s comment to Qrow about having him shot is also not in good nature and hints that Atlas might have some history with some not-so-legal punishments and that he’s perfectly fine with administering them.)

5) Who’s fault is it that Clover’s dead?

Everyone. Well, not everyone everyone. Notice I did not say who killed Clover because there’s a difference between who’s fault it is and who killed him.

So who killed Clover? Tyrian.

Who’s fault is it? Ironwood, Qrow, Clover, and Tyrian.

Let’s do this one by one. And I know I’m gonna get shit for this. I stand by what I say.

Ironwood is simple. If Ironwood had not declared martial law, the argument wouldn’t have started and the plane wouldn’t have crashed because they would’ve had their eyes on Tyrian instead of fighting each other (and if it did crash, it would’ve been 2v1 rather than 1v1v1, provided Robyn still ends up unconscious).

Qrow did choose to fight with Tyrian rather than against him. Although his intentions were to disarm Clover and have this fight end without bloodshed, things did not go as planned. He also left Harbinger unattended because he didn’t want this to end bloody, but it lead to Tyrian picking it up instead. His bad luck is implied to have played a part in this.

Clover is the one that started the fight. As I’ve said, it was in-character that he chose to want to arrest Qrow. I believe it was also confirmed that he “wouldn’t let up,” as Qrow said, because he canonically believes Qrow - a professionally trained Huntsman and one of the very few proficient with a scythe which is canonically a very hard weapon to use - was the greater threat in that fight. He also chose to divide his attention between Qrow and Tyrian and turn it into a 1v1v1 rather than help deal with Tyrian, their initial target, first.

Tyrian being at fault is kind of obvious, as he was the one who dealt the killing blow, but if he hadn’t intervened in the fight, it would’ve ended with Clover still alive as either Qrow would’ve disarmed Clover and fled or Clover would’ve disarmed Qrow and taken him in. They’re both professionals and I don’t doubt that if one of their auras shattered, the fight would’ve ended.

Can I also mention that Clover’s gotta be hella strong since all the other Ace Ops went unconscious when their aura shattered???

(If you ask me, they killed off Clover because if Qrow had gone to jail and he was still alive he would’ve been more susceptible to defecting than Marrow. If it were any of the other Ace Ops that died and Qrow was insisting it wasn’t him that did it, I bet Clover would’ve taken Robyn’s offer to take her hand. This has nothing to do with my analysis, but I thought it would be good to throw in.)

TL;DR Volume 7 was actually in character and a lot of you like to call bullshit and “bad writing.”

[helena-edge]

The Great and Powerful Ozpin (RWBY fic)

So, I usually post og content on my page, but in honor of RWBY Volume 8 coming out I thought I’d share a fic I wrote awhile ago. I have to give a shout-out to @tigerstripedmoon. After reading “three small words,” which you can find at https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12372592/1/three-small-words. I had to write a cloqwork fic of my own. Seriously, you guys, it was THAT GOOD. Please check it out. You can find mine at https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13511024/1/The-Great-and-Powerful-Ozpin. I’ll also post the whole thing here. I’m hoping that Oz gets some love in volume 8. That poor old wizard deserves it.

Okay, so here it is, “The Great and Powerful Ozpin” in which Qrow is an alcohol-soaked cinnamon role and Oz is sadder than he lets on...

The Great and Powerful Ozpin

“What kind of headmaster lets a student die on his watch?” 

The shout that cut through the amphitheater forced the man on stage to pause mid-sentence.

“I—” 

From his place in the balcony seats, Qrow watched Professor Ozpin adjust his spectacles and peer out towards the crowd.

“Pardon me?” Ozpin’s deep, calm voice echoed in the vast room, the gathering place of Beacon Academy. Regular classes had been interrupted for a special ceremony. The screen behind the speech podium was black, the color of mourning.

“You heard me, murderer! You killed my sister!”

Gasps erupted around the room. The sea of students parted aside in the wake of a giant—no, a human, the largest man Qrow had ever seen, making his way, stomp by angry stomp to the stage.

“Hazel.” Ozpin’s soft whisper of recognition sounded loud through the microphone.

“Ozpin!” the man roared in response, a sound that could have come from the mouth of an ursa.

Glynda, Oobleck and Port stood behind Oz, watching Hazel Reinhart approach. Glynda clutched her riding crop tightly, Oobleck nervously sipped coffee from a thermos, and Port gritted his teeth beneath his mustache. Unlike the other teachers, Qrow had chosen to attend the memorial service for Gretchen in the shadows of the balcony. He liked to be up high. It helped him to see better. He clenched the hilt of his sword as he watched Hazel jump onto the stage. He was only a few feet from Ozpin now, who despite, the nearing threat, remained a steadfast presence behind the podium.

“You will pay for what you did!” Hazel bellowed. He raised a beefy arm to point a finger at Ozpin’s chest.

From above, Qrow saw the tightening of Hazel’s body. He knew what he was going to do before anyone else.

None of the students understood how Qrow managed to reach the stage so quickly. There was just a blur of black—one student swore they saw a few feathers—then a clang of something heavy impacting metal. When everyone opened their eyes again, Hazel’s fist was firmly planted in the flat side of Qrow’s blade.

“Not one step closer.”

Qrow heard his own voice pulsing in his ears, low and gravelly—and dangerous. “Make a move, you son of a grim. I dare you.”

A deep, rumbling sound issued from Hazel’s mouth. Qrow couldn’t believe it; the lunatic was actually growling at him.

In response, he turned his blade ever so slightly so that the sharp edge was cutting into Hazel’s knuckles.

“Qrow.” A gentle voice spoke from behind him, and Qrow felt the pressure of a hand upon his shoulder, one with pale, delicate fingers, but with a grip stronger than Qrow had ever known. At that moment there was the sound of a cane being tapped decisively on the ground.

“Why don’t we all calm down,” Ozpin said, his manner congenial as if he, Hazel and Qrow were merely sitting down to a cup of afternoon tea.

Hazel’s eyes looked past Qrow and instantly narrowed. “You,” he hissed. “You killed her; you killed my little sister.”

“Your sister was old enough to make her own decisions.” Ozpin sighed. “Gretchen was brave—braver than most. She would have made an excellent huntress.”

Hazel continued to push harder against Qrow’s blade with his fist. Blood ran down his fingers and dripped onto the stage floor. Qrow stared. Did the man not feel anything?

“I am truly sorry for your loss,” Ozpin continued.

“What do you know about loss?” Hazel cried.

“More than any man, woman or child,” replied Ozpin in a tone that grew heavier with each uttered syllable.

Qrow saw rage grow in Hazel’s eyes. He was certainly not calming down; in fact, Ozpin’s words seemed only to have incensed his rage.

“Oz, stay back,” Qrow warned.

But Ozpin had never been one to take orders from Qrow, or anyone for that matter. 

“Hazel,” he said softly, imploringly.

The resistance against his blade intensified. Hazel was strong, too strong. Qrow wouldn’t be able to hold him back for long.

“Drop dead,” Hazel seethed at Ozpin, spittle flying out of his mouth and hitting Qrow in the face.

“Dead,” Ozpin repeated with a wry chuckle. “If only.”

With a single thrust, Qrow felt his sword give way. The barrier that he’d made between Hazel and Ozpin clattered to the floor as Hazel rushed forward, letting loose a yell of savage fury.

“Aaaah!”

“Oz—!” Qrow cried, reaching, weaponless, for the professor. 

Before he could take another step, the sight of Ozpin raising his right arm, quick as lightning, caused his shoes to skid upon the ground to a halt. He realized that Hazel couldn’t get closer than a cane-length away from Ozpin. The headmaster held him back with the tip of the walking stick. Hazel was a towering mass of muscle compared to the slim figure of Ozpin, but he couldn’t force the man back an inch. 

The student body gaped collectively, spellbound by the scene. The whole amphitheater seemed to be holding its breath, and the teachers themselves were frozen with shock. Glynda, Oobleck and Port had their weapons out, but they appeared to have forgotten that they were authorized to use them. Ozpin’s face remained coolly unaffected; his eyes never broke from Hazel’s fiery gaze.

“Go home Hazel. Your family needs you.”

“My family?” Hazel’s incredulous scream traveled all the way to the ceiling and bounced back again. “You destroyed my family!” He struggled against Ozpin’s cane, but just then the doors to the amphitheater burst open and men and women in uniform came streaming in, guns drawn. Someone with sense (Probably Glynda, Qrow thought) had called the Vale police.

“Hands up!” they shouted at Hazel.

Hazel, finally understanding that he was vastly outmatched by Ozpin and now outmanned, did as he was told, raising his massive arms above his head. With one final hostile glare at Ozpin, he let himself be led away by the police.

After the doors slammed shut behind them, every eye in the amphitheater swiveled back to the stage. His cane lowered, Ozpin walked calmly back to the podium.

“That concludes the service,” he said into the microphone. Then he left the stage without another word.

Glynda took up the mic after he was gone, using her commanding voice to usher some order back into the disoriented crowd.

“You heard the headmaster. Back to class!” she barked at the students.

Qrow picked up his sword, flicking off some of Hazel’s blood before putting it back in its hilt. He was secretly glad that he hadn’t been forced to waste the scythe mechanism on a piece of scum like Hazel. He knew Oz would sympathize with his grief, but Qrow had no patience for people who took their pain out on others.

He pulled a metal flask out of his shirt, hearing it clank against the sideways cross necklace he never took off. He took a large swig and waited for the burn of alcohol to chase away the memory of Hazel, the hatred in his eyes. He would have destroyed anything in his path just to get to Ozpin, all for the sake of his suffering.

He stood alone on the stage as the room emptied out, gazing at his reflection in the flask. He saw dark circles beneath his eyes. The bright red irises matched the tiny veins popping out against the white. All the while he denied the voice in his head that called him a hypocrite. 

Self-destruction is still destruction, the voice taunted.

Qrow took another swig. Shut up.

                                                            ***

“How long has it been since you ate something, Oz?”

The sky was dark outside the circular window of Ozpin’s office. Because the window doubled as giant clock, Qrow was able to watch the minute hand tick up and around the shattered image of the moon, which illuminated the ground below in pearl-white fractals.

“Ate something?” Ozpin said from across the room.

“Yeah.” Qrow turned away from the window to face the headmaster, who was busy shifting books around in his shelves. “You know, food? Hot cocoa doesn’t count by the way.”

A hint of a smile played over Ozpin’s lips. “That’s a shame.” 

Qrow couldn’t help but notice that, between reaching up for books, Ozpin was leaning on his cane more than usual. In fact, the slight slump of his shoulders made it seem like the stick was the only thing keeping him upright.

A softer note took hold of Qrow’s voice.

“How long has it been since you last slept?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because it’s one a.m., and you’ve decided that now would be the best time to rearrange your bookshelves.”

Ozpin paused, running a hand over one leather-bound cover. The History of Remnant. The sound of gears churned rhythmically above them. The gears, along with the cool emerald walls of Ozpin’s office had always had a soothing effect on Qrow. Everything about the room was familiar to him. He used to spend a lot of time here during his student days. Granted, he had been in trouble most of those instances, sent to the headmaster for speaking back in class, starting a fight in the hallway, or sneaking booze into his dormitory. None of the teachers had ever been very fond of Qrow in his younger years, but Ozpin had always gone easy on him. Now as an adult, not much had changed; he continued to rub people the wrong way, but being back with Oz, looking down at the clouds from the tallest part of Beacon Academy, he felt like he was back home again.

“Time is relative,” Ozpin said at last.

“Right,” Qrow replied.

“Why are you here at this hour?” Ozpin turned the question on the huntsman.

“To give my report on the spring maiden,” Qrow lied.

“Young Spring is residing at Haven Academy. Leonardo keeping me updated for the time being…a fact which you are well aware of.” Ozpin raised a silver eyebrow in Qrow’s direction. “Why are you really here?”

Because I saw your face when Hazel called you a murderer, and there’s no way I’m leaving you alone after that.

“To help you organize your books.”

He took a step closer to the shelves. At the same time, a book wobbled and fell, and on its way down, knocked over a figurine of two intertwined dragons that had sat guard there for as long as Qrow could remember.

Ozpin caught the book in one deft swoop. Qrow rushed forward for the figurine but, his reflexes, dulled from drink (he had been outdoing himself this week), were too slow to catch the dragons. They hit the floor, shattering into tiny bits.

“That’s a bit of bad luck.” Ozpin frowned at the mess.

“Sorry,” Qrow grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You know I can’t always control it.”

“No need to apologize.” Ozpin squinted at the broken dragons, poking a shard with the tip of his cane. “It was a gift. To tell you the truth, I’ve never been fond of it.”

He started to put the fallen book back on the shelf. As he looked up, a daze came over his eyes. He blinked and staggered backwards like someone who was about to faint. Qrow made ready to catch him, watching as the weight of the book carried his arm downwards. Finally, it slipped from his fingers, which appeared to have no strength left in them, and tumbled to floor, joining the shattered dragons. 

Ozpin closed his eyes and hunched forward, resting his forehead on his cane, breathing hard. If Qrow hadn’t know any better he would have thought that he just finished fighting off fifty grim. Before him was the shell of the man who had held Hazel back with no effort one week prior.

“Oz,” Qrow said hesitantly, placing a hand on his back. At the touch, Oz straightened up.

“I’m fine; I just became a bit dizzy there for a moment.”

“That’s what happens when you starve yourself for a week,” Qrow muttered under his breath. Then louder. “Are you alright—really?”

Ozpin, either not hearing him or choosing to ignore the question, said nothing. Instead he let his cane guide him towards the center of the room.

“Is there a real reason you came here?” he asked Qrow without looking back at him.

At that moment, anger for the headmaster bubbled up in Qrow. Why couldn’t he be straight with him for once and admit that something was wrong? 

“Yeah, there is.” He struggled to keep his voice steady. “I came to ask if you think letting yourself die will bring Gretchen Reinhart back? Well, in case you didn’t already know, professor, Beacon lost a student forever—and you can’t die!”

Oz was silent for a minute before turning slowly around. One look at his face made all the anger in Qrow’s body dissipate into thin air. With his chin lowered into his green turtleneck and golden eyes raised in supplication, Qrow was instantly struck by how vulnerable, how sad he looked.

“Please…I know. You don’t have to remind me,” he said softly.

“I’m sorry,” Qrow immediately apologized again, disgusted with himself. Ozpin pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, a betrayal of stress that Qrow had come to recognize over the years.

“I try to eat, but—” 

“—you can’t keep it down,” Qrow finished for him. He knew the symptoms of guilt.

Ozpin nodded.

“I try to sleep, but—” 

“—let me guess: the nightmares.” 

Ozpin nodded once more, pinching his nose harder and furrowing his brows as if a bout of sharp pain had just seized him.

Qrow wasn’t surprised. Ozpin had been suffering the nightmares long before Gretchen’s accident. Another side-effect of a mind steeped in shame. Qrow had heard him cry out in the night before, screaming at someone only he could see.

 “The children! Where are the children? What have we done? What have we done?”

He knew that there were parts of Ozpin’s past that he had never shared with him, might never share with him. The man had certainly lived long enough to rack up plenty of secrets.

That doesn’t matter, not now. Qrow told himself. Let him keep his secrets for the time being. What mattered in this moment was getting Oz through the night.

“Even if this body does give out on me, death would be no release. I…I get to carry my guilt through each life,” Ozpin continued.

“Oz, you know Gretchen wasn’t your fault.”

Ozpin lowered his hand and looked Qrow squarely in the eye. Regardless of how old he became, the headmaster’s piercing gaze never failed to make Qrow feel like the scrawny first-year again.

“I’d rather not talk about this right now,” Ozpin said firmly. He moved to turn away but Qrow caught him by the shoulders.

“Then don’t talk, listen. You were right when you said Gretchen was old enough to make her own decisions; she chose her path, she met her fate.” 

All of a sudden, an image of Summer came to him. His breath caught in his throat. His team leader had left for the mission that day and never came back, leaving Qrow to somehow make a life without her, to keep Ruby, her infant daughter—his niece, safe. But in the end, he was positive that even if she had known what awaited, she still would have gone.

“That’s right,” he said, swallowing thickly. “Choice. We can’t forget that they made a choice. If we do that, then we insult their—I mean Gretchen’s memory.”

Qrow could feel Ozpin’s body shaking between his hands. He brushed the professor’s silver hair away from his eyes, letting his fingers linger against the side of his face.

“Hey. It’s okay,” he whispered.

The utterance of those three words was all it took to make Ozpin break. He crumpled to the ground, face buried in his hands, his cane clattering beside him. 

Qrow dropped to his knees after him. He waited a moment while Ozpin took deep, shuddering breaths. Gently, he removed Ozpin’s hands from his face, his chest tightening when he took in the agonized expression beneath. 

Past the black spectacles, past the gleaming gold, Qrow could glimpse a millennium of suffering in his eyes, a man whose life stretched beyond what he couldn’t begin to imagine. A man who had seen a thousand years pass by, life after life. How many mistakes had he, Qrow Branwen, already made in his short lifespan of less than thirty years? He thought of Summer again. Enough to turn to drink to numb the pain. Pain. Once he thought he understood it, but as he gazed down at Ozpin, so small and exposed once the façade of the calm, collected headmaster had come tumbling down, he realized that he only knew pain as an inkling, a small sliver of the suffering that the human soul, that Oz’s soul could and had been made to endure.

“It’s okay,” he said again, hearing how feeble his attempt at comfort was, like trying to staunch a stab wound with a band-aid.

The tears began to stream now, down Ozpin’s cheeks, dripping into tiny puddles on the floor. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he gasped.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Qrow repeated, taking off the spectacles to better wipe away the tears. “It’s okay…”

He pulled Ozpin into an embrace, rocking with him as the sobs wracked his body. How long had he been holding them back? It was a while before his breathing steadied.

As Qrow pulled a way, he automatically reached into his shirt for his flask. He contemplated its contents and the weeping man before him. It wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, and it certainly wasn’t hot cocoa, but it was the only remedy he could think of.

“Here. This might help you sleep,” he said.

Ozpin, his face pale except for the puffy redness around his eyes, stared at the flask. A split second passed and he seemed to make a quick decision. He took the offered drink, suckling the alcohol from it like a baby with a bottle.

“Hey, hey, slow down.” Qrow took the flask away, making use of his sleeve to dry the left-over drips of liquid on Ozpin’s chin.

“I’m sorry, I—” 

“Stop. No more apologizing,” Qrow whispered.

He leaned close, using his lips to kiss away the wetness on his cheeks. Then he moved on to the mouth. Ozpin’s lips were stiff and trembling, but Qrow knew how to work them until they melted into his.

He would stay with him tonight, be there to soothe the nightmares away. With a sigh of exhaustion, Ozpin sank into Qrow’s chest. Qrow’s hand naturally fell to the task of stroking his hair. 

Yes, he would be here, always.

“I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.”

Despite everything, Ozpin managed to chuckle through his tears.

“I thought you didn’t want me to starve.”

“Right. I’ll steal some pancakes from the cafeteria then.”

[littleblackqrow]

((I think the most frustrating part of watching people analyze the actions of characters in vol8 is that the biggest complaint is that logic is thrown out the window and I would argue that’s the point. Especially because of the perspective of the show. I really hate to keep picking on Ironwood, Qrow, and RWBY, but those characters are the ones driving the plot, so I guess we gotta.

Lets start with RWBY. They’re kids first off. WBY are all about 19-20 years old and Ruby is 17. Lets start off by saying those are ages not exactly known for smart, long term decision making. Most people that age are trying to figure out what they want to do for the rest of their lives, struggling with college, dates, drinking, sex for the first time. They’re stumbling around in adult bodies while still having more or less the mind of a teenager because society has suddenly stopped treating them like a kid and expects them to be an adult. Except instead of having to struggle with decisions about their near future, RWBY is being asked to save the world. If you think you could handle that pressure well at 17-19, you’re lying. 

Does it make their decisions right though? No. The way they treated Ozpin for hiding the worst of his abuse and the fact that his ex-wife was an insane bitch who is functionally immortal is wrong. But again, I ask you, could you handle having all that dumped into your lap in an already stressful situation? The person who should be (and rightly is) condemned for his reaction is Qrow for throwing a punch. No matter how upset you are no hitting. Once you throw a punch in that situation, you’re the bad guy. And until he makes an effort of an apology he’s the bad guy in that situation. 

The biggest problem that team RWBY has is that all of their terrible decisions throughout the show have either been rewarded, or the got bailed out from having to see the real consequences. 

Ozpin allowed Blake to hide her White Fang past and therefore missed the least subtle component of the Fall of Beacon. Things could have been significantly less bad if he’d known about their involvement and was able to send Qrow in to spy on their operations. Maybe he could have figured out what Roman or Adam was up to, realized they were working for Cinder and by extension Salem.

Ozpin allowed team RWBY to do a mission that was a couple grades too advanced for them because he knew they’d break the rules otherwise. That was a tacit acknowledgement that he thought whatever they were up to was alright, and that they had his blessings on whatever it was that they wanted to do.

The best example of terrible decision after terrible decision that RWBYJNR makes is Argus. They have no idea how they’re getting the Relic to Atlas, and they seem road blocked. Jaune suggests stealing an airship, and Qrow, the adult in the room tells them that this is a bad idea, and if it goes bad it has the potential to screw up their entire life. He’s right. The problem is that he’d run off on his bender, and therefore the kids, and we in the audience, are supposed to see this as an unreasonable suggestion. 

However, it plays out as him being right. The incredibly complicated plan did go wrong. Now, they had no reason to suspect at the time that Adam was stalking Blake at the time (and I could go into why thats perfectly ic for him at another date), but there were a lot of moving parts in this plan and literally any of them could have broken. Everything that happened after they put this plan into motion was reactionary. Cordovan, obsessed with showing the Might of Atlas (TM), jumped into the mech suit. At that point, Ruby didnt really have a choice of not breaking it. But the ensuing fight created enough general unease that it summoned a Grimm hoard.

By rights, Argus should have fallen because of their bad decisions and in spire of their best efforts. Instead, Cordovan had a change of heart at the last moment and bailed them out.

This just reinforced the flawed idea that RWBY is always in the right and directly lead to s7′s climax. They are the unstoppable force.

Now you have Ironwood, quite literally the unmovable object, which I now realize is sort of his name. Ha.

Ironwood’s behavior does not come out of nowhere. Since his appearance, he’s had problem stamped all over him. He showed up with an entire goddamn army to a supposedly peaceful event that is to promote unity and the excellence of each kingdom. His rationale is that the people are going to be impressed with his big guns and feel safe. Ozpin gently points out that those big guns also signal to people that there is something out there that those big guns are designed to shoot. 

If its not a Grimm, could it mean that Atlas intends to shoot people?

Remember we’re not even 100 years out from the last World War, one that was basically started by Atlas. People are nervous. There are still grandparents and great grandparents alive today that were kids when the Great War was happening. Not only that but we’re also made aware that Atlas has rolled in the apolitical protectors of the people, the Huntsmen, into its military. This elite fighting force that is basically above the law and can go to any country in the world whenever they want, is now part of the military. The ONLY standing military that Remnant seems to have.

All of this has obviously caused friction in the Inner Circle. Qrow is not quite and never has been quiet about his disdain for James’ heavy handed techniques. Glynda calls James’ actions a dick measuring competition, and Ozpin was trying to be gentle about it, but he was clearly telling Ironwood to get his army off his fucking front lawn. And what did Ironwood do? He’d gone around Ozpin and talked to the Vale council.  They were threatening to remove Oz fro his position because they agreed with Ironwood: he was being too passive. Ironwood even tells Glynda that he cant believe that a man he trusted for so long would just sit by and stand to the side instead of meeting the problem head on. He didnt seem to understand why Qrow would want to go gather intelligence on an operation before sending in the big guns. 

Ironwood has never been a man to put a well thought out plan with all his ducks in a row into motion. This is a man who plows through opposition at every opportunity.

And when we see him again, we can see him steamrolling through opposition again. Somehow he got himself two seats on the council. That gives him an enormous amount of power. And his position as general means that at any point he can declare an emergency and become the de facto dictator of Atlas if he deems it fit. The problem is that he’s having these arguments against Jacques Schnee a man that the audience rightly hates, so he seems reasonable. Who gives a fuck about Jacques loosing business, he’s a dickhead. We’re not noticing the fact that James is consolidating power, or that he’s using that power to make unilateral decisions with no one telling him no.

There’s no one left in the room who is able or willing to tell him that these are bad ideas, that there will be consequences that he cant foresee. His  bullish behavior lead to both Robyn Hill and Jacques Schnee running for an empty council seat, and that created the environment that we walked into in s7.

Now, not all James’ ideas are bad. The Amity Project is actually a really good one, and James is right in wanting to keep it from the general public until its near completion. But you know who should have known? The other fucking council members. Probably the candidates. Playing your cards too close to the chest when you clearly need help and allies is a bad thing. But again, James didnt even trust Ozpin to be able to run his own kingdom, so durr hurr of course he’s the only one who can take care of Amity. And run a kingdom. And run an academy. And protect an ageing, ailing Maiden. And of course he doesnt have time to treat his horrific PTSD from the Fall of Beacon.

So when things go tits up because again, of course they will with a plan that complex James Ironwood doubles the fuck down on his terrible solo decision making. Clearly, non of this is his fault. No one is listening to him. He cannot trust others to make decisions so he’s going to make all of them. There’s no one around him to tell him no, especially because the first person that tried was publicly executed. 

James is scared. He’s had a mental break because of that fear. His paranoia, his PTSD, and the fact that there’s nothing there to help him back to stability means that he’s just going to be bouncing from one terrible choice to the next. He’s Hamlet in the throes of paranoia, heading down a road that is going to get everyone, including himself killed. He is King Lear as the world crumbles around him, acting cruel and making unreasonable, horrible demands of those around him. 

Working with Watts seems like an absolutely terrible idea, but to someone who thinks that he is in control of the situation because he has to be in order to keep functioning, there’s no way that this can bite him in the ass. For James, if no one is willing to follow his orders, he’s going to make them. This attitude is probably exactly why Watts did what he did and joined Salem in the first place. 

So when you combine the unstoppable force of Team RWBY, who’s been told they’re the child saviors of the world, and who’ve been either rewarded or bailed out of their bad decisions against the immovable object of Ironwood and his absolute conviction in himself, you have the mess Atlas is in now.

Honestly I find it kind of brilliant. 

[mercurryblack]

Chapter 10: Hattie

The night is but young.

❃❃❃

“Are you done yet? Are you done yet?” Hattie asked, squirming as she repeated her question for what seemed like the thousandth time.

“For the thousandth time, no, I’m not done yet. Stupid three thousand word count.” Cait groaned, slouched over their desk. “I swear, the day I graduate, I’m gonna kick Professor Rook square in the junk… boring old bastard… ”

“Sorry, time’s getting away from me.” Hattie apologized. “You’re still using that trick I told you about?”

Cait shrugged. “Even if I don’t count it as I go, it still feels like I’m never gonna finish it.”

The two had been spending the entire evening in their dorm room; Cait had been working on their assignment since the moment the Armilde sisters had left, and Hattie had been trying to keep herself busy by dusting, staring outside, dusting again, and even going as far as to read a lesson they hadn’t yet covered in class.

Tossing the Modern Remnant History textbook to her side, Hattie fell back on her bed spread-eagled, disappointed at the evening so far. She regretted how she had never really fostered a social life outside of Haven Academy— or much less her team, for that matter.

She had grown up as a ward of the underground Sisterhood, mostly keeping to herself and her small collection of fairytale books back then. Having dwelled for so long down in the habitable mine tunnels that the Sisterhood called home, she had recently found herself wanting to explore the world outside more often, if only to make up for lost time.

Those extracurricular lessons with Professor Gormlaith don’t count, she mentally noted.

Hattie didn’t have many friends, either— ironically, the happy-go-lucky girl could be a lot more introverted than extroverted at times. She knew a few students in their year by name, but not enough to warrant anything closer than a “hello” in the hallways. Plus, she didn’t find it to be much fun going out without her friends, which essentially consisted of LLAC and pretty much nobody else.

Well, there is CMYK, she thought to herself, remembering the team of now-second-years that they had tutored in the previous semester. I bet ol’ Mallow or Kara would have been free at this hour… but they’re all over in Vale helping with the set-up for the Vytal Festival, lucky dogs.

And since Lillian and Amaryllis were out doing their own things, she was left cooped up with Cait, who had been taking their time in writing an essay she had already finished.

“…Don’t you have anywhere else to go, Hattie?” Cait asked, glancing over their shoulder.

Hattie turned, wilting slightly as she did. “Should I leave you alone?”

“Nah, it’s not that.” Cait replied. “I just don’t want you to feel stuck here with me, y’know? You could go if you wanted to.”

Hattie shrugged. “Yeah, but I don’t really wanna. I’d prefer to wait for you rather than leave by myself.”

“Fair. Are we going somewhere after I’m done, anyways?” Cait said, turning back to their writing.

“I don’t know. I mean, Ammy said we can come down to her boyfriend’s family’s charity event, but it sounds kinda formal.” Hattie said, then shook her head. “I’m not in the mood for formal tonight.”

“So you don’t have a plan for this evening?” Cait inquired.

“I was kinda hoping you had that part sorted out,” she said with a lopsided smile. Having hung out with them the most, Hattie had always left the ideas up to Cait— they did always know where to go for a fun time. Also, she tended to worry that she’d make a big plan and it would turn out to be a flop.

Lost for any follow-up, she wondered aloud, “What do you think Detective Yuen and the old guys are up to now?”

“Probably living their nice and worry-free adult life.” Cait said sarcastically.

“Do you think we should give them a call? You know, check up on them?”

“Nah. I’m sure they’re doing fine on their own for one night.”

Hattie grabbed her Scroll from the far edge of her bed and waved at Cait, sticking out her tongue. “I’m gonna do it anyways! What if they’ve finally found the bad guys or something?”

Cait rolled their eyes. “Whatever you say…”

***

Sardion paced back and forth in Yuen’s office, his gaze fixed on the vinyl floor. The day had been yet another bust— Rudyard had hung back at Yaara’s house, while Sardion and Yuen, with little else to do, had returned to the precinct.

“I’m just saying, don’t you think we should give LLAC a call?” Yuen suggested. “They’re part of this investigation too, and we could really use some help right now. Plus, they might see something we’ve overlooked.”

“They’re having a night off, Yuen. I’m sure they have better things to do.” Sardion replied. “You don’t want to tire the young’uns out before they even graduate, right?”

“Maybe.” Yuen sighed. “Hear anything from Rudyard?” 

“Not yet, but he said he’d call if he found anything to go on.”

***

Rudyard stared up to the inky heavens, taking in the starry night sky from Yaara’s old lawn chair, a half-empty bottle of beer loosely grasped in his fingertips.

In the backyard of her humble home, the Huntress had cultivated a small flower garden. In the back of his mind, Rudyard reflected on the visits he had paid her, how she had meticulously tended to them every day; thoroughly watering them, rooting out any weeds, gently humming while she kept her garden impeccable.

Now, seeing as their owner had been dead for a week, the garden had slowly begun to die as well. The bright petals and leaves of the flowers had begun to fade and wilt from a lack of water, and weeds had taken over a small patch of dandelions.

Rudyard rose to pick up a rusty old watering can on the back veranda, then filled it up with a nearby hose. As he let the water trickle down onto the garden’s parched soil, he let out a long sigh— after all she had done for him, it was the least he could do. Eventually emptying the can, he opted to go back inside, as the night air started to grow colder.

Searching for a spot where the police hadn’t tagged or taped anything of interest, he made himself comfortable in a reclining chair in her personal study. Looking around, a single book lying on her desk caught his eye, the tip of a torn sheaf of paper stuck in the pages halfway through. The title on the cover read Eternal Blue Sky, luminescent gold font on a pastel blue background.

“Of course.” Rudyard chuckled to himself. “You would have hated this, Yaara, leaving a book unfinished.” Absentmindedly, he picked up the book and opened it up to the bookmarked page.

He paused.

Written on the scrap of paper in what was unmistakably Yaara’s handwriting was a short message; 1100 apr 23 for further details - stored on hosaki comm log 1138.

“April…?” Rudyard muttered, squinting at the writing. He remembered that April 21st had been the starting date of the last mission on her and Berilo’s record, and it had been marked as remaining within city limits.

He had never heard of a place called “Hosaki” anywhere in Mistral City.

Frowning, he tucked the sheaf of paper into his pocket and rose from the chair, reaching into his pocket. “Wonder what Yuen’ll make of this.”

He paused, fingers fumbling inside an empty pocket.

“…Where’d I put my Scroll?”

***

“Do you know of any other places they might have escaped to?” Sardion asked as he took a closer look at the map of Mistral spread over Yuen’s desk, doing his best to focus despite his inner restlessness slowly clouding his mind.

“Besides the forest, nothing, and if that’s the case then they’re likely long gone by now.” Yuen said, leaning back in her chair. “Maybe the Manju-Shage District, but I doubt it. The whole thing’s cordoned off by a tripwired security fence. There’s no way someone could’ve broken in without us knowing about it.” She continued, tapping her fingers against the armrests in mild frustration.

“Well, maybe they could’ve snuck in, if they had the right Semblance for the job. At this point, I’m ready to try anything if it means we might find a lead,” Sardion paused, sharply exhaling, “Any step we take, no matter how small, is at least a bit closer to the whoever’s behind this.”

“True.” Yuen said, glancing up at him. “After all, there’ve been times that thugs occasionally get the great idea to break in and squat there, to lay low or whatever… you want to check it out, just in case?”

“Might as well. I’ve already got my weapon on me.” Sardion shrugged. “I’ll call up Rudyard first, see if he’s up for it.” He pulled out his Scroll and sent a call to Rudyard’s contact.

Bzzzzz. Bzzzzz. A small buzzing hum came from beneath a stack of papers on the right of Yuen’s desk. The Huntsman and the detective exchanged confused looks, before realizing what was making the noise.

“Oh, for the love of…” Sardion muttered, sticking his hand underneath the stack and pulling out a Scroll— Rudyard’s own. “Perfect time to forget this, you freakin’ cueball…” He stuck his Scroll back in his jacket and tossed Rudyard’s onto Yuen’s desk.

“Okay, well, that’s a bust… like I said before, we could call up LLAC.” Yuen suggested.

Sardion was inclined to disagree with her, given that it had been the students’ night off— calling them in for duty at such an hour wouldn’t be the most gracious move. However, he figured that they’d best bring some backup, if only to cover more ground if nothing else.

“Alright, go for it.” he said.

Yuen took out her Scroll and pulled up Lillian’s contact. “Here goes. Hope for the best.”

***

“Why do I always have to be the one to make the food?” Rosario asked, swinging her now-empty basket from one hand as she walked alongside Lillian down the cliffside path.

“You’re a great cook, and I can’t even season my food correctly.” Lillian replied. “Do you remember the last time when I tried to make instant ramen unsupervised?”

“Point.” Rosario said. “You did literally set a pot of water on fire. I’m no scientist, but I’m pretty certain that violates every law of thermodynamics that there is.”

Lillian nodded. “See?”

“Riiiight.” Rosario drawled. “Imagine what adult life would be like. Every night, it’ll just be me greeting you, ‘Welcome home, mi amor! What do you want first? Dinner? A bath? Me?’ And then you’ll go, ‘I’ll have you for dinner in the bath!’”

“I know you’re trying to make fun of me, but you’re drooling, Rosario.” Lillian said, giving her girlfriend a flat stare.

Rosario flushed red, wiping the corner of her mouth. “I am not.”

Lillian snorted.

***

“Damnit, her Scroll’s turned off.” Yuen groaned. “Her sister’s offline as well.”

“Thought so. They have private lives too, you know.” Sardion shrugged, slinging his coat over his shoulders. “C’mon, might as well see if any airships are available and just get this over with.”

Yuen rose from her chair. “Fine. I’ll leave them a message if we do find anything.” Just as she was about to follow Sardion out, her Scroll suddenly vibrated in her coat.

The profile picture that displayed the caller wasn’t Lillian— rather, it was the Lazuli kid calling her.

It’s something, I guess. Yuen thought to herself, swiping to accept the call.

“…Hey, Detective Yuen.” Hattie chirped up on the other end.” How’s it going? It’s Hattie from, uh, Team LLAC. Uhm, we just wanted to check in, and—” She continued, stumbling slightly over her words.

“As a matter of fact, I’m glad you called.” Yuen replied. “Listen, Sardion and I are going to investigate a possible lead down in the old Manju-Shage District, and your help would be very much appreciated.” She hesitated before continuing. “That is, if you’re not already preoccupied.”

***

On the other end of the line, Hattie’s face lit up as she heard Yuen’s invitation. For the moment, she managed to suppress the urge to whoop and cheer out of deference to the still-working Cait. “Nononono, no problem. We’ll be there right away, Detective,” she said, struggling to contain her excitement as she ended the call.

It took her a few seconds before she was able to produce words, since all that was coming out of her mouth were muffled joyful squeaks. “…Cait?”

“Gimme a sec.” Cait replied, holding up a finger.

Hattie paused, her smile falling slightly.

“Cait.” she repeated, her tone becoming  normal.

“Wait, I’m almost done.” Cait said, focused on their computer’s monitor.

“Cait!” Hattie repeated for a third time, her voice rising slightly as she grew irked by their dismissal.

“I said wait, Hattie.” Cait said, still not turning around. “…’Make sure to provide footnotes along with citations’? Aw, what the hell’s the point of that?” they muttered to themself as they reviewed their essay.

Hattie scowled darkly, thoroughly annoyed at the brush-off. After a moment, she tiptoed up next to her teammate’s shoulder and leaned in towards their ear as close as possible.

“CAAAAAAAAAAAIT!” she screamed.

“AUUUUUUUGH!” Cait screeched, jumping up from their seat in shock as they spun around to face her. Their brow contorted, startled and frustrated at the girl’s outburst.

“WHAT?!” they snapped.

Hattie’s expression morphed into a tooth-bared cheshire grin, her attempt at emulating Cait’s own habit.

“I know what we’re gonna do tonight~♪.”

[kingbennyboyyy]

benny’s RWBY rewrite: the relics & maidens, part 1

hello again! it’s been a little bit, but i’m back as a reward for getting a long-ass essay done! this will be the first of probably several plot-related changes i’ll be making to the story, starting with something with a lot of potential: the relics and the maidens. i’ll be going into my personal rewrite of the story of the maidens, and then their powers, and how they interact with the relics and vaults.

this will be the first part: the origins of the maidens, story-wise. the second part will be the mechanics of the maidens and relics, and how they interact with the story at large.

if you’re still interested, there’ll be more under the cut!

so, the first thing i’m going to do is alter the mythos surrounding the maidens. i like the idea of a bunch of girls visiting a hermit, but i’d like to expand upon it. firstly, i’d like for the hermit to have a bit more character. i’ve opted to name him kurloz, as he’s a bit different than most of the other ozma reincarnations we’ve seen, and i wanted his name to reflect that.

the hermit is a hermit for a reason: he’s come into his own, realizing that he isn’t really himself, but i also think that he keeps himself sequestered away because he really doesn’t know what to do. this is where the maidens come in.

the gods of light and darkness outlined four virtues that define humanity: knowledge, creation, destruction, and choice. i want to add to these virtues that they can be used for evil as easily as they can for good. the four maidens, along with being manifestations of seasons, should also embody these virtues strongly, both in their original iterations, and in the people who hold the maiden powers. these virtues connect the maidens and the relics: the relic of creation will only grow into its full potential in the hands of the spring maiden- the embodiment of creation. i did also swap the relic/maiden lineup, but i’ll go into that as well.

so, the story goes as follows:

long ago, a hermit lived deep in the forest, in a cabin away from all of civilization. his home had the strange ability to attract those who he wanted to speak to, and deter those he didn’t. the winding woods around his home were mazes to those with impure intentions.

during the winter, the hermit was visited by a young woman. by her opulent dress of blue and white silks and lace, she was a noble, the heiress to a faraway throne. she greeted the hermit politely, and he knew after a bit of talking that she was wise beyond her few years. they spoke for a while about science and art, the advancements the hermit had missed in his decades of hiding. the hermit, satisfied with what he’d learned of the maiden, asked her a question: in a world gone mad, what would she do to fix it?

the maiden replied, “share your knowledge with the people of the world. you cannot vanquish an enemy you do not know exists.” the hermit, who had been paralyzed by fear because of his knowledge, was surprised. the maiden continued, “knowledge eliminates fear. it shows you that all there is to fear is the unknown. the only choices that matter are life or death. all else are reached with knowledge.”

the hermit sat with this insight for a time. as the maiden stood, he asked that she visit again in the middle of the next year, when the sun was at its highest. she politely agreed, and with a bow, she left the hermit with his thoughts.

as winter changed to spring, and the flowers began to blossom, the hermit was visited by another young woman. by the dirt covering her overalls, and the strength in her body, she was a humble farmer. she carried a bushel of fresh fruits, and ran toward the hermit, offering him a few of what she��d harvested. in the blooming grove, they spoke of the beginnings of spring, what would grow and blossom, and what would be done with all that emerged. the hermit, amused with the maiden’s enthusiasm, asked her a question: in a world gone mad, what would she do to fix it?

the maiden thought as she chewed a tart she’d made. smiling, she replied, “the world is mad, sure, but look at all the good in it! we must take the seeds of goodness, plant and nurture them, and wait for better to grow.” the hermit, who had seen new worlds war with one another, was surprised. the maiden continued, “everyone has to work together to create a better world. i can’t tell you alone what better looks like, just as you can’t tell me that either.”

the hermit sat with this insight for a time. as the maiden gathered up her baskets and bags, the hermit asked that she visit again in the middle of the next year, when she sun was at its highest. after leaving the hermit with a bag of seeds, she agreed, and bounded back into the woods, leaving the hermit with his thoughts.

as spring turned to summer, and the heat took the forest, the hermit was visited by yet another young woman. bandits had somehow found their way to his home, but a huntress, identifiable by her masterful combat prowess, managed to defeat them. rather than dispatch them, she scolded them for attacking a defenseless old man, and shooed them away. the maiden, armed with masterfully-crafted weapons, was patched up by the hermit as she spoke about everything she had done, the people she’d saved and killed. the hermit, stricken by the maiden’s perseverance, asked her a question: in a world gone mad, what would she do to fix it?

as she rolled her stiff shoulder, the maiden replied: “make up your mind! you claim to care so deeply for the strifes of the world, and yet you sit and do nothing but think! you let the world burn while you ruminate.” the hermit, offended by the gall of this maiden, was speechless. the maiden continued, “get off of your ass, leave this little shack, and do something.” 

the hermit sat with this insight for a long time. as the maiden gathered up her weapons and tightened her bandages, the hermit asked that she visit again in the middle of the next year, when the sun was at its highest. she grumbled out an agreement, and after thrusting a simple firearm into the hermit’s hands, she left in a huff.

and as the leaves crinkled and turned yellow and brown, and the cool breeze of autumn took the woods, a final young woman visited the hermit. she was silent, almost shy as she simply sat on the hermit’s porch, with an unreadable expression on her face. the hermit emerged, offered her tea and company as she sorted through what she felt. in an attempt to break the silence, the hermit asked her a question: in a world gone mad, what would she do to fix it?

the maiden bit the inside of her cheek. after a moment of silence, she replied: “this world is broken beyond repair. if it seeks endlessly to destroy us, maybe we should destroy it first.” the hermit, having sequestered himself for fear of doing just that, was appalled. seeing the hermit’s fear, the maiden continued, “we’ve ruined this world. we war and kill constantly. maybe if we burn everything down, something better will grow in the fertile soil.”

the hermit sat with this insight for a long time. as the maiden stood, she confessed that someone she loved was taken from her. the hermit offered his condolences, and asked that she visit him again in the middle of the next year, when the sun was at its highest. she only gave a nod before she vanished back into the woods.

the middle of the next year came quickly enough. the hermit, excited about the return of the maidens, had set out food and drink on his porch. the maidens from winter, spring, summer, and fall arrived in sequence, bringing their own gifts for the hermit. the winter maiden brought a collection of all the hermit had missed in his hermitage. the spring maiden brought cakes and tarts, all made from the produce she’d grown. the summer maiden brought a set of weapons, a sword and bow, for the hermit to use as he wished. the fall maiden brought tinder for the hermit’s fireplace, for the coming autumn and winter.

at the end of their feast, the hermit revealed himself to be a powerful sorcerer of old, who had been waiting for someone to prove themselves worthy of his power. the sorcerer granted the winter maiden power over ice and cold, and the power to use her intellect to keep her enemies at bay. he granted the spring maiden power over plant, flower, and vine, and the power to create flora to aid in her companion’s fights. she granted the summer maiden power over wind, and storm, and the ability to choose who to blow close, and who to sweep away. he granted the fall maiden power over fire, and the ability to destroy the enemies of the new world she wanted.

the magic of the maidens, over time, was shaped by the strength of their wills. the virtues they embodied gave their magic a type of sentience, that would seek out those who exemplified their virtues. in time, the maidens learned of the relics from another oz, and used their combined powers to create vaults that only they could open. the winter maiden's lamp of knowledge was kept in the first’s home nation: mistral. the spring maiden’s staff of creation was kept in the second’s home nation: mantle. the summer maiden’s crown of choice was kept in the third’s home nation: vale. the fall maiden’s sword of destruction was kept in the fourth’s home nation: vacuo. the academies built above these vaults were informed by the maidens, and the governments kept close tabs on where their respective maidens were. the goal was to keep the maidens and relics separate, until a significant threat called for them to be gathered. after all, the maidens were the only people alive with the power to present the relics to the gods, to summon them to judge the state of the world.

with that, i hope you enjoyed my retelling of the maiden myth! i’ll be going into how this influences the story in the second part of this mini-series.

if you have any feedback, feel free to send me an ask!

[dascarecrow]

Death Battle - Oscar Pine

Wiz- Since humanity’s earliest age the world of Remnant has been plagued by the creatures of Grimm. 

Boomstick- AKA a cheap rip off of the Heartless. These bad boys are destruction incarnate which sounds awesome at first but it really just means they live to ruin your day. 

Wiz- Yet for as long as the Grimm have haunted humanity they have been protected by the elite warriors known as Huntsmen. 

Boomstick- These kick ass fighters are the best of the best and the baddest of the bad. They also wield some of the most awesome weapons ever made. Because nearly all of them? Are also a gun. 

Wiz- Huntsmen are trained at combat academies across the world. And the greatest of them are trained at the main academies of each major kingdom. Shade Academy in Vacuo, Haven Academy in Mistral, Atlas Academy in Atlas- 

Boomstick- Real original there. 

Wiz- And Beacon Academy in Vale. 

Boomstick- Man a school where you learn how to beat the snot out of people, hunt evil monsters and build cool weapons? If they had that kind of curriculum when I was in high school I definitely would have paid more attention. At least try to get a B+ on something instead of all those Fs and Cs. 

Wiz- Unknown to the public however is that the headmasters of each Academy are part of a secret alliance dedicated to protecting the people of Remnant and ensuring their prosperity led by the headmaster Beacon Academy, Ozpin. 

Boomstick- And like any good conspiracy the Ozluminati knows a whole bunch of secrets. Like the true origin of Dust and who faked the moon breaking. 

Wiz- One of the greatest secrets that they have kept is existence of magic in Remnant. 

Boomstick- Like actual wave your hand and make stuff happen magic. Which I don’t really get keeping hidden. I mean Huntsmen can do a whole bunch of stuff that’s pretty much magic anyways. And even stuff that magic doesn’t do. So why hide it from people?

Wiz- That’s actually because of the prospective dangers that magic could bring. 

Boomstick- Oh yeah like what? 

*Scenes play of Raven, Penny and Fria using their magic and devastating their enemies* 

Boomstick- Never mind. I’ll take being able to call up hurricanes whenever I want over a scythe that turns into a rifle. 

Wiz- Ozpin led the other headmasters and select other agents in keeping several secrets, including magic, hidden away because he feared the turmoil and destruction that would result if they were ever discovered. 

Boomstick- And it actually went pretty well. Remnant had it’s problems but it was actually looking pretty good. Until some crazy fire lady *a picture of Cinder appears* found out about magic, went “I want me some of that”, teamed up with a terrorist organization and decided to get her hands on the nearest available bit of magic. Which was hidden under Beacon Academy. 

Wiz- Dark forces would attack in the tragedy that would become known as the Fall of Beacon. The school would be devastated, the students harmed and traumatized beyond measure and Ozpin himself would fall during the battle. But this would not be the end for Ozpin. 

Boomstick- Yeah turns out Dumbledore here actually had quite a few secrets of his own. One of which is that he was at this job a lot longer than anyone ever knew. 

Wiz- In ancient times the Gods of Light and Darkness who had created Remnant saw the trials humanity endured to survive with each passing day and sought to give their creation a chance at salvation. They reached into the afterlife and returned to Remnant the greatest warrior to ever walk its surface, a mage knight known as Ozma.  

Boomstick- Of course because Gods are kind of jerks they gave the Wizard of Oz a skewed deal.  

Wiz- The Gods tasked Ozma with uniting humanity together and calling them to return to Remnant so they may pass judgement. Should humanity be in harmony upon their return the Gods would walk alongside them once more and grant to humanity grand gifts as reward. 

Boomstick- Not a bad deal really. Everyone plays all nice and you get some sweet magic powers out of it. Why wouldn’t you want to do that? 

Wiz- But if the Gods returned to find humanity divided and selfishly demanding that which was never theirs then it would be final day Remnant would ever see for humanity would be destroyed. 

Boomstick- Oh right. How is that supposed to work then? I mean the gods come back and they see some guys arguing over their favorite sports team and they just go “Your no good. Gonna kill you all”. I mean I get the appeal of having magic powers but does that really outweigh complete genocide? Huntsmen have their own personal superpowers and Dust is as good as magic anyway.  

Wiz- Regardless Ozma agreed to the gods request, motivated by his sense of justice and belief in the inherent good of humanity. 

Boomstick- And the chance to see his ex again. *Picture of Salem appears* Can’t forget about that. 

Wiz- Indeed. Of course the Gods recognized that the work they tasked Ozma with could take quite some time so they made arrangements which resulted in a rather unusual return for him. 

Boomstick- The Gods kind of have a thing against full blown resurrection so they didn’t just zap their newest employee back to Remnant. No they decided to stuff Ozzy Osbourne’s soul into some random sucker so he could get to work. 

Wiz- The Gods did not wish Ozma to bear the burden of his work alone so they made it that he would return in the body of another, which carried a like minded soul that his own would merge with. In the course of his work Ozma would discover that death was no longer the same for him. 

Boomstick- The Gods basically made him the Avatar. *Shows picture of Aang* Whenever Willy Wonka wound up biting it his soul would crop up again in some other schmuck and merge with whatever soul was already living there. Rinse and repeat for the next few thousand years. 

Wiz- The man known as Ozpin would wind up being the latest in this long line of reincarnations, continuing his past lives work in uniting the people of Remnant so they may pass the Gods Judgement.  

Boomstick- And once Gandalf here was down for the count it was time for another round of musical souls. Where he stops who the heck knows. 

Wiz- Ozpin’s would wind up reincarnating in a young farmhand known as Oscar Pine, who would find himself continuing the work that Ozma had began millennia ago and the inheritor of his countless lives knowledge and power. 

Boomstick- Man I don’t know who to feel worse for. Pinecone for having an old dude stuck in his head that can see all of his private thoughts. Or the Clockwork Wizard for being stuck in the head of a kid that’s just starting puberty.  

Wiz- As a result of this merger of souls Oscar would inherit Ozpin’s memories and more importantly his fighting skill and powers. 

Boomstick- As the headmaster of a school for hunting literal soulless monsters Ozpin knew how to throw down with the best of them and Oscar got everything the old professor knew downloaded straight to his brain, none of that pesky learning stuff the hard way needed. He would even be given Ozpin’s own personal weapon... a cane. A cane. That was seriously this guys weapon? He fights for thousands of years to protect humanity, counter hordes of dark mosters and try to make it so the Gods give Remnant a passing grade and his personal way of beating people up was with a walking stick. Starting to see why it took him so long to get people up to snuff. 

Wiz- Don’t be so quick to judge Boomstick. Ozpin was supremely gifted with his weapon, often using it like a rapier to rapidly jab at enemies and wear them down faster then they could respond. *Scenes of Ozpin’s fight with Cinder* And because he has Ozpin’s memories Oscar can do this just as well. *Scenes of Oscar’s fight with Hazel* However Oscar has chosen to focus on his own fighting style instead of simply repeating Ozpin’s. Oscar’s own personal style has a greater emphasis on striking power than  speed, being centered around strong, focused blows instead of the rapid fire technique Ozpin preferred. 

Boomstick- Finally someone who gets that the best way of doing things is by hitting the crap out of them as hard as possible. And it works pretty well for the farm boy. He was able to one shot a Sabyr, which was about two and a half times his size. And keep in mind Grimm are pretty much all bulk. Oscar pretty much killed that thing by stabbing it with a blunt object. Not to mention that he was able to smack someone so hard that they tumbled down the stairs and made Hazel stagger back a few feet when they collided with him. Hazel, who was able to catch the mini wrecking ball that is Magnhild and was stabbed through his stomach by a giant ice wasp and got back up like it was nothing.  

Wiz- Given the loss of energy that would have resulted from rolling down the steps and Hazel’s own notable durability then we can safely say that Oscar used an extreme amount of force in this one attack. 

Boomstick- And if Alpine gets tired of trying to whack people with a overhyped brake lever than he has some decent hand to hand skill as well. He was able to round a corner, close the distance and punch Neo so hard that she went flying down the hallway, all faster than she could react. And Neo’s whole thing is that she can literally dance around just about anyone like they’re moving in slow motion. Oscar was able to outpace her a few times during their fight and that’s immediately after he’d already taken some bad hits. She’d have done even worse if he’d been starting fresh. Not bad for a farm hand. 

Wiz- Oscar’s impressive performance is probably helped by his Aura. 

Boomstick- You mean that rip off of the force from Pokemon? Wait do Pokemon live on Remnant? Are the Grimm actually Pokemon and they’re what happens when humanity doesn’t learn how to make Pokeballs? Does this mean animal slavery is actually perfectly justified? 

Wiz- No. On all acccounts. 

Boomstick (disappointed)- Aaaaah. 

Aura 

- Grants shielding 

- Empowers strikes 

- Environmental Protection 

- Heightened Awareness 

- Enhances Healing 

Wiz- Aura is the soul made manifest, the user’s essence rendered into tangible form. 

Boomstick- Is that supposed to be arousing or the complete opposite? 

Wiz- Aura grants anyone who possesses it a great many benefits, primarily in terms of defense. Anyone with an active Aura automatically receives a shield that protects them from harm and damage. Oscar was able to take hits from flaming boulders and barely showed any hint that he even felt the attack. 

Boomstick- Wait, wait, wait. You mean that if someone gets this Aura stuff they automatically become invulnerable to being hurt? Wiz I’m calling in three of the favors you owe me to give me some of that stuff. 

Wiz- Aura doesn’t just prevent users from coming to harm though. It can also enhance striking power, be channeled through weaponry to increase it’s power, protect the user from harsh environmental factors like extreme cold, give someone heightened awareness of their surrounding to the point they can detect approaching enemies and even boost one’s healing. 

Boomstick- Alright Wiz I’ll make it seven favors and I’ll use Jocelyn’s credit card the next time I get drunk and come up with an awesome idea. Man thousands of years of of combat experience and a personal force field that increases strength and healing? This kid must kick all sorts of- 

*Montage of Oscar getting attacked by Ruby, Qrow, Jaune, the Hound and ends with him being shot by Ironwood* 

Boomstick- *now depressed* Oh right. Aura kind of sucks. 

Wiz- While Aura is formidable it does have it’s limits. Every blow it takes will cause one’s Aura to wear down and deplete. The stronger the hit the more damage Aura will take from it. And even those gifted with extraordinary amounts can’t maintain it indefinitely. 

Boomstick- Yep. Take it from me folks it doesn’t matter how big the bottle is. If you keep drinking from it, sooner or later you’re going to run out. 

Wiz- And once it’s completely depleted Aura will break, leaving the user vulnerable. 

Boomstick- How the heck does that work? I mean it’s your soul. You always have it. So shouldn’t this Aura stuff always be going? And if it breaks shouldn’t you I don’t know die or something? 

Wiz- To be exact Aura isn’t actually the user’s soul, but rather a type of energy harnessed from it. So it’s depletion and breaking isn’t actually fatal to the user. It also isn’t something that runs automatically. Aura has to be consciously activated and dismissed by the user. So it is possible for someone to be caught off guard because they don’t their Aura running. 

Boomstick- Figures. You find a super cool energy that can give everyone super powers and it turns out to suck eggs. 

Wiz- Well just because your Aura runs out doesn’t mean it’s the end of fight. It does recover over time and trained users can speed up how fast it rebuilds with just a bit of focus and willpower. Oscar’s teammate Jaune has shown the ability to restore his Aura after focusing for a brief moment. And given Ozpin’s countless lifetimes of experience it stands to reason that Oscar has the ability to do this as well.  

Boomstick- And even if Oscar’s Aura does wind up failing him he still has a few tricks up his sleeve. Magic ones. Remember Ozma wasn’t just a highly skilled warrior he was also gifted mage. So his whole conga line of souls also gets cool magic powers. 

Magic 

Controls the elements (fire, ice, wind , lightning, etc.) 

Energy blasts 

Creates shields 

Telekinetic movement 

Wiz- Quite right Boomstick among all the denizens of Remnant, Oscar is one of the rare few gifted with magic in the current age. While the exact abilities Oscar can use are nebulous we can infer some details going by what other magic users have done. He can unleash streams of pure power as an attack. 

Boomstick- And these emerald streamers pack a punch. Salem was able to shrug off Hazel literally splattering her all over the ground and returned the beating without missing a beat. 

Wiz- While Salem can regenerate from any damage done to her she still feels pain and can be hurt, even if the damage is undone. 

Boomstick- Oscar brought her to her knees with one blast of his magic, which also left her in visible pain. So it’s safe to say he hit her way harder than Hazel was able to. And that guy dropped a friggin meteor on top of her. *Shows clip of Hazel doing just that* 

Wiz- We have also seen magic be shaped into different forms so presumably Oscar can do this as well. His past lives have been seen creating fields of magic that can move others in a telekinetic fashion and there’s no reason to believe Oscar can’t still do so in present day, albeit not quite on the scale Ozma was once able to. 

Boomstick- Yeah one of the lives of Doctor Who did something kind of dumb. A bunch of sisters came by his house and were all “hope, joy and love” and he decided to give them almost all of his magic because of good vibes or something. I mean why would you give up actual magic powers that made you such a kick ass knight in the first place?  

Wiz- (annoyed) Anyways... Oscar lacks the reserves of magic power that Ozma once held and while we don’t have an exact measure we’re going to go with about a rate of 5 to 10 percent remaining. Fortunately for Oscar magic doesn’t deplete the way Aura does so he can use it almost without limit. And the power of the Maidens, that is the sisters he gave his magic to, gives us a view of what Oscar can accomplish. Namely the power of the elements 

Elemental Magic 

Fire  

Ice 

Lightning 

Wind 

Plant life 

Boomstick- Most folks on Remnant can do stuff like throw around fireballs or lightning bolts with the use of Dust. But magic lets you do that stuff all on your own and with no limit either. 

Wiz- Mind you Oscar’s lesser reserves mean he can’t do anything on the scale of the Maidens but he does still have the capacity to control the elements, just to a lesser degree than most magic users.  But the greatest asset magic grants Oscar is his shield. 

Boomstick- Don’t let the fact that it looks like a glass bubble fool you, this mystical barrier is actually pretty sturdy. It’s stood up to the full power of the Fall Maiden, allowed Oscar to survive a several miles long fall without any injury whatsoever and is so strong that it let him crash right through the bottom of Atlas and keep on going with no problem. 

Wiz- Actually Boomstick that last feat wasn’t a result of Oscar’s magic. 

Boomstick- Oh? I guess you’re going to tell me that glorified bike handle of his did it. 

Wiz- It did as a matter of fact. 

Boomstick- Wait what? How is that possible? It’s a cane for crying out loud. It’s something old people use for getting around and whupping the young, not the tool of a seasoned warrior and mage. 

Wiz- Oscar’s cane, much like it’s holder, far more than it appears and has quite a few surprises. 

Boomstick- Oh this should be good. 

The Long Memory 

Oscar’s personal weapon 

Once wielded by Ozpin 

Incredibly durable 

Focus for magic 

Stores kinetic energy 

Wiz- Oscar’s weapon, known as the Long Memory, is a collapsible cane that he carries at almost all times. The cane itself is highly durable, able to take hits from a Dust empowered Hazel without any sign of strain or damage. Hazel boasted immense physical strength on his lonesome and the benefit of Dust significantly increased his damage output.  

Boomstick- Okay so it’s a pretty strong cane. But it’s still just a cane. 

Wiz- The Long Memory is also a channel and focus for Oscar’s magic, enabling him to use it on a higher scale than he would be able to on his own merits. 

Boomstick- Oh like a magic wand. 

Wiz- More like a scepter. 

Boomstick- Like a magic staff? 

Wiz- Scepter. 

Boomstick- I get you, it’s like a magic rod. 

Wiz- Boomstick I swear if I have to get the shock collar again... 

Boomstick- Geez calm down Wiz I’m just funning ya. So this walking stick is pretty much a *Wiz glares at Boomstick* “magic scepter” that lets pine tree use magic better than he can by himself. That’s kind of cool actually but why make it something that looks like an emergency brake? 

Wiz- The Long Memory has one more special trick, completely separate from Aura and magic. It can store and carry kinetic energy. 

Boomstick- I’m sorry what kind of energy? 

Wiz- *exasperated* Stuff that make bullets go shoot. 

Boomstick- I know what it is Wiz. No need to get snippy. Man you are so juvenile. Anyways why is that so special? 

Wiz- *trying to be professional* With each passing moment and every blow struck The Long Memory accumulates kinetic energy and having been crafted centuries ago it has quite a reservoir of power to access. Oscar can access this stored up energy whenever he wishes, unleashing bolts and waves sheer power. This allowed him to blast a hole through the bottom of Atlas when he was sent plummeting to his doom in the Vault of the Winter Maiden. 

Boomstick- Huh. Not a bad parlor trick I’ll admit but how much damage can he really do with that thin- 

*Scene of Oscar destroying Monstra plays* 

Boomstick stares in open mouthed shock while Wiz looks on with a smug grin.  

Wiz- You were saying? 

Boomstick- HOLY MOTHERF*BLEEP*ING S*BLEEP*T!  Did that kid just fire off a magic nuke?  

Wiz-To be fair Oscar can’t throw around attacks like that too often. This particular instance used up the majority of stored up power that the Long Memory had available. And that power was gathered across several lifetimes if not centuries. He definitely wouldn’t be able to use an attack on this level repeatedly. He would be able to recover some of the kinetic energy however because the Long Memory gathers and stores it away automatically. Smaller expenditures may not necessarily be reclaimed but the cane would definitely avoid running completely out of power with this aspect of it’s abilities. Anything you’d like to add Boomstick?

Boomstick- *still in shock* I-, Yeah not really, my mind is going to be stuck on that nuke thing for a while. 

Wiz- *shrugging it off* Okay then. Come back in a few days where we’ll cover Oscar’s opponent, Izuku Midoriya.