- Location
- Portugal
"AH DUN WAN IT" - Wren Pendragon
The Other Path [RWBY SI] [AHOIAC AU]
- Thread starter shadenight123
- Start date
"AH DUN WAN IT" - Wren Pendragon
- Location
- Elsewhere
"You Gormless idiot!"
Frick. Raven is totally going to be a problem. Also she is totally the bird from the top of Beacon.
DarthThrawn
Bloody Eldar
Fragnostic
Cheshire
- Location
- Neko City
A bird dragon... a feathered serpent...
QUETZALCOATL!!!
This instance of Shade is not Ouroboros, it's Quetzalcoatl!
Quetzalcoatl, the Aztec god of wind, air, and learning!
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LordOfPears12
Cat girl headpatter
- Location
- Land of pizza,pasta and lasagna.
Qrow headmaster of haven academy. Ozpin is really on low number of available confidants.
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Ganurath
Literal Enthusiast
- Location
- A Valid Location
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Thinking on it, it sort of fits, thematically?
Wizard of Oz: Headmaster Ozpin, in Vale.
Dorothy: Headmistress Gale, in Vacuo.
Scarecrow: Headmaster Branwen, in Mistral.
Tin Man: Headmaster Ironwood, in Atlas.
Lion: Ghira Belladonna, in Menagerie.
Wizard of Oz: Headmaster Ozpin, in Vale.
Dorothy: Headmistress Gale, in Vacuo.
Scarecrow: Headmaster Branwen, in Mistral.
Tin Man: Headmaster Ironwood, in Atlas.
Lion: Ghira Belladonna, in Menagerie.
- Location
- Some Apartment
Yes. Make someone with a passive bad luck as an ability in an admin position. Yes. That would be swell.
Also Wren... True King. Im kinda glad and surprised Wren still retains a lot of info about the show. Warrior King Santa Clause of Schnee Dust Companies has a nice ring to it. Dont go Palpy on Remnant now Shade.
Also to Wren and Qrow, if you have such bad luck as a part of daily life... Yet you live. Yer living in interesting times.
Fukoda.
Also Wren... True King. Im kinda glad and surprised Wren still retains a lot of info about the show. Warrior King Santa Clause of Schnee Dust Companies has a nice ring to it. Dont go Palpy on Remnant now Shade.
Also to Wren and Qrow, if you have such bad luck as a part of daily life... Yet you live. Yer living in interesting times.
Fukoda.
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Dragon of chaos
The Dragon who reads
- Location
- Minnesota, USA
All hail king wren the first.
Tabi
Expert Jissou Abuser
Vash totally did this on purpose, didn't he.
LordOfPears12
Cat girl headpatter
- Location
- Land of pizza,pasta and lasagna.
I have a small hunch that the artifact of creation is Ozpin's mug. Is Wren gonna ask the artifact's genie how to transform her into a cat girl and join the harem?
It would be hilarious.
It would be hilarious.
Fragnostic
Cheshire
- Location
- Neko City
Then there's no choice at all! Rather, there's only one choice!
At least make the choice between different coffee blends!
Mirvein
A Tea-Fueled Monstrosity.
- Location
- In the middle of nowhere.
Sorry, Oz drinks hot chocolate exclusively.
Fragnostic
Cheshire
- Location
- Neko City
The hypocrite, removing free choice from humanity like that!
No wonder Remnant is a deathworld!
Mirvein
A Tea-Fueled Monstrosity.
- Location
- In the middle of nowhere.
Have humans even had a freedom to choose in the first place?
AnonymousRabbit
Rabbit Faced
The freedom to decide which is best girl and worst girl in this FanFiction.
Mirvein
A Tea-Fueled Monstrosity.
- Location
- In the middle of nowhere.
Decisions?
Every girl in this fanfic is the best girl, duh.
Exsequens
I Ent Dead!
- Location
- Back in the Toaster.
Best? Chez. With Zhelty as a good second. If we are counting characters from RWBY, then Chez ties with Weiss and Zhelty with Winter from my perspective.
The alternate best girl? Female Gorm fron another dimension. Best brother in arms and wingman can make for best girl and wingwoman too. ~
Worst? I might vote Elsa for that one. It is one thing to betray those on your side for money, it is another to betray them to the enemies of humanity and the Faunus.
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Chapter Ninety-Eight
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
Chapter Ninety-Eight
Haven didn't look like a safe haven, or like heaven either. It was some kind of strange mix between a school campus with a large open space, and a mixture of classes you could step into by sliding doors around. It was also empty for the most part. The emptiness itself was a telling tale.
"The problem is, we don't have enough huntsmen," Qrow grumbled, taking a long sip from his flak. "We need more teachers, we need more huntsmen active on the field, we need more students-we need more bodies to send out," he sipped a bit more, "Those we have are trash. The bottom of the bottom and most of them can't even be trusted to stick their heads out of their asses," he groaned as he slammed a hand against the surface of his desk.
We stood in the old Headmaster office, which was now apparently Qrow's own. The vast amount of empty liquor bottles hanging around precariously was one new feature, just like the scythe marks on the ground and the walls nearby.
"Well, we're here to help," Vash answered. "How is the headmaster's position treating you? Everything you could have asked for?"
Qrow sighed, "I do get to assign the school budget, and kids should learn to drink alcohol anyway."
"Please tell me that's a joke and you did not actually mishandle the school budget of Mistral's huntsman Academy," Zhelty took that as the cue to speak, eliciting a startled gasp from Qrow.
"The garden gnome talks!" he said sarcastically, "and whoever dressed it up had shit tastes," he added next.
"You-" Zhelty grumbled, even as I amiably placed a hand on Zhelty's shoulder, pacifying her with my gesture.
"Zhelty, don't take offense. The man needs some victories in his life, he's already got a crippling depression fed by his alcoholism, and his very own abrasive nature is merely a shield to keep people away and prevent them from finding out just how screwed up he feels he is," as I said that, as gently as I could, I could see silence settle in the room. "What this poor man needs is a gentle reassurance that he is still quite an acceptable member of society, and needs to be gently coaxed out of his habit with friendly gestures of understanding and acceptance. We can begin by complimenting him-"
"Stop," Qrow said. "Just stop. The fuck-you're twenty times worst than anything else-I'll take the ice queen over you. Go back where you came from. I don't want you-"
I smiled at him, and nodded. "I understand you need a friend, Mister Branwen. If you want, I can be your friend. Would you like a hug?" I took a step forward, and Qrow took one back, his flask of alcohol in front of him as if he was trying to banish a vampire.
"All right, all right," Vash placed both hands on my shoulders, "Enough creepy psychologist talk. Nobody likes a psychiatrist."
"That may actually explain a lot," I snapped right back, only to find myself chewing on a doughnut, courtesy of the professor's incredibly fast hands. Still, I remained quiet as I munched on it.
"Just keep him away from me," Qrow said, "And never, ever, leave me alone with him."
"I promise, Qrow," Vash said. "I won't leave you alone with Mister Wren if you'll tell us what you know about Tyrian Callows."
Qrow took a long gulp of his flask, and then rattled it a bit when it came back empty. He planted it on his desk, and began to rummage through his drawers for another bottle. "He's an assassin. He grew up in the ever-fertile underground belly of Mistral. A street rat, a dangerous lunatic on his best days and a mass murderer in his worsts-he was extremely volatile, and anyone willing to hire him was as mad as him, if not worse. You name it, he'd kill it. Men, women, children-no moral compunctions, no ethics. He'd burn down orphanages just as much as houses, kill people and wear their faces as masks." He found a bottle half-full, or half-empty in his case, and drank from it until it was utterly empty.
He then threw the bottle away. "Dunno how Ozpin does it," he added, "Even that Jimmy bastard makes it look so easy, but it's always Headmaster this, Headmaster that-" he snorted, and plopped down on his desk rather than the chair nearby. "Anyway, that damn bastard goes around Mistral offering his services, and I don't have any huntsmen to send his way, none that would survive encountering him. The local underground is more afraid of him than Haven-Leo left this place a fucking joke-" he snarled, "Damn bastard should have fixed his mess before taking the easy way out."
"Guess that would have been asking too much," Vash said with a dry chuckle. "There's no one else you can call on to hold the fort?"
Qrow shook his head. "No one that can be trusted. Mistral's-Mistral's fucked up, as always. The families do what they want, and there's tension in the air. This academy was supposed to be a place where their differences could find a common ground, where low and high class could get together-and instead it's now a ghost school. Even if Opened it, who'd send their students in a place with no teachers? And if I call huntsmen to be teachers, who's going to protect the people out there?" he passed a hand through his hair. "This is a travesty, that's what it is."
"Doesn't the increased payout send more huntsmen your way, though?" I asked.
"It does, but they're students, the smart huntsmen know there's Tyrian around," Qrow grumbled, "And they're smarter than you brats. We've already lost a couple of teams of students...no signal for weeks."
"A-Anyone we know?" Chez asked, her voice barely hiding her worries.
Qrow moved a hand to open a drawer, grabbed a handful of papers and then looked at them. "Team Bronze from Vacuo hasn't reported in, they were supposed to patrol across the train lines to Argus and check for problems along the rails. There also was a small settlement that stopped reporting in-"
I had a bad feeling about it.
"Can I see it?" I asked, extending a hand.
"Knock yourself out," Qrow retorted, throwing the paper my way. I looked at it, then grimaced at the name of the settlement in question. Brunswick Farms. It offended me. It terrified me. The screams echoed in the back of my head as I briefly tightened the grip on the edges of it. "Something you know?"
"How long ago did they stop reporting?" I asked instead, swallowing the screams back. Maybe we still had time to get to them. It might be a stretch, but-
"Two weeks, I'd send someone to check, but again, not enough people and-" Qrow grumbled, but I wasn't hearing him any longer. I just gave him the paper back, and shook my head. "Some insight you want to share with the class?"
"No, nothing really," I said with a dreadful sigh. Two weeks was more than enough to die from dehydration, regardless of how much they'd fall asleep or not. I knew what was in the area, and I suspected they had gone to investigate it.
"Whatever," Qrow sighed. "Anyway, I sure as hell don't need to tell you that Tyrian Callows is bad news. If you meet him alone, you'd better run to somewhere with a crowd. Then again, that might start a panic, which I think is his purpose. The people in the city are scared senseless, and that brings more Grimm close."
"And the underground is more scared of the lunatic assassin in the city than of the Grimm outside in the wilds," Vash sighed, a doughnut in his mouth the next second. "Really, some people can't help themselves. Is little Milly still in charge?"
Qrow sucked air in sharply. "Please don't destroy too much of Mistral this time around, Vash."
Vash made a dismissive gesture with one hand. "When have I ever caused property damage exceeding sixty million Lien?"
"That sounded like an incredible specific thing to say," I mused, arms behind my back, "Professor, are you perhaps attempting to hide your deep rooted insecurities and pain behind a facade of-"
Vash planted another doughnut in my mouth. "On second thoughts," he said calmly, and flatly, "I'm assigning you the mission to oversee the smooth operations of the Academy. A new school year is about to start here in Mistral, and you would look perfect as teachers."
I blinked as I bit onto my doughnut. "Professor...us, teachers?" Zhelty asked, warily.
"You are third years," Vash mused, "And if the problem is a lack of huntsmen, then the solution is to make more. Beacon functions pretty well with only half a dozen of teachers-and Qrow here used to be a teacher in Patch."
"I still damn am one," Qrow grumbled. "Those kids are missing me, writing me letters too-" he said proudly, even as I had the feeling that the letters were mostly death threats, "But anyway, I don't want that brat anywhere near me!" and then he jabbed a finger in my direction.
"Better!" Chez exclaimed, her hands protectively grabbing hold of one of my arms. "Wren has a bad habit of going after people in uniforms, and headmasters always want some alone time with him!" she added, much to my half-choking on my doughnut, "You won't get him bent over your desk! Not unless I get to watch, and record, and-"
Zhelty's fist slammed with the strength of a thundering meteorite, and actually sent Chez to recoil back. The Garden-Gnome's face was bright crimson red, and her fists were trembling with barely contained rage. "Y-You," she hissed. "Can't you hold it in for a couple of minutes!? Just a couple of minutes!"
"You know what," Qrow said suddenly, looking at our peak dysfunctional situation. "Sure. I'll take them."
Gorm coughed in his closed fist. "We have a criminal to find-"
Qrow mentioned the fixed monthly stipend. "And what better way than to have students on the lookout too," Gorm quickly finished.
I dreaded the future.
I truly, utterly, dreaded the future.
"By the way," Zhelty said after having calmed down enough, "Does this place have a garage of sorts?"
"Should have one," Qrow grumbled. "There should be stuff stored in there too. Help yourself to whatever you fancy. It's not like anybody's going to bother-"
I opened my mouth, and Vash held a doughnut in one hand, the silent message clear. "All right," I grumbled, "But shouldn't there be stuff like funding, money, investments-"
Qrow shrugged. I sighed even deeper, and glanced at Gorm. "Gorm-Sniff them financial documents out, if you'd please."
Gorm gave me a military salute. Meanwhile, Vash happily munched on the doughnut he had pulled out from his pockets of never-ending pastries, and walked off to talk to Little Milly, whoever she could ever be.
"Chez, have a look around. See what classrooms work, and what bedrooms there are," I said, knowing fully well this would put Chez out of commission for a couple of hours. With Zhelty gone seeking the wonders of Garage-Land, Qrow began to grow nervous as he realized we were the only two people left in the room.
"Now," I said with a sigh, "Brunswick farms have an Apathy problem, it's a bit of a dangerous Grimm that sucks your desire to do anything out-the team sent there...they're probably dead, and it would be best not to send anyone else that isn't informed of it."
Qrow gave a quiet nod at that, "Apathy, uh? Damn bastard of a Grimm, and they always travel in packs too," he added. "Oz said you're one of us now," he crossed his arms in front of his chest, "I said it was bullshit, but he said you could be trusted," he grimaced, "So, what's your take? Think we have a chance?"
I shrugged. "Does humanity still breathe? Do we still stand? Then I say it does," I answered with a wry grin. "But seriously..." I muttered, glancing around. "These alcoholism levels are way off the chart. Have you thought about checking into a clinic, or-"
"Out," Qrow grumbled. "Out brat," he added threateningly holding an empty bottle of liquor in hand. "Leave me to my very important headmaster work."
I gave him a small nod. "I'll leave you to your demons, and your nightmares," I said with a bitter smile, "But remember that the first step on the road of healing is to understand one's limitations, and strive to-"
The bottle sailed for my head with incredible precision, and I hastily grabbed hold of it with one hand. "Out," Qrow growled. "I never thought I'd see the day I'd prefer the Ice Queen over the likes of you, you damn...you damn Psych!"
I smiled, and then gently let the bottle down on a desk near the door, closing it behind me and then proceeding to walk through the hallways of Haven and its oppressive silent atmosphere.
We'd need recruitment posters and class curriculum...
...and what do you mean half our budget is already gone on stockpiling alcohol, Gorm!?
Haven didn't look like a safe haven, or like heaven either. It was some kind of strange mix between a school campus with a large open space, and a mixture of classes you could step into by sliding doors around. It was also empty for the most part. The emptiness itself was a telling tale.
"The problem is, we don't have enough huntsmen," Qrow grumbled, taking a long sip from his flak. "We need more teachers, we need more huntsmen active on the field, we need more students-we need more bodies to send out," he sipped a bit more, "Those we have are trash. The bottom of the bottom and most of them can't even be trusted to stick their heads out of their asses," he groaned as he slammed a hand against the surface of his desk.
We stood in the old Headmaster office, which was now apparently Qrow's own. The vast amount of empty liquor bottles hanging around precariously was one new feature, just like the scythe marks on the ground and the walls nearby.
"Well, we're here to help," Vash answered. "How is the headmaster's position treating you? Everything you could have asked for?"
Qrow sighed, "I do get to assign the school budget, and kids should learn to drink alcohol anyway."
"Please tell me that's a joke and you did not actually mishandle the school budget of Mistral's huntsman Academy," Zhelty took that as the cue to speak, eliciting a startled gasp from Qrow.
"The garden gnome talks!" he said sarcastically, "and whoever dressed it up had shit tastes," he added next.
"You-" Zhelty grumbled, even as I amiably placed a hand on Zhelty's shoulder, pacifying her with my gesture.
"Zhelty, don't take offense. The man needs some victories in his life, he's already got a crippling depression fed by his alcoholism, and his very own abrasive nature is merely a shield to keep people away and prevent them from finding out just how screwed up he feels he is," as I said that, as gently as I could, I could see silence settle in the room. "What this poor man needs is a gentle reassurance that he is still quite an acceptable member of society, and needs to be gently coaxed out of his habit with friendly gestures of understanding and acceptance. We can begin by complimenting him-"
"Stop," Qrow said. "Just stop. The fuck-you're twenty times worst than anything else-I'll take the ice queen over you. Go back where you came from. I don't want you-"
I smiled at him, and nodded. "I understand you need a friend, Mister Branwen. If you want, I can be your friend. Would you like a hug?" I took a step forward, and Qrow took one back, his flask of alcohol in front of him as if he was trying to banish a vampire.
"All right, all right," Vash placed both hands on my shoulders, "Enough creepy psychologist talk. Nobody likes a psychiatrist."
"That may actually explain a lot," I snapped right back, only to find myself chewing on a doughnut, courtesy of the professor's incredibly fast hands. Still, I remained quiet as I munched on it.
"Just keep him away from me," Qrow said, "And never, ever, leave me alone with him."
"I promise, Qrow," Vash said. "I won't leave you alone with Mister Wren if you'll tell us what you know about Tyrian Callows."
Qrow took a long gulp of his flask, and then rattled it a bit when it came back empty. He planted it on his desk, and began to rummage through his drawers for another bottle. "He's an assassin. He grew up in the ever-fertile underground belly of Mistral. A street rat, a dangerous lunatic on his best days and a mass murderer in his worsts-he was extremely volatile, and anyone willing to hire him was as mad as him, if not worse. You name it, he'd kill it. Men, women, children-no moral compunctions, no ethics. He'd burn down orphanages just as much as houses, kill people and wear their faces as masks." He found a bottle half-full, or half-empty in his case, and drank from it until it was utterly empty.
He then threw the bottle away. "Dunno how Ozpin does it," he added, "Even that Jimmy bastard makes it look so easy, but it's always Headmaster this, Headmaster that-" he snorted, and plopped down on his desk rather than the chair nearby. "Anyway, that damn bastard goes around Mistral offering his services, and I don't have any huntsmen to send his way, none that would survive encountering him. The local underground is more afraid of him than Haven-Leo left this place a fucking joke-" he snarled, "Damn bastard should have fixed his mess before taking the easy way out."
"Guess that would have been asking too much," Vash said with a dry chuckle. "There's no one else you can call on to hold the fort?"
Qrow shook his head. "No one that can be trusted. Mistral's-Mistral's fucked up, as always. The families do what they want, and there's tension in the air. This academy was supposed to be a place where their differences could find a common ground, where low and high class could get together-and instead it's now a ghost school. Even if Opened it, who'd send their students in a place with no teachers? And if I call huntsmen to be teachers, who's going to protect the people out there?" he passed a hand through his hair. "This is a travesty, that's what it is."
"Doesn't the increased payout send more huntsmen your way, though?" I asked.
"It does, but they're students, the smart huntsmen know there's Tyrian around," Qrow grumbled, "And they're smarter than you brats. We've already lost a couple of teams of students...no signal for weeks."
"A-Anyone we know?" Chez asked, her voice barely hiding her worries.
Qrow moved a hand to open a drawer, grabbed a handful of papers and then looked at them. "Team Bronze from Vacuo hasn't reported in, they were supposed to patrol across the train lines to Argus and check for problems along the rails. There also was a small settlement that stopped reporting in-"
I had a bad feeling about it.
"Can I see it?" I asked, extending a hand.
"Knock yourself out," Qrow retorted, throwing the paper my way. I looked at it, then grimaced at the name of the settlement in question. Brunswick Farms. It offended me. It terrified me. The screams echoed in the back of my head as I briefly tightened the grip on the edges of it. "Something you know?"
"How long ago did they stop reporting?" I asked instead, swallowing the screams back. Maybe we still had time to get to them. It might be a stretch, but-
"Two weeks, I'd send someone to check, but again, not enough people and-" Qrow grumbled, but I wasn't hearing him any longer. I just gave him the paper back, and shook my head. "Some insight you want to share with the class?"
"No, nothing really," I said with a dreadful sigh. Two weeks was more than enough to die from dehydration, regardless of how much they'd fall asleep or not. I knew what was in the area, and I suspected they had gone to investigate it.
"Whatever," Qrow sighed. "Anyway, I sure as hell don't need to tell you that Tyrian Callows is bad news. If you meet him alone, you'd better run to somewhere with a crowd. Then again, that might start a panic, which I think is his purpose. The people in the city are scared senseless, and that brings more Grimm close."
"And the underground is more scared of the lunatic assassin in the city than of the Grimm outside in the wilds," Vash sighed, a doughnut in his mouth the next second. "Really, some people can't help themselves. Is little Milly still in charge?"
Qrow sucked air in sharply. "Please don't destroy too much of Mistral this time around, Vash."
Vash made a dismissive gesture with one hand. "When have I ever caused property damage exceeding sixty million Lien?"
"That sounded like an incredible specific thing to say," I mused, arms behind my back, "Professor, are you perhaps attempting to hide your deep rooted insecurities and pain behind a facade of-"
Vash planted another doughnut in my mouth. "On second thoughts," he said calmly, and flatly, "I'm assigning you the mission to oversee the smooth operations of the Academy. A new school year is about to start here in Mistral, and you would look perfect as teachers."
I blinked as I bit onto my doughnut. "Professor...us, teachers?" Zhelty asked, warily.
"You are third years," Vash mused, "And if the problem is a lack of huntsmen, then the solution is to make more. Beacon functions pretty well with only half a dozen of teachers-and Qrow here used to be a teacher in Patch."
"I still damn am one," Qrow grumbled. "Those kids are missing me, writing me letters too-" he said proudly, even as I had the feeling that the letters were mostly death threats, "But anyway, I don't want that brat anywhere near me!" and then he jabbed a finger in my direction.
"Better!" Chez exclaimed, her hands protectively grabbing hold of one of my arms. "Wren has a bad habit of going after people in uniforms, and headmasters always want some alone time with him!" she added, much to my half-choking on my doughnut, "You won't get him bent over your desk! Not unless I get to watch, and record, and-"
Zhelty's fist slammed with the strength of a thundering meteorite, and actually sent Chez to recoil back. The Garden-Gnome's face was bright crimson red, and her fists were trembling with barely contained rage. "Y-You," she hissed. "Can't you hold it in for a couple of minutes!? Just a couple of minutes!"
"You know what," Qrow said suddenly, looking at our peak dysfunctional situation. "Sure. I'll take them."
Gorm coughed in his closed fist. "We have a criminal to find-"
Qrow mentioned the fixed monthly stipend. "And what better way than to have students on the lookout too," Gorm quickly finished.
I dreaded the future.
I truly, utterly, dreaded the future.
"By the way," Zhelty said after having calmed down enough, "Does this place have a garage of sorts?"
"Should have one," Qrow grumbled. "There should be stuff stored in there too. Help yourself to whatever you fancy. It's not like anybody's going to bother-"
I opened my mouth, and Vash held a doughnut in one hand, the silent message clear. "All right," I grumbled, "But shouldn't there be stuff like funding, money, investments-"
Qrow shrugged. I sighed even deeper, and glanced at Gorm. "Gorm-Sniff them financial documents out, if you'd please."
Gorm gave me a military salute. Meanwhile, Vash happily munched on the doughnut he had pulled out from his pockets of never-ending pastries, and walked off to talk to Little Milly, whoever she could ever be.
"Chez, have a look around. See what classrooms work, and what bedrooms there are," I said, knowing fully well this would put Chez out of commission for a couple of hours. With Zhelty gone seeking the wonders of Garage-Land, Qrow began to grow nervous as he realized we were the only two people left in the room.
"Now," I said with a sigh, "Brunswick farms have an Apathy problem, it's a bit of a dangerous Grimm that sucks your desire to do anything out-the team sent there...they're probably dead, and it would be best not to send anyone else that isn't informed of it."
Qrow gave a quiet nod at that, "Apathy, uh? Damn bastard of a Grimm, and they always travel in packs too," he added. "Oz said you're one of us now," he crossed his arms in front of his chest, "I said it was bullshit, but he said you could be trusted," he grimaced, "So, what's your take? Think we have a chance?"
I shrugged. "Does humanity still breathe? Do we still stand? Then I say it does," I answered with a wry grin. "But seriously..." I muttered, glancing around. "These alcoholism levels are way off the chart. Have you thought about checking into a clinic, or-"
"Out," Qrow grumbled. "Out brat," he added threateningly holding an empty bottle of liquor in hand. "Leave me to my very important headmaster work."
I gave him a small nod. "I'll leave you to your demons, and your nightmares," I said with a bitter smile, "But remember that the first step on the road of healing is to understand one's limitations, and strive to-"
The bottle sailed for my head with incredible precision, and I hastily grabbed hold of it with one hand. "Out," Qrow growled. "I never thought I'd see the day I'd prefer the Ice Queen over the likes of you, you damn...you damn Psych!"
I smiled, and then gently let the bottle down on a desk near the door, closing it behind me and then proceeding to walk through the hallways of Haven and its oppressive silent atmosphere.
We'd need recruitment posters and class curriculum...
...and what do you mean half our budget is already gone on stockpiling alcohol, Gorm!?
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Riha
Literally best girl
- Location
- New York
- Pronouns
- She/Her
That money was supposed to go to coffee dammit!
Coffee? what is this Beacon? Mistral is fantasy Asia Tea dominates this land! Until Fantasy Britain gets it addicted to hard drugs to lower the price.