The Other Path [RWBY SI] [AHOIAC AU]
- Thread starter shadenight123
- Start date
Exsequens
I Ent Dead!
- Location
- Back in the Toaster.
There goes Team BRNZ, dead after the Fall of Beacon, dead after the almost Fall of Atlas here too.
The way Wren has to take it and move on sure says how much the Law of the Desert has changed him, whether or not they come from the same academy. The strong survive, the weak die.
Which sounds like something out of Raven's quotes though. Otherwise trigger happy assassins with aura shattering weapons aside, I am crossing my fingers this time Raven actually uses her head to think straight and not end up dead and never more.
The way Wren has to take it and move on sure says how much the Law of the Desert has changed him, whether or not they come from the same academy. The strong survive, the weak die.
Which sounds like something out of Raven's quotes though. Otherwise trigger happy assassins with aura shattering weapons aside, I am crossing my fingers this time Raven actually uses her head to think straight and not end up dead and never more.
- Location
- Arizona
I forget was Team BRNZ friends with his team?
- Location
- Italy
Psychiatrist Wren is great. Best gag yet as far as I'm concerned.
- Location
- Some Apartment
Is fluff considered a viable method of therapy? If yes, Wren might be overqualified. He has a utility cat.
BRNZ has had no interaction with Sizzle, nor has NDGO despite both being Vacuo natives. Likely due to them being First years while Shade's team was second.
You know I have to wonder if a Raven that chose a different path would have taken her tribe to the deserts to live up to their Darwinist ideas.
You know I have to wonder if a Raven that chose a different path would have taken her tribe to the deserts to live up to their Darwinist ideas.
LastStandZiggy
Last To Fall
- Location
- Kingman, Az
No she wouldn't. Raven at heart is an utter Coward, to go to Vacuo would mean leaving behind people that are both easier to rob and have more stuff to take...
If she went to Vacuo the nomad clans would eat her and her "bandits" alive. Not to mention would mean bounties from Shade Academy to hunt her.
- Location
- Finland
...Ingredients for Molotov Cocktails?
- Location
- Elsewhere
That's deliberate.
People end up fixing themselves just to prove that smug psychiatrist wrong.
- Location
- Oceanside
Uh, I've always been told that psychiatrists deal more in medication, and not therapy - which would be a psychologist.
You could probably replace it with "shrink"... and I struggle to come up with more alternatives.
Same.
And I think that someone should really say it: If you feel that you have mental problems, please ignore the negative stereotypes surrounding them in media, and do go see a psychiatrist for an appointment.
Chapter Ninety-Nine
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
Chapter Ninety-Nine
The people of Mistral didn't like huntsmen. Sure, they needed huntsmen, but it didn't mean they liked them. They preferred brigands and low-lives. They preferred the scum of Remnant, the corrupt, the filth-and I couldn't really blame them. Being a huntsman required money, and the more I saw of Mistral, the more the meaning to the words 'Class Divide' were apparent. Only it wasn't a feeble one percent. It was more like some kind of wall in the ground. The upper levels of the mountain city, for Mistral was built upon a large mountain peak of sorts, were filled with rich, gracious men and graceful women wearing silks and laughing about their latest merchant trades.
They were escorted by armed bodyguards, by professional looking people or even huntsmen sometimes that came from outside. Yet they wouldn't answer the call of aid of the city itself; they were paid more to be the protectors of the rich, rather than to aid those in need.
And deep in the bowels of the underground, chaos and strength reigned over everything else.
Chez' ears were perked up as she walked by my side, purring pleasantly as we went about our business of seeking out our Professor, Specialist Vash. He had left for the city, and that was all nice and good, but he could have told us where he had gone, since we did need to decide on some basic rules of communication-what if Little Milly, whoever she was, had just plain up abandoned the city? Would we find him in a bar in a half-drunken stupor?
Those were the questions that plagued my mind. Chez' own was probably instead filled with nothing but Nyan-Cats and Cat-Memes. At least, that was my idea and I was sticking to it even as the fourth pickpocket of the day dimly realized it wasn't his day when a pair of firm fingers grabbed his wrist and then pulled him to the front. "First off, huntsmen. See the strange weapons? It means no touchy. Now go, educate your fellows about it," and then I let him go.
It would be useless to drag each of them to the police. I sincerely doubted the police even worked in this place. And if they did, then their inefficiency was a carefully oiled mechanism and disrupting it would be bad for a lot of other reasons.
"So Mistral has a couple of combat training academies," I muttered. "The upper levels we'll leave to Gorm and Zhelty, but the lower ones we'll have to deal with them ourselves."
Chez grinned, cocking her head to the right and to the left. "Nyah-Nyah-Nyanyanya~" she hummed, pleasantly, and having utterly ignored my words.
Seriously, sometimes my knowledge of my teammates' inner workings astounded me too.
The first combat academy we reached was near the city's river, the rushing waterfall by the side of the large mountain-top dropping straight into a basin and then forming a river that snaked across the poor sector of Mistral. The combat academy was right there nearby, and I could see a few students in the hard process of climbing and descending the walls, a few more standing under the rumbling waters to concentrate like Shaolin monks.
The teacher of the combat preparatory school was a bald man wearing yellow robes. He met us in a sand garden, his steps carrying him gracefully across it without bothering even a single grain of sand upon the surface. The two teachers of the academy left us alone with him, bowing out of the way and sliding the oriental paper-doors close behind us.
"I am Yao," the bald man spoke in a firm, confident voice. He made a small bow of the head. "I was expecting your arrival."
"I'm Wren," I answered back, bowing slightly in turn.
"And I'm Chez," Chez said, grinning and waving happily by my side.
"You come from Haven Academy," Yao said calmly, "And you come seeking bodies to add to the defense of Mistral."
I raised an eyebrow at that peculiar wording. "That sounds a bit-well, yes, but we just wanted to inform that Haven Academy will start taking new students in-"
Yao nodded, and chuckled gently. "You are foreigners to our ways, and I will not blame you for that. There is no choice here in my combat school," he kept the serene smile on. "The children who come from this academy go where I dictate they go. It is the price they pay for being educated freely in the ways of battle."
"And do the students agree to it?" I asked, puzzled.
Yao kept the smile on. I was starting to understand it wasn't a smile born of kindness or gentleness, but a fixture on his face. "They understand the consequences of their choices," he spoke calmly.
Chez furrowed her brows, "So...we have to pay for them?"
Yao grinned. "Indeed," he nodded. "I am glad you understand. They are an investment. Many end in the service of prominent and wealthy families, and as such some are selected at an early age to learn more about whom they will be employed under."
I crossed my arms in front of my chest, "And what about those who don't make the cut?"
Yao's smile remained there. "All investments bear fruits in their own way," he acquiesced. "There are many other talents the students possess, and those are cultivated too."
I was starting to get annoyed by the smile in question, even as Chez' hand came to grab hold of my wrist, and gently pulled me down to her level. "We still have to make the rounds of the other combat academies," Chez whispered, I sighed and gave her a gentle nod.
"Very well," I said. "Since we are ignorant, but seek to understand your culture better," I added trying to sound as gentle as I could, "is there a price catalog of sorts?"
I didn't know what hurt me the most inside. The fact that there was, or the fact that they even gave us copies of it to bring home.
"This is no different than a slaver's trade," I hissed under my breath as I clutched the catalog in my hands. "They split them on weight-lifting and lap-speed," I groaned as I felt bile rise to the top of my throat. "This is a market. One whose prices are inflated due to necessity," I took a deep breath, even as I felt Chez' hand gently pat my back. I was shaking. I was shaking from barely contained anger.
There were people dying out there, and there was misery in the streets. There were hungry, impoverished families barely eking a living, and-and it was allowed. I looked straight up at the top of the mountain, where Mistral's rich ones stood and I couldn't help but grind my teeth.
"Hey you!" a voice that was pretty much a dog's growl rose from a side-street. I turned my head to the source, even as Chez calmly placed her back against mine in case someone came from behind us. She shouldn't have worried. The figure coming out from the side alley was a dog-faunus, white dog-like ears on his head and golden eyes. He wore a filthy red robe of sorts, which looked more like a curtain hastily ripped off and then badly sued together.
His hair was black, making the contrast with his ears quite stark. "Saw you come out from smiling Yao's place," the young man was a teenager, probably fifteen of age at a quick glance. "You looking to hire bodyguards?"
"Students for Haven," I answered back.
The boy tensed ever so briefly. "Haven? Heard it closed," the boy grumbled. "If it's not a job, then I'm not interested-"
"Being a student comes with some perks," I said, "Like food, a uniform, and training. Also, missions as early as the first year can make you earn quite a lot of Lien."
The dark-haired boy stopped in his retreat, eyes half-narrow. "But there's studying involved, isn't there?" he growled.
"Not really," I lied easily enough. "Not at first at least, and most definitely not with how Mistral needs huntsmen, rather than scholars. Getting in now might save you the headache later, since we definitely might start a theoretical curriculum later, but right now? We just need people willing to fight for money."
"I can do that," the boy said, sounding happy about it. "Do I need to sign anything? Cause I can't read or write-"
I grinned at that. "You know where Haven academy is?" I asked, and once he nodded I continued, "Just head there and tell the drunken headmaster in charge that Wren sent you and to give you room and board."
"I've got a couple of friends-" the boy said, "Can they sign up too?"
I smiled. "Sure, but do tell them that it's going to be tough the first couple of weeks. You'll end up fighting Grimm, but the Lien's worth it in the end."
"All right," he grinned. "I'm Chien, by the way."
"And I'm Wren," I added. "Probably going to end up being your professor down the road, so..." I winked, "Make me proud, kid."
"We barely know each other!" Chien grumbled, "But if you're a professor there, then I guess it's not that bad of an academy, see you there!" and with that, he was off.
Chez hummed pleasantly even as I calmly grabbed hold of the catalog and proceeded to dump it in a nearby garbage bin. "You'd be really, really good with kittens," Chez mused from my side.
I rolled my eyes and we proceeded. The dirt streets were sometimes riddled with potholes, or people trudging about in various states of filth. The second combat academy we reached was in a courtyard of sorts. The students there looked distinctly better off, if because they were sons and daughters of bodyguards themselves, or because their parents were normal police officers or soldiers. At least, that was what the woman in charge of the academy told us.
The smile on the old woman's face was second only to the amount of wrinkles she had. The long pipe in one of her hands made me wary. The food arrayed in a nice banquet from which she seemed to be the only one allowed to eat from made me even more wary.
"I was so displeased to hear that Haven's academy had closed," she said, a pleasant smile on her face. "But where are my manners? I am Mistress Yoku, the owner of this combat academy."
I gave her a quiet nod of the head, "I feel like telling my name might spirit me away," I muttered offhandedly under my breath, Chez' ears perking up, "Still, I'm going to take the risk," I cleared my throat, "My name's-"
"Wrenny," Chez said with a bright Cheshire-Cat approved grin. "And I'm Chezzy."
The old woman smiled at that, nodding her head. "It is a pleasure to meet you both. Is this merely a social call, or do you wish to purview our educational curriculum?"
I wondered if doing that would cost us our souls. I didn't want to risk it, but at the same time it didn't mean that people inspired from evil-characters would necessary be evil themselves, no?
"We might as well," I answered. The old lady nodded at that.
"Cerere!" she snapped loudly, "where are you, you insufferable wastrel!?"
And there it was.
Maybe I should bring an army to purge Mistral next time I swung about. Perhaps Gorm wasn't wrong. I should start building the foundations of my promised kingdom from the ruins of this land.
But no. That would be bad.
We left an hour later, my fists clenched tightly as I held into my throat words I wished desperately to speak, and yet could not. Honestly, I could understand how people like Tyrian were born from this land. I could even fathom how Cinder had come to be whom she was, if she too hailed from this land. Perhaps it was only the capital. I knew Pyrrha came from Argus, for example, and Argus looked like a normal city-then again, wasn't it the influence of Atlas in it?
Perhaps Atlas should puppet Mistral.
That would do the world of Remnant a whole lot of good. Sometimes, political upheaval was justified when-
A warm hand grabbed hold of my wrist once more. "Wren," she whispered, "We're being followed."
I stopped walking. The streets weren't that deserted yet, but the sun was starting to leave the place to the night.
I turned, very calmly, and stared into the crowd. A couple of figures locked eyes with me, and then stopped nearby either to examine wares, or to place their backs against the walls to smoke some kind of cigarette.
I smiled, and then took a side-alley while holding Chez' hand.
When the first man rushed through it, I was relieved.
I needed someway to vent my frustrations...
...and what better way than beating evil into an unconscious heap on the ground? What better way indeed?
The people of Mistral didn't like huntsmen. Sure, they needed huntsmen, but it didn't mean they liked them. They preferred brigands and low-lives. They preferred the scum of Remnant, the corrupt, the filth-and I couldn't really blame them. Being a huntsman required money, and the more I saw of Mistral, the more the meaning to the words 'Class Divide' were apparent. Only it wasn't a feeble one percent. It was more like some kind of wall in the ground. The upper levels of the mountain city, for Mistral was built upon a large mountain peak of sorts, were filled with rich, gracious men and graceful women wearing silks and laughing about their latest merchant trades.
They were escorted by armed bodyguards, by professional looking people or even huntsmen sometimes that came from outside. Yet they wouldn't answer the call of aid of the city itself; they were paid more to be the protectors of the rich, rather than to aid those in need.
And deep in the bowels of the underground, chaos and strength reigned over everything else.
Chez' ears were perked up as she walked by my side, purring pleasantly as we went about our business of seeking out our Professor, Specialist Vash. He had left for the city, and that was all nice and good, but he could have told us where he had gone, since we did need to decide on some basic rules of communication-what if Little Milly, whoever she was, had just plain up abandoned the city? Would we find him in a bar in a half-drunken stupor?
Those were the questions that plagued my mind. Chez' own was probably instead filled with nothing but Nyan-Cats and Cat-Memes. At least, that was my idea and I was sticking to it even as the fourth pickpocket of the day dimly realized it wasn't his day when a pair of firm fingers grabbed his wrist and then pulled him to the front. "First off, huntsmen. See the strange weapons? It means no touchy. Now go, educate your fellows about it," and then I let him go.
It would be useless to drag each of them to the police. I sincerely doubted the police even worked in this place. And if they did, then their inefficiency was a carefully oiled mechanism and disrupting it would be bad for a lot of other reasons.
"So Mistral has a couple of combat training academies," I muttered. "The upper levels we'll leave to Gorm and Zhelty, but the lower ones we'll have to deal with them ourselves."
Chez grinned, cocking her head to the right and to the left. "Nyah-Nyah-Nyanyanya~" she hummed, pleasantly, and having utterly ignored my words.
Seriously, sometimes my knowledge of my teammates' inner workings astounded me too.
The first combat academy we reached was near the city's river, the rushing waterfall by the side of the large mountain-top dropping straight into a basin and then forming a river that snaked across the poor sector of Mistral. The combat academy was right there nearby, and I could see a few students in the hard process of climbing and descending the walls, a few more standing under the rumbling waters to concentrate like Shaolin monks.
The teacher of the combat preparatory school was a bald man wearing yellow robes. He met us in a sand garden, his steps carrying him gracefully across it without bothering even a single grain of sand upon the surface. The two teachers of the academy left us alone with him, bowing out of the way and sliding the oriental paper-doors close behind us.
"I am Yao," the bald man spoke in a firm, confident voice. He made a small bow of the head. "I was expecting your arrival."
"I'm Wren," I answered back, bowing slightly in turn.
"And I'm Chez," Chez said, grinning and waving happily by my side.
"You come from Haven Academy," Yao said calmly, "And you come seeking bodies to add to the defense of Mistral."
I raised an eyebrow at that peculiar wording. "That sounds a bit-well, yes, but we just wanted to inform that Haven Academy will start taking new students in-"
Yao nodded, and chuckled gently. "You are foreigners to our ways, and I will not blame you for that. There is no choice here in my combat school," he kept the serene smile on. "The children who come from this academy go where I dictate they go. It is the price they pay for being educated freely in the ways of battle."
"And do the students agree to it?" I asked, puzzled.
Yao kept the smile on. I was starting to understand it wasn't a smile born of kindness or gentleness, but a fixture on his face. "They understand the consequences of their choices," he spoke calmly.
Chez furrowed her brows, "So...we have to pay for them?"
Yao grinned. "Indeed," he nodded. "I am glad you understand. They are an investment. Many end in the service of prominent and wealthy families, and as such some are selected at an early age to learn more about whom they will be employed under."
I crossed my arms in front of my chest, "And what about those who don't make the cut?"
Yao's smile remained there. "All investments bear fruits in their own way," he acquiesced. "There are many other talents the students possess, and those are cultivated too."
I was starting to get annoyed by the smile in question, even as Chez' hand came to grab hold of my wrist, and gently pulled me down to her level. "We still have to make the rounds of the other combat academies," Chez whispered, I sighed and gave her a gentle nod.
"Very well," I said. "Since we are ignorant, but seek to understand your culture better," I added trying to sound as gentle as I could, "is there a price catalog of sorts?"
I didn't know what hurt me the most inside. The fact that there was, or the fact that they even gave us copies of it to bring home.
"This is no different than a slaver's trade," I hissed under my breath as I clutched the catalog in my hands. "They split them on weight-lifting and lap-speed," I groaned as I felt bile rise to the top of my throat. "This is a market. One whose prices are inflated due to necessity," I took a deep breath, even as I felt Chez' hand gently pat my back. I was shaking. I was shaking from barely contained anger.
There were people dying out there, and there was misery in the streets. There were hungry, impoverished families barely eking a living, and-and it was allowed. I looked straight up at the top of the mountain, where Mistral's rich ones stood and I couldn't help but grind my teeth.
"Hey you!" a voice that was pretty much a dog's growl rose from a side-street. I turned my head to the source, even as Chez calmly placed her back against mine in case someone came from behind us. She shouldn't have worried. The figure coming out from the side alley was a dog-faunus, white dog-like ears on his head and golden eyes. He wore a filthy red robe of sorts, which looked more like a curtain hastily ripped off and then badly sued together.
His hair was black, making the contrast with his ears quite stark. "Saw you come out from smiling Yao's place," the young man was a teenager, probably fifteen of age at a quick glance. "You looking to hire bodyguards?"
"Students for Haven," I answered back.
The boy tensed ever so briefly. "Haven? Heard it closed," the boy grumbled. "If it's not a job, then I'm not interested-"
"Being a student comes with some perks," I said, "Like food, a uniform, and training. Also, missions as early as the first year can make you earn quite a lot of Lien."
The dark-haired boy stopped in his retreat, eyes half-narrow. "But there's studying involved, isn't there?" he growled.
"Not really," I lied easily enough. "Not at first at least, and most definitely not with how Mistral needs huntsmen, rather than scholars. Getting in now might save you the headache later, since we definitely might start a theoretical curriculum later, but right now? We just need people willing to fight for money."
"I can do that," the boy said, sounding happy about it. "Do I need to sign anything? Cause I can't read or write-"
I grinned at that. "You know where Haven academy is?" I asked, and once he nodded I continued, "Just head there and tell the drunken headmaster in charge that Wren sent you and to give you room and board."
"I've got a couple of friends-" the boy said, "Can they sign up too?"
I smiled. "Sure, but do tell them that it's going to be tough the first couple of weeks. You'll end up fighting Grimm, but the Lien's worth it in the end."
"All right," he grinned. "I'm Chien, by the way."
"And I'm Wren," I added. "Probably going to end up being your professor down the road, so..." I winked, "Make me proud, kid."
"We barely know each other!" Chien grumbled, "But if you're a professor there, then I guess it's not that bad of an academy, see you there!" and with that, he was off.
Chez hummed pleasantly even as I calmly grabbed hold of the catalog and proceeded to dump it in a nearby garbage bin. "You'd be really, really good with kittens," Chez mused from my side.
I rolled my eyes and we proceeded. The dirt streets were sometimes riddled with potholes, or people trudging about in various states of filth. The second combat academy we reached was in a courtyard of sorts. The students there looked distinctly better off, if because they were sons and daughters of bodyguards themselves, or because their parents were normal police officers or soldiers. At least, that was what the woman in charge of the academy told us.
The smile on the old woman's face was second only to the amount of wrinkles she had. The long pipe in one of her hands made me wary. The food arrayed in a nice banquet from which she seemed to be the only one allowed to eat from made me even more wary.
"I was so displeased to hear that Haven's academy had closed," she said, a pleasant smile on her face. "But where are my manners? I am Mistress Yoku, the owner of this combat academy."
I gave her a quiet nod of the head, "I feel like telling my name might spirit me away," I muttered offhandedly under my breath, Chez' ears perking up, "Still, I'm going to take the risk," I cleared my throat, "My name's-"
"Wrenny," Chez said with a bright Cheshire-Cat approved grin. "And I'm Chezzy."
The old woman smiled at that, nodding her head. "It is a pleasure to meet you both. Is this merely a social call, or do you wish to purview our educational curriculum?"
I wondered if doing that would cost us our souls. I didn't want to risk it, but at the same time it didn't mean that people inspired from evil-characters would necessary be evil themselves, no?
"We might as well," I answered. The old lady nodded at that.
"Cerere!" she snapped loudly, "where are you, you insufferable wastrel!?"
And there it was.
Maybe I should bring an army to purge Mistral next time I swung about. Perhaps Gorm wasn't wrong. I should start building the foundations of my promised kingdom from the ruins of this land.
But no. That would be bad.
We left an hour later, my fists clenched tightly as I held into my throat words I wished desperately to speak, and yet could not. Honestly, I could understand how people like Tyrian were born from this land. I could even fathom how Cinder had come to be whom she was, if she too hailed from this land. Perhaps it was only the capital. I knew Pyrrha came from Argus, for example, and Argus looked like a normal city-then again, wasn't it the influence of Atlas in it?
Perhaps Atlas should puppet Mistral.
That would do the world of Remnant a whole lot of good. Sometimes, political upheaval was justified when-
A warm hand grabbed hold of my wrist once more. "Wren," she whispered, "We're being followed."
I stopped walking. The streets weren't that deserted yet, but the sun was starting to leave the place to the night.
I turned, very calmly, and stared into the crowd. A couple of figures locked eyes with me, and then stopped nearby either to examine wares, or to place their backs against the walls to smoke some kind of cigarette.
I smiled, and then took a side-alley while holding Chez' hand.
When the first man rushed through it, I was relieved.
I needed someway to vent my frustrations...
...and what better way than beating evil into an unconscious heap on the ground? What better way indeed?
LordOfPears12
Cat girl headpatter
- Location
- Land of pizza,pasta and lasagna.
"Mister Shadenight give me sweet dreams"
Atlas should annex every city. Everything shall become a puppet state to stronk might of Atlas. Wait you say Vale has it's academy, What! sorry, can't hear you over the sound of Vale being annexed by Atlas.
Wren looks around for promising cannon food... I mean future students to attend the Academy of Mistral. Speaking about the academy does it still have enough funds left or did Qrow use it all to drown himself in alcohol.
Last edited:
Fragnostic
Cheshire
- Location
- Neko City
You need to drop some trash on the ground because Chez wants a litter!
Exsequens
I Ent Dead!
- Location
- Back in the Toaster.
Silly Wren, Chez's head isn't filled with nothing but Nyan Cat and cat memes. ~
Chez's head is filled with Nyan Cat, cat memes, getting Wren to marry and give her kittens, the security of Team SZSR and especially Wren, her mission, chainsaws, and FIRE.
Last edited:
Spatial
I'm Special
- Location
- Italy
And like this both storylines converge...
After all, this is The Other Path and all paths lead to somewhere, in this case to God Emperor Wren Shade, Ruler of Remnant!
Story 1: teching victory
Story 2: social/diplo victory paired with glorious conquest
Story 3: betrayal and spy victory... ?
AzraelvonGruber
probably should put something here...
- Location
- somewhere in France
You know what Mistral need ? A good old Révolution à la French ( So Atlas can come in and take powers once the high class has been cut down)
Also Wren is going to end with an harem before long i tell you !
Also Wren is going to end with an harem before long i tell you !
- Location
- Finland
Doooooo eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet
And maybe Vacuo.
Burning down Mistral?
Not every city.... Vale is at least amanging to somewhat old its shit together, Vacuo is so-and-so, but Mistral? Nah, those bumpkins need to be annexed, and maybe torched to the ground.
If they're young, force them into the academy. Then inspire them to "Go beyond! PLUS ULTRA!"
Invadingcat478
Certified Homophone
- Location
- Nekoneko town
Isnt slapping people with their own suffering fun? As a grade A bitch Wren choking people with their own vulnerabilities really turns me on. Sweet Wren should do this more often.
Virian
Sage of Reason and incomplete information
- Location
- Where logic has never been before
- Pronouns
- he/him
It is if they're horrible people.