[RWBY] RWBY Shorts

[SharkCultist]

Velvets family comes to beacon. It ended up going weird.

*Cardin is surrounded by a small horde of bunny and hare faunus. Most are femboys. The oldest is a fucking huge. All are muscular*

Big bun: so. This is the boy?

Velvet: y-yes?

Big Bun: you let him pull your ears? In front of everyone, and didn't fight back?

Velvet: yes....

Big bun: very well. The courtship is being considered, he must first pass the trial!

Cardin: courtship? Trial?

Big bun: we are prey species faunus. For you to be accepted you must know what it is to be prey.

Cardin: I don't like where this is going.

Big bun: therefore you will have a week where you must dodge our endless hunting. If we catch you-

Cardin: I die?

Big bun: you would wish for death.

Cardin: right, one question first. Hey what's that?!

*Points at the distance behind them then runs away. None of the rabbits looked.*

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The diplomatic dinner was a glittering facade, held in a grand Mistralian hall adorned with woven tapestries and glowing Dust lanterns, the air heavy with the scent of exotic spices and sea salt. Outside, the tropical night hummed, stars piercing the velvet sky. Diplomats and elites from across Remnant mingled, drank, connected and schemed.

On a secluded balcony overlooking the ocean, General James Ironwood and Sienna Khan stood more or less side by side, their wine glasses catching the moonlight. Ironwood's crisp Atlasian uniform gleamed, his prosthetic hand steady on the railing, while Sienna's flowing robes, edged with tiger stripes, rustled in the breeze, her golden eyes sharp but weary.

"It's been a while, Sienna," Ironwood said, his voice low, measured, the weight of years in his tone.

Sienna sipped her wine, her tiger ears twitching slightly. "It has, James. A very long while."

Silence fell, thick with history, the distant murmur of the dinner fading behind them.

"How is the Colonel's family?" Sienna asked, her tone mostly neutral save for the slight hitch at the end. This was never an easy topic, their former commanding officer.

Ironwood sipped his wine, his artificial arm tensing up noticeably before he answered.

"His wife is doing well, still running her flower shop. Their son is running a construction company, and their daughter is helping with the shop."

Sienna nodded slowly, her gaze not leaving the starry horizon.

"That's good. I sent flowers on the anniversary."

"I know, I had to deliver them."

"I can't very well deliver them myself," Sienna said, a bit wryly. Ironwood looked like he was about to say something cold, but he forced himself to hold back.

"No. I suppose you can't," Ironwood said softly.

They returned to staring out into the blackness of the ocean, the waves crashing against the rocky shore and the chatter of the party the only sounds around. Sienna, again, broke the silence.

"This wine," Sienna said quietly, "is terrible."

"It all tastes the same to me," James murmured. "I just drink it out of obligation."

"You never did care much for decorum like that in the old days," Sienna observed, glancing his way. James shrugged.

"The price you pay for ascending in rank," he said, "The lubricant of politics is liquor, money, and flattery."

Sienna smiled almost viciously.

"You were always philosophical. That hasn't changed."

Ironwood fixed his gaze on her for a moment, and shrugged.

"It helps with the burdens of command," he said.

"I suppose so," Sienna acknowledged quietly. Again, silence fell between the two.

Ironwood's jaw tightened, his blue eyes fixed on the horizon and the stars shining in the sky.

"You need to stop your attacks."

Sienna's gaze flicked to him, her voice cool but defensive. "What attacks—?"

"Sienna…" Ironwood's scowl cut through her words, his tone heavy with warning. "Don't."

She held his stare, then sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "…It's just for the purposes of gaining leverage."

Ironwood's grip on his glass tightened, his voice rising. "And you think you can put the genie back in the bottle? You think you can keep it under control?"

"We don't have a choice," Sienna snapped. "It's the only way to change things for the better!"

"I'm trying to change the system from inside !" Ironwood countered, his voice sharp, his human hand gesturing forcefully.

"And that won't work!" Sienna shot back, her eyes blazing. "You have to make too many compromises!"

"You'd prefer to burn everything to the ground, no matter how many people you end up killing?! Is that what the Major would want?!" Ironwood's voice rose, his prosthetic hand clenching the railing, metal creaking faintly.

"The Major died because of the system! You…!" She stared at his artificial arm, a hint of grief and guilt appearing in her eyes before she shook her head and continued.

"There's no other way to compel change!" Sienna hissed, her claws flexing around her glass.

They glared at each other, the air crackling with tension, their shared past a ghost between them. Slowly, they both un-tensed, Ironwood's shoulders easing, Sienna's ears stilling. They sipped their wine in unison, the bitterness mirroring the silence that fell, heavy and oppressive.

Sienna's voice was softer, almost wistful. "…You could have come with me."

Ironwood's eyes darkened, his tone flat but pained. "No. I couldn't. You made that clear. There are no humans in the White Fang."

Sienna's gaze dropped to her glass, her voice barely above a whisper. "…I would have made an exception for you."

"You can't have it both ways, Sienna," Ironwood said, his voice steady but laced with regret.

"And if I had come with you?" Sienna asked, her eyes flicking back to him, searching.

Ironwood's jaw tightened, his voice softer. His hand twitched, as though longing to reach out and touch her… But the gap was too great. "You wouldn't be a terrorist. We would have been forging real change—together."

Sienna's laugh was bitter, her ears flattening. "You're right. I am a terrorist. But we're making things change. Real change."

"Through fear, and hatred, and resentment," Ironwood said, his tone heavy, his eyes unyielding.

"Everything has a price," Sienna replied, her voice resolute but tinged with exhaustion.

"And how long before that price gets too high?" Ironwood pressed, his gaze piercing.

Sienna's eyes flickered, her voice a murmur. "…I don't know."

They fell silent again, sipping their wine, the bitterness lingering on their tongues. The ocean's
distant crash filled the void.

Ironwood's voice was low, almost a growl. "If we keep this up, Sienna… one day, I'll have to kill you. Or you'll have to kill me."

Sienna's breath hitched, her eyes meeting his. "…It doesn't have to come to that."

"You know better," Ironwood said, his voice heavy with inevitability.

Sienna sighed deeply, her gaze drifting to the stars. "…There was a time I would have given up everything for you. Was there a time like that for you?"

Ironwood's expression tightened, his prosthetic hand flexing. "…I can't answer that. And it's not fair to ask me that."

"No…" Sienna murmured, her voice soft, broken. "No, it isn't."

Silence fell once more, the weight of their choices a tangible force. From the hall, their subordinates watched—Winter Schnee, her posture rigid in her Atlasian uniform, and Adam Taurus, his horns glinting, his red eyes narrowed, not yet lost to his darker Path.

"What is your general trying to do to my leader?" Adam growled.

"I believe I could ask the same thing," Winter said, her blue eyes studying the scene intently. "They were on the same Atlas team together before she…"

Her eyes eyes widened in shocked realization. She couldn't help a slight smile. Adam scowled intently.

"What?"

Winter's voice was low, her ice-blue eyes sharp. "I see… They used to be together ."

Adam's jaw clenched, his voice a growl. "What? No! Sienna would never sully herself with—"

"A human?" Winter cut in, her smirk sharp as she sipped her wine.

Adam's glare sharpened. "…An Atlasian military commander."

Winter's smirk widened, her tone dry. "I suppose men are all the same, whether human or Faunus."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Adam demanded, his hand twitching toward his sword.

Winter's eyes glinted, her voice cool. "They cannot see what's right in front of them when a woman is in love."

Adam's scowl deepened, his voice a huff. "Hmph…"

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Been rewatching Ghost in the Shell: SAC. It's still amazing, one of the best animes ever made. But it did make me think about the possibilities of the scifi/fantasy police procedural in the world of Remnant. Now, naturally there are two problems:

1: RWBY wasn't written like that, it was more of a shonen battle school kind of anime which rarely has speculative fiction elements that explore the world itself.

2: CRWBY wasn't intelligent enough to write anything like that. Hell, I think an episode of GiTS:SAC would leave no impact on them-It would be like a dog barking at flashing lights. Or their heads would explode.

So here's three ideas for mysteries/speculative fiction ideas to explore in Remnant, that could be interesting. Concepts that might be possible in-universe. And could be part of plots for RWBY, JNPR, or others to solve. Heck, a good old fashioned noir PI story with Qrow could work too.

1: A person with an unregistered Semblance is able to transfer their age into others, to allow themselves to stay young-But the cost gets higher and higher as they get older. The Vale City police find a number of people who died of old age, despite being in their 20s and 30s according to their records. So the Vale PD (Perhaps their Specialist division for cases like this) is assigned to find who's committing these murders.

2: Healing Dust transfers Aura from one person to another to a limited extent, which helps with healing and improves people's lives. Black market and street level versions of Healing Dust is also manufactured, which is not up to the same standards but is something the poor and desperate would need. You could also use Healing Dust to target Aura at the brain's pleasure centers, causing euphoria-Essentially a drug. Poor quality Healing Dust can also transfer aspects of the soul to others-Memories in particular. Dust Junkies might get the memories of the user. Which has all sorts of possibilities for stories.

3: There is a terrorist group called the Aurae: They feel that those with powerful Auras have been blessed by the gods and are destined to rule over the rest of Remnant's population. That they are superior and deserve to be the rulers of mankind and faunus alike. They recruit powerful Aura users, often Hunters who were blacklisted, ex-Atlas Aura unlocked soldiers, criminals, bandits, etc. They are very survival of the fittest oriented, and tend to launch terrorist attacks to demonstrate the weakness of non-Aura empowered individuals. The Vytal Tournament has several potential targets over the course of the festival, so security would be tight. They might also be used by Cinder for her plans.

What do you think?

 

[SharkCultist]

...I have a evilly funny idea.

Whitley is pissed about Weiss running off to beacon and leaving him alone with the drunk and the dickhead.

So he decided to ruin it for her? Using capitalism.

Whitley buys his way into Atlas academy (for just the vytal festival), buys his way into a competing team and....

Whitley: ah, you must be my opponent a miss Take correct?.

Kate: my first name is Kate, and I'm gonna win this!

Whitley: cute, now how about you surrender and we can get on with our day?

Kate: why would I do that?

Whitley: I'm so glad you asked! I just purchased this lovely house in downtown Mistral. 322102 macha drive.

Kate: hey that's my house!

Whitney: was your house, but I would be happy to give it to you as a consolation prize for your loss, otherwise I'll be doing some redecorating soon. With firebombs.

Kate:...I give up.

Whitley: yes. You do. *Tosses her a scroll* the house is paid for the next decade and I already added a indoor pool and renovated the kitchen, enjoy that. Oh and your parents say hi.

*Whitley walks off fully prepared to make a mockery of sportsmanship for this entire trip*

 

[CountvonBarnOwl]

Ruby Reacts to Cursed Guns part 2

"AND WE ARE IN THE MIDDLE OF A CONVERSATION!" Jaune angrily shouted back at Team BRNZ.

"No Jaune, we're all in the middle of a battle. All of us." Pyrrha reminded him.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" As the television feed played inside of the SDC clearance sale tent, Ruby Rose laughed uproariously at her friend's plight, falling off of her chair and nearly spilling her ice cream.

"And that's the same Jaune Arc that struck out with Weiss seventeen times? Right?" Whitley Schnee asked from behind the cash register.

"Yeah. I mean... He's a good guy. I mean I wouldn't object if he started up a relationship with my big sister but... Where was I going with this? Oh yeah, he needs to work on his situational awareness." Ruby shrugged and shoveled another spoonful of cookie dough ice cream down her mouth. After making the strategic decision to bow out after the 4v4s, she had gone off to help Weiss' super cute brother/her new fellow gun enthusiast run the SDC tent. Well, he was still doing the selling. Ruby was off near the back of the tent being the clearance Sale's mascot. And Crescent rose had taken up a post next to his mother's chair, strategically propped so Ruby could bring his muzzle to bear, and she could introduce any would-be shoplifters or White Fang soldiers - although it looked as if they had chosen to be quiet for the festival, it seemed - to the latest iteration of the .50RSR, or 12.7x103 if you were from Atlas, which, incidentally the boy who helped her design the latest iteration of the cartridge, the one that had been on full display at the Vytal Festival, was.

Whitley had been thrilled to have her around while he worked. His longshot ad campaign had earned him a few harsh words from his father, and more (in a raised tone) for not reprimanding Ruby for all of the jokes at his expense. Followed by a short, even-toned summation of the positive effect that his viral video had had on both customer engagement and sale volume in the run-up to the festival. It was as close to a "well done" as Whitley had ever gotten from any of his close relations. So he quietly marked it off as a win and ended the call, privately noting.

In his mind, Ruby Rose hazardously altruistic, frighteningly naive, and concerningly innocent. But he couldn't bring himself begrudge in her any of those traits. Not when there was so much for them to talk about. Mostly involving guns and Dust, but they had been sharing other interests too, lately. Which was why it took very little convincing to get Ruby to agree to put on a swimsuit and appear at the tent. They couldn't have an event without a mascot, after all.

Of course the minute he showed her the garment, Ruby's face broke into a lascivious smile. She made a point of putting it on in front of him It looked amazing. It was a black one-piece, not unlike the swimsuits the Academies issued, but for the fact that it was shoulder-less, ending in two layers of red pleated ruffles, that strings held to a matching pair of puffy, pillowy long sleeves.

Whitley's blunt approach to marketing saw the stock clear like never before. It was hardly after three, and he only had a few crystals and vials left to clear. Turns out, a goth girl in a swimsuit and big heavy boots, carrying a scythe draws in all sorts of customers. From children who want to buy Dust from the pretty Huntress lady to boys his age and men worryingly beyond whose (suspected) intentions made Whitley feel the never-before-felt urge to go for the 'insurance policy' that he kept behind the counter.

"We interrupt this program to bring you this special report." The screen had started up again, the familiar voice of Lisa Lavender filling the tent. "The Vytal Festival has been delayed. I'm standing here in the commentator's booth where the disturbance has taken place. With me is Professor Peter Port of Beacon, who witnessed the event. Peter."

"Well, how do I put this... Barty decided that a two-day old burrito and about a dozen or so of the really spicy chicken tenders would be a good lunch. Of course, he washed it down with coffee, and now I believe he has come to regret that decision."

"Indeed he has, Professor. We here at VNN recorded audio of someone we may believe could have been the person that Professor Port alleged. Viewer discretion is advised, play the clip Verde." Only for her voice to continue playing without her mouth moving. "Of course it's a gross violation of privacy, but when has that ever stopped any journalist worth the name. Now for the last time, Verde, march your ass into that bathroom and bring me back something juicy. And I swear if you fuck up the audio cut again it will mean your job. Ta-taa." The newscaster's voice became more and more sickly-sweet with every word, while, paradoxically, the same newscaster's face darkened, and her scowl deepened on screen with every word.

Verde, the presumed cameraman, nudged a men's room door open with the microphone boom. And once the seal was broken, it broadcast what it had picked up.

"OH HOT HOT HOTHOTHOTHOT OHOHOH HOTOTHOTHOTHOT Ahh, Ahh, oh no, oh nononoHOTHOTHOTHOTHOT AAAAH WHYYYYYYY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH WHY MEEEHEHEEHEE??? Breaker, Brothers, Horned God, Flag, Anybody, I swear I'll stop sneaking artifacts out of your old temples to show off at my class or keep on display in my office, PLEHEHEEASSSSE make this pain go away. I MEAN IT THIS TIME. WAHAAAAAAA."

There was probably more, but that appeared to be the limit of Verde's tolerance for embarrassment or, more likely, his sense of smell if the... sloppy... that was the word that Whitley was going with, yes, very sloppy sounds that interspersed with the Beacon teacher's lamentations anything to go by.

Ruby, meanwhile, was laughing herself blue in the face. She was not the type to find very much humor in bodily functions, but what schoolgirl wouldn't laugh at her professor's expense.

The screen had cut back to Lisa Lavender, who was trying to straighten her now very ruined hair with her fingers, that all had conspicuously blood-caked knuckles. "Good afternoon Vale. I'm standing here with my camera now mounted on a tripod after my ex-cameraman Verde's ribs all mysteriously broke. It would appear that Doctor Oobleck will not be able to continue with his duties. However there has been a positive development. We'll ask Professor Port just what that development is now."

"I'm calling up a substitute." He replied.

And then Ruby's scroll went off.

"Hello." Ruby replied automatically.

"Miss Rose, come to the Announcer's booth immediately. You'll be taking over Barty's job effective immediately."

"What?!" Ruby shouted in the tent. "I can't color comment. My... My knees are too normal."

"You can if you want me to forget about that paper you turned in instead of your homework three weeks ago when I'm grading your final. You know, the one with all of the disparaging doodles. Especially since I don't think it's fair to call me 'Professor Poop' in light of today's events."

--------

"Okay, okay, I'll be right over. Sorry about the exhibit Whitley. Mwah." That had been the last thing everybody tuned into VNN to watch the Vytal Festival heard before Ruby remembered to hang up.

"Well it seems that the SDC Sweetheart of the Cute Goths and Cursed Guns Clearance Event will be making an unexpected re-entry into the Vytal Festival. We'll be back to your regularly scheduled programming when she arrives."

"I'm here, I'm here, I'm here." Ruby all but battered the door off its hinges with Crescent Rose. "I'd have gotten here faster, but, lady stilts." Ruby explained, clonking the long - though chunky - heels that formed the base of the knee-high patent leather goth girl shit kickers that she had gotten from a pair of friends, two of the vanishingly few she had outside of Beacon who heard that Ruby was crushing on a boy she was barely taller than. She switched into them when she went off to see Whitley at the SDC booth and ended up having to do a little meet-and-greet with more than a few of the small children who wanted the 'Funny Gun Lady's' autograph. Handing those out made her smile, and quietly thankful that they were all too young to understand a few of the things that she had said and done.

"So, Ruby Rose," Lisa Lavender started up, "what is your relationship with Whitley Schnee?"

"He's cute and he knows a lot about guns, he's great with Dust, he's my teammate's brother, and, fwah! No comment. No comment."

"You heard it here first Vale. Ruby Rose has the hots for Whitley Schnee." Lisa Lavender said into the camera as she took the sound of an unfolding sniper scythe behind her as a cue to leave.

Before Ruby could go charging after the reporter Professor Port put her in a hold. "Calm down Miss Rose. Your friends, Team SSSN will be going up next. Surely you'd prefer talking about their weapons to scalping TV personalities, right?"

"Scalping, what a lovely suggestion... I mean you're absolutely right, professor." Ruby said with a smile that was too wide to be anatomically correct.

"They'll be up against Team NDGO in a boys versus girls matchup in half rocky mesa, half pirate's cove terrain." Port continued.

"Right, I've only seen Sun's weapon before. Ruyi Bang and Jingu Bang are a pair of lever action shotgun-chucks. A chaotic weapon that guarantees a clear room once you've run through a drill. The flip-side is that you need insane control and precision to make it work. His can combine into a three-section staff for added reach, but that's pretty much all I know. So watching Team SSSN and Team NDGO bring all of their weapons to bear will be a learning experience for me too. And it looks like the weapons are coming out now. Sun's starting off with the staff I see. Scarlet next to him has drawn a cutlass and a flintlock. He's only got one shot before a cumbersome reload. The mental mathematics at play about where, and when, to fire to make the most of it should be interesting to watch, seeing that he has no choice but to make it a game-changer. Back to you Professor."

"An excellent summation Miss Rose. But it looks like Team NDGO has pulled Team SSSN into the rocky desert area. They've trained in Vacuo and know how best to use their Semblances accordingly. And before I even finish talking, Dew Gayl creates a trio of twisters with her spear and throws Sage Ayana out of bounds. An early elimination tilts the tables substantially in Team NDGO's favor. And it seems that a miscommunication has occurred between Sun Wukong and Neptune Vasilias. Octavia Ember moves to capitalize and... No, nothing of the sort. Neptune's gun creates room for a devastating counterattack. It's one to one for eliminations now. What do You think about that Miss Rose?" Port turned to Ruby, who was sitting in her chair, completely inert - and noticeably gobsmacked - at the sight before her. "Miss Rose? Miss Rose..."

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE?!?!" Ruby exploded to her feet, both hands out.

The burst of rage caught the whole stadium, and even brought the fight in the arena to a dead stop, with even the belligerents searching their positions, stances, and memories for what could have potentially set Ruby off.

But for those who Ruby was closest to, and those who had a decent modicum of firearm knowledge, the problem was obvious. And Ruby would like to imagine that the sight of the thing had been what had distracted Octavia.

Spoiler: The Cursed Gun of Team SSSN

"I'm going to be nice and not say anything about the barrel, because I assume the Dust and electromagnet array can compensate for that tiny, mini, itty-bitty shirmp barrel length you've got going on there. But I know that you or somebody that you've let borrow that weapon have used that thing as a carry-handle. Did- no Ruby, you just promised not to make any jokes about his accelerator array. So let's talk about how that thing feeds. The magazine is angled in the wrong fucking direction! At least I think so because I don't see where the chamber could be other than above the hinge. I hope for your sake that it is just an unfortunately shaped battery and that the gun you're holding works with pure directed energy and doesn't just linearize Dust. Because so help me if I find that there is some sort of small claw crane or autoloader like on an unmanned tank to extract solid-state ammunition and feed it into your chamber..."

Ruby inhaled, and then exhaled, and then inhaled, and then exhaled again.

"Alright Ruby, breathe, breathe. Just assume it is a directed energy weapon. There. Not so bad. The trigger is a fucking fingerprint scanner on your thumbhole stock which has NO GUARD and no geometry to let you know whether or not your fingers are where they need to be. It's just a smooth panel with an LED light that blends in with the grip. Up until today, I considered hair-triggers risky. WEISS!" Ruby abruptly turned the conversation on her teammate, picking up the microphone and pointing down where her team sat. "What is with your taste in men?! Do you really want a guy whose carbine goes off at the slightest touch? Just because we have Aura doesn't mean we can stop being serious about unintentional discharges. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it would be if you went in to wrap your arms around him and he popped? Just, right there. Let one loose. And he's got no barrel length to speak of so who knows where it's gonna go?"

--------

As Ruby ranted, a quarter of a world away, in a manse better fit to be called a palace, forty-three kilometers above the world, a man watched the Vytal Festival broadcast, and he schemed.

'Hmm, my heiress,' he mused for an instant on how tenuous that position was, 'has a taste in boys with blue hair in a peculiar style and no sense for firearms design.' Buying those, even he couldn't bear to call them weapons anymore. What had been a kind gesture to one of the movers and shakers of the highest strata of Atlesian politics, a kiss on the hand, had become the subject of the most successful ad campaign in the company's history. At the expense of his own image. He could buy and sell most of the Atlesian old money five or six times over, but Nicholas Schnee was an early Huntsman who saw how much money the MTC was raking in from Dust while doing escort missions for them, and decided that he wanted to be as wealthy as the people who were signing his paychecks. And with his passing, the Schnee name moved onto the second generation. Jacques - he had not been Jacques Gele in a long time - was even less, a Mantelian street rat who clawed his way up inch by bloody-fingered inch. So if he wanted connections, in his lifetime, the kind that would cement the Schnee name, he needed to play nice with the people already in. Dropping a contract on a small firm owned directly by a big name was as direct as an overture could be. But Jacques was no weapons expert. And it took the boy to say that the King of Vacuo had no clothes.

They had argued about it, of course, and the boy had even displayed a modicum of spine, trying to negotiate him up to signing off on a ten millimeter magnum battle rifle and a twelve gauge shot-pistol for every one of their security personnel. He eventually talked the boy down to an 8.6 - which could conceivably kill an Ursa, while being much less risky to fire in the mines, with an autopistol in Markhov once the boy impressed upon him the need for a supplement.

Of course there was still the matter of the keepers of the proverbial keys. An ancient family, an ancient, blue-haired family, an ancient, blue-haired, and predisposed to odd styles and bad guns family. He wondered if they had any sons Weiss' age.

He motioned to the mountain of cybernetics that stood silent among the armor displays. It was time to visit his progeny and discuss their futures. He might even let the boy keep his little flower.

--------

Ruby, of course, remained heedless to the machinations ongoing in Atlas, continued tearing into Neptune's weapon, "And that riser on that riser that you mounted your front sight on. You're not as bad as General Ironwood's pistol with the height over bore but what you've done is created a fixed sight set for indirect fire with what is possibly a pure directed energy weapon. So, we've got the magazine, possibly the feed, the whole gun itself when whatever you want to shoot is in your sights. Is everything with you just set at an angle? Again, Weiss, is this what it takes to impress you?"

After another minute or so of her protestations, Ruby calmed down, and the fight resumed, with the remains of Team SSSN pulling an easy victory because Team NDGO were still mostly laughing too hard to put up a fight.

Ruby would later be evicted from the commentator's booth lest her hot-blooded critiques of others' weapons delay the festival by a week.

--------
Epilogue - Later, the Fall of Vale
--------

This had not been the best week for Neptune Vasilias. First, Ruby Rose, of all people, had roasted him like a holiday ham in front of all of Remnant. Then everything went to pieces. It all started when Pyrrha Nikos killed Penny Polendina (who had actually been a robot) then somebody hacked the CCT network and ALL, that was to say ALL of Atlas' robots. And then the White Fang showed up again and let a bunch of Grimm into Vale and Beacon. And then he got Separated from his team and had to fight off a Paladin with some other students. But they were all older, so it worked out. Only for him to get separated again and then nearly crushed by a landing aircraft. And now he was agreeing to escort an old man in a white suit, and his black-cloaked bodyguard, to Ironwood's makeshift command post at the skydocks. The man had put his airship down elsewhere, in the interests of avoiding the crossfire, and was now demanding to be taken to his children.

"So who are we looking for, exactly?" Neptune asked. "Is it not obvious, my children, Weiss and Whitley Schnee." The man replied. "You're Weiss' dad?" Neptune asked. "Correct. And you're the boy who earned the ire of the best thing to happen to my marketing department since I took over the company."

'Damn it, Ruby!' Neptune thought to himself.

"And according to her, my daughter fancies you, doesn't she?" There was a trap in that sentence, Neptune knew it.

"Yes, sir." came Neptune's response, neutrally, and politely, to minimize his footprint.

"Goood." Jacques said, in a low tone that set off alarms in Neptune's head. 'WHERE DID I FUCK UP?!' He wondered.

"Fafnir, crush his balls."

'Wuh?" Neptune's legs were moving before even his subconscious could process what the man had said. And by the time it had they were putting up a pace with Ruby's Semblance. And by the time he heard the rumbling, static-y laughter, they were definitely outpacing her. Yet why did it sound like the laughter was getting louder...

'Obstacle cleared.' Jacques Schnee thought to himself before heading toward what he assumed to be Ironwood's makeshift command post. He had caught a glimpse of something on the fly-over, and though it had been years since he was last in Vale, he had enough of a mental map of the general area that he could reasonably find his way from Point A to Point B, or at least, from Point A to a place where he could easily find Point B. He drew his new gun from his coat pocket and started walking.

Fin

Lesson Learned. Maybe promising to deliver as early as Count did wasn't a good idea. Count promised the weekend but didn't want it hanging over him on Sunday. Only one cursed gun for Ruby to comment on this time but Count had to set the stage for her to take it on. That kind of ended up becoming the project in and of itself, and to my own chagrin I set out to fire off a few jokes and cleared the 3.4k word mark writing a story. Of course, because Count wanted this to still be comedy he had to start forcing laughs the cheap way.

Other events in the Cursed Guns-verse that Count might want to do? Writing them in my own time though. No more deadlines.

- Taiyang and Qrow's reaction to hearing Ruby kiss a boy on live TV

- Jacques meeting Ruby and it not going well for him considering that Fafnir is still chasing Neptune

- If and how Neptune escapes Fafnir

- If and how Lisa Lavender escapes Ruby now that Vale has collapsed and the rule of law doesn't really apply.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Fun random idea: How would Blake try to convince Katy of the gloriousness of Menagerie's cause?

Blake: "Menagerie is the homeland of all Faunus!

Katy: "Not mine."

Blake: "But why continue to serve humans?!"

Katy: "Um, my family doesn't. We're neighbors and friends. We own our farm."

Blake: "Only because humans gave it to you!"

Katy: "Uh, yeah. Because we were loyal retainers and knights."

Blake: "..."

Katy: "You do realize there were Faunus throughout history that lived out fairly stable lives, right? And were granted titles of nobility? When the Arcs were kings, we were Counts."

Blake: "Counts?"

Katy: "Like, we ruled Radian County on behalf of the Arcs when they were royalty."

Blake: "But why do you only own a farm now?!"

Katy: "Well, because my ancestors were about as good with money as the Arcs. And we usually sided with the Arcs and so, when their fortunes fell, so did ours."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Arjun and Saia had cleared out of the training yard. Isabel and Nick didn't know why... Until a certain member of Team STRQ barreled in.

Raven: "NICK ARC! FIGHT ME!"

Nick: "Okay!"

Isabel: "NO! Every time you two idiots fight, you fight for hours and have to go to the infirmary!"

Nick: "But Izzzyyyyy... Fighting her is cool!"

Isabel: "NO! Go fight Taiyang!"

Raven: "I already fought him! He's in the infirmary!"

Isabel: "Well go fight Qrow!"

Raven: "He and Summer ran away! FIGHT ME!"

Isabel: Sighs. "Fine, in that case, I'll fight you!" Turns to Nick. "Nick you act as the referee, and, no, you can't join in!"

Nick: "But Izzyyyyy!"

Isabel: "Not buts!"

Raven: "What? You're a medic! How much fun will you be to fight?"

Isabel: Nods. "That's right, I am a medic..." Gestures to the area surrounding them. ", but this isn't a field, it's an operating table, and I'm the Surgeon." Cracks knuckles.

Raven: Grins "Well well... That's quite a boast. Let's see if you can back it up!"

They had renovate the entire courtyard that day, but even still it ended with Isabelle's victory. The aftermath of which saw the majority of Isabel's clothes torn to pieces and ruined beyond recognition, and Raven nearly unconscious laying in the center of a massive crater, her opponents standing above her.

Isabel: "Haa... Haa... Haa... Haa... Back it up... Yourself... BITCH!"

Nick: "IZZY! THAT WAS SO COOL!"

Isabelle: Smiles, a slight blush dusting her cheeks. "Thanks Nick, now if you could help me-" It was at that moment that the remnants of Isabelle's clothes finally gave way.

Raven: "H-Hey! You can't ogle her! Ogle me! My boobs are way bigger!"

Nick: "Oh... Wow..."

Raven: "H-Hey! You can't ogle her! Ogle me! My boobs are way bigger!"

Isabel stomped on her face.

Isabel: "I'M A LATE BLOOMER DAMNIT!"

 

[LordofBones]

Fun random idea: How would Blake try to convince Katy of the gloriousness of Menagerie's cause?

Blake: "Menagerie is the homeland of all Faunus!

Click to shrink...

Katy: "Menagerie wasn't even a thing a century back. Did we all just pop out of thin air one day?"

Katy: "Not mine."

Blake: "But why continue to serve humans?!"

Katy: "Um, my family doesn't. We're neighbors and friends. We own our farm."

Click to shrink...

Katy: "I mean, other than when Jaune and me played Prince and Loyal Vassal..." *drools*

Blake: "Only because humans gave it to you!"

Click to shrink...

Katy: "Humans also gave you Menagerie."

Blake: "We won it in a war!"

Katy: "You won bumfuck nowhere in a war and proceeded to set up a glorified dictatorship. Remind me, how large is the Belladonna compound and how long has your family ruled?"

Katy: "You do realize there were Faunus throughout history that lived out fairly stable lives, right? And were granted titles of nobility? When the Arcs were kings, we were Counts."

Blake: "Counts?"

Katy: "Like, we ruled Radian County on behalf of the Arcs when they were royalty."

Click to shrink...

Katy: "Who taught you history, anyway?"

Blake: "History is racist!"

Blake: "But why do you only own a farm now?!"

Katy: "Well, because my ancestors were about as good with money as the Arcs. And we usually sided with the Arcs and so, when their fortunes fell, so did ours."

Click to shrink...

Katy: "Also, way to be classist, Your Highness."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Technical Profile: M-77AA Sky Drake Anti-Air Tank

• Type: Self Propelled Anti-Air/Anti-Personnel
• Manufacturer: Kalvis Motors
• Origin: Vale
• Role: Anti-aircraft defense, anti-Grimm operations, anti-personnel support, convoy protection
• First Deployment: Year 71 Post-Great War
• Cost: Moderate (cost-effective modular design, higher than M-77 Chimera due to advanced targeting systems)
• Dimensions (Adapted from M-77 Chimera):
  • Length: 7.5 meters (slightly longer than Chimera for radar integration, based on Sun Devil's 10.2m actual length)
  • Width: 3.5 meters (wider for stability)
  • Height: 3.0 meters (taller turret for autocannons)
  • Weight: 35,000 kg (heavier than Chimera due to turret and radar)
• Crew: 3 (driver, gunner, commander.
• Powerplant: Kalvis D-8 Combustion Dust Engine (700 horsepower)
• Performance:
  • Top Speed: 50 mph (80 km/h) on roads; 40 mph (64 km/h) off-road (slower than Chimera for turret stability)
  • Range: 350 miles (extendable to 450 miles with external Dust canisters)
  • Ground Clearance: 0.5 meters
• Armament:
  • Primary: 4 x Quad-Linked Winchester M-38 40mm Dust-Accelerated Autocannons (full-rotation turret, elevation to 70 degrees, Fire, Ice and Lightning Dust remote or sensor detonated rounds, 140 rounds/min, 600 rounds each, effective against Nevermores, Manta-class airships, and light Grimm hordes)
  • Secondary: 1 x Coaxial 7.62mm Machine Gun (Lightning Dust-enhanced, 2,000 rounds, for anti-personnel use)
• Defenses:
  • Composite armor (titanium-steel with Ceramic Dust plating, resistant to 25mm rounds and Grimm claws, lighter than Sun Devil's ceramic-titanium for mobility)
  • Anti-Grimm Sonic Emitters (75-meter radius, deters smaller Grimm, adapted from VDF airships)
  • Multi-use Grenade Launchers (Smoke, Ice Dust-based for concealment, etc, 8 canisters)
• Electronics:
  • Sky Drake Sensor Suite: Thermal, radar, Dust-signature detection; tracks up to 50 targets (air or ground).
  • Secure Comms Array: Encrypted links to VDF command, Huntsmen, and airships (e.g., Banshee, Nereids)
  • Terrain Mapping System: Real-time analysis.
• Special Features:
  • Full-Rotation Turret: 360-degree autocannon turret for rapid tracking of aerial threats.
  • Modular Chassis: Shares M-77 Chimera hull for cost-effective production, allowing field conversions to standard Chimera
  • All-Terrain Tracks: Optimized for Sanus' forests, Vacuo's dunes, Mistral's rugged terrain, and Menagerie's coastal islands
  • Dust Refueling System: External canisters for extended range in remote operations
  • Anti-Air Radar Package: Compact Wayland QR-33 radar dome for tracking aerial Grimm or airships.
• Variants:
  • Sky Drake-EA (Enhanced Anti-Air): Includes 8 x Redspot ASM-22 missiles for increased anti-air capacity

---

Background and Development
Kalvis Motors, Vale's leading vehicle manufacturer, designed the M-77AA Sky Drake to address the VDF's need for a modern mobile anti-air platform. Commissioned post-Mount Glenn disaster, the Sky Drake counters aerial Grimm (e.g., Nevermores, Griffons) and Atlas' advanced airships (e.g., Manta-class, AH-33 Eisenfaust), while supporting ground operations in Vale's territory.

Developed over three years, the Sky Drake uses the M-77 Chimera's modular chassis for cost efficiency, replacing the 120mm cannon with four quad-linked 40mm autocannons and a radar package. Tested in Forever Fall against Nevermores and in Vacuo's deserts against rogue airships, the Sky Drake proved effective at shredding aerial targets and light Grimm hordes. Its lighter armor (compared to Sun Devil's 66 tons) enhances mobility for Sanus' forests and islands, but it remains vulnerable to heavy anti-tank weapons. The Sky Drake's reliance on Vale's Dust supply is a risk, mitigated by Kalvis' local production. It's QR-33 Radar Tracking System gives it excellent accuracy against Grimm or airships.

The Sky Drake can engage Grimm Hordes in the air or ground, making them a very flexible and effective combat platform. It is actually produced in larger numbers than the Chimera MBT.

 

[SharkCultist]

Instead of being blackmailed by Cardin Jaune goes to Ozpin himself and tells him about his transcripts.

Oz: Ok? I'm not sure why you're telling me this.

Jaune: buh? But I lied and came into the school under false pretenses!

Oz: Mr.Arc let me tell you a secret. Everyone lies in their transcripts.

Jaune: huh?

*Ozpin pulls out some folders*

Oz: Yang xaio-long, underage drinking, destruction of property, speeding tickets. Ren and Nora, lied about their address because they're homeless. Ruby Rose, that one to be fair I did the doctoring on, it was easier than going through official channels to get her into the school. Not to mention the students that are former terrorist and counter terrorist, or bastards.

Jaune: even Cardin faked his transcripts?

Oz: yes. Not any of the class information but he did lie about his name.

Jaune: his name isn't cardin?

Oz: no it is, but his middle name isn't bruner. It's Leslie.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

I think it would be fun to write a short where a Hunter is brought in and does one of those "Expert comments on Scenes in a Movie" video. Like this:


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CtWqv0Z3ErM

It might be fun to flesh out the older characters, though being me, I would use many of my own OCs.

"No, you don't attack an S-Rank Grimm all alone. Not unless you have a death wish. You will just get killed 99 out of 100 times. Better to withdraw, get the locals to evacuate, and call in backup. Preferably the military with air strikes and artillery."

Oobleck as an archaeologist and research Huntsman, Port for how they hunted back in the day (And he's actually super serious in such an interview). Qrow for modern work. They would be fun. And my OCs too:

Port: "Sticky Dust charges can be useful but against S-Rank Class Grimm, it's basically total desperation. If you have no other choice. And engaging an S-Rank Grimm on your own is suicide 99 out of 100 times. In cases where I encountered an A-Rank or higher? We'd withdraw, evacuate the local village, and call in backup. There is plenty of honor to be had sharing it with other fighters if you kill such a monster-None if you are dead. So yes, it's a fun old movie, but in real life? He would be dead. 99 Times over."

Qrow: "Listen... Truth is, I'm not always drunk. I never get drunk on an op. You cannot afford to be drunk when lives are on the line. But acting like I'm drunk can be very useful. There are some Semblances where you can get more powerful while drinking liquor but everyone who had that? Tended to die young."

Isabel Arc: "Ohhh boy... This scene." sighs "Regenerating limbs with Medical Dust is, at this point in time, impossible. You can reattach limbs and heal them back together if you get them soon enough, but not regenerate. It's possible you could do it with a Semblance but so far we don't know of anyone with such a Semblance."

Nick Arc: "What?! How is he-Okay, this is a fun movie but this is not how you fight with a sword. There's a dozen openings in both of these guys' stances and neither of them is taking advantage of it? Also they move so slowly. It's really boring!"

Rufus Winchester: "Ugh... Look. I get that in a movie you need obstacles for the hero to get through. And the Hunter Captain who doesn't believe them and takes away their license is required in movies like this. But I think if you'd blown up a few Dust transports and set fire to a city block, maybe the Hunter Captain has a point? I was a Hunter Captain before I went into politics: If any of the Hunters under my command did this? I'd toss them in jail!"