- Location
- Lynn, MA
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
The same thing that happens when the ghostbusters cross streams.
-
For all readers and writers
After much ado, our new tagging system is here and being rolled out to the userbase. Read more here!
The Other Path [RWBY SI] [AHOIAC AU]
- Thread starter shadenight123
- Start date
So either it goes extremely well, or the fabric of reality decides to become more of a sieve of reality.
Rogue Gemini
Wanderer without a Twin
- Location
- Here
Mythbusters' own Adam Savage is the man who you want to look for there. It's where I first heard of the line.
Edit: after a quick look, he was quoting Dungeonmaster (1984).
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Chez on the Beach. By Fragnostic
Fragnostic
Cheshire
- Location
- Neko City
Snow globes are usually half-spheres though...
Also, have a Chez because latest chapter reminded me how cute she is.
The Wren train is nothing compared to the Shade train which has no breaks and no brakes!
Also, have a Chez because latest chapter reminded me how cute she is.
The next step is a Schnee Glome Wren. A 3-sphere or 3-n hypersphere shall propel you to even greater heights. And surely Foodhalla will show you the way. And just as Valkyries take you to Valhalla, so shall Falyries take you to Foodhalla.
Rejoice
Exsequens
I Ent Dead!
- Location
- Back in the Toaster.
You know, the real flaw of martyrs sometimes is the loyalty they invoke in others.
The almost fall of Atlas was a hard teacher in the causality of acting for justice, save your mother, doom your brother, your not father, and many innocents to the literal gravitas of the situation.
This time, Wren discovers that he can sacrifice everything he has to keep others safe, and in turn others will sacrifice themselves to keep him safe. Otherwise with Zhelty having exchanged the necrosis in Wren's arms for her new prosthetic, methinks Wren may have chained themselves in to the Zhelty route hard here.
May he take heed of this and take it to heart, otherwise one day he will turn around to realize there's no one left because to save everyone he sacrificed everything, and everyone sacrificed themselves to save him.
The almost fall of Atlas was a hard teacher in the causality of acting for justice, save your mother, doom your brother, your not father, and many innocents to the literal gravitas of the situation.
This time, Wren discovers that he can sacrifice everything he has to keep others safe, and in turn others will sacrifice themselves to keep him safe. Otherwise with Zhelty having exchanged the necrosis in Wren's arms for her new prosthetic, methinks Wren may have chained themselves in to the Zhelty route hard here.
May he take heed of this and take it to heart, otherwise one day he will turn around to realize there's no one left because to save everyone he sacrificed everything, and everyone sacrificed themselves to save him.
Didn't know that but in any case, what I meant was that I thought this sentence popped up in a previous Shade fic but didn't know which one.
Contramancer
Sanity? What's that?
- Location
- Bundaberg, Queensland, Australia
Of course, now you need to have them actually find the Foodhalla Truck Stop and Eatery, run by a one-eyed old man called Odin Grey and his family...
Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen
Foodhalla existed. It was a quaint looking place by the walls, and its name was actually Hot Snakes, or so the cheap sign by the entrance said; a place that served all manners of food, for all manners of individuals. The portions were massive, the prices cheap, and the crowd rowdy enough that I could yell and not be heard by anyone at all.
Contrary to the usual, I wasn't surrounded on both sides by Chez and Zhelty, but rather by Yang on one side and Weiss on the other. Gorm was helpfully pointing out some latest advancements in his weapon to Ruby, who was listening keenly and with glittering eyes, her mind probably lost in the fascination for Mechashift weaponry. Blake was trying to hold a serious face, attempting to listen in to what I was saying, but at the same time Chez was in full-out 'bothersome' mode, and thus doing her very best to annoy her fellow Faunus.
Zhelty was looking at the food in front of her, which easily dwarfed her entire size, and grumbled something about the unfairness of it all before splitting her chopsticks and getting right into it, determination lighting fires in her eyes.
I glanced at the vast amount of steaks that somehow ended up on my platters, and as I munched on the first one with barely an afterthought, I started planning on how to best deliver this kind of critically important news without shocking people too much.
"So," I said, "A few thousand years ago, somebody fucked up."
Yes, that was the way to go about it. By the time the story was finished, I could hazard a guess that Yang had finally understood just how fucked up the entire situation was.
"So, wait," Yang muttered, "Headmaster Ozpin is actually thousands of years old, and reincarnates, and he also was the King of Vale and-and there are these powerful relics that-and I can open one door to such a relic of 'knowledge' and..." she stammered, and then placed both hands to cover her face. "Urgh. Kill me now. I don't want to deal with this!"
"Does this mean Yang can do magic now?" Weiss asked instead, "Call down lightning from the sky and all of that?"
"With enough training, I suppose she could, which I guess only someone like Ozpin could give, or perhaps if she concentrates enough she might manage on her own," I mused right back.
"Cool," Yang said, "Winner of the next Vytal tournament, here I come."
"Right, the Vytal tournament's next year!" Weiss exclaimed. I blinked at that tidbit of information. Was it really? Uh, so it was. We participated as second years from Vacuo, and would participate again as fourth years.
"Not going to help you win," Gorm said, suddenly interested. "Whatever it is, you're not going to win. I'm betting on Wren, as always."
"Heh, might be time for the rematch of the century then," Yang mused with a dry grin. "You're going to eat the dirt!"
"Please," Weiss rolled her eyes. "As if my brother wouldn't be able to get even stronger in a year!" she clicked her tongue, showing off how the thought of me losing to Yang would be incredibly offensive to her pride as little sister.
A bulky man with dirty straw colored hair took the cue to arrive before the squabbling could degenerate with a large platter filled with some kind of strange combination of hamburgers, filled with different toppings and sauces. A large sausage shaped like a snake was binding the whole bundle of hamburgers together, keeping it from spilling or falling over. "Who ordered the Ragnarok Special!?" the man gruffly grumbled.
"We did!" Zhelty said, hand raised while Chez grinned brightly.
I stared at the amount of hamburgers left in front of her, and then made a mental calculation of the size of the whole thing compared to hers.
"Wren, stop thinking rude thoughts!" Zhelty added the very next second, her eyes zeroing on me and narrowing. "I know what you're thinking!"
"She's become even more of a fairy of the forest, now she knows what we think!" Gorm teasingly added with a deep chuckle, "Run Wren! Run for the woods!"
"But wouldn't that give her the home advantage?" I retorted with a snicker of my home, before a hamburger came flying, fried onions and greasy bacon within two sides of a bread bun, towards my face. I grabbed hold of it with my hand, and then munched on it. "Thanks for the side-dish!"
With a series of grumbling noises from Zhelty's side and Chez giggling all the while as she took her own part to eat, I returned my attention to my immediate surroundings.
"Returning to the matter at hand, I don't know what Ozpin is going to do with your magical powers," I said offhandedly. "From what I do know, the Maidens are all kind of left to their own devices, but away from civilization, roaming the wilderness of the Kingdoms for some reason I can't quite properly parse," I sighed. "You should keep what you are, and what you can do, a secret."
"Because otherwise an immortal hag-witch is going to come down and kill me?" Yang said with a grin. "I'd like to see her try."
"I wouldn't," I muttered with a dreadful sigh. "Because if she does come down, there's only running away."
"But if that's the case, then why didn't she do that already?" Weiss asked, "If she's so powerful and immortal, why not just solve the issue by herself?"
"Because it's kind of hard to kill all the ants in a garden, Weiss," I answered right back. "You can destroy the anthill, but the ants are going to scatter. Doesn't matter how powerful you are, some ants are going to slip through the cracks, and then make new anthills. So it's useless to try that. You're left with infiltrating the anthill, attempting to take it down from within, cause only an anthill can destroy another anthill down to the last ant."
"What about anteaters?" Blake mused, "White and black anteaters, that is."
I chuckled, "You use those too. Still, take Mistral for example, prided for being the place to go when you want to hide. Doesn't matter how many anteaters you have if you don't know where the ants are building their new nests."
"But the Headmaster has a plan, doesn't he?" Ruby asked, "Something incredibly smart that will save the world."
I sighed, and then smiled.
"Course he does," I lied, "But I'm not at the liberty of saying what it is just yet."
"Then everything's fine," Yang said, rolling her eyes and flexing her muscles, "And anyway, I ain't afraid of no witch. I'll zap her ass if she comes near!"
"I hope this means we will be taking our studies, and our training, even more seriously than before," Weiss said, flatly looking towards Ruby who in turn disappeared behind her own platter of food, trying her hardest to act like she wasn't even there to begin with.
"Oh? Maybe we could train together!" Chez said, "That way Wren can get distracted more easily and I can escape faster!"
I glanced in her direction, and Chez returned me a fully powered teasing grin. She stuck her tongue out, and I threw a steak at maximum power towards her. Like a dog catching a treat, she grabbed the food piece in mid-air with her teeth, and then slurped it down as if rather than a steak, it had been a noodle of sorts.
"Don't feed the stray, or she'll keep following you," Zhelty retorted with a snicker of her own.
"Meanie!" Chez snapped back, huffing and then glancing down at her portion of the Ragnarok Combo Meal. She had a devilish smile on her face, even as her hands went for the sausages. With a snap, the sausage-lasso flew through the air and I absentmindedly ended up biting on one end of it since it was coming for my face.
A second later, like watching Pac-Man go through the yellow dots, Chez moved nimbly and swiftly across the table. Before she could reach the natural end of the sausage-line, Zhelty proceeded to cut it with two Onion-Rings thrown as a shuriken.
"Is this going to be a food fight?" Ruby's eyes shone.
Gorm quietly pulled out his betting pool chest.
"No," I said flatly, "I'm pulling Team Leader rank. No food fighting in a restaurant. We don't want to be-"
"Ah, it's fine lass!" the old, grey-bearded man with only one eye yelled from the kitchen, a noodle-cooking pot on his head, and a ladle in his other hand. "It's on the menu!"
I blinked at that as a waitress wearing some kind of loose chainmail armor swung by, actually showing the very bottom order of the menu.
Food War - Fight with what you don't want to eat anymore, or eat whatever they throw your way! Excellent way of training your reflexes, and getting free food if you're quick enough!
Chez and Zhelty both stood still, both at the ready. Zhelty had more onion-ring-shurikens, and Chez had somehow gotten her hands on two large pieces of salad which were fan-shaped.
"Food fight?" Ruby asked, her voice a whine and her eyes glimmering as she looked at me.
Weiss bristled, but then calmly filched a baguette from nearby, standing at the ready just in case.
"No," I said in the end, flatly. "No food fight."
A chorus of displeased groans echoed through the room, and the waiters at large. I rolled my eyes as Chez finished prowling her way back to her spot, a sad look on her face.
Then, I slammed both of my hands on the table and my steaks went flying in the air.
"It's a food war, after all! Gorm, by my side!"
The steaks sailed as I grabbed and threw them, Gorm hopping backwards and grabbing two steaks in his hands just in time to parry an incoming noodle whip from Yang.
When we stepped out of the restaurant, I glanced briefly back at the restaurant's sign hanging limply from the entrance.
Hot Snakes: The Foodhalla Restaurant - Extreme Youth And Huntsmen!
It was because I wished to protect these things, after all, that I would fight even harder than before.
Foodhalla existed. It was a quaint looking place by the walls, and its name was actually Hot Snakes, or so the cheap sign by the entrance said; a place that served all manners of food, for all manners of individuals. The portions were massive, the prices cheap, and the crowd rowdy enough that I could yell and not be heard by anyone at all.
Contrary to the usual, I wasn't surrounded on both sides by Chez and Zhelty, but rather by Yang on one side and Weiss on the other. Gorm was helpfully pointing out some latest advancements in his weapon to Ruby, who was listening keenly and with glittering eyes, her mind probably lost in the fascination for Mechashift weaponry. Blake was trying to hold a serious face, attempting to listen in to what I was saying, but at the same time Chez was in full-out 'bothersome' mode, and thus doing her very best to annoy her fellow Faunus.
Zhelty was looking at the food in front of her, which easily dwarfed her entire size, and grumbled something about the unfairness of it all before splitting her chopsticks and getting right into it, determination lighting fires in her eyes.
I glanced at the vast amount of steaks that somehow ended up on my platters, and as I munched on the first one with barely an afterthought, I started planning on how to best deliver this kind of critically important news without shocking people too much.
"So," I said, "A few thousand years ago, somebody fucked up."
Yes, that was the way to go about it. By the time the story was finished, I could hazard a guess that Yang had finally understood just how fucked up the entire situation was.
"So, wait," Yang muttered, "Headmaster Ozpin is actually thousands of years old, and reincarnates, and he also was the King of Vale and-and there are these powerful relics that-and I can open one door to such a relic of 'knowledge' and..." she stammered, and then placed both hands to cover her face. "Urgh. Kill me now. I don't want to deal with this!"
"Does this mean Yang can do magic now?" Weiss asked instead, "Call down lightning from the sky and all of that?"
"With enough training, I suppose she could, which I guess only someone like Ozpin could give, or perhaps if she concentrates enough she might manage on her own," I mused right back.
"Cool," Yang said, "Winner of the next Vytal tournament, here I come."
"Right, the Vytal tournament's next year!" Weiss exclaimed. I blinked at that tidbit of information. Was it really? Uh, so it was. We participated as second years from Vacuo, and would participate again as fourth years.
"Not going to help you win," Gorm said, suddenly interested. "Whatever it is, you're not going to win. I'm betting on Wren, as always."
"Heh, might be time for the rematch of the century then," Yang mused with a dry grin. "You're going to eat the dirt!"
"Please," Weiss rolled her eyes. "As if my brother wouldn't be able to get even stronger in a year!" she clicked her tongue, showing off how the thought of me losing to Yang would be incredibly offensive to her pride as little sister.
A bulky man with dirty straw colored hair took the cue to arrive before the squabbling could degenerate with a large platter filled with some kind of strange combination of hamburgers, filled with different toppings and sauces. A large sausage shaped like a snake was binding the whole bundle of hamburgers together, keeping it from spilling or falling over. "Who ordered the Ragnarok Special!?" the man gruffly grumbled.
"We did!" Zhelty said, hand raised while Chez grinned brightly.
I stared at the amount of hamburgers left in front of her, and then made a mental calculation of the size of the whole thing compared to hers.
"Wren, stop thinking rude thoughts!" Zhelty added the very next second, her eyes zeroing on me and narrowing. "I know what you're thinking!"
"She's become even more of a fairy of the forest, now she knows what we think!" Gorm teasingly added with a deep chuckle, "Run Wren! Run for the woods!"
"But wouldn't that give her the home advantage?" I retorted with a snicker of my home, before a hamburger came flying, fried onions and greasy bacon within two sides of a bread bun, towards my face. I grabbed hold of it with my hand, and then munched on it. "Thanks for the side-dish!"
With a series of grumbling noises from Zhelty's side and Chez giggling all the while as she took her own part to eat, I returned my attention to my immediate surroundings.
"Returning to the matter at hand, I don't know what Ozpin is going to do with your magical powers," I said offhandedly. "From what I do know, the Maidens are all kind of left to their own devices, but away from civilization, roaming the wilderness of the Kingdoms for some reason I can't quite properly parse," I sighed. "You should keep what you are, and what you can do, a secret."
"Because otherwise an immortal hag-witch is going to come down and kill me?" Yang said with a grin. "I'd like to see her try."
"I wouldn't," I muttered with a dreadful sigh. "Because if she does come down, there's only running away."
"But if that's the case, then why didn't she do that already?" Weiss asked, "If she's so powerful and immortal, why not just solve the issue by herself?"
"Because it's kind of hard to kill all the ants in a garden, Weiss," I answered right back. "You can destroy the anthill, but the ants are going to scatter. Doesn't matter how powerful you are, some ants are going to slip through the cracks, and then make new anthills. So it's useless to try that. You're left with infiltrating the anthill, attempting to take it down from within, cause only an anthill can destroy another anthill down to the last ant."
"What about anteaters?" Blake mused, "White and black anteaters, that is."
I chuckled, "You use those too. Still, take Mistral for example, prided for being the place to go when you want to hide. Doesn't matter how many anteaters you have if you don't know where the ants are building their new nests."
"But the Headmaster has a plan, doesn't he?" Ruby asked, "Something incredibly smart that will save the world."
I sighed, and then smiled.
"Course he does," I lied, "But I'm not at the liberty of saying what it is just yet."
"Then everything's fine," Yang said, rolling her eyes and flexing her muscles, "And anyway, I ain't afraid of no witch. I'll zap her ass if she comes near!"
"I hope this means we will be taking our studies, and our training, even more seriously than before," Weiss said, flatly looking towards Ruby who in turn disappeared behind her own platter of food, trying her hardest to act like she wasn't even there to begin with.
"Oh? Maybe we could train together!" Chez said, "That way Wren can get distracted more easily and I can escape faster!"
I glanced in her direction, and Chez returned me a fully powered teasing grin. She stuck her tongue out, and I threw a steak at maximum power towards her. Like a dog catching a treat, she grabbed the food piece in mid-air with her teeth, and then slurped it down as if rather than a steak, it had been a noodle of sorts.
"Don't feed the stray, or she'll keep following you," Zhelty retorted with a snicker of her own.
"Meanie!" Chez snapped back, huffing and then glancing down at her portion of the Ragnarok Combo Meal. She had a devilish smile on her face, even as her hands went for the sausages. With a snap, the sausage-lasso flew through the air and I absentmindedly ended up biting on one end of it since it was coming for my face.
A second later, like watching Pac-Man go through the yellow dots, Chez moved nimbly and swiftly across the table. Before she could reach the natural end of the sausage-line, Zhelty proceeded to cut it with two Onion-Rings thrown as a shuriken.
"Is this going to be a food fight?" Ruby's eyes shone.
Gorm quietly pulled out his betting pool chest.
"No," I said flatly, "I'm pulling Team Leader rank. No food fighting in a restaurant. We don't want to be-"
"Ah, it's fine lass!" the old, grey-bearded man with only one eye yelled from the kitchen, a noodle-cooking pot on his head, and a ladle in his other hand. "It's on the menu!"
I blinked at that as a waitress wearing some kind of loose chainmail armor swung by, actually showing the very bottom order of the menu.
Food War - Fight with what you don't want to eat anymore, or eat whatever they throw your way! Excellent way of training your reflexes, and getting free food if you're quick enough!
Chez and Zhelty both stood still, both at the ready. Zhelty had more onion-ring-shurikens, and Chez had somehow gotten her hands on two large pieces of salad which were fan-shaped.
"Food fight?" Ruby asked, her voice a whine and her eyes glimmering as she looked at me.
Weiss bristled, but then calmly filched a baguette from nearby, standing at the ready just in case.
"No," I said in the end, flatly. "No food fight."
A chorus of displeased groans echoed through the room, and the waiters at large. I rolled my eyes as Chez finished prowling her way back to her spot, a sad look on her face.
Then, I slammed both of my hands on the table and my steaks went flying in the air.
"It's a food war, after all! Gorm, by my side!"
The steaks sailed as I grabbed and threw them, Gorm hopping backwards and grabbing two steaks in his hands just in time to parry an incoming noodle whip from Yang.
When we stepped out of the restaurant, I glanced briefly back at the restaurant's sign hanging limply from the entrance.
Hot Snakes: The Foodhalla Restaurant - Extreme Youth And Huntsmen!
It was because I wished to protect these things, after all, that I would fight even harder than before.
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Man this is awesome to see return.... Also the notification aren't working.
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
I kind of noticed when I realized there wasn't the usual number of people coming over to read the chapter.
Well, hopefully it gets fixed soonish, or perhaps it's already fixed?
- Location
- America, North Carolina
Huh that's weird that notifications didn't work for the thread but when shade posted it on his profile I got the notification
Chapter One Hundred and Sixteen
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
Chapter One Hundred and Sixteen
The world would keep on turning whether we wished for it or not. Days and nights would move, and hours would relentlessly come to pass as the clocks marked the inevitable changing of the seasons. It was strange how a functional huntsman academy, and some night terror-strikes, could change the public facade of Mistral.
The Huntsman academy of Heaven used to be a safe haven of lawfulness, near which the criminal families of Mistral didn't dare to tread upon. With Leonardo in charge, that had changed. With Qrow in charge in name only, and myself pretty much in charge in reality, the safety net of the huntsmen's presence extended outwards once more.
Thugs and petty criminals steered clear, not seeking a fight they couldn't possibly win, but waiting patiently for the perceived weakness to come to the front, a weakness I would not be allowing to show, even if there were multiple to my knowledge. We definitely needed more Lien, supporters of the Academy were few and in-between, and corruption did indeed work both ways.
If we refused to grant privilege to the wealthy, then the wealthy would pour their money elsewhere. If we instead allowed the wealthy to have the choice pick of the best huntsmen, we diminished the safety of the majority of the people. It was a balancing act, one which required finesse, great care, and an incredible amount of law-uplifting beatings.
At least Yang wasn't complaining going on Fundraising Events with Gorm. More often than not it was little different than having an actual protection racket, if with the knowledge that the people that were being beaten up were crime syndicate affiliates and pretty much owners of drug plantations, and whatnot.
We weren't going to bring light to the darkness of Mistral's caves. We weren't going to become righteous crusaders of justice and law across the whole Kingdom. Thus, in order to ensure we didn't take a more proactive approach in meting out justice, we had to be paid to keep ourselves busy elsewhere.
Stare long into the abyss, and eventually the abyss will stare back.
"We need to think about the missions for the first years," Blake pointed out helpfully, even as I dutifully finished scribbling down the latest report on the combat classes, cross-referencing it with the other 'Teachers' involved. If we had the money to pay for actual, professional huntsmen to come and teach, then we'd be set. However the real money had yet to come in. We were a ship that was floating, but not going at full speed.
The crew was willing, but not experienced.
We could show the ropes, but we couldn't show the tricks of the trade. At least, not all of them.
"Will they be able to cope with them?" I asked back, "Are all teams functional and trained enough?"
Will some of them die? That was the question that remained in my mind, unspoken yet easy to discern. My office had piles of neatly arranged documents, shelves filled with methodical precision in alphabetical order, and clutter was non-existent on my desk.
"Some could use some extra lessons," Blake acquiesced, "But they're all pretty much restless."
I nodded back. "We'll need to make the rounds and check on the offered missions at the Huntsmen Terminal, Academy privilege and whatnot. We'll also need to have them shadowed. Should be one teacher huntsman per squad, but we don't really have actual teachers-it will have to be pairs," I added. "Also, I can't send my Tax Collectors for obvious reasons."
Blake's lips twitched imperceptibly. "Yang won't be happy about that. She's the most vocal about going into a fight to try her new powers."
I sighed, "Then it's even better if she doesn't. Did she understand when I said that her powers will lead to trouble? She's to train them, but-"
"I'm sure she heard you just fine," Blake acquiesced, "And then forgot promptly about it once she managed to get sparks to fly out of her fingers."
I chuckled at that, "Youngsters these days, they see something shiny or cool, they forget about the dangers around them," I said in a mock-elderly tone.
The door of my office opened up with a fumbling click, and as the figure of Qrow Branwen stumbled in, Blake's nose wrinkled at the smell of alcohol pouring out from his entire frame. "Hey you," Qrow said with a drunken, lopsided grin, "Oz wants to talk with us."
I blinked, "He's here?"
"Nah, got a big screen in the headmaster's office-he wants us both," he chuckled, and drained his flask. He then threw it away, and grabbed a second one from his belt.
"You trying to give yourself alcohol poisoning or something?" I asked, even as I stood up from my desk to follow him.
"I'm not trying," Qrow grumbled, "I'm succeeding."
I rolled my eyes and walked by Qrow's side, the random students watching us go cheerfully waving in my direction with words that ranged from Prof to Professor, with a bit of a "My Kittens' Father!" when it came to encountering Chez, while Qrow just got the cold shoulder, if not the outright slightly more insulting "Drunkmaster."
Something told me it pissed him off quite mightily, since he let go of the second hip flask, still full, to grab a third one somewhere on his body. "You seriously have different flasks with different alcohols on your person?"
"Heh, sometimes the usual swill doesn't really cut it," he grumbled. "Once you get to my age, you realize that drinking really is the way to go. It's also the most painless."
"Not when your liver fails and you end up on dialysis," I pointed out, "Or you need someone to give you a piece of their liver, and since you're pretty much a rampant alcoholic, they're never going to find a donor, so you'll just die slowly and painfully in a hospital bed."
Qrow bristled, "You're one fucking bundle of joy, aren't you?" he did put the flask back into his pocket.
"Eh," I shrugged, "I am a bundle of joy. I'd also be kind of sad to see you go that way. There's a lot you can live for," I hummed. "How are your students doing anyway?"
"Bah, they're fine sports," Qrow grumbled. "Some had some problems at home, but I took care of those myself. Dam fish-bastard thinks he can pull one over me, he's got something coming," he snickered. "Probably would have suckered you in, but not me!" he sounded quite proud of himself, whatever it was he had done.
I merely hummed, nonchalantly opening the door to the headmaster's office and finding Winter already in there, arms crossed over her chest and actually glaring quite venomously, for a certain definition of it, in the direction of the large screen which was actually split in half. On one side was Headmaster Ozpin, Glynda Goodwitch by his side and on the other was Headmaster Ironwood.
"Specialist Schnee, once more, it is a need to know basis," Ironwood said curtly.
"I understand that, General, but I still fail to see the reason why you summoned my younger brother-" she began, only to stop once she realized we had come into the room.
"Hey Winter," I said with a smile. "They called you too?"
"No, we did not," Headmaster Ozpin said with a dreadful sigh. "Miss Schnee was just finishing delivering her report on the situation in Mistral, one not...adulterated by the current Headmaster," his eyes looked at Qrow, who in turn just shrugged back.
"I do say we could leave Specialist Schnee in charge," Ironwood pointed out. "Some Atlesian discipline would do the students good."
"And would be a reminder of the past war's alliances," Ozpin acquiesced right back, "But we have more pressing matters to discuss," he added, "As such, we should postpone this argument to another day."
"Very well," Ironwood answered. "Specialist Schnee, you're dismissed."
"Sir," Winter clicked her tongue, eyes narrow, and then left curtly.
The door closed behind us with a soft click, and as we remained in the room, a calm silence settled over all of us. It was Ozpin who broke the silence first, "Was it wise?" he asked, looking at me.
I rolled my eyes. "Paranoia is how they get you," I answered with a shrug. "That being said, what action are you deeming unwise? Telling the story of how we ended up in this situation to both my team and team RWBY, alerting Headmaster Ironwood that there's not really a long-term plan involved with Salem, or just about pretty much doing my best to keep Haven standing?"
"All of it, barring the last," Ozpin acquiesced.
"I merely said the truth," I said with a sigh. "Knowing you didn't have a plan was kind-of required, because otherwise actions would be forestalled indefinitely in wait for 'your big plan', and even if they weren't, admitting you're at a loss is kind of a fundamental part in getting other people's opinions. I get it that you're pretty much the expert on 'Salem Fighting', but ever thought about getting new perspectives and thoughts into the matter?"
Ozpin sighed. "Perhaps I am guilty of arrogance on that front, and while some solutions are impractical, some are worthy of consideration."
"Now that I know there's not an actual plan, I can at least start preparing some suggestions," Ironwood mused.
"But can your team, and Team RWBY, be trusted with the information of the enemy we are facing?" Ozpin asked. "Far too often the brightest heroes have fallen prey to Salem's treachery. I have seen it happen, and Leonardo is just the last example of a long string of people whose bravery took a turn for cowardice once they discovered just whom they were facing off against."
"That's because they knew of the enemy and were told the enemy's strengths, but not the weaknesses," I answered. "I'm working on theories for the most part when it concerns Salem, but there has to be a reason why she's afraid of the Kingdoms uniting, or why she doesn't take a personal hand in destroying the kingdoms, no?"
Ozpin gave a quiet nod. "Regardless of how powerful she is, both due to her immortality and to her magic, this does not mean she cannot be fought off. She still feels pain, her Aura can fail her, she can be temporarily incapacitated, and while she is capable of incredible feats of magic-that magical power is limited. It is a deep well, but one that eventually will wither away to nothing the more it is used." He stared at me. "I gave what magic I had to the Maidens, and allowed its passing, for in doing so it would never wither. They are a powerful weapon, but one that can all so easily be turned against us should Salem manage to convince them, or...should she find underlings willing to take their powers."
"Which she did, Cinder Fall being exactly that," I said, "The other half of the Maiden's power-was Miss Nikos chosen in the end?"
"She accepted the offer," Ozpin acquiesced. "She has taken well to it-but," he hesitated, "We have witnesses reporting the presence of Salem's agents in Vale once more. She may have been thwarted once, but this does not mean her desire to acquire the Relics have ceased."
I gave a quiet nod. "The Relic of Choice, isn't it?" I mused. "I never got around to ask what it can do."
"And I do pray you will never find out," Ozpin said.
"If it's so powerful," Ironwood said, speaking for the first time since Ozpin and I began talking like holier-than-thou elder beings of unparalleled and uncountable age, "We could try to use it."
"It will not work on Salem," Ozpin said. "The Relics themselves are incredibly powerful, but they will not function against either Salem or myself."
"If she does manage to get her hands on the Relic, knowing what it might do would help us attempt to prevent the worst from its usage," Ironwood retorted, "You've demonstrated that you're not infallible-and we need contingencies in place, Ozpin."
Ozpin sighed. "Out of all the Relics, the Relic of Choice is the most dangerous, and the most horrifying," he whispered. "Thrice every century, it will force an individual to obey unquestionably an order given by its wearer. It is currently safe, its last use having been eighty years ago-"
"The Great War," Ironwood muttered, "The fall of the Kingdoms and-"
"Convincing three differing monarchs to lay down their weapons, and accept their substitution with a more...difficult to control institution," Ozpin acquiesced. "However, in Salem's hands it would still present a considerable threat. If she were to acquire control of powerful individuals, convert them to their cause by taking away their wills-then she could easily turn friends into foes, and in twenty years of time, use it to acquire control of the most influential, and powerful, people of Remnant."
"Three monarchs, not four?" Ironwood asked, only to then catch himself. "Of course, the King of Vale-"
"I do not get to decide whom I will become when my life ebbs away," Ozpin acquiesced, "But that was perhaps destiny, or maybe good luck, for I was in the perfect position to do what needed to be done. The amount of lives lost on that day alone...but we are not here to reminisce the past. We are here to discuss the situation with the current Maidens-it is unlikely that Miss Xiao-Long would be safer in Vale, just as Miss Nikos wouldn't be safer in another Kingdom. Moving them both to a third Kingdom would needlessly increase the attentions of Salem in those kingdoms-thus, I was about to propose moving them both, and their teams, to a secluded location where they could train and come into the full extent of their powers."
"Atlas is safe," Ironwood acquiesced. "We've put into place new security measures, and our kingdom's robotic forces have been enhanced. Even then, there are a lot of small villages that can be of use in hiding the Maidens-"
"If you need a quiet spot to train, why not Patch?" Qrow suggested, "It's a small island off the main city of Vale, pretty much nobody cares about it, and I can guarantee you nobody's even heard of it past the city of Vale itself."
"But Miss Nikos is famous even there, I presume," I mused. "All it takes is one fan taking a picture of the fabled Miss Nikos-" I turned thoughtful. "And then people would wonder why she's in such a rural place, training, rather than doing missions for..." I rubbed my chin, "You can hide a needle in a haystack, but all that it takes is a metal detector to find it. If you really want to hide a needle, you need to hide it in a seamstress' shop, amidst other needles just like them."
"Are you going somewhere?" Qrow suggested.
"I propose a trade," I said nonchalantly. "Give us your Maiden, we'll give you ours. Miss Xiao-Long has family on Patch. Nobody's going to question her being there for an extended period of time, not if her father gets a really bad case of stomach-ache or something equally humiliating-"
"I like the way he thinks!" Qrow laughed at that, "I approve only if I get to ."
"And we take Pyrrha Nikos and her team. She's got family up north in Argus, and while she may be famous, we can chalk it up to her just going to visit her family...then we secretly spirit her away somewhere in Mistral to train, so the trail remains cold in Argus, where there is both Atlas military and Mistral's huntsmen academies who can be extra careful for wanted criminals...especially if tipped off about them," as I said that, I glanced from Ironwood to Opzin, and both seemed thoughtful enough, giving it the due consideration.
"We'll need security for them both," Ironwood acquiesced.
"I'd suggest my team, but we're barely holding down and the first years missions are coming," I mused, "Though I was about to suggest a kind of joint effort, to get Haven back on track. If you could provide us with a couple more teaching aides, it would free up my team to escort Nikos' own-"
"I have Specialists that can do that-" Ironwood said.
"The Specialists are loyal to Atlas, and not the people of Remnant as a whole, James," Ozpin acquiesced. "Far too easily has Nationalistic propaganda been used to subvert individuals in doing what they believed was best for their countries, only to end up doing what was best for Salem."
"Also, if my team doesn't go on a proper long-term mission anytime soon, you'll either end up with most of Mistral burning, some kind of giant death-robot, and probably most of Mistral lacking Lien while being beaten black and blue," I helpfully added. "If push comes to shove, I can at least guarantee a quick escape for the Maiden. If you can spare specialists for protecting the Maiden, though, we could use a few more teachers here in Mistral. If you were to send a few from Vale and a couple from Vacuo, rather than appear like a remake of the Old War, it will be more akin to a true international aid from the other kingdoms."
"Then we'll agree to that for the time being," Ozpin acquiesced, and Ironwood nodded in turn. "I will contact Headmistress Gale, but she should be amenable to that," he glanced at me. "She will probably request a paper triplicate."
I chuckled, "Ah, of course, I'll get Qrow to-" I turned, and dimly realized Qrow had already left. Glynda's eyes were narrowed in distaste, but otherwise she remained silent. "I'll get myself to forge his signature," I said in the end, sighing.
"Then, that will be all, Wren," Ozpin acquiesced, "Unless there is something on your end?"
"I'd actually like to speak with the Relic of Knowledge," I mused. "I have a question or two I'd like to ask, but I felt it prudent to ask first."
Ozpin furrowed his brows, but then nodded. "Very well. Do not remove the Relic from the room however; if you do, the Grimm, and Salem, will feel its presence."
I smiled at that, "I'll refer what she'll tell me," I added. "Might work, might not, but I'll keep you updated."
Ozpin nodded, and the chat window closed a second later.
"You managed to acquire Ozpin's trust in a surprisingly quick turn of events," Ironwood said, sounding surprised, "I have attempted multiple times to convince him to use the Relics, and this is the first time he allowed something like this without kicking up a fuss." He sighed, "Perhaps this and apparently managing to worry my Specialist quite a bit are connected? The closest to insubordination Winter gets is whenever you are involved, Mister Schnee. Do you know that?"
I rolled my eyes, "You attempt to learn how to fly once, people keep worrying after you even decades later," I said with a grin. "But I'll probably have a word with Winter, though I reckon she'll be the one having words for me." I shuddered, briefly. "Quite a lot of words, I guess. Still, call me Wren. Mister Schnee was my father, and the less said about him, the better."
Ironwood winced, but nodded imperceptibly so.
"Then...I will be waiting your report," and as the line cut off, I sighed and turned to leave.
I took approximately five steps out of the headmaster's office when Winter's hand grabbed hold of my ear.
I was a grown-up man, and Winter was just a few years older than me. I allowed it, because clearly, Winter wasn't that terrifying, nossir, not at all. Her office in Haven was as pristine as mine.
She had a better light system, though, especially judging by the fully powered gigawatt lamp that shone into my face not two seconds later.
"All right, Wren, speak," Winter said flatly. "In what trouble did you end up that involves two Headmasters and that drunken man?"
"I-"
"Is Qrow blackmailing you into doing his job? I will skewer him if he thinks he can use any of my siblings to get away from his own responsibilities-"
"No, I-"
"You are such a bleeding heart you probably believed him when he said he had a sick daughter to take care of-"
"Winter-"
"But those area all lies, Wren! There is absolutely no need to take on the dangers associated with whatever Qrow is doing that clearly has the approval of General Ironwood and from which I am however barred out," she added on, "Then again, if it were something incredibly dangerous, the General would probably appoint me rather than you-or perhaps this is Ozpin's-"
"Winter?"
"Headmaster of Vale or not, he does not get the authority to order a student from Atlas Academy around! Especially not when it comes to taking work off that insufferable-"
I dimly realized Winter was not going to let me speak until she was done with her rant.
I smiled at the realization of just how much she cared, and then basked in the feeling of her quite oppressive worrying by patiently waiting for my turn in the monologue-conversation.
I waited quite a bit...and a bit...and a bit more...
Winter, just how much venom do you have against Qrow Branwen!?
The world would keep on turning whether we wished for it or not. Days and nights would move, and hours would relentlessly come to pass as the clocks marked the inevitable changing of the seasons. It was strange how a functional huntsman academy, and some night terror-strikes, could change the public facade of Mistral.
The Huntsman academy of Heaven used to be a safe haven of lawfulness, near which the criminal families of Mistral didn't dare to tread upon. With Leonardo in charge, that had changed. With Qrow in charge in name only, and myself pretty much in charge in reality, the safety net of the huntsmen's presence extended outwards once more.
Thugs and petty criminals steered clear, not seeking a fight they couldn't possibly win, but waiting patiently for the perceived weakness to come to the front, a weakness I would not be allowing to show, even if there were multiple to my knowledge. We definitely needed more Lien, supporters of the Academy were few and in-between, and corruption did indeed work both ways.
If we refused to grant privilege to the wealthy, then the wealthy would pour their money elsewhere. If we instead allowed the wealthy to have the choice pick of the best huntsmen, we diminished the safety of the majority of the people. It was a balancing act, one which required finesse, great care, and an incredible amount of law-uplifting beatings.
At least Yang wasn't complaining going on Fundraising Events with Gorm. More often than not it was little different than having an actual protection racket, if with the knowledge that the people that were being beaten up were crime syndicate affiliates and pretty much owners of drug plantations, and whatnot.
We weren't going to bring light to the darkness of Mistral's caves. We weren't going to become righteous crusaders of justice and law across the whole Kingdom. Thus, in order to ensure we didn't take a more proactive approach in meting out justice, we had to be paid to keep ourselves busy elsewhere.
Stare long into the abyss, and eventually the abyss will stare back.
"We need to think about the missions for the first years," Blake pointed out helpfully, even as I dutifully finished scribbling down the latest report on the combat classes, cross-referencing it with the other 'Teachers' involved. If we had the money to pay for actual, professional huntsmen to come and teach, then we'd be set. However the real money had yet to come in. We were a ship that was floating, but not going at full speed.
The crew was willing, but not experienced.
We could show the ropes, but we couldn't show the tricks of the trade. At least, not all of them.
"Will they be able to cope with them?" I asked back, "Are all teams functional and trained enough?"
Will some of them die? That was the question that remained in my mind, unspoken yet easy to discern. My office had piles of neatly arranged documents, shelves filled with methodical precision in alphabetical order, and clutter was non-existent on my desk.
"Some could use some extra lessons," Blake acquiesced, "But they're all pretty much restless."
I nodded back. "We'll need to make the rounds and check on the offered missions at the Huntsmen Terminal, Academy privilege and whatnot. We'll also need to have them shadowed. Should be one teacher huntsman per squad, but we don't really have actual teachers-it will have to be pairs," I added. "Also, I can't send my Tax Collectors for obvious reasons."
Blake's lips twitched imperceptibly. "Yang won't be happy about that. She's the most vocal about going into a fight to try her new powers."
I sighed, "Then it's even better if she doesn't. Did she understand when I said that her powers will lead to trouble? She's to train them, but-"
"I'm sure she heard you just fine," Blake acquiesced, "And then forgot promptly about it once she managed to get sparks to fly out of her fingers."
I chuckled at that, "Youngsters these days, they see something shiny or cool, they forget about the dangers around them," I said in a mock-elderly tone.
The door of my office opened up with a fumbling click, and as the figure of Qrow Branwen stumbled in, Blake's nose wrinkled at the smell of alcohol pouring out from his entire frame. "Hey you," Qrow said with a drunken, lopsided grin, "Oz wants to talk with us."
I blinked, "He's here?"
"Nah, got a big screen in the headmaster's office-he wants us both," he chuckled, and drained his flask. He then threw it away, and grabbed a second one from his belt.
"You trying to give yourself alcohol poisoning or something?" I asked, even as I stood up from my desk to follow him.
"I'm not trying," Qrow grumbled, "I'm succeeding."
I rolled my eyes and walked by Qrow's side, the random students watching us go cheerfully waving in my direction with words that ranged from Prof to Professor, with a bit of a "My Kittens' Father!" when it came to encountering Chez, while Qrow just got the cold shoulder, if not the outright slightly more insulting "Drunkmaster."
Something told me it pissed him off quite mightily, since he let go of the second hip flask, still full, to grab a third one somewhere on his body. "You seriously have different flasks with different alcohols on your person?"
"Heh, sometimes the usual swill doesn't really cut it," he grumbled. "Once you get to my age, you realize that drinking really is the way to go. It's also the most painless."
"Not when your liver fails and you end up on dialysis," I pointed out, "Or you need someone to give you a piece of their liver, and since you're pretty much a rampant alcoholic, they're never going to find a donor, so you'll just die slowly and painfully in a hospital bed."
Qrow bristled, "You're one fucking bundle of joy, aren't you?" he did put the flask back into his pocket.
"Eh," I shrugged, "I am a bundle of joy. I'd also be kind of sad to see you go that way. There's a lot you can live for," I hummed. "How are your students doing anyway?"
"Bah, they're fine sports," Qrow grumbled. "Some had some problems at home, but I took care of those myself. Dam fish-bastard thinks he can pull one over me, he's got something coming," he snickered. "Probably would have suckered you in, but not me!" he sounded quite proud of himself, whatever it was he had done.
I merely hummed, nonchalantly opening the door to the headmaster's office and finding Winter already in there, arms crossed over her chest and actually glaring quite venomously, for a certain definition of it, in the direction of the large screen which was actually split in half. On one side was Headmaster Ozpin, Glynda Goodwitch by his side and on the other was Headmaster Ironwood.
"Specialist Schnee, once more, it is a need to know basis," Ironwood said curtly.
"I understand that, General, but I still fail to see the reason why you summoned my younger brother-" she began, only to stop once she realized we had come into the room.
"Hey Winter," I said with a smile. "They called you too?"
"No, we did not," Headmaster Ozpin said with a dreadful sigh. "Miss Schnee was just finishing delivering her report on the situation in Mistral, one not...adulterated by the current Headmaster," his eyes looked at Qrow, who in turn just shrugged back.
"I do say we could leave Specialist Schnee in charge," Ironwood pointed out. "Some Atlesian discipline would do the students good."
"And would be a reminder of the past war's alliances," Ozpin acquiesced right back, "But we have more pressing matters to discuss," he added, "As such, we should postpone this argument to another day."
"Very well," Ironwood answered. "Specialist Schnee, you're dismissed."
"Sir," Winter clicked her tongue, eyes narrow, and then left curtly.
The door closed behind us with a soft click, and as we remained in the room, a calm silence settled over all of us. It was Ozpin who broke the silence first, "Was it wise?" he asked, looking at me.
I rolled my eyes. "Paranoia is how they get you," I answered with a shrug. "That being said, what action are you deeming unwise? Telling the story of how we ended up in this situation to both my team and team RWBY, alerting Headmaster Ironwood that there's not really a long-term plan involved with Salem, or just about pretty much doing my best to keep Haven standing?"
"All of it, barring the last," Ozpin acquiesced.
"I merely said the truth," I said with a sigh. "Knowing you didn't have a plan was kind-of required, because otherwise actions would be forestalled indefinitely in wait for 'your big plan', and even if they weren't, admitting you're at a loss is kind of a fundamental part in getting other people's opinions. I get it that you're pretty much the expert on 'Salem Fighting', but ever thought about getting new perspectives and thoughts into the matter?"
Ozpin sighed. "Perhaps I am guilty of arrogance on that front, and while some solutions are impractical, some are worthy of consideration."
"Now that I know there's not an actual plan, I can at least start preparing some suggestions," Ironwood mused.
"But can your team, and Team RWBY, be trusted with the information of the enemy we are facing?" Ozpin asked. "Far too often the brightest heroes have fallen prey to Salem's treachery. I have seen it happen, and Leonardo is just the last example of a long string of people whose bravery took a turn for cowardice once they discovered just whom they were facing off against."
"That's because they knew of the enemy and were told the enemy's strengths, but not the weaknesses," I answered. "I'm working on theories for the most part when it concerns Salem, but there has to be a reason why she's afraid of the Kingdoms uniting, or why she doesn't take a personal hand in destroying the kingdoms, no?"
Ozpin gave a quiet nod. "Regardless of how powerful she is, both due to her immortality and to her magic, this does not mean she cannot be fought off. She still feels pain, her Aura can fail her, she can be temporarily incapacitated, and while she is capable of incredible feats of magic-that magical power is limited. It is a deep well, but one that eventually will wither away to nothing the more it is used." He stared at me. "I gave what magic I had to the Maidens, and allowed its passing, for in doing so it would never wither. They are a powerful weapon, but one that can all so easily be turned against us should Salem manage to convince them, or...should she find underlings willing to take their powers."
"Which she did, Cinder Fall being exactly that," I said, "The other half of the Maiden's power-was Miss Nikos chosen in the end?"
"She accepted the offer," Ozpin acquiesced. "She has taken well to it-but," he hesitated, "We have witnesses reporting the presence of Salem's agents in Vale once more. She may have been thwarted once, but this does not mean her desire to acquire the Relics have ceased."
I gave a quiet nod. "The Relic of Choice, isn't it?" I mused. "I never got around to ask what it can do."
"And I do pray you will never find out," Ozpin said.
"If it's so powerful," Ironwood said, speaking for the first time since Ozpin and I began talking like holier-than-thou elder beings of unparalleled and uncountable age, "We could try to use it."
"It will not work on Salem," Ozpin said. "The Relics themselves are incredibly powerful, but they will not function against either Salem or myself."
"If she does manage to get her hands on the Relic, knowing what it might do would help us attempt to prevent the worst from its usage," Ironwood retorted, "You've demonstrated that you're not infallible-and we need contingencies in place, Ozpin."
Ozpin sighed. "Out of all the Relics, the Relic of Choice is the most dangerous, and the most horrifying," he whispered. "Thrice every century, it will force an individual to obey unquestionably an order given by its wearer. It is currently safe, its last use having been eighty years ago-"
"The Great War," Ironwood muttered, "The fall of the Kingdoms and-"
"Convincing three differing monarchs to lay down their weapons, and accept their substitution with a more...difficult to control institution," Ozpin acquiesced. "However, in Salem's hands it would still present a considerable threat. If she were to acquire control of powerful individuals, convert them to their cause by taking away their wills-then she could easily turn friends into foes, and in twenty years of time, use it to acquire control of the most influential, and powerful, people of Remnant."
"Three monarchs, not four?" Ironwood asked, only to then catch himself. "Of course, the King of Vale-"
"I do not get to decide whom I will become when my life ebbs away," Ozpin acquiesced, "But that was perhaps destiny, or maybe good luck, for I was in the perfect position to do what needed to be done. The amount of lives lost on that day alone...but we are not here to reminisce the past. We are here to discuss the situation with the current Maidens-it is unlikely that Miss Xiao-Long would be safer in Vale, just as Miss Nikos wouldn't be safer in another Kingdom. Moving them both to a third Kingdom would needlessly increase the attentions of Salem in those kingdoms-thus, I was about to propose moving them both, and their teams, to a secluded location where they could train and come into the full extent of their powers."
"Atlas is safe," Ironwood acquiesced. "We've put into place new security measures, and our kingdom's robotic forces have been enhanced. Even then, there are a lot of small villages that can be of use in hiding the Maidens-"
"If you need a quiet spot to train, why not Patch?" Qrow suggested, "It's a small island off the main city of Vale, pretty much nobody cares about it, and I can guarantee you nobody's even heard of it past the city of Vale itself."
"But Miss Nikos is famous even there, I presume," I mused. "All it takes is one fan taking a picture of the fabled Miss Nikos-" I turned thoughtful. "And then people would wonder why she's in such a rural place, training, rather than doing missions for..." I rubbed my chin, "You can hide a needle in a haystack, but all that it takes is a metal detector to find it. If you really want to hide a needle, you need to hide it in a seamstress' shop, amidst other needles just like them."
"Are you going somewhere?" Qrow suggested.
"I propose a trade," I said nonchalantly. "Give us your Maiden, we'll give you ours. Miss Xiao-Long has family on Patch. Nobody's going to question her being there for an extended period of time, not if her father gets a really bad case of stomach-ache or something equally humiliating-"
"I like the way he thinks!" Qrow laughed at that, "I approve only if I get to ."
"And we take Pyrrha Nikos and her team. She's got family up north in Argus, and while she may be famous, we can chalk it up to her just going to visit her family...then we secretly spirit her away somewhere in Mistral to train, so the trail remains cold in Argus, where there is both Atlas military and Mistral's huntsmen academies who can be extra careful for wanted criminals...especially if tipped off about them," as I said that, I glanced from Ironwood to Opzin, and both seemed thoughtful enough, giving it the due consideration.
"We'll need security for them both," Ironwood acquiesced.
"I'd suggest my team, but we're barely holding down and the first years missions are coming," I mused, "Though I was about to suggest a kind of joint effort, to get Haven back on track. If you could provide us with a couple more teaching aides, it would free up my team to escort Nikos' own-"
"I have Specialists that can do that-" Ironwood said.
"The Specialists are loyal to Atlas, and not the people of Remnant as a whole, James," Ozpin acquiesced. "Far too easily has Nationalistic propaganda been used to subvert individuals in doing what they believed was best for their countries, only to end up doing what was best for Salem."
"Also, if my team doesn't go on a proper long-term mission anytime soon, you'll either end up with most of Mistral burning, some kind of giant death-robot, and probably most of Mistral lacking Lien while being beaten black and blue," I helpfully added. "If push comes to shove, I can at least guarantee a quick escape for the Maiden. If you can spare specialists for protecting the Maiden, though, we could use a few more teachers here in Mistral. If you were to send a few from Vale and a couple from Vacuo, rather than appear like a remake of the Old War, it will be more akin to a true international aid from the other kingdoms."
"Then we'll agree to that for the time being," Ozpin acquiesced, and Ironwood nodded in turn. "I will contact Headmistress Gale, but she should be amenable to that," he glanced at me. "She will probably request a paper triplicate."
I chuckled, "Ah, of course, I'll get Qrow to-" I turned, and dimly realized Qrow had already left. Glynda's eyes were narrowed in distaste, but otherwise she remained silent. "I'll get myself to forge his signature," I said in the end, sighing.
"Then, that will be all, Wren," Ozpin acquiesced, "Unless there is something on your end?"
"I'd actually like to speak with the Relic of Knowledge," I mused. "I have a question or two I'd like to ask, but I felt it prudent to ask first."
Ozpin furrowed his brows, but then nodded. "Very well. Do not remove the Relic from the room however; if you do, the Grimm, and Salem, will feel its presence."
I smiled at that, "I'll refer what she'll tell me," I added. "Might work, might not, but I'll keep you updated."
Ozpin nodded, and the chat window closed a second later.
"You managed to acquire Ozpin's trust in a surprisingly quick turn of events," Ironwood said, sounding surprised, "I have attempted multiple times to convince him to use the Relics, and this is the first time he allowed something like this without kicking up a fuss." He sighed, "Perhaps this and apparently managing to worry my Specialist quite a bit are connected? The closest to insubordination Winter gets is whenever you are involved, Mister Schnee. Do you know that?"
I rolled my eyes, "You attempt to learn how to fly once, people keep worrying after you even decades later," I said with a grin. "But I'll probably have a word with Winter, though I reckon she'll be the one having words for me." I shuddered, briefly. "Quite a lot of words, I guess. Still, call me Wren. Mister Schnee was my father, and the less said about him, the better."
Ironwood winced, but nodded imperceptibly so.
"Then...I will be waiting your report," and as the line cut off, I sighed and turned to leave.
I took approximately five steps out of the headmaster's office when Winter's hand grabbed hold of my ear.
I was a grown-up man, and Winter was just a few years older than me. I allowed it, because clearly, Winter wasn't that terrifying, nossir, not at all. Her office in Haven was as pristine as mine.
She had a better light system, though, especially judging by the fully powered gigawatt lamp that shone into my face not two seconds later.
"All right, Wren, speak," Winter said flatly. "In what trouble did you end up that involves two Headmasters and that drunken man?"
"I-"
"Is Qrow blackmailing you into doing his job? I will skewer him if he thinks he can use any of my siblings to get away from his own responsibilities-"
"No, I-"
"You are such a bleeding heart you probably believed him when he said he had a sick daughter to take care of-"
"Winter-"
"But those area all lies, Wren! There is absolutely no need to take on the dangers associated with whatever Qrow is doing that clearly has the approval of General Ironwood and from which I am however barred out," she added on, "Then again, if it were something incredibly dangerous, the General would probably appoint me rather than you-or perhaps this is Ozpin's-"
"Winter?"
"Headmaster of Vale or not, he does not get the authority to order a student from Atlas Academy around! Especially not when it comes to taking work off that insufferable-"
I dimly realized Winter was not going to let me speak until she was done with her rant.
I smiled at the realization of just how much she cared, and then basked in the feeling of her quite oppressive worrying by patiently waiting for my turn in the monologue-conversation.
I waited quite a bit...and a bit...and a bit more...
Winter, just how much venom do you have against Qrow Branwen!?
Mockingly-Tricky
Ketchup Enthusiast
- Location
- Happy Funtime Candyland
I ship it.
"Winter... would you please just fuck him already? Just do me two favors and 1. don't delude yourself that you can change him- as well as 2. leave me out of your agressive flirting."
*angry sister noises*
"I'm just so sick of this agonistic mating bullshit. If you don't put a sock in it I'm telling Chez and Zhelty you two have put me off of romance forever."
*angry sister noises*
"I'm just so sick of this agonistic mating bullshit. If you don't put a sock in it I'm telling Chez and Zhelty you two have put me off of romance forever."
Fragnostic
Cheshire
- Location
- Neko City
You almost gave me depression within the first paragraph of the chapter, lol.
Blake didn't need to point out helpfully, her mere existence is helping.
The Greatest Sin Qrow Ever Did (Not Canon...or is it?)
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
Qrow Branwen was many things, and he admitted it freely too. He was a drunkard at best, and a raging alcoholic at worst. It was his liver, though, and he never drank in front of the kids he was supposed to teach. 'Supposed to' being the key word, since he always found some poor sucker to teach them in his place.
Yet, right about then, he was on a mission for Ozpin, which clearly meant he had to stop drinking the strong stuff, and just drink the mission-approved alcohol. The mission was fairly easy, just check on the situation in Atlas and see if old rust-bucket Jimmy had everything under control since he had recently made General and whatnot.
As he moved through the frozen streets of Atlas, he realized there were a few huntsmen wannabe in their funny kid-gear trailing about. It was always fun to watch the pipsqueaks that would one day become big and bad huntsmen go about believing they knew what was best, some of them were so serious, like a white-haired girl who was seemingly doing twice as much as everyone else.
She clearly had some greater purpose in mind, perhaps one valiant heroic charge against the forces of evil, or maybe one devastating final attack to face off the unrelenting tides of the Grimm? Whatever the reason, Qrow drank from his flask and quickly forgot about it.
Old Jimmy was as fun as he remembered him to be; even more so when he didn't take well to him showing up with a broken Atlas droid in hand.
It wasn't his fault they broke easy.
With a couple of words and a few more nagging orders which he was going to ignore utterly, he just began his job of observing people go about their business. Huntsmen, would-be huntsmen, teachers-every now and then, he'd catch a glimpse of the white-haired kid doing her hardest in something, and rather than feel impressed, he'd just sigh and shake his head.
He could always approve of a hard worker, but as the umpteenth day came by in which the girl clearly wasn't showing any signs of slowing down, he began to wonder if perhaps somebody put her up to it.
"That's the Schnee firstborn," James mused. "Her father expects the best out of her."
"Any asshole like him expects the best, I'd just do the worst to spite the fucker," Qrow mused. "Cold hearted bastard-something of an Atlas' characteristic, uh."
Rustbucket Jimmy huffed, and that was that.
Still, his Uncle-Like instincts had begun to gear up once more. How could they not? He was getting mad in Atlas trying to find out if there was someone spying for Salem or not, and it was pretty clear there wasn't anyone involved, unless one accounted for how skeevy Professor Vash' brother, Professor Knives, was. A bit too bloodthirsty, perhaps he was involved somewhat. He'd keep an eye out on that guy.
But first, he had to annoy a Schnee.
"Hey you brat," he said with a huff, "You know the way to Rustbucket's office?"
"I beg your pardon?" Winter Schnee was a polite little thing, standing tall at seventeen years of age, and wearing a form-fitting dark and light blue outfit. The training Android she was sparring with had stopped fighting her at her command, and stood back.
"Rustbucket Jimmy," Qrow said with an amused expression, "you know, tall guy, half robotic-bloke's got an ego the size of a mountain-"
"You are referring to Headmaster James Ironwood," Winter Schnee answered back. "You are being incredibly crass about it too," she wrinkled her nose, "I do not know what business you have with the headmaster, but you can rest assured he can be found in his office on the last floor of the academy. If you have an appointment, vile as you are, I am sure he will see you."
"Nice, who taught you to speak like an answering machine? Are you going to say 'Beep' at the end of your sentences too?"
Winter blinked. "You are a sad huntsman," she said in the end, "Now apologies, but I must resume my training."
Qrow blinked at that. Perhaps it was a part of his heritage as an ex-bandit, or maybe it was because becoming a magical Crow gave him some...impulses, but one of those impulses was that to mess with people. Crows liked doing that. So, he just stood there and waited for his Semblance to do its magic.
The training android fizzled after a while, swinging in a way that was outside of its parameters, and at the same time the kid slipped on the floor and ended up falling backwards, her Scroll falling out of her pocket and landing neatly in front of his feet.
"Man, Rustbucket must really be scrapping the bottom of the barrel if this is the best he can get in his academy," Qrow chuckled, bending down to grab the Scroll in question. His intention had merely been to hand it back, he felt quite satisfied with how things had turned out, and his Crow-like soul was content, and happy.
That was when the Scroll in his hands fizzled and the screen cracked, the entire thing just blowing up in his hands in the most unfortunate of events.
The girl known as Winter Schnee stared at the broken Scroll, which fell to bits on the ground.
Then she looked up at him.
"My baby brother's pictures were on that phone," she said, her voice eerily calm. "They were-they were the only ones I had!"
Qrow didn't understand what the problem was.
The knee that came for his face, that he understood was a problem which needed ducking.
"Do. You. Have. ANY. IDEA. HOW MUCH-" The swords came next, and those too he avoided.
Leave it to his Semblance to make things incredibly horrible for him.
...
Years later, Qrow Branwen would meet one Wren Schnee.
Months after that, Winter Schnee would come and grab hold of Qrow by the neck.
"If you corrupt him, I will destroy you and everything and everyone you cherish and love!"
Sheesh, talk about being an overprotective sister. Was there some deep, unsettled issue or something?
- Location
- The Void
This... this is goddamn beautiful.
Ultra Sonic 007
Trying to keep things simple~
- Location
- Colorado
If it wasn't canon before...
...it is now.
...it is now.
In the sidestory bar.
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
I am but a humble slave to my fickle muse. Where it goes, I know not, for I enjoy the glorious ride of madness. One of the main reasons all of my stories tend to lag towards the end is that I am kind-of like a train-driver, only I build the railway towards some kind of 'promised ending' of sorts, but I do not know the road towards it.
This makes it quite interesting for me to write, which is why I keep on writing. If I can envision an ending to a story, that's normally when my muse goes away and I end up having to drag through the last chapters, because then to me it's no longer 'Writing' but merely 'Re-Writing what I already saw happening'.
...
Imagination, why must you be such a boon and yet such a curse at the same time...