dalek-ix-writes-stuff

[dalek-ix-writes-stuff]

Teamball is a powerful thing.

As I was pondering the recent development of western leftists now supporting the IRI because they are at war with Israel, thus abandoning the actual people of Iran to this brutal regime, and their earlier abandonment of Ukraine in favor of Russia, and their support for the Houthis, Hezbollah, and even in some cases the Taliban, I was trying to figured out how the hell one gets there from the starting place of supposedly supporting human rights. And the only unifying thing I can figure out is that it seems to come down to supporting anyone and any group that acts in opposition to "the West."

But why?

What's wrong with "The West"™️? What sins have been committed in the West that haven't also been committed in the East (and in plenty of cases are actively still ongoing)?

Because to my recollection, the problem that leftists theoretically have with the West is that it has been built on and amassed wealth based on colonialism, imperialism, slavery, wars of aggression, genocide, and mass human rights abuses. Many take issue with Christianity (particular in its evangelical fundamentalist iteration) as a major driving force and weapon of Western imperialism.

Those are all objectively terrible, horrifying things and good reasons to hate the West and Western hegemony — you won't get any disagreement from me there! However, none of that, no matter how deeply baked into the DNA of the West it may be, is (a) inherent to the West, or (b) unique.

In fact, the East is full of (and in large part also built on) colonialism, imperialism, slavery, wars of aggression, genocide, mass human rights abuses, and fundamentalist, expansionist religions. All of these same issues exist there too! The groups and countries western leftists are stanning are themselves guilty of these same things! So where is the value in being anti-West when the East contains the same problems?

I know I'm asking a dumb question here but: have the people supporting these groups actually thought through why they're so anti-West lately? Because I really don't think they have. There is nothing ontologically or uniquely evil about the West; if the justification for hating the West and everything that flows from it (or that they associate with it, correctly or not) is this list of egregious evil acts, surely they should hate any country or group that engages in that same evil act, no?

And I realize that there are a large number of this sort of person who are just ignorant of history and the facts on the ground outside of the West, or they have been made aware and choose to ignore it as "propaganda" or lies. Even if we rule those people out, I've encountered folks who still just have a burning hatred for the West even if they have accepted the reality of atrocities outside the West committed by non-Westerners against other non-Westerners. And that's something I just truly do not understand; like what's up with that? What gives?

[dalek-ix-writes-stuff]

Add another point to my "Leftists are Fascists wearing Red" theory.

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Is capitalism even real at this point? Does the word mean anything anymore when it can be whatever people (don't) want?

Managers: please stop trying to persuade/motivate/coerce people into doing their task until you've actually checked it's a thing they're capable of.

The amount of my time that gets wasted by managers motivating me to do a thing I lack permission/data/understanding to do. Especialy with a certain kind of touchy-feely person from sales or whatever who spends ages gushing their emotions all over the place to express how sad they'll be if I don't do a task which is meaninglessly vauge, litterally impossible, or way beyond my resources.

[dalek-ix-writes-stuff]

Ok, quick question related what @generallemarc said about Taylor Swift and the Country's GDP amount of money she's earned:

Has anyone HERE actually seen the hyperpopular, multi-billon-dollar-earning stuff? Avatar (Cameron) 2? That sorta thing?

I don't think I actually know who Sabrina Carpenter is, but I agree wholeheartedly with the above sentiment. Very eloquently put.

[dalek-ix-writes-stuff]

In summary:

Taylor Swift is not queer/lesbian.

Some people insist on reimagining TS as queer/lesbian or saying that she is, secretly.

They do this DESPITE the pop music scene overflowing with bi ans lesbian singers of all flavors for them to choose from.

OP is, understandably, complaining about this (the previous three (3) points).

NOBODY ON TUMBLR DOT COM CAN FUCKING READ.

I think that's the gist of it.

all goofing aside I genuinely don't understand the urge to reimagine Taylor Allison Swift as a secretly queer icon when the pop music scene(TM) is like. literally overflowing with women who actually like women. Gaga and Kesha and Miley and Halsey are right there. Rina Sawayama and Hayley Kiyoko and Rebecca Black and Kehlani and Victoria Monét and Miya Folick if you're willing to get slightly less top 100. Janelle and Demi for them nonbinary takes on liking girls. like what are we doing here. like I'm not even saying you can't enjoy Taylor but why would you hang all your little gay hopes on her.

[dalek-ix-writes-stuff]

The Dad Urge to go "I can do this myself" applies even to medical professionals, apparently.

i dont know why anyone else misses analog board games, but to me, it's because physical parts let me cheat. there's no moving pieces around when someone isnt looking in a chess app, no sneaking bonus pieces out of the graveyard in checkers, no double drawing cards in go fish.

i spent years developing those skills as a Professional Little Brother. what am i supposed to do now, go back to college? learn how to play games the right way? i mean, who gives a shit? the fun part was never the game, it was the Getting Away With It. or, you know, for the rest of my family, Catching The Bastard. now that was entertainment.

[dalek-ix-writes-stuff]

Many such cases

This is going to sound so "oldie yells at cloud" of me but the radicalisation of the young into black and white, zero shades of grey thinking, both in the media they consume and in real life situations, is genuinely terrifying.

The world is complex. The world is grey. There is infinite nuance in everything. No amount of trying to shove it all into neatly labeled boxes is ever going to work.

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Hypocrisy is basically baked into SJWism from the get go. For them, there's no such thing as bad tactics; only bad targets.

It's a disgusting level of cynisism.

[dalek-ix-writes-stuff]

An un-fallen Angel

rebellious angel 😇

[dalek-ix-writes-stuff]

Insane Writing Tips #1

For all you prospective writers(tm) out there, if you want to do some worldbuilding for your setting, remember to list out the following:

The writer's barely disguised (optional) fetish (multiple if possible).

The writer's unhinged political beliefs.

The writer's esoteric religious beliefs.

The writer's batshit conspiracy theory (multiple if possible).

The writer's jaw-droppingly idiotic pseudoscience.

Historical figures, countries, great powers, wars.

Characters (optional).

Plot (really optional).

Note: Remember that creativity is key! Real life and/or current political beliefs, pseudoscience and conspiracy theories are boring! Make something new and mad and wolderful!

One easy way to make a new conspiracy is to take an existing one and reverse it. "The Moon Landing Was Faked" becomes "Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldring didn't just go to the moon, they stayed there and something else came back".

[dalek-ix-writes-stuff]

Red Ruin - INTERVAL 02: FIRST ENCOUNTER (Part VI)

The Nevermore's scream brought joy to Ruby's heart.

The reaper ran towards the pillars, her soul singing as things began to click into place. She had to swallow the laugh that threatened to burst out of her throat, but no amount of self-control could hide the grin that cut across her face from ear to ear.

They deserve to die. They ALL deserve to die.

She pulled ahead, terribly aware that it was Yang who was literally riding the Nevermore for her. Some part of her wanted to scream at Blake and Weiss to be faster, but she clamped down on those impulses; the plan, she reminded herself, depended on timing, not speed.

"Come on!"

… That didn't mean a little encouragement wouldn't hurt.

----------

Ruby, Blake realized, was fast, even without her semblance, and even with the weight of her monstrously oversized weapon weighing her down.

How much does that thing weigh? How can she move this fast with it?

She didn't look as strong as her sister did, but-

… she can hear everything I'm thinking, can she?

Blake shook herself. Focus. Move.

She heard Weiss call out. "Casting haste!"

Blake almost asked what her partner had meant, but then the ground underneath her next step glowed, and time

slowed

down, and she understood what Weiss had meant.

Sounds became distorted. The world seemed strange and dreamlike, and Blake felt as if she were running through syrup and she found, to her surprise, that she was catching up to Ruby.

(The predatory, almost wolfish smile she glanced on Ruby Rose's face made her shudder.)

She scrambled up the stone pillar. The Haste Glyph wore off halfway up, but Blake's semblance brought her up the rest of the way with a single moment of discontinuity. Her fingers dug into cracks in the rock, and she hurled Gambol at the pillar on the opposite side of the stone bridge, propelling it forwards with a burst from the gun component.

----------

The wind screamed. Her heart was beating like a drum. Her body burned, aura flaring around her and tongues of flame licking at her wild mane.

Kr-shnk.

"Still hungry?! How about a knuckle sandwich!!"

Boom.

In other words: Yang was having the time of her life.

Kr-shnk.

Boom.

Yang was also possibly in the most danger she'd ever been in in her entire life, barring a couple prominent incidents she was not going to think about.

When people talk about "Riding the Nevermore", they're not usually being literal.

Despite never taking any lessons in Nevermore Wrangling –not that any existed, she suspected–, in Yang's humble opinion she was doing pretty well for herself. She'd managed to hold on to the bony mask in spite of the monster doing its best to shake her off, and she'd also discovered that she could kinda force it to go in one direction or another by punching and kicking it in its face.

Bumblebee this guy ain't.

A

pulse

in the back of her head told her Ruby was ready, and her grin turned feral.

Well, time to ditch this ride! Your turn, Ruby!

Grabbing hold of the Nevermore's mask's bony horn with both hands, she pushed off with her feet, and then kicked the monster's uppermost eyes, making it screech with pain and go into a dive.

----------

Weiss knew that, had she presented this plan to any of her tutors, Father would've called her to his office before the day was out. Even beyond that… it had far too many moving parts, too much risk; it relied on Yang not being thrown off and crashing the Nevermore into a cliff, on the ribbon that unspooled from Blake's weapon being long enough and not snapping under the stress, on Ruby –that strange, strange girl who had done

something

in the forest (why couldn't she remember?) timing everything right…

(Weiss refused to entertain the thought that she wouldn't play her part in this correctly. Failure on her part was not an option.)

And yet…

The gun-sickle spun through the air, black ribbon trailing behind. For one brief second, Weiss was afraid that it would fall short, but then the gun part fired a burst at just the right moment to send it across, and then around the pillar on the far side, wrapping the ribbon around it several times over before embedding itself into the stone. Blake pulled the ribbon taut, and then spun herself around the pillar she'd climbed, anchoring the slingshot on her end.

The Giant Nevermore which had given them so much grief crashed into the cliffs in front of them, Yang jumping away with only a moment to spare, carried by blazing buckshot from her gauntlets.

Not a moment later, Ruby swung her scythe behind herself, blade down, and leapt at the same time as the –to Weiss's eye– monstrously oversized not-a-rifle component fired, propelling the odd girl up into the air. She sailed under the ribbon and the scythe's hook caught on it. The slingshot stretched one way, and then came back, Ruby flipping herself and her scythe around it and then firing it to propel herself further back.

Myrtenaster's cylinder spun.

Left foot forwards, right back, swing up and squeeze…!

A gravity glyph burst into being right underneath Ruby's feet. Her cloaked dropped as if it were made of lead, and Ruby's knees briefly buckled under her own weight before her aura flared and she stood back up, scythe held tight in both hands.

Forwards, swing down, up and squeeze…!

Myrtenaster fired again, creating an array of haste glyphs in front of Ruby. Again, and ice pinned the Nevermore's tail as it tried to lift up again.

And then Weiss was standing at Ruby's side.

When she first met her, Weiss had gotten the impression of someone… excitable, but awkward and painfully shy. When they'd met again, she'd learned more. Ruby had a sister. Ruby had a hatred for the Creatures of Grimm so absolute it verged on the fanatical.

Ruby had a condition.

Now, Weiss got to learn more about Ruby Rose. The grin on red-cloaked girl's face was wolfish enough to give Weiss pause and send a trail of ice water down her spine, but her eyes… Ruby's eyes had a light to them that Weiss hadn't seen on the girl before.

Those silver eyes looked at her. "Think you can make the shot?" Ruby asked, almost playfully.

Weiss almost rolled her eyes on impulse. "Can I?" she scoffed, "Of course I can."

Foot forwards, breathe in…

----------

Crescent Rose's bolt cycled.

Myrtenaster's cylinder clicked into place.

Gambol Shroud's ribbon strained, it's owner's Aura holding it together.

Ember and Celica roared, buckshot making the Nevermore flinch as the pellets skid across its mask.

----------

Myrtenaster's blade weaved a pattern into the air.

The gravity glyph inverted, and Ruby flew. Crescent Rose sung in her hands as she passed through the haste glyphs, muzzle break shifting to direct her forwards even as she swung it back and rotated the blade to be almost in line with the barrel. Her semblance flickered, and Ruby flew even faster. Faster!

The Nevermore had broken free. It was trying to fly, trying to get away, trying to escape.

Red flickered around Ruby Rose.

It would not. There was no escape. There was only death.

Ruby flew. A comet of steel, fire, flesh and hate that tore across the air, curving up towards her prey.

OH, WHAT A BIG SCYTHE I HAVE!

Crescent Rose's blade sank into the Grimm's flesh

ALL THE BETTER TO CUT YOU WITH!

and this time, Ruby's pride and joy cut through.

It was generally accepted that the Creatures of Grimm were incapable of feeling fear. Ruby had discovered (or, maybe, she'd always known) otherwise; they could feel fear. You just had to force them to.

And as red-wreathed Ruby Rose propelled herself up the Nevermore's body, and as Crescent Rose kept cutting and cutting, splitting the beast in two from tail to head, she made sure that the Nevermore felt nothing else, right up until the moment Crescent Rose cut through the last if its flesh, and it finally, finally died, its bisected body falling down, trailing black smoke as it began to vanish.

Ruby fell, flipping onto the edge of the cliff, landing with a crouch with Crescent Rose laid across her shoulders.

She stood back up and turned to face everyone else with a little wobble to her knees, and for the first time in a long, long while, it was quiet inside her mind.

It hurt to smile this much. Ruby didn't mind; this pain, she'd be happy to take. She took the deepest breath her burning lungs could take and let out a cheer loud enough to echo.

----------

"Wow…"

Cree- er, Ruby Rose was screaming as if she'd scored the last goal in the tournament. Jaune couldn't blame her –she'd cut that giant monster in two!– but frankly he was too exhausted to celebrate his own victory, let alone someone else's.

(Naturally, Nora still had plenty of energy for that. Hence why she was spinning an almost-comatose Ren around and around.)

"That was pretty impressive," Pyrrha agreed, sitting next to where Jaune had chosen to lay down, left knee bent up so she could rest her arms on it. "Same goes for you, Jaune." The smile on her face was faint. "Thank you."

Jaune almost choked. "M-me!?" he spluttered, "I should be thanking you! And Ren! And Nora! I just-"

"-kept all four of us alive until the others came," Pyrrha gently corrected him, "by realizing we could take advantage of the ruins to keep the Grimm from working together."

"… It didn't work," Jaune mumbled, remembering the sheer panic at the end.

Pyrrha shrugged. "It worked long enough, and that's what matters," she told him. "And then you got the Deathstalker to sting itself."

"Nora had to hammer that stinger in for that to work," Jaune shot back, although without much heat.

"Which she couldn't've done without everyone else keeping it in place," Pyrrha added. "It might not have been as showy as… well." She gestured at the other four –Ruby had gotten down from the cliff and was in danger of being hugged to death by the blonde whose name Jaune hadn't learned yet–, "But a victory is a victory. Besides…"

She glanced away. "… this was hardly my best performance."

Jaune stared. What.

"… What?"

Pyrrha looked genuinely embarrassed. "Fighting Grimm isn't my… strongest point. I'm more used to fighting… well, humans." A blink. "And faunus, I guess…? Comes with being a tournament fighter."

Jaune stared some more. That was… er…

Green eyes looked at him in concern. "… Jaune?"

He raised one hand. "Sorry, I'm… trying to process that this isn't your best," he said. "Also there's parts of me that are sore that I didn't know could get sore."

"Ah…"

A slightly awkward silence fell upon them. Jaune began to wonder how they'd be getting back to Beacon. And when they'd be getting back to Beacon.

I mean, we beat the big bad monsters! Shouldn't they have sent… something? A Bullhead?

… wait.

He sat up.

"We forgot to get the relics."

----------

Another year.

Another initiation.

Another group of students. Another generation of heroes.

… and another set of teams to make. After doing this for as long as he had, Ozpin had found himself becoming… fond of this part of the process. Seeing where the pieces laid at the end of the day: which partnerships formed, and what nature they had. Who showed promise, who rose, who… didn't, and would require more work be done.

Ozpin believed that it was possible to teach someone to be a hero; to find and nurture the best parts of the human soul and create Huntsmen who would put themselves on the line and hold back the darkness that preyed upon mankind. It was, perhaps-

He sighed.

… It was, perhaps, one of a few things in which Stachys Vera and he could agree on.

"Something wrong?"

Trust Glynda to read his mood like a book. "No, my mind merely went to… unpleasant places," he told his closest friend. "Ones unfortunately close to home; the Vale Defence Forces."

He glanced up from the scroll laying flat on his desk. Glynda was sat across from him. The mention of the VDF made her raise an eyebrow.

"Really?" she asked, curious, "What made you think of them?"

Ozpin leaned back in his seat. "The Academies were founded under the principle that it was possible to teach people to be heroes; be they the ones who came to it naturally… or those who needed some tutoring to get there. In a way, the VDF works under the same principle; to turn ordinary people into a sword and shield against the darkness. And yet…"

He trailed off, but Glynda knew him well enough to know what he meant. And even if she didn't… the friction between both of Vale's most prestigious institutions was common knowledge.

"And yet," Glynda repeated, setting down her own tablet-sized scroll for a moment. She frowned. "It wouldn't be nearly so bad if not for the glory-hog they've put in charge."

"If only things were so simple…"

Ozpin paused. Above, the gears dutifully continued to turn.

"I fear General Stachys Vera's motivations are far less selfish, but all the worse for it," he spoke, "The VDF was as much her grandfather's child as her own father was; it was Zeleno Vera who fought for its creation and moulded it into what it is now. And the VDF has not –and might never– forget what he did for them, especially considering the way he passed away. Were we in Mistral, there would be a shrine dedicated to him in every barracks room."

He paused again. "No, Stachys Vera does not seek glory for the sake of glory. She seeks to prove to her grandfather's living legacy that she's worthy of it."

Glynda scoffed. "That woman is hardly a worthy successor to Zeleno," she pointed out, "a man you trusted enough to bring into to your inner circle. Twice."

Ozpin felt a smile creep in. "Zeleno was hardly the soldier he became when I first met him," he told Glynda, making the woman blink. His expression grew somber. "I can only hope his granddaughter follows his footsteps."

He shook his head. "Anyways… before we lose ourselves in the past, what do you think of the teams, Glynda?"

Glynda's eyes went back to the scroll she'd been working on. "Team Cardinal are perfect for one another," she noted dryly, "for all the worst reasons. Juniper has potential if they work on their… weakness and take advantage of their strengths. Ruby…"

Glynda sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "On one hand, the sisters get along fine and are clearly used to working together, even if Ruby Rose is… herself. On the other, Weiss Schnee and a disguised Blake Belladona."

"A most interesting partnership if there ever was one," Ozpin quipped. More seriously, he added, "And one with the potential to cross bridges that sorely need to be crossed."

"And with just as much potential to crash and burn," Glynda shot back, "How long can Blake keep her identity hidden? What will happen if Weiss discovers who and what she is before they can build trust?"

"We can hardly out Miss Belladona –or Beatica, as she's chosen to be known– to her own teammates," Ozpin pointed out, "we'll intervene if things get too out of hand, and help where we can, but… ultimately, this is a problem they'll have to resolve themselves."

Glynda huffed. "Which brings me to the other problem… your choice of leaders."

Ah. Yes, Ozpin imagined that Glynda would have… questions about that.

Best to push forwards. "Go on."

Glynda crossed her arms. "Cardin Winchester."

"Successfully led his team through the Emerald Forest and recovered their relics." At Glynda's raised eyebrow, Ozpin added, "More through luck and stubbornness than skill, I'll admit, and his leadership style can certainly use some work. Dove Bronzewing might've been a better choice, but…" A sigh. "Unfortunately, Mister Winchester's main weakness is that he'll never follow a plan not his own."

Ozpin sat back, looking up at the moving clockwork. "It was a choice between making a weak but functional team that we can hopefully teach to be better, or a dysfunctional team that might end up stronger."

"We'll have to focus on breaking them out of their bad habits, then," Glynda grumbled. She seemed to accept Ozpin's reasoning, however, as she then moved on to the next leader.

"Jaune Arc. He of the suspicious grades."

Ozpin suppressed a wince at Glynda's tone, his eyes still watching the clockwork move overhead. "Ah. Yes. Him."

Glynda's glare bored into Ozpin's skull. "I hope you don't expect me to believe that his papers are legitimate."

"…No." His lips quirked up into a smile. "That being said, Mister Arc's hardly the first student of dubious origin we have; Miss Baetica is here under a false identity, and Miss Valkyrie's and Mister Ren's skills are, as far as I can tell, entirely self-taught and their examination certificates come from a Huntsman in Mistral I've been unable to contact."

"And even disregarding our current class…" The smile widened minutely, and he shrugged. "The Branwens came to us from outside the Kingdoms, and for all his faults, even you can't call Qrow a bad Huntsman."

"Unlike his sister," Glynda pointed out.

Ozpin nodded, "Indeed. My point, however, remains: despite the laws, despite procedures, despite my own attempts at formalizing and organizing the process… we must accept the fact that the heroes we seek –that the people meant to become Huntsmen and Huntresses– can come from anywhere; from official schools, from the untamed wilds, from the Tournament arena, or from the meanest street in their Kingdom."

"The paperwork," he told Glynda, waving his hand over his desk as if to swipe something off, "is, and always has been, more for the sake of formality. Initiation is the true test, and Mister Arc kept his team intact and alive, despite being surrounded, and despite his own inexperience."

Glynda frowned; clearly unhappy at how Ozpin's reasoning clashed with her own idea of how the Academy should work. Thankfully, she kept her opinions quiet… for now, at least.

"Ruby Rose."

Quiet fell over the room.

Ozpin closed his eyes, and a familiar weight settled on his soul.

"Ruby Rose," he said, his voice almost a whisper, "the girl with silver eyes."

"'Silver eyes'," Glynda repeated, "You mentioned that before, when you convinced me that she could skip two years ahead to be here." Her tone lowered. "I tried looking it up on the CCTSNet. I tried looking for it in our own archives. Gods, I looked it up in Port's collection."

Ozpin's voice would've barely reached her ears. "And what did you find?"

"Nothing." Glynda's frustration was audible; Ozpin imagined a pout on her face. "Nothing at all. Not one record, not one story, not one myth… not even a rumour. Nothing." She paused. Uncertainty entered her voice. "Why?"

The weight that had settled over Ozpin's soul came crashing down upon him with a vengeance. Memory came with it; a host of people cloaked in every colour of the rainbow, unbound by the borders of kingdoms. Wielding powers not born from the soul, but from their blood and their minds.

A power which could heal the most damaged mind, bring the most disparate bands together, guide caravans across even the most inhospitable of wastelands, and spark hope within the bleakest, blackest pit of despair. A power which could even forge the darkness within mankind's heart into a weapon.

A power which was also a curse.

A people, secretive and insular, who were all too easy to blame when things went wrong.

Ozpin remembered more. Smoke towering into the sky. Flames that almost seemed to hunger for flesh. Mobs brought to hysterical fury.

He remembered the screams.

He remembered a host of people, cloaked in every colour of the rainbow, fleeing from those who had once been their friends and their neighbours, never to meet again.

"Because all that there once was, was destroyed," he told Glynda. "Some of it by others… and some by me."

Guilt came, and he greeted it like the old friend it was.

After a moment, he opened his eyes once more.

"Miss Rose took charge of her team during Initiation, despite her youth," he began, the change of subject so abrupt he saw Glynda blink. "She was able to capitalize on their abilities to save Juniper, and then devised a plan that killed a Giant Nevermore." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Furthermore… Putting either Miss Schnee or Miss Baetica in charge would only cause the friction between them to escalate at this point –their enmity might've been buried, but it's still there."

A sigh. "And while Miss Xiao-Long certainly has the maturity to lead, I suspect that most of her focus is on her sister's well-being, and I've seen that path play out before. She might neglect the other half of her team. She might coddle or dote on her sister enough to stifle her growth." Ozpin shook his head. "Miss Rose isn't without faults –I fully expect her to struggle the most with her responsibility, to make the most mistakes, and to bemoan the burden of leadership hardest of them all–… but Miss Schnee and Miss Baetica will listen to what she has to say without thinking it's some barb against them, and Miss Xiao-Long can support her without there being any fear of preventing her growth –and Ruby Rose might have the greatest potential for growth amongst our students."

Growth which, Ozpin feared, young Ruby Rose would need.

Glynda's silence was pointed. After a few moments, Ozpin accepted that his most loyal friend wasn't going to let him off that easily.

"A few words of advice, when teaching Miss Rose," Opzin began, now turning to look at Glynda. His words were almost mournful. "Against Grimm, she'll be unmatched. During combat practice against her peers, she'll excel, or flounder, or more likely both, from one moment to the next. Crowds of people will overwhelm her." Another sigh, and this time Ozpin let the regret enter his voice. "I'm sorry Glynda, but as much as I wish I could tell you more… I'm afraid I cannot. Some secrets only become more dangerous when you learn of them at the wrong time, and the story of the Silver Eyed is one of them."

Unsaid was that there were also some practical reasons against telling Glynda more… And another, less practical, but still important reason to do so. Ozpin's true curse was that, sometimes, the only thing he could do was keep a promise to people long, long dead.

Glynda Goodwitch held his gaze for a moment. Then another.

Her eyes closed. "This is not the first time you've had me work in the dark," she noted, not quite an accusation, "And it won't be the last."

"Unfortunately." Ozpin agreed, regretfully.

"Now, where were we…?"

----------

Ruby huddled underneath her cloak.

She hated crowds. Hate. Hate hate hate. So much hate. It wouldn't've been nearly as bad with medication, but the greasy, gummy tablets that deadened her sensitivity and made her feel like her brain had been stuffed with cotton took a little longer to take effect than all the rest of her medication and… and they'd been tired after a whole day in the Emerald Forest. That there'd be a ceremony after coming back to Beacon had entirely skipped Yang's mind and hers.

She tugged the hood around her ears to quiet the whispers and pretended not to notice the abstract nightmare bathed in crimson around her; deformed homunculi that spoke of insecurity, chained wrath looking to escape, grinning mouths with far too many teeth.

Blood-stained shadows that seethed at the mass of humanity around them with barely concealed disdain.

Icy blades that sprouted needles that threatened to skewer all around her.

A huddled, trembling knight, paper armour covered in hollow fantasies and dreams, bound by lies that were already frayed.

A towering idol of bronze. Invincible. Untouchable. Unreachable. Yearning. Yearning. Yearning.

A quiet. A silence. A calm. A stillness, waiting for the right moment. A vengeance long, long overdue.

A loud, sparking, thunderous storm, roaring and laughing as loud as she can to drown out the screams.

Ruby shuddered. She squeezed her eyes shut; breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out…

Ruby opened her eyes again, and the nightmare receded… in all places but one.

The man behind the curtain spoke.

Don'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlook.

"Jaune Arc, Lie Ren, Pyrrha Nikos, Nora Valkyrie… The four of you retrieved the white rook pieces. From this day forwards, you will work together as… Team Juniper."

Applause. Nora whooped and embraced Lie.

"Led by… Jaune Arc!"

Jaune gawked and stammered. Pyrrha tried to give her partner an encouraging punch on the shoulder… and knocked him over.

"Sorry!" Pyrrha hissed, the smile on her face painful as she shuffled over to pull Jaune back onto his feet.

The man behind the curtain cleared his throat. "And finally…"

Don'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlook.

The screen changed, and Ruby's heart began beating like a drum in her chest as she walked onto the stage with Yang, Weiss and Blake, pulling her cloak around her. Crimson flickered in and out of her vision, but the roaring fire of her sister was right beside her, and Ruby leaned into that presence, letting the flames lick at her. She was safe with Yang, always.

Yang had promised, Ruby trusted her, and that made it true.

"Blake Belladona, Ruby Rose, Weiss Schnee and Yang Xiao-Long… The four of you retrieved the white knight pieces. From this day forwards, you'll work together as… Team Ruby."

Ruby kept her gaze fixed forwards. The man behind the curtain was right there.

Don'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlook!

"Led by… Ruby Rose."

The world stopped. Ruby was dimly aware of Yang pulling her in against her side. In her head, a single thought emerged.

Fuck me.

----------

The clock ticked, and Velvet Scarlatina smoothed her skirt, fussed over her blouse, and tried her best not to fidget in her seat.

It's just an internship, she told herself, for the third time in an hour.

She made the mistake of glancing up. The lobby was large, but also intensely plain and generic in a way that could only be a deliberate statement. White, beige and silver dominated everything from the walls to the ceiling, to the minimalist decor, to the benches built around the four pillars that held up the floors above. The only splashes of colour were posters advertising military hardware; a Bullhead soaring over downtown vale, automated turrets standing sentinel on a fortified wall, and another –the biggest of them all– showing a Raptor fighter flying across beautiful blue sky.

The three linked diamonds of the Armacham Technology Corporation dominated the wall to Velvet's left, their slogan emblazed just below, Working for the future.

Velvet swallowed.

An internship with the biggest company in Vale. God's horns…

"Miss Scarlatina?"

Velvet straightened. The secretary at the desk –a young and pretty woman whose green hair had been tied into a bun– gestured at another human. Also young, wearing clothes that he must've thought made him look approachable –a creamy blue polo and slacks– but made him look like a civilian college student. The ID card he wore on a lanyard said he was from the HR department.

Velvet was suddenly very glad that she'd stopped Coco from accompanying her.

He smiled, but the expression lacked any real warmth. "If you could follow me, I'll get you to your interview."

----------

The clock ticked relentlessly, and Velvet Scarlatina tried her best not to squirm in the plush wing chair.

She'd been led by the polite and pleasant, but professionally distant man into the headquarters of the Armacham technology corporation. Past offices, down corridors, and through an atrium that had a replica of a big… device hanging from the ceiling. An octagonal prism with what looked like square glass wings extending from opposite sides, and a parabolic antenna on one end.

"Hannibal One," the HR man had told her when he caught her staring at it, and her eyes widened in recognition of the name, "Or, well, a model. The real one's probably still floating out there."

He didn't mention that the device –the artificial satellite– had also completely failed after leaving atmosphere. He'd led her to another waiting room deeper in the facility and just as bland as the first, assured her that her interviewer would arrive soon, and just… left her there.

It's just an internship, Velvet reminded herself, staring at the carpet, And ATC is the biggest company in Vale.

"Miss?"

Velvet looked up to see who had spoken. She'd expected the HR guy again, or maybe the person who would be the doing the actual interview.

Instead, she found herself gazing up at the mirrored surface of a pair of aviator sunglasses, and the security guard who wore them. He wore a flat-topped cap, a blue shirt with rolled up sleeves and the ATC logo on the shoulder, a heavy ballistics vest over that with some extra bits of armour, black pants tucked into shin-length boots, and knee pads.

For a brief moment, a pit opened up in Velvet's stomach, while the corner of her mind she tried the hardest to ignore began to protest at the unfairness of it all; wasn't ATC supposed to be the nice corporate giant? Had they also brought her all the way in her just so they could-?

"I'm here to escort you further inside."

The moment passed. Velvet tried her best not to sag with relief.

"S-sure," she said, standing up and hating how her voice stammered. Why couldn't she be as confident as she was around her team?

It was only after she'd begun following the security guard that she wondered why she'd need an escort.

----------

The clock ticked forwards mercilessly, and Velvet Scarlatina tried her best not to disappear into the sofa.

She'd been led deeper and deeper still into Armacham HQ. First, she'd gone through a security checkpoint –a metal detector and then something which looked disturbingly like an armoured box meant to contain an explosion. The guards manning it had made a brief show of inspecting Anesidora before the one escorting her had rolled his eyes and told them to give it back to her.

"There's enough automated turrets past here to hold a battalion off," he'd explained, when he'd given him a questioning look. More quietly, he'd added, "Plus, the doc might want to give it a look. Every little bit helps."

After that, an elevator that went down for a lot longer than Velvet was comfortable. Then there was a long, winding corridor through what Velvet suspected was where the real work of ATC was done; mostly closed offices hosting quiet conversations she dared not listen too hard to, but she also heard the distant sounds of machine shops and firing ranges. The decor was still aggressively bland, but there was a change in the atmosphere that sent ice down her spine.

I-it's an internship, she'd told herself, an internship with the biggest weapons manufacturer in Remnant. God's Horns where am I even going!?

Past the corridor, another checkpoint. This one had several armed and armoured guards protecting it on top of a metal detector and another of those armoured bomb-proof boxes (which was when the guards cheerfully told her that they were meant to detonate any explosives she might have hidden on her through inductive current) and beyond that, a thick, vault-like door made of dull matte steel. Hydraulics hissed as it opened, and Velvet was led through, and down another elevator, headed even deeper underground.

And now, here she was, Gods knew how many feet underground, sitting at a waiting area while someone was being verbally torn apart within the office she was presumably going to enter next.

The first voice spoke with such seething disdain Velvet wondered how Grimm didn't spontaneously manifest. "You fucking toad."

The second voice simpered. "N-now now, Harlan-."

"Quiet. I'm going to use small words so that you can understand. Terry found that our monitoring equipment was getting pretty chatty strange times. Kept trying to connect to places it couldn't reach. Wasn't even hard to catch and put a stop to it. Then we traced them back to one computer, and one login. Oh, you wiped the logs, but you didn't get rid of the greasy fingerprints you left all over the place when you did."

The other voice was trembling. "P-Please, Doctor Wade, you're mistaken. After all, you know that monitoring systems are required at all ATC-."

"Don't you dare come to me with that bullshit. I know the regs –I wrote them you dumb fucking bastard– and they say that nothing that happens here is to ever, ever, see daylight. If and when this building ever shuts down, we're to seal every room below ground level in fucking concrete. Do you understand that, Norton, or do I need to get the crayons and hand puppets?"

A defensive tone entered the second voice. "… You have no proof. Nothing about what you said points to me. Are you sure you don't have a leak in your department?"

"I am. I'm talking to that lard-brained whale right now. And if you want proof…"

The first voice lowered to a growl.

"Ruby's coming this weekend. Want me to ask her to get proof? You know she'd be happy to."

The silence was deafening. Then, a snort fill with more derision than Velvet had ever experienced, which was… something.

"Thought so. Get out of my sight."

The door flew open, and the single fattest man, human or faunus, that Velvet had ever seen came stumbling out; flabby and disgusting, with red hair and too much chin under his mouth, wearing jeans and an incredibly loud shirt. He paused when seeing Velvet and seemed almost about to say something when the owner of the over voice roared from inside the office.

"Maple, why can I still see your obese ass outside my door!? Out. Of. My. Sight!"

Norton Maple scurried away a lot faster than Velvet would've expected for someone so corpulent. For a moment, she just sat there, uncertainty gnawing at her chest. What had just happened? Was she supposed to hear all that?

Her ears twitched. She heard a chair being wheeled back inside the office. Footsteps on worn carpet. Grumbling. A human man stepped into the doorway; old enough that his hair was snow white. A faded blue sweater –worn over a long-sleeved white shirt– and a pair of black slacks hung from his thin frame. A moustache emphasized the downwards curl of his lips, and his eyes hid behind thick-framed, square glasses that glinted in the cold blue light.

Velvet recognized him, to her shock; the Harlan Wade who'd smiled in her parents wedding photos was almost unrecognizable.

He stared at Velvet, as if expecting her to bolt as well. Her pointed behind himself.

"In," he ground out.

Velvet hurried into his office, brushing past the man as she did. It was a big office, with enough room to have a pair of armchairs and coffee table to one side. A large, square scroll with a black, square frame was propped up on his desk, screen blanked out, and the walls were lined with bookshelves, filing cabinets and lockers. A long, tan trench coat and a gun belt with a massive handgun in its holster hung from a coat hanger, placed just close enough to be reached without moving from behind the desk

Velvet sat herself on one of the two chairs in front of the desk. Something about the room struck her as odd.

Harlan Wade shut the door, and slowly walked behind the desk to take the high-backed office chair there. He moved slowly and took a moment to get himself comfortable, leaning back in the office chair with his elbows on the armrests, fingers clasped together. All the while, he stared at her with an utterly blank expression.

Velvet swallowed. She did her best to smile.

"H-hello, my name is Velvet Scarlatina," she managed to force out, "I-It's…" Terrifying. "… Good to see you, Doctor Wade."

Harlan said nothing. The clock ticked forwards implacably. Velvet tried not to squirm.

She'd practiced interviews with the rest of CFVY all night yesterday, and even the most uncomfortable scenarios her team had thrown at her had nothing on this.

"Do you know why you're here, Velvet?"

The question came after what felt like an eternity. It almost seemed to come from nowhere; Harlan's blank expression didn't change a millimetre when he made it.

"I'm here for an interview," Velvet answered, "With… you." Apparently? "I'm a student at Beacon, so I've been looking for something part-time to-."

"Stop."

Velvet bit her lip. She felt a brief flash of anger at the interruption before she buried it.

Harlan took his time to speak again. His eyes left her for the first time since she'd arrived, focusing on the open scroll. Reaching out with his right hand, he pressed his thumb on the edge, and the screen lit up again. Velvet couldn't see what he was doing –the screen was opaque– but he seemed to be browsing something. He moved slowly and deliberately.

"Velvet Scarlatina," he began, "You sent an application for part-time work to ATC's CCTSNet address two weeks ago. The mail server caught it, scanned it, took it apart, ignored everything it was programmed to ignore, and then built a file for processing. A sorting algorithm picked up your file, read 'internship', 'part-time', and 'faunus', and kicked it over to the Company Inclusivity Program's server. That server looked at the file, stored it, set a timer to delete it in about a month, and went back to doing…" He shrugged. "Whatever else it was doing."

Harlan Wade paused. His fingers tapped a few keys in the holographic keyboard.

"At no point did anyone read your application," he noted, "It would've stayed buried until the timer ran out, or the CIP manager was told that we need to score some moral brownie points. Maybe someone on the board got drunk and called you lot a pack of animals."

The words were delivered with all the casualness of someone discussing the weather. "She'd dig around the files for a while and come up with yours. Photogenic, she'd think. Your file gets passed on to HR. They call you and offer you a part time job doing almost nothing in one of the offices." He leaned back. "Fetching documents and coffee for puffed-up pencil pushers, who may or may not try their luck with the faunus intern, unlocked aura or not. Just enough to say you're employed, but never enough for you to move up; heaven forbid you get a chance to do anything actually important here. At most… maybe they'd pick you out to put your face on a poster about how fucking inclusive this place is."

Harlan stopped. The flash of anger from before had come back, and Velvet had to work to push it down.

What was that!? Why are you telling me this you…!

Velvet stopped that line of thought. Why was Harlan Wade telling her this?

Is this some… some sort of test, to see if I'll blow up? But that doesn't make any sense; he wasn't explicitly racist, at worst he implied that others would've been in that scenario he laid out, but why…?

Velvet's ears twitched. She was going about this the wrong way.

If what he said is true…

"Then why am I here, Doctor Wade?" she asked.

A flicker of what might've been grudging approval crossed Harlan's face. "Because I stole your application from the server, and decided you might…" A pause. "Be useful, for something I have in mind. First reason: You're a Huntress," he said, bluntly, "in training, sure, but…"

His lips twitched. "Four Huntsmen in the world have any experience with what we're dealing with. One's a dusty bird-brained drunkard who's too fucking busy to pick up his scroll, the second is dead, the third's already had enough bullshit thrown at him for two lifetimes, and the fourth…" Harlan growled. "If she ever shows her face, she is only leaving this building as a corpse." He straightened out. "And none of them can go where you'll be headed."

Velvet swallowed. That had been… Um. Illuminating…?

"Aren't you a Huntsman?" she then blurted out; maybe she was pushing her luck, but… what if Harlan wanted her to ask questions?

"I'm old, my aura's shit, and after not discovering my Semblance over the past fifty years, I can say it's because I won't," Harlan shot back. "And, again, I can't go where I need someone to go. Which brings me to the second reason… that you're a Huntress in training."

Another twitch from Velvet's ears. Huh…?

Harlan stared into her eyes. "Beacon had their initiation today, and one of their new students is…"

A strange look came across the man.

"… Of interest." His hands flew across the keyboard, and he turned his scroll around, showing the very first frame of video. A steel room, with a metal table in the middle. A figure cloaked in red sat in front of it, a hood covering their face.

Sat opposite, was a woman in a lab coat.

"It's simpler to just show you."

The video played.

----------

Velvet would be getting no sleep that night.

In the morning, she'd be headed to ATC HQ once more.

[dalek-ix-writes-stuff]

Red Ruin - INTERVAL 02: FIRST ENCOUNTER (Part V)

"Holy-!"

Jaune didn't know why the creepy girl in red had decided to drop in and help him. Or, well, save him, if he was honest. Him, Pyrrha, Ren and Nora.

(Later, the idea that Ruby did save them, and that they all could've died if she hadn't arrived when she did would keep him up at night.)

She slammed down on the Nevermore like a lightning bolt, and then shot a bolt-action rifle into the monster as quickly as Pyrrha had worked her own gun-spear-thing. The Nevermore's screech (Grimm and Dust it was loud) sounded like it had been in genuine, real pain as it thrashed, throwing the girl in red off of its back before doing the one thing Jaune hadn't seen it do before: retreat. It spread its wings and jumped, clambering back up the tower to glare at the girl in red, who seemed to be quite happy to glare right back, long cape (or was it a cloak?) draped around her while she held a massive scythe-rifle-thing in her hands.

Wait, when did she get back on the bridge-?

Someone else was hurtling down the cliff. The Nevermore spotted them, reared up to-

Two shots rang out, close enough that it was hard to tell them apart. The first sent that person away from the Nevermore's beak, and the second sent a bullet right through it, nailing the monster's mouth shut.

Nailing it shu-… those aren't bullets. Nails? Gun that shoots giant nails? That's a thing?

The newcomer twisted in midair for a three-point landing, smoothly rising to her full height. "Hope you've got a new plan, Rubes!" she called out, punctuating her words with a short punch that made the gauntlets she wore shoot at the glowering Nevermore, which only succeeded in making it glare harder at them.

"I'm working on it!" Creepy Red called back, flashing backwards to dodge a torrent of feathers before raising her scythe-nail gun-thing to shoot at the Nevermore again. Beside Jaune, Pyrrha switched her spear into rife and added her own shots into the mix, briefly making the monster back off with a muffled noise of rage.

Jaune just kept himself behind his shield and wondered if he should've brought something besides Crocea Mors with him. Probably yes.

What the hell am I doing here?

"Hey!"

Jaune blinked. The creepy girl in red was talking to him. "Y-yeah?"

She opened her mouth, closed it, screwed her eyes shut and shook her head furiously.

"I-…" A pause, and then her scythe-nail gun-thing was spinning to block, and Pyrrha and him were hiding behind their shields, feathers falling around them like rain. The blonde newcomer simply put her hands up to cover her face and let the feathers break against her aura, her lilac eyes now glowing bright red.

"You and In-" the girl in red made a strangled noise, "You two, switch with Weiss and Blake!" A pause. "Tell them I have a new plan! Please?"

Pyrrha shot him a glance, and then leaned in to whisper, "They were the ones who dropped down behind the Death Stalker before they did."

Jaune blinked, again. Suddenly, the mental image he'd had of the battle had changed completely. Oh, and Weiss was helping…?

… Pyrrha was looking at him expectantly, and Jaune turned away to hide a blush. Right.

… Well, it's not like I can do much against something that flies with just a sword and shield. But against that scorpion- er, Death Stalker…

"Uh- Sure!" he called back towards Creepy Red Gi-.

"And I'm Ruby!" She snapped, "Ruby Rose!" She flailed in his direction. "Go!"

Jaune didn't need to be told twice.

----------

Now she wants us to switch?

The plan had gone off… pretty well, if Blake was being honest. Nora and Ren (mostly Nora) had been happy to have them, Weiss had frozen some of the Death Stalker's legs, Ren and she had kept it distracted, and Nora had gotten a few hits in with her hammer.

… Weiss had also almost frozen her a few times, and Blake had felt the heiress trip on Gambol shroud's ribbon at least once. And no matter how many times Nora hit the Death Stalker on the head, they just couldn't get past the armour.

Blake glanced towards Weiss. "We're going…?"

The heiress paused after casting another ice dust infused glyph at the Death Stalker, her rapier in a middle stance. She scowled, clearly wanting to find a reason not to, but either unable to find one.

"Fine," she forced out. And, too softly for anyone other than herself (and one hidden Faunus) to hear, she muttered, "Why are we following her?"

Blake pursed her lips and followed after Weiss, sliding underneath the Death Stalker where Weiss used her glyphs to propel herself over it, beyond the reach of its flailing, ice-covered stinger tail. Pyrrha Nikos tossed her own partner over the beast (much to Jaune Arc's surprise), vaulting after him with an ease that Blake had to put conscious effort not to stare at.

All the while, Blake couldn't help but wonder what Ruby was thinking. Irony of ironies…

----------

"Byeeee~! See ya soon!"

More quietly, Nora quipped at Ren, "Talk about a rough pairing…"

The boy shrugged. "Could be worse. Imagine Weiss Schnee with a Faunus."

Nora shuddered. "Oh, yeah. Brrrr!"

----------

The Nevermore's scream was muffled from its beak being nailed shut, but that only made it sound even angrier. Streams of huge, razor-sharp feathers rained all around them, forcing Yang to roll out of the way and her sister to dodge; sometimes in a blur of crimson petals, and sometimes just appearing somewhere else. Even with all the fire-dust buckshot and armour-piercing darts Yang and Ruby were firing at it, Yang could still see that the monster was healing itself.

Yang tried to keep herself calm whenever something went wrong –the last thing she wanted was for Ruby to panic– but she couldn't help but start feeling a little bit concerned right now.

"Any moment now, Ruby!"

"I've got it!" Yang could hear the vicious smile in Ruby's voice.

Footsteps. Weiss and Blake were running towards them, and a glance in their direction let Yang catch a glimpse of the running battle the other four would-be students were having with the Death Stalker.

"Blake, Weiss!" Ruby spun out of the way of an especially big feather, the Nevermore taking flight, rising up and into a slow orbit around the valley. "Slingshot!"

Weiss was the one to answer. "… What!?" she screeched, and Ruby briefly looked like she was about to scream.

Yang breathed.

You got this.

You got this.

Tell them what you mean.

You can do this, Ruby.

Ruby breathed.

"Blake," she spoke, eyes glowing with an excitement that was almost feverish, "Can you string Gambol Shroud between those pillars?" Another breath. "Weiss, how much Gravity Dust can you put into a glyph?"

The hidden Faunus blinked at the request. Weiss looked about to ask what that was meant to do. To Yang's eternal amusement, it clicked for both at the exact same time.

"… I can do that," Blake told them.

"If you intend to do what I think you are…?" Weiss bit her lip. "Enough. Hitting that Nevermore, though…"

Yang grinned. "Guess that's where I come in, huh?"

Ruby nodded, her grin widening as things began to click into place. "Yep! If you can get it close to that cliff over there-" she pointed, "I'll take care of the rest!"

"Got it. Catapult?"

"Catapult?" Weiss asked.

Ruby turned Crescent Rose's bolt's handle, closing the muzzle break's vents on one side, and opening them wide on the other. She swung the scythe behind herself as far as she could reach, the blade's tip pointed down and the shaft up at an angle.

Yang got into position, a few steps behind Ruby, walking as she turned to track the circling Nevermore. It struggled to open its beak, finally un-nailing it with an utterly furious screech before it rolled and turned towards them.

One heartbeat.

Another.

The Nevermore was committed to the dive. Claws reached out, wings spread, beak opening for a screa-

A pulse.

Yang moved. Her legs pushed her forwards; running by the first step, and then jumping by the second. Her next landed right on the hook of Crescent Rose.

Ruby squeezed the trigger and swung forwards as hard as she could; the acceleration was violent and Yang briefly wondered how Ruby could handle it when she was the one throwing her around. Briefly, because then the Nevermore was filling her vision.

A blast from Ember Celica sent Yang a handsbreadth away from its open beak, and another sent her crashing into the thing's skull. Her left hand caught the bony protrusion of the Grimm's bone mask, her feet swung around to plant themselves on the back of its neck, and Yang cocked her right arm back, fist clench and two shells of Fire Dust enhanced buckshot loaded in both chambers.

"Missed me again!" Yang crowed, before punching the Nevermore in its right eye.

[dalek-ix-writes-stuff]

Next couple of Red Ruin segments are pretty big.

[dalek-ix-writes-stuff]

Red Ruin - INTERVAL 02: FIRST ENCOUNTER (Part IV)

The girls didn't immediately spring into action; Blake and Weiss needed a few more details than just "jump down and help the two fighting the Death Stalker", and it wasn't like Ruby could just… put her plan into their heads.

"Uh, Nora's the with the revolver grenade launcher-hammer. Really loud."

Well, not without things going horribly wrong. She could give a… nudge, sort of, if she was gentle and careful and calm, but that had its own problems.

"Ren's her partner. Green outfit and machine-pistol hook-blades. He's trying to distract the Death Stalker long enough for Nora to get a hit in, but that bridge they're on doesn't give him much room."

And as unused as Ruby was at putting her plans to words, it was… surprisingly easy once she got going.

"Which is where you come in!"

"Let me guess: get behind the Death Stalker, keep it occupied, and then let… Nora crack that thing?"

"Uh, yep! Death Stalker armour can get really tough at that size. You need explosives, AP or high impact melee to get through. Freezing the joints is also a good idea."

She could get used to this, actually.

"You have a sniper ri-"

"Crescent Rose is a Super High Velocity Penetrator."

"… that thing. Whatever. Can't you crack that thing's skull from here?"

"Crescent Rose's stakes can go through, but they don't do enough damage on the other end."

"…Doesn't Armacham make a version of those things with a fire dust charge and a delayed fuse?"

"…Yes. They do. I, uh… I didn't bring any."

"I'm afraid to ask, but, why?"

"Because her Fire Dust privileges are suspended."

"That was two months ago, Yang!"

"Still suspended, Ruby."

Maybe. So long as she learned not to put her entire foot in her mouth. Or leave openings for certain older sisters to exploit.

"As fascinating as this is to watch as a single child, could we focus?"

"Y-yes. Anyways…"

----------

When in high-stress situations, the natural response is to tunnel vision. Focus on the threat directly ahead, or the task that needs to be done, blocking out every other distraction around you. This is to be expected; people who are distracted from the rampaging boarbatusk in front of them tend not to live very long, after all.

But there are situations where the noise behind you is what kills you, not the growling predator (or the angry foreigner with a sword) in front, and laser-like focus becomes your doom. Hence why, with training and experience, one can widen the 'tunnel', so to speak. Regain some more awareness of your surroundings; enough that one can react and be aware of what's going on, but not so much that you lose focus.

Pyrrha Nikos was the first to realize they're getting help, spotting two figures leap off the edge of the cliff, and onto one of the taller ruins. Lie Ren was the next one to do so, seeing Blake and Weiss hoping their way down the ruins. Nora saw what Ren was seeing and grinned as Team Monochrome (as Ruby rather insistently called them) got into position behind the Death Stalker.

----------

"Yang, fastball!"

----------

The first sign that Jaune got that he was getting reinforcements was when a red and black blur slammed into the back of the Giant Nevermore he was facing.

----------

"It looks like things are shaping up to be an… interesting year."

Ozpin could feel Glynda rolling her eyes. "The 'Invincible Girl', the Schnee heiress, a boy who acts like he's never even held his own sword before…" A scoff. "Interesting is certainly one way put it. And that's before you get to… her."

Ozpin didn't miss the shudder from Glynda. "You can't say she didn't make an impression," he said, almost to himself, "even if it wasn't as positive as we might've wished."

"Ruby Rose and her sister brawled up and down the length of Patch for half an hour," Glynda deadpanned. "And don't even get me started on how much of her luggage is medication." Glynda's tone softened and became all the harsher for it. "This is not the right place for her."

Ozpin's own voice didn't falter, although even he couldn't keep his emotions from tinting it. "I'm not sure if there is a right place for Miss Rose," he countered, "But if there is…"

On the screens Glynda and he were watching, the fight began to turn…

----------

"No plan survives contact with the enemy."

Ruby struggled to remember things beyond a certain point; the red haze of her condition had made true consciousness a long and difficultjourney, and the few memories of her childhood she did have were all the more precious for her. One of those was a lesson from Qrow; he'd quoted that, and then told Yang and her that people would usually quip it whenever any plan went wrong, as if mocking the idea of having one at all.

Those people, Qrow had told her, didn't know what the hell they were talking about.

Don't remember what the full quote was –some old Atlaesian General said it way before the Great War, and he said it in Atlaesian anyways– but the best way to understand what he meant was like this; imagine you're trying to win a fight in a single swing, or with only one bullet. Unless you're absolutely, completely, positively swear-on-your-soul certain_ that that's all you're gonna need, you'd be crazy to think that. So, you need more; multiple swings, multiple bullets, different kinds of both._

And the real trick; knowing where to use which.

The initial part of the plan went off exactly as Ruby expected. Blake and Weiss dropped right behind the Death Stalker. A slash from Gambol Shroud got the beast's attention, and a wave from Myrtenaster covered the leg joints in ice just as it turned to face them. It roared with Hate, and a volley of grenades from Nora (Ruby wished she'd gotten to know what her weapon's name was) sent it stumbling as it tried to react to the new threat.

Before the Nevermore could intervene, Yang threw her.

Ruby became a blur of crimson petals. The world seemed to be too slow and too fast at once; stretched by her own speed into a smear of colours. It was difficult to focus on anything besides what was directly in front of her, and even then, Ruby's vision was distorted.

So Ruby Rose closed her eyes.

After all, she'd never needed eyes to See.

Crimson unreality fills her mind's eye. She Sees the Quiet Vengeance and the Roaring Thunder, the Icy Blade and Bloody Shadow, frozen as they clash with the mass of ENEMY between them.

(Idly, Ruby noted that The Things which were and weren't Weiss and Blake didn't have nearly as many barbs and blades pointed at each other as before. Improvement!)

She Sees the Untouchable Idol standing like a breakwater against the larger ENEMY, and the Paper? Knight quivering and fluttering beside her.

(Ruby caught the difference. The Thing which was and wasn't Jaune Arc had to cling to The Thing that was and wasn't Pyrrha Nikos to stand, but it was standing. Hm. Hm.)

She Sees it all, feels the Roaring Fire's familiar warmth behind her (and also always, always with her) and focuses on the ENEMY she'd chosen to DIE.

Ruby willed herself forwards.

Faster.

Faster!

Faster!

(She wondered if she'd ever moved this fast.)

Faster!!

The faster she goes the deeper Crescent Rose's blade will tear into her Enemy. The deeper the wound she makes is the faster it will Die. The faster it Dies the sooner she can Kill more- tooclose!

The mass of petals and speed she'd become coalesces into a single point and suddenly Ruby's a lance of red and black, of flesh and steel and bone and Wrath. She'd miscalculated and turned back too early, or she'd flinched and slowed herself down out of reflex when the collision loomed too large, and even though Crescent Rose bites deep and the Nevermore's scream of pain is like music to her ears, the wound is that tiny bit too shallow or too small to be the killing blow she wants.

"Holy-!"

Ruby's faintly aware of Jaune almost stumbling back as she squeezes the trigger. Oxygen and aerosolized fuel ignite in the chamber and Crescent Rose roars her wrath, a 10mm spike driving deep into the Nevermore. Ruby's hands fly across the bolt, a touch of semblance and more making it move faster than any other action could've done, and Crescent Rose fires again.

But the blade's not deep enough, or the variable muzzle break's not set up right, or both, and the recoil pulls Crescent Rose out of the wound she made enough that the Nevermore's thrashing tosses Ruby and her weapon away.

Enormous black wings spread, and the Grimm screeched with hatred and pain as it took off; still too injured to truly fly, so instead the hop just brought it up to perch the roof of the tower.

Ruby falls. The world flashes crimson, and then she's not; now she was standing on the bridge, Crescent Rose in hand, glaring up at the Nevermore with just as much hated as the Grimm's own glowering gaze.

Ruby took a deep breath and planted Crescent Rose's bottom spike on the ground, letting the familiar presence of her sweetheart ground her as she Feltthe world around her. Blake and Weiss were still getting in each other's way, the Death Stalker hadn't been cracked open…

What went wrong, what went right, what can we do from here, what more do we need, what more can we try?

Ruby steadied herself, closed her eyes, and then her mind reached upwards to give the roaring flame that was and wasn't her sister a well-practiced nudge. Tiny, faint, not even the thought of a thought. You'd have to know what to feel beforehand to even know it was there, and only the most basic of ideas could be transmitted, one at a time; closer, away, me, you, yes, no. The mental equivalent of monosyllables.

Ruby felt her sister go from concern and impatience to shock, then confusion, and then a hearth-warm surge of pride that made Ruby smile; two months of practice had paid off.

That's my little sister.

Yang dropped from above, and Ruby Rose pushed forwards.

Next swing, next bullet, next plan.

[dalek-ix-writes-stuff]

Red Ruin - INTERVAL 02: FIRST ENCOUNTER (Part III)

“Well, did you ask her?” Yang found herself asking, desperately hoping she didn’t die from sheer irony.

Is it really irony? Dramatic Irony? Situational Irony?

…Don’t answer that Ruby.

“… Obviously not,” Weiss ground out, frustrated, “Ugh… Maybe a relative owned a Dust shop that was bought out by the SDC?” She frowned. “It’s… It wouldn’t be entirely out of the question, but it would be a little too convenient…”

Yang gave Weiss a Look.

“You’re going about it the wrong way,” she told Weiss, clasping her arms behind her head, “I mean, I get what you’re trying to do, but this isn’t something you can just solve on your own; it takes two.” A thought came to her. “And yeah, you could find out what the problem is on your own –hire some PI’s to go digging into Blake’s past, or do the work yourself. That sort of thing. But… well, I imagine she wouldn’t appreciate you going behind her back,” Yang warned her, “Doing that would definitely just make more problems in the long run.”

Weiss seemed unsure. “What if she doesn’t want to tell me?”

Yang shrugged. “Then that’s just a risk you’ll have to take,” she drawled, “And it’ll just mean you have to try again later.”

“Hmmm…”

Weiss… well, she didn’t look completely convinced, but Yang got the distinct impression that the heiress was thinking about what she’d told her.

“Fine, I’ll ask her,” she grumbled, “Later. Assuming we’re still alive.”

Yang allowed herself a pat on the back. Heiress successfully distracted and bull-headed move avoided; chalk up another win for Auntie Yang.

If she listened carefully, she could almost hear the faint sound of Ruby burying her face in her hands.

And now for Step Two-

There was a horrific cawing noise up ahead, followed by the tell-tale sounds of combat. Yang and Weiss paused for half a step, and then broke into a run, Blake not far behind. This time, thankfully, Ruby didn’t run ahead on her own.

----------

They deserve to die.

Yang had asked Ruby about that, long ago. Ruby had tried to explain it to her, but… well, she’d never been all that good at putting words to her thoughts, so to speak.

They ALL deserve to die.

Yang thought it was a reflex; the natural result of Ruby’s condition interacting with the Grimm, and Ruby was happy to let her sister believe that. After all, it was kinda true; the hateful, soulless creatures… well, they weren’t the sort of thing Ruby was happy to have within range of her condition if she could help it.

Kill them. Kill them all!

That being said, there were other things that could grind at Ruby in a similar way. Her condition opened her up to things most people wouldn’t even imagine; the disconnect that lies caused could be enough to drive her up the wall, some people were just loud in their minds, and others… Well, others should be thankful that Ruby knew that hurting people for what they thought of in the privacy of their minds was wrong.

(Really, they should be thanking Yang and Dad for teaching her that. Ruby had thought of telling her family this at some point, because she thought they deserved to know how amazing they were, but she hadn’t found a way to say “If not for you I’d have killed a lot of people by now” in a way that wasn’t horrible.)

But the Grimm… Ruby could stand to be in the same room as some truly terrible, awful people and hold back on the urge to cut them in half lengthwise, but the moment her mind caught a hint of Grimm, she just…

Ruby had to kill them. All of them. Everywhere. Something about the Grimm made the well inside her mind fill her with a murderous hatred. Something that made her feel like every moment not spent hunting them down to slaughter them all was a waste so great as to be agonizing.

For Ruby, the “why” was never in question. The Grimm deserve to die. They ALL deserve to die. She just… knew this, with a certainty that shocked everyone she told it to. And as especially horrible as the Grimm were to Look at and Feel, Ruby knew enough about her condition to know that it had nothing to do with this… inherent knowledge. It came from elsewhere, possibly someplace… closer? Deeper?

(In her fantasies, Ruby could sometimes –barely– imagine a world where she was normal. She couldn’t imagine a world where the thought of Grimm didn’t fill her with hate.)

Ruby looked down into the chasm. She was vaguely aware of the ruins there; a network of tall, stone towers linked together with bridges. The presence of Jaune, Pyrrha, Nora (loud loud loud loud) and Lie Ren was just barely on the edge of her consciousness.

The Giant Nevermore and Death Stalker the other four students-to-be were fighting were the focus of her attention.

They Deserve to Die.

They All Deserve to Die.

-warm crackling fire blazing bright-

Ruby was brought back by Yang putting a hand to her shoulder, her presence a blazing flame.

“You cool, Rubes?”

Ruby nodded, and leaned a little towards Yang. The inferno that was her sister should’ve turned Ruby to an ashen husk, but she found it comforting instead of terrifying; Yang had promised, after all, and even after all these years that promise still held.

“I’m good,” Ruby told her. She reached up, towards the hood of her cloak, and pulled it back, exposing shoulder-length red hair. “I’ll be better in a bit,” she added, unclipping Crescent Rose from the small of her back and making it unfurl; first into her rifle form, and then into her scythe form.

“Looks like they managed to ground it,” Blake said, crouched at the edge, “Might’ve worked out if the Death Stalker hadn’t joined in.”

Wess said nothing. Ruby felt her annoyance at the sight of Jaune, along with some bemusement at him leading the other three down below.

“Well, that’s good!”

Blake and Weiss looked at her.

“It means we get to kill it,” she chirped. “Let’s get down there; Blake and Weiss can help Nora and Lie with the Death Stalker.”

“How do you know their na-?”

“And Yang and me can help Jaune and Pyrrha with the Nevermore,” Ruby continued, “The Grimm have them surrounded, but if we split up, we can help surround them instead.”

Ruby smiled.

“Ready?”

[dalek-ix-writes-stuff]

Red Ruin - INTERVAL 02: FIRST ENCOUNTER (Part II)

Yang occasionally remembered the first time she met Harlan Wade. It had been shortly after Summer died; Dad had completely collapsed, Yang herself barely struggled to hold on, and Ruby had gone from an almost normal little sister to something else. In fact, it had been immediately after… Well, the incident with the beowolves.

Being that she was ten at the time, Yang hadn't been told exactly how Harlan Wade had come into their lives; only that Harlan Wade, Dad's and Qrow's and Summer's and Her old teacher from Beacon could help them. That he knew what was… What was happening to Ruby.

The former professor of Beacon Academy had invited them to his home. He first spoke to Dad, and whatever was said behind those closed doors had shaken Tai Xiao Long enough that he still didn't want to speak about it, although Yang could take a few guesses.

Then Harlan spoke with Yang.

Harlan Wade had stared down at her from across his desk, looked Yang in the eye, and, not caring that she was ten at the time, spoke of the things that had begun to happen since Summer died. The hysteria and terror at invisible monsters. The nightmares which would make Ruby scream in a way that made Yang’s blood turn into ice. The whispering that seemed to follow her little sister, speaking terrible things to those around her. The sense of something being horribly, horribly wrong…

Then, his voice cold and hard, he began to talk of everything that was yet to come. He spoke of nightmares being set loose in the waking world, of red-rimmed shadows tearing at wood, stone, concrete and metal as if it were nothing. He told her of Ruby looking at her as she would a monster, a thing born of her darkest thoughts and deepest fears and most hidden secrets. He told her that Tai and her would find their minds pulled in certain ways, that rage would come at them without warning, fear would sink it’s fangs harder, grief would drag them deeper and deeper…

He spoke to them like a prophet of legend, speaking with such an apocalyptic certainty that it was almost like he was remembering the future.

(Or, in this case, as if he were simply remembering. Again, Yang had a few theories.)

Harlan had asked Yang a question when he was done. Maybe it would’ve been a complicated question for other people, but for Yang it had been very simple.

“Are you going to take care of your sister?”

After all, there was only one answer.

And so, Harlan had told Yang how to best take care of her sister. She wouldn’t lie and say that some part of her hadn’t resented the man for telling her how to do what she was already doing, but she grew to appreciate the tools and advice he’d given her.

(It would be another lie to say that Yang didn’t like Dr. Wade himself, in a way. Oh, the man was an asshole through and through, but there was an honesty to dealing with him. He didn’t bullshit you, or coddle you, or try to convince you that everything would be fine. And yes, he kept more than his fair share of secrets, and Yang wasn’t stupid enough to believe that him coming into their lives had been a coincidence, but when it came to the things that Yang actually cared about, he’d been straight with her since day one.)

One of the things Harlan had taught her early was how to treat a close brush with Ruby Rose.

Step one: Distraction.

"You know," she drawled, "You look a lot taller on television, Ice Queen."

Weiss, who had been staring at the middle distance for a moment, blinked.

"… I beg your pardon?"

"Yeah," Yang continued, gleefully ignoring the tone of voice, "I kinda figured you’d be somewhere around here,” she gestured somewhere a couple centimeters over Weiss’s head, “and that’s with the heels, mind you.”

Weiss blinked again, and Yang could almost see the heiress’ train of thought being sent off a cliff. She counted down in her head. Five, four, three, two-

“I’m not- I’m not short!” Weiss snapped, “I am of perfectly average- where did that even come from?!”

“Just an observation, Ice Queen,” Yang drawled, in a tone of voice older sisters had perfected over generations to be the most annoying.

“And don’t call me Ice Queen.”

“Right, my mistake, Princess.”

Weiss straight-up glared at Yang for that one. Yang just smiled back; she was pretty sure Weiss could scatter people with a look, but she’d grown up around Ruby Rose.

Weiss kept up the intimidation for a little longer, and then slumped in defeat, turning away.

She muttered something under her breath.

“Hm?” Yang went, “You said something?”

Weiss gave a sharp exhale of breath; a noise equal parts frustration and exasperation. “I said, at least it’s not “Schnee”,” she told Yang, voice flat, “I’ve had enough of that for today, thank you.”

“Oh.” Oh, right, Weiss and Blake’s little partner spa-

Wait.

Oh.

Oh.

Yang ruthlessly suppressed that from reaching her face, along with the urge to facepalm for not realizing that the moment Blake showed her her ears.

“Yes, 'Oh',” Weiss said, with more than a little bitterness in her voice, “I imagined I’d managed to outrun my name in Vale, but, apparently, I was wrong.”

The heiress sighed. “What bothers me is that I can’t seem to figure out why she’d be so angry with me,” she said, with such earnestness that Yang was shocked it didn’t cause her physical pain. Some of that must’ve shown, because then Weiss added, “And yes, I know my family has made more than its fair share of enemies along the way, but most of those are in Atlas.”

And the Faunus Quarter, Yang added, and Menagerie.

She wondered if this is what Ruby felt like when she had to keep one of her psychically-acquired secrets

[dalek-ix-writes-stuff]

Red Ruin - INTERVAL 02: FIRST ENCOUNTER (Part I)

Jaune Arc was way, way over his head.

He’d realized it now. Knew it, now that it was too late for him to do anything about it except grit his teeth and keep going; Jaune didn’t know what the punishment for cheating (he suppressed an internal wince at that word but there really wasn’t any other way to put it) your way into a Hunter Academy was, but if this was the entrance exam, he didn’t want to know.

“Everyone alright?” he called out. Well, it was more of a stage whisper, really.

“Yep!” Nora chirped, dusting off her clothes, “Ren’s fine too!” Nora provided.

Ren sighed, but nodded in agreement.

“I’m fine as well,” Pyrrha said reassuringly. Which was a lie, because whatever she’d done to unlock Jaune’s Aura had seriously exhausted the redhead’s own, judging from how she’d sagged immediately afterwards. Sure, she’d kept up her, frankly, amazing performance afterwards, but how long could she do that?

Aura’s the thing taking the hits for us and the thing that’s making us strong enough to hurt these things. In videogame terms, it’s AP and a shield bar all rolled into one thing.

Jaune wondered if there was a way to track someone’s aura. Because that would be incredibly useful right about now.

“Right,” Jaune said. “The Giant Deathstalker isn’t dead yet, but it’ll take some time to for it to get out of that.”

“That” was a pile of rubble. It had been one of the stone towers of the ruins, until a hammerblow from Nora had collapsed it on top of the scorpion-like Grimm. Jaune had come up with the idea in a panic, and had been almost struck speechless when it worked.

A murderous cawing noise, followed by a ruinous crash as another stone ruin was torn down, reminding Jaune of the other problem his quickly-growing list.

“Now, all we need to do is knock that bird monster-”

“Giant Nevermore,” Pyrrha corrected.

“-that Giant Nevermore,” Jaune continued, “out of the sky.”

Which definitely sounded simple enough. It was a big bird. It used wings to fly. No wings, no flying. No flying? Big bird is doomed. Easy peasy.

Except… well, it was a really big bird. A really big, really angry bird that wanted them for lunch. That also flew fast enough to make an Air Bus feel inadequate.

Jaune glanced at the others and- yep, they were looking at him. They didn’t look even slightly worried; hell, Nora looked like she was enjoying this, bouncing on her heels. And they were all looking at him as if they’d collectively decided that Jaune Arc was going to be their Plan Guy.

“Jaune?” Pyrrha prodded.

“I’m thinking,” he said, trying to sound reassuring and confident and all those things he really wasn’t right now. Almost against his will, his mind turned to yesterday. To those silver eyes that looked like they were staring right at his soul, and that creepy, whispering voice.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

Jaune’s grip tightened on the hilt of Crocea Mors.

“I’m going to bait that thing.”

He blinked. Had he actually just said that? Really?

“And when Mister Nevermore comes down, we all move in and wham!” Nora finished for him, miming a hammerblow with the hand not holding her hammer/grenade launcher. The orange-haired girl grinned. “Sounds like a plan to me~!”

Lie Ren just shrugged.

Pyrrha looked at Jaune in concern. “Giant Nevermores can use their feathers as weapons,” she told him, “And they’re not stupid; if it sees you out in the open on your own, it’ll get suspicious. Why risk an ambush if it can pummel you from the air?”

“That’s what this is for,” Jaune shot back, raising his collapsible shield, “That thing isn’t stupid, but…” He licked his lips, mouth suddenly feeling dry as the desert. “… it can get angry. And if I can get it angry enough to get down here…” He suppressed the urge to swallow.

“… Then we can spring an ambush,” Pyrrha finished. She closed her eyes for a moment, and sighed. “Fine,” she said, “But I’m coming with you.”

Jaune nodded. “Right,” he said, trying to hide his relief, “Okay. Thank you.”

Pyrrha’s mouth quirked, but she said nothing as she followed Jaune out of their hiding spot. He heard Nora cheerfully bid them good luck, and then they were alone. They moved carefully; the bridge wasn’t all that wide, and the Nevermore’s rampage couldn’t be doing any favors to the ancient ruin.

Jaune, in some remote part of his mind, knew that the ruins around him were objectively pretty impressive. The stone towers, though ancient, were still intact, rising up from the canyon and linked with stone bridges. Jaune could see the thinking that had gone into building them; The bridges only connected the whole complex to the cliff itself on a few spots, and the tops of the towers were high, high above the floor.

This place is all chokepoints. Good for defense, Jaune guessed, if the towers can hold. Or, maybe if… wait. No. Not important right now. Survive first.