Author's note: Another one to the backlog another one here, and yes I was Listening to the legendary video "Rock Lee vs Gaara" with poorly compressed power metal while writing this one.
"You know, Ren, is Pyrrha angry?" I asked, my eyes fixed on the spectacle before us. Pyrrha was absolutely dismantling Team CRDL in the sparring ring, her movements precise and unrelenting.
Ren, standing beside me with his usual calm demeanor, glanced at the carnage and then back at me. "More than usual, you mean?" he replied, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah," I said, gesturing toward the ring where Pyrrha had just sent one of CRDL's members skidding across the floor with a perfectly timed shield bash. "I mean this feels... personal."
Ren hummed thoughtfully, his arms crossed. "It's possible," he admitted. "She's been a little tense lately. Though I'm not sure what's causing it."
As if on cue, Pyrrha executed a flawless disarming maneuver, sending her opponent's weapon clattering to the ground before pinning them with her spear. She didn't gloat or even smile; she just moved on to the next member of Team CRDL with an almost mechanical determination.
"Yeah," I said again, wincing as another poor soul was sent flying. "Definitely tense."
Ren didn't respond, but his slight nod told me he agreed. We both watched in silence as Pyrrha continued her onslaught, the sparring ring practically radiating with her intensity. Whatever was bothering her, I decided, it was probably best not to ask.
Pyrrha's movements were precise and relentless as she swept Dove Bronzewing's legs out from under him with her spear. He hit the ground face-first with a loud thud, and before he could even think of recovering, she shifted Milo into its rifle form. A rapid series of shots struck true, hammering his aura until it dipped into the red. Professor Goodwitch calls of his elimination barely registered as she turned her attention to Cardin.
Cardin, seething with rage, charged her with his mace glowing from the Dust crystals embedded within. Flames danced along its head as he swung with all his might, aiming to overwhelm her with sheer force.
Pyrrha, however, was the picture of calm. With a graceful twirl of Milo, she hooked the spear around the haft of the mace, using her impeccable technique to redirect the attack. In a stunning reversal, she twisted the weapon and forced Cardin's swing back toward him. The Dust-infused mace detonated on impact, a fiery explosion sending Cardin hurtling out of the arena.
I winced as his trajectory carried him straight into the bleachers, where he landed with a resounding splat that made everyone watching flinch.
"Yikes," I muttered under my breath, unable to look away from the aftermath. "That's gonna leave a mark."
Ren, standing beside me, offered a small hum of agreement, his usual composure slightly strained as he watched Pyrrha calmly reset her stance, ready for the next unfortunate opponent.
Sky Lark was the last one standing, and it was painfully clear he was out of his depth. The poor guy was trembling, his grip on his halberd shaky as he tried to muster some semblance of courage. Before he could even open his mouth to forfeit, Pyrrha's shield came flying at him like a missile. The impact disarmed him with a clang, sending his halberd skittering across the arena.
The next moments unfolded in a blur. Pyrrha dashed forward, her movements fluid and precise. In a single, almost effortless twirl, she got behind him, her arms locking around his in a tight hold. Sky barely had time to register what was happening before Pyrrha leaped high into the air, dragging him along with her.
They soared to an almost ridiculous height, and at the apex of her jump, Pyrrha shifted their positions. Sky was now facing down, and she began spinning rapidly, creating a whirlwind of motion as they descended.
The crowd gasped collectively as they spiraled downward, the force of her spin creating a vortex of air around them. When they hit the ground, the impact was deafening. A cloud of dust and debris shot up, obscuring the aftermath for a moment. When it cleared, Sky's aura was completely depleted, and he lay sprawled on the ground, groaning in defeat.
Pyrrha, on the other hand, stood gracefully, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face as if she hadn't just performed one of the most brutal takedowns I'd ever seen.
I blinked, dumbfounded. "She's been… really sweet these past few weeks," I muttered, half to myself.
Ren nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. "Sweet," he repeated, though his tone suggested he might've chosen a different word…
"And that's the match," Professor Goodwitch declared, her voice sharp and authoritative as she strode into the arena. Pyrrha stepped out of her combat stance, a satisfied but composed look on her face, while Team CRDL collectively groaned in defeat, sprawled across the floor like discarded toys.
Our team gave a quick round of claps, more out of habit than anything else. Pyrrha turned toward us, her gaze locking on as she smiled warmly. It was the kind of smile that made you forget she'd just suplexed someone into next week.
"Alright," Professor Goodwitch continued, scanning the crowd with a critical eye. "I know that was a tough act to follow, but we have time for one more sparring match. Any volunteers?"
The room collectively shifted in discomfort. No one seemed eager to step into the arena after what Pyrrha had just done.
"Miss Belladonna?" Goodwitch's voice cut through the silence, her eyes landing on Blake. "You've been rather... docile these past few classes."
Blake froze mid-turn of a page, hurriedly snapping her book shut. Her expression was unreadable, though the tension in her shoulders spoke volumes.
I cringed inwardly at Goodwitch's choice of words. Docile? That sounded... off.
With a resigned sigh, Blake stood and made her way down to the arena. She moved with her usual grace, but the bags under her eyes were hard to miss, even under what I assumed was an attempt to mask them with makeup.
Or maybe it was just my eyes being "too good" again.
The fight went horribly for Blake.
Her opponent, Mercury, had volunteered at the last minute with a cocky grin, and it was clear from the start that he was more than she'd bargained for. He was good—too good. Every move Blake made was countered with almost surgical precision.
When she lunged at him with her blade, he sidestepped and retaliated with a kick that sent her skidding across the floor. His shotgun boots roared to life, hammering her with explosive blasts that rattled the arena. It was like facing the demented cousin of Ember Celica, and Blake was struggling to find her footing, Pun intended.
For a moment, it seemed like she'd found a way to turn the tide. She began using her shadow clones, especially the ones infused with lightning dust, which forced Mercury to stay on the defensive. The sparks and sudden bursts of energy threw him off for a few exchanges, but he adapted quickly. Too quickly.
When Blake attempted a feint, Mercury predicted it, sweeping her legs out from under her and following up with a brutal kick that sent her aura gauge plummeting. The crowd winced collectively as the clash continued, but it was clear who was in control.
Finally, when Blake's aura gauge dropped to fifteen percent, Professor Goodwitch stepped in.
"That's enough," she announced, her voice firm and leaving no room for argument.
Blake staggered back, panting heavily, her swords lowering as she accepted the call. Mercury smirked, brushing imaginary dust off his jacket like he hadn't just been in a fight.
Blake's shoulders slumped as she sheathed her weapon, her exhaustion evident even from the stands. She didn't make eye contact with anyone as she walked off the arena floor, her face a mask of quiet frustration.
The class bell rang, its chime signaling the end of the session. Professor Goodwitch's voice rang out above the sound of students gathering their belongings.
"That's all for today. Remember, the dance is this weekend, but you all have your first mission on Monday," she declared, her tone crisp and commanding as always.
The room buzzed with excitement, but my team's reaction was… a bit split.
"Dance!" Pyrrha exclaimed but quickly restrained herself, practically glowing at the mention of it. She was already muttering to herself about dresses and color schemes, her cheeks flushed with excitement.
"Mission! Woohoo!" Nora and I cheered in unison, high-fiving each other like we'd just won the lottery. For me, the idea of our first paid mission—no matter how small the paycheck—was thrilling. It felt like a step closer to becoming a real Huntsman. Nora, naturally, was just as hyped, bouncing on her heels and making exaggerated karate noises while throwing mock punches into the air.
Ren, ever the calm and collected one, nodded along to all of it, a small smile on his face as he shouldered the bag of holding.
"Dance, mission, dance, mission," Nora chanted, trying to combine the two ideas in a chaotic fashion.
"You sure all of this is necessary?" I asked, my tone bordering on a groan as I tried—unsuccessfully—to shove the seemingly endless pile of clothes, shoes, and accessories into our bag of holding.
Pyrrha, standing beside me with a serene smile, nodded firmly. "Absolutely. It's important to make a good impression, Jaune. You always say that our team should stick together."
The confidence in her voice was bolstered by the fact that she'd used her credit card—flush with years of winnings from her gladiatorial days—to bankroll this little expedition. While I couldn't fault her generosity, the sheer volume of her purchases was staggering.
"Oh is this how the great Pyrrha Nikos asks her Partner on a date?" I asked jokingly, she blushes and stutters hard at that, point to me.
Nora was no better. She'd somehow convinced Pyrrha to add a slew of her own "essentials" to the haul, most of which were bright, loud, and undeniably Nora. Now I was stuck playing Tetris with their combined shopping spree, trying to make it all fit into the bag.
At least we'd managed to keep Pyrrha from getting involved in organizing the dance itself. That task had fallen to Team CFVY, who apparently still remembered my heroic act of helping their team leader fix her injured foot after a particularly rough training session. But hey, if it kept Pyrrha from taking over the dance planning committee, I wasn't complaining.
CFVY had, wisely or unwisely, chosen Team RWBY—well, RWY—to help with the arrangements. Blake was still a question mark, though. She hadn't committed to attending, much to Sun's visible disappointment.
Meanwhile, we had been press-ganged into this shopping trip, thanks to the team collectively realizing that neither me or Ren had anything remotely resembling formal wear in our lockers.
"This is a dance, not a royal ball," I muttered under my breath, finally managing to squeeze the last of the items into the bag.
Nora leaned over my shoulder, grinning. "Oh, lighten up, fearless leader! It's not every day we get to dress up and show off. You'll look dashing, I promise!"
Pyrrha's cheeks turned slightly pink at that, and she quickly busied herself with adjusting her shopping bags.
"Besides," Nora added with a wink, "if you're going to be a knight in shining armor, you might as well look the part."
The shopping continued, and I silently thanked the heavens for the bag of holding. Without it, even our aura-enhanced strength might've buckled under the sheer volume of stuff we were hauling back to Beacon. And poor Ren had it the worst—Nora had taken it upon herself to make him try on every silly outfit she could find, from bright floral shirts to a neon green suit that glowed in the store's lighting.
Ren endured it all with a patience that bordered on saintly.
But then, from the corner of my eye, I spotted something that made me pause mid-step.
"Wait a second," I muttered, squinting at a rooftop a little way down the street. There, basking lazily in the sun, was none other than Tigger. The flying cat had a pigeon dangling from his mouth, and, to my utter disbelief, an entire harem of felines sprawled around him, napping in the warm sunlight.
"Tigger?" I pointed out, gesturing toward the rooftop.
Nora's eyes lit up as she followed my gaze. "Ahh, my little boy is a Casanova!" she cooed, clasping her hands together like a proud parent.
"Your little boy?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yep!" Nora declared with a grin. "He sleeps in my bed, so he's mine."
Her logic was, unfortunately, flawless. I had no counterargument.
Pyrrha's eyes sparkled with excitement as she pointed to a suit on one of the racks. "Ahhh, Jaune, you have to try that one!" she said, her voice practically dripping with enthusiasm.
I followed her gaze to the suit in question and felt my stomach drop. It was... a lot. A simple black suit with streaks of gold rising through the fabric like the roots of a tree, twisting and curling in a pattern that was undeniably intricate. And undeniably gaudy.
It looked like something someone might wear to a high-profile wedding—or possibly a fashion show where the theme was over-the-top opulence. If anyone from back on Earth ever caught me wearing something like this, I'd probably have to retreat into a cave of shame and never come out.
But then I looked at Pyrrha. She was giving me those big, imploring puppy eyes, the kind that made it clear this wasn't just a suggestion—it was a test of my loyalty as her partner. And, well, she was paying for everything.
I sighed in defeat. "Alright, I'll try it on," I said, grabbing the suit off the rack.
Of course, trying it on sealed my fate.
The moment I stepped out of the dressing room, Pyrrha clapped her hands together in delight. "It's perfect!" she exclaimed, her smile so radiant it almost made me forget how ridiculous I felt.
I ran a hand through my hair, glancing at my reflection in the mirror. "You really think so?"
She nodded eagerly. "Absolutely. It'll complement my dress perfectly."
Ah. So that was the real reason. I should've known.
As we made our way back to the dorm, I couldn't help but feel the weight of the day. Pyrrha's fingers gently traced circles in my hair, a soothing gesture that helped calm me after the whirlwind of shopping and the chaos of the day. Meanwhile, I was busy "feeding the animals" out of the bullhead, trying to heal my stomach issues but even my healing spells had their limits. Still, I tried my best.
But then something caught my attention. I glanced down the corridor and saw Yang, grinning like a mischievous cat, holding a laser pointer. She was using it to lure Blake down the hall like some sort of... well, cat. I blinked in disbelief. Was this really happening?
Damn, I thought to myself. I knew Beacon had its problems, but I didn't realize how deep some of them ran... It must be hard being a Faunus here.
We continued walking, our pace a little slower now, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I couldn't help but feel proud of my team.
I sighed, glancing over at Pyrrha, then Nora, and Ren. My team. The best team. We didn't have to worry about those kinds of problems, sure we had this weird romance angle happening, but nothing like that, and besides, why was Blake going along with it?
As we finally reached our dorm, I couldn't help but notice little Tigger perched smugly on Nora's bed, looking like the king of the world. His tail flicked lazily, and his eyes gleamed with self-satisfaction. It didn't take a genius to figure out why—he'd probably spent the day charming every cat in Vale, maybe even snagging another pigeon or two. That cat had more confidence than anyone I'd ever met.
Nora immediately rushed over to scoop him up, cooing about her "precious little Casanova," while Tigger purred like a motorboat, clearly reveling in the attention. Pyrrha smiled softly, scratching behind his ears, while Ren just gave a quiet nod of acknowledgment, as if Tigger's antics were an everyday occurrence.
Still, we had no time to waste. The dance was tomorrow, and after that, our first real team mission awaited. The thought filled me with a mix of excitement and nerves. The dance was one thing—mostly fun, a chance to relax and enjoy ourselves. But the mission? That was the real deal. Our first paid job as a team, a chance to prove ourselves as Huntsmen and Huntresses.
I glanced at my team. Pyrrha was already muttering something about last-minute preparations, probably planning to double-check her dress for the dance. Nora was busy holding Tigger up like he was Simba from The Lion King, and Ren... well, Ren just stood there, calm and composed as always.
Let's hope everything goes ok.
I leaned against the wall near the entrance, watching the Beacon dance unfold with mild disappointment. It wasn't bad, exactly—just painfully formal. The kind of event that felt more like a historical reenactment of what my grandfather would have found "Totally rad" when he was young rather than a celebration full of collage aged teens. The music was all classical, the dancing stiff and polite, and the atmosphere lacked any of the energy or chaos you'd expect from a school full of huntsmen and huntresses in training.
But don't worry, Beacon. Team Juniper was here to save the day.
Across the room, my canteen floated discreetly above the massive punch bowl, courtesy of a little gravity sorcery. Drip, drip, drip went the Everclear, infusing the bland punch with the firepower it desperately needed. With a bowl that size, it would take some time to get the ratio just right, but I was nothing if not patient. Soon, this party would have the spark it was missing.
I stood by the front door, waiting for Pyrrha. She'd said she needed a few more minutes to finish getting ready, and I wasn't about to rush her. Knowing Pyrrha, whatever she was planning would be worth the wait. Ren and Nora were already on the dance floor, of course—Nora leading with her usual chaotic energy, and Ren moving with his signature calm.
That left me alone at the door. Well, not completely alone. Weiss stood a few feet away, her expression unusually subdued. She looked perfect, as always—her dress immaculate, her posture flawless—but there was a shadow in her eyes, a quiet sadness she couldn't quite hide.
I'd heard the rumors: her date, Neptune, had bailed on her. Seeing her now, it was obvious they were true. She wasn't angry, though—not the kind of fiery, righteous fury I'd expect from Weiss. No, she just looked… disappointed. Lonely, even.
I thought about saying something, but what could I say? Weiss wasn't the type to appreciate sympathy, and anything I said would probably just make things worse. Instead, I glanced back at the floating canteen and let my thoughts wander.
Still, as I glanced back at Weiss, I couldn't help but feel bad for her. She deserved better than this. Better than him.
My thoughts shifted as I turned my gaze back to the dance floor. Pyrrha would be here any minute now, and when she walked through that door, I had no doubt she'd steal the show.
"Enjoying yourself, Mr. Arc?"
The sudden voice startled me, almost making me lose my grip on the canteen. I barely managed to catch it with my semblance, floating it up to one of the ceiling support pillars before Professor Ozpin could notice what I was doing.
"Uh, yeah, sure. Expected better, but the night's still young. Besides, I'm waiting for my date," I replied, trying to sound casual as I adjusted my tie.
Ozpin nodded, his calm demeanor as unshakable as ever. "It's good that you're accompanied, Mr. Arc. The bonds we form during these years are often the ones we carry for the rest of our lives."
His tone carried that familiar wisdom, the kind that always seemed to weigh heavier than his words.
"And besides," he continued, his gaze shifting toward the entrance, "life has a way of testing those bonds. But it's moments like these that solidify them."
I followed his gaze to the door, where three people had just entered the ballroom: Emerald, Mercury… and my partner.
And wow.
Pyrrha Nikos was breathtaking.
She wore a flowing white dress with silver highlights, her hair tied into a braid adorned with delicate flowers. The subtle touch of makeup only enhanced her natural beauty, making her look less like a warrior and more like a goddess descending to grace the dance. The sight of her stole every coherent thought from my head.
"Go enjoy your night, Mr. Arc," Ozpin said, his voice pulling me back to reality. "And remember, tomorrow marks the beginning of your first real taste of the huntsman's life. So enjoy this while you can."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there as Pyrrha approached.
She smiled at me, radiant and warm, and for a moment, the rest of the room faded away.
"Hey," she said softly, her voice carrying just a hint of nervousness.
"Hey," I replied, barely able to form the word.
I offered her my arm, and as she took it, and to the dance floor we went.
The music shifted to a slower, enchanting melody as Pyrrha and I made our way to the dance floor. Her hand rested lightly on mine, and I placed my other hand gently on her waist. She smiled up at me, her cheeks faintly pink.
"I hope you don't mind," I said softly, "but I might cheat a little."
"Cheat?" she asked, tilting her head in curiosity.
"Just… trust me," I replied, closing my eyes for a moment.
Reaching deep into the wellspring of my magic, I let a subtle aura flow through both of us. It wasn't anything grand—just a touch of enhancement to our movements, a faint rhythm of grace and synchronization that made every step feel effortless.
As we began to dance, it was as though the world around us melted away. Each step, each spin, each sway felt perfectly timed to the music. My feet moved with a confidence I'd never had before, and Pyrrha, already so graceful, seemed to float like a leaf on the wind.
The crowd around us began to quiet. I could feel their eyes on us, their attention drawn like moths to a flame. The faint glow of magic shimmered in the air around us, subtle enough to go unnoticed but enough to cast a dreamlike quality over the scene.
Pyrrha's laughter rang out as I twirled her, her braid catching the light and sparkling like silver. She leaned closer as the music slowed, her voice barely above a whisper.
"This is amazing," she said, her emerald eyes locked on mine.
"You make it easy," I replied, and she blushed again, her smile growing wider.
As we moved, I caught a glimpse of the punch bowl out of the corner of my eye. Ruby and Weiss stood by it, their faces flushed as they drank from their cups. Ruby's expression was one of delighted surprise, while Weiss looked slightly scandalized but kept sipping anyway.
I winced internally. Maybe the everclear was a bit much. Hopefully, they wouldn't notice… for a while, at least.
The music reached its crescendo, and I lifted Pyrrha into the air, spinning her gently before setting her back down. The crowd erupted into applause as the song ended, and I felt a wave of warmth at the sight of Pyrrha's radiant smile.
"Thank you," she said, her voice full of emotion.
"For what?" I asked.
"For making tonight unforgettable."
I squeezed her hand, my heart pounding. "The night's not over yet."
She laughed, and we made our way off the dance floor. Pyrrha went to join Team RWBY, who were clustered together and chatting excitedly, while I slipped outside to catch my breath.
The cool night air was a welcome relief as I stepped onto the balcony. The stars sparkled above, and for a moment, I just let myself take it all in.
A soft chirping sound drew my attention, and I turned to see Tigger perched on the railing, his wings tucked neatly against his sides. His eyes gleamed with mischief, and his tail flicked lazily.
"Hey, buddy," I said, reaching into my pocket. "Got a little job for you."
I pulled out a small bag of catnip and held it up. Tigger's ears perked, and he let out a pleased trill.
"Neptune's room," I whispered conspiratorially. "You know what to do. You get this after."
He gave a satisfied chirp, snatched the bag from my hand, and took off into the night.
As Tigger disappeared into the night, off to carry out his mission, I straightened my jacket and took a deep breath. The cool night air had done its job, and I felt refreshed, ready to dive back into the festivities. After all, I had a date to sweep off her feet, and the night was still young.
Stepping back into the ballroom, the atmosphere hit me like a wave. The energy had shifted; the music was livelier, the chatter louder, and the laughter more frequent. My little addition to the punch seemed to be doing its job, though thankfully not too obviously.
I scanned the room and spotted Pyrrha still with Team RWBY. She was laughing at something Yang said, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed with happiness. She looked like she belonged in the middle of the ballroom, under the twinkling lights, rather than on a gladiatorial arena.
Time to remind her why this night was special.
I crossed the room, weaving through the crowd, and stopped just behind her. "Excuse me, ladies," I said, cutting into their conversation. "Mind if I steal her for a bit?"
Pyrrha turned to me, her smile softening into something warmer. "You're not stealing me," she said, taking my hand. "I'm already yours."
The words hit me like a freight train, but I recovered quickly, offering her my best smile. "Well, in that case, shall we?"
I led her back to the dance floor, where another slow song was starting. The lights dimmed slightly, casting a golden glow over the room.
As we danced, the world seemed to shrink again, leaving just the two of us. The crowd blurred into the background, their applause and laughter fading into white noise. It was just me, Pyrrha, and the music.
I tightened my hold on her hand and leaned in slightly. "You're incredible, you know that?"
She laughed softly. "You've mentioned it once or twice."
"Well, it's worth repeating," I said, spinning her gently.
She returned the spin with perfect grace, her dress fanning out like a silver cloud. When she came back to me, she leaned her head against my shoulder for a moment, and I felt my heart skip a beat.
"I'm glad it's you," she said quietly.
"Me too," I replied, my voice just as soft.
The applause faded into the background, a dull hum compared to the pounding of my heart. Pyrrha looked up at me, her emerald eyes glowing with a mix of joy and something deeper, something that made my pulse race.
My brain screamed at me to keep it together, to not ruin the moment, but my heart? My heart had other plans.
Her face was so close now, and all I could focus on were her lips. Soft, inviting, perfect. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but none of them were loud enough to drown out the magnetic pull between us.
She tilted her head ever so slightly, her breath warm against my skin. I didn't even realize her hand had moved to my cheek, gently brushing a stray strand of hair away. Her lips parted slightly, and my resolve crumbled.
"Let Jesus take the wheel," I thought, abandoning any semblance of control.
Our faces drew closer, the world shrinking again until it was just us. The noise, the lights, the crowd—they all disappeared.
And then, just as our lips were about to meet—
"JAUNE!"
The shout shattered the moment like a brick through glass. I flinched, pulling back as Nora's unmistakable voice boomed across the ballroom.
"Get over here! They're doing limbo, and Ren's winning!" she yelled, waving frantically from the other side of the room.
Pyrrha blinked, the spell between us broken but her cheeks flushed a deep red. I scratched the back of my neck, trying to play it cool, but my face felt like it was on fire.
"I, uh—" I stammered, but Pyrrha just smiled, her expression soft and understanding.
"It's okay," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "We'll have our moment."
I nodded, feeling a mix of relief and frustration. "Yeah. Our moment."
Taking her hand, I led her toward Nora and the chaos she was undoubtedly causing.
Tigger was very pleased with himself, basking in the moonlight atop one of Beacon's rooftops. His mission was complete, and he could rest easy knowing he had delivered justice on behalf of his master. This Neptune fellow must have committed some grievous sin against Master Jaune because Tigger had left no stone unturned—or rather, no corner unmarked.
Neptune's room was a disaster. Bowls of water overturned onto his bed, his vestments shredded and wetted with his bladder, scrolls scratched beyond repair, and his bedding thoroughly ripped apart. Tigger had even gone the extra mile by leaving a few dead field mice strategically hidden in the luggage, ensuring the smell would linger for weeks. He hadn't touched his reward yet—the small pouch of catnip sat safely in his nest, waiting to be shared with his many lovers. They would surely appreciate the gift, and he… well, he would appreciate their appreciation.
Tigger stretched lazily, his wings spreading wide as he gazed over the sleeping campus. His grandmother Tara had often told him stories about the bonds between masters and their familiars, but none of those tales could compare to his life with Master Jaune. Jaune was kind, clever, and knew how to treat a companion just right—not at all like that rascal Mr. Dakarios from Waterdeep, who had once tried to make Tigger fetch his slippers.
As he watched the ballroom from his perch, Tigger's sharp eyes caught sight of Mistress Nora chatting animatedly with Mistress Pyrrha. The latter soon hooked her arm around Master Jaune's, gently leading him toward their dorm. Tigger tilted his head, curious about their behavior, until he realized what was happening.
"Oh dear… oh dear," he thought, quickly averting his gaze. Clearly, the two were enjoying themselves a little too much. He didn't need to see any more to know they were… bonding. Let the lovers have their fun, he decided. After all, he wouldn't want anyone interrupting his sessions with the gentle pussycats of Vale. Many of them were expecting his young, after all—a perk of being the only flying feline in the area.
But something else caught his attention—a shadow darting across the rooftops of Beacon, heading toward Vale. Tigger narrowed his eyes. A rogue figure was making their way toward the massive wizard's tower in the center of town.
Curiosity piqued, Tigger decided to follow. The rogue moved swiftly, knocking out guards and slipping through the tower's defenses with practiced ease. He tried to warn them but it seems that they were all dullards, none able to speak Mriaer.
Tigger fluttered silently from rooftop to rooftop, watching as the figure reached the inner sanctum.
That's when Tigger had an idea. The big red levers scattered throughout the tower were clearly meant to activate its defenses. Risky, yes—but what a glorious death it would be! Surely the wizard would revive him and shower him with rewards for his bravery.
With a determined chirp, Tigger dove for the nearest lever, clamping his jaws around it and pulling with all his might.
Tigger opened one eye cautiously, then the other. Instead of the fiery wrath of arcane defenses or the sting of magical traps, he found himself drenched in a sudden torrent of water. The lever he'd pulled had activated some kind of magical sprinkler system, drenching the tower in sheets of water.
The rogue froze mid-step, clearly unprepared for the aquatic ambush. Slipping on the now-slick floor, they crashed unceremoniously into a wall, a loud clang echoing through the chamber.
Tigger fluttered to a nearby perch, shaking the water from his feathers indignantly. He had expected glory, perhaps a statue in his honor, not an impromptu bath. Still, the rogue was clearly out of commission, sputtering and soaked, their tools scattered around them.
The Guards outside rushed in, with his eyes he could see several metal flying things making a beeline to the tower.
The thief tried frantically to escape, the inner sanctum of the wizard saved by his intervention, it seems that the Rogue could also do some spells, heating a part of the wall, which quickly melted, with freedom in sight it jumped into the skyline.
Still, it wasn't all a loss, imagine all the stories he would tell his many lovers, how brave Tigger defended a wizard tower from a vile thief, yes he was already imagining, now however he needed to go back to the school, his head needs many scratches.
"Ughhh, Ren, they locked the door!" Nora groaned, her voice dripping with frustration as she tried to force the door open.
Ren, ever the calm one, glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. "It seems best not to interrupt them, Nora. Let them have their moment."
"Fine," she huffed, crossing her arms in defeat, though her irritation was still evident. She then mumbled under her breath, "If they ruin my things, I swear to the Brothers..."
Before Ren could offer any further words of wisdom, a soft meow interrupted them. They both turned to see Tigger, drenched and looking remarkably pleased with himself, hopping toward them with an air of contentment.
"Ahhh, Tigger! You had a nice night, huh?" Nora exclaimed, scooping him up into her arms. "Ewww, why are you wet, baby boy? Were you with your harlots ?" She paused, then gave him a dramatic pout. "Those strays aren't worthy of you, my precious. Yes, you are," she cooed, scratching behind his ears as he purred loudly, clearly enjoying the attention.
Ren gave a small, polite smile, though he couldn't help but notice how pleased Tigger looked with himself. He let out a quiet sigh, trying to avoid the obvious discomfort in the air. "It seems best that we see if we can bunker up with Team RWBY," Ren suggested, glancing back toward the dorm door. "Just to be safe, in case they forget to unlock it."
Nora sighed again, rolling her eyes, though she was still cradling Tigger like a prized possession. "I swear, if I find any stains on my bed..." She trailed off, shaking her head in mock exasperation, but there was a playful glint in her eyes as she looked down at the cat.
Ren gave a small nod, his gaze flicking back to the door. "Let's just make sure they don't forget, then."
As the two of them turned to head off toward Team RWBY's dorm, Tigger continued to purr happily in Nora's arms, Ren couldn't stop thinking that the cat really was living the high life.
CP Bank:1000 CP
Perks earned this chapter :none
Milestone reached this chapter:
A night to remember: Kiss the girl you fool: 200 CP
Off the rails: completely unshackle fate: 400cp
Paw Patrol: Have your pet foil a villain scheme: 400CP
