Fandom Distorted Mirror [IC]

[MyrtenRose]

There was no mistaking the slightly rounder aspect the Dragon's eyes took on at his initial tone, her demeanor pricking up a bit in alarm. Stranger still was how that instinctive response fizzled out to her slinking forward in apparent boredom with weight on the steering wheel again, letting her eyes lid and her lower lip curl into a bratty, come-hither pout as she blew a lock of hair from her face, watching the window fog up and absently tracing hearts in the glass with her finger.

"Mmmmm... I wish for a billion wishes," she murmured dreamily, in equal parts a husky purr of seduction and dangerously provocative testing of his patience as she not only opted against providing the explanation he requested but also seemingly against so much as sparing him another glance. The mock cold shoulder was clearly deliberate, no apparent reservations on the Dragon's part about making it known when she felt underappreciated.

"Is that an invitation?" He asked not of the words she murmured themselves, but the way she said it, the expression on her face, the body language she was giving and the hearts she was tracing on the window. It would have been wrong to describe his reply as flirty, if such a word could still describe anything he said anymore, but there was still a faint curiosity ringing in his question. He didn't seem to be objecting to any of it, at the very least. Not the seduction, the attempt to provoke, the dodging of any elaboration on Atlas. In truth he was not against the idea, the love of (one) of his lives had also been an attractive blonde.​

Thankfully, the information he sought did come, if from another angle.

"Lord Ozpin."

There, stepping through to the cockpit from the back of the ship as casually and unconcernedly as if he hadn't quite literally strolled through a sea of cots occupied by some of his most vicious enemies to get there, Carnelian bowed his head as he took one knee, no chance of masking the deferential regard in his tone even if he wanted to.

"It's a privilege to finally behold you in person. Consider me an admirer, and the kingdom of Atlas once more at your disposal. James Ironwood sends his regards."

He lifted his head, and once again no effort was made to disguise his feelings as his cybernetic optics zoomed in on the hunched, deformed Lionheart where he stood, a crinkle of obvious amusement playing on the corners of his lips.

"You'll understand why he decided against attending this meeting personally. I, on the other hand, prefer to conduct my business face to face, and he assures me he'll do anything in his power to avoid unnecessary war between our great nations. You might be thinking, 'heard that one before'." A derisive snort escaped his lips, aimed at Weiss's back where his former associate was doing a stellar job of disregarding his entire existence.

"So having lived in the man's head, allow me to certify you won't have to worry about him toeing the line. Consider the Schnee whelp a token of our fidelity. And if you're ever harboring doubts as to anyone under your banner's loyalty again, it might interest you to know my semblance makes it highly difficult to keep a secret from me."

His grin was earnest and grandfatherly in all the same ways it was sinister and vicious, a puzzling juxtaposition that somehow seemed completely at home on his aged, dusty face.

"Ah." This, the man's appearance alone explained much, and the words the general spoke filled in for a lot more. That information took even Ozpin by surprise, enough so that a flash of that surprise crossed his face. Carnelian, James Ironwood and by extension, Atlas itself, in the fold? That...changed things. Significantly. Another laugh escaped him. "Salem's most trusted abandon her one after another..." That did bring a smile to his face. In this particular case, he didn't even have to lift a finger to accomplish it. This went beyond expectations... "Dragon." He stated firmly to draw her out of her uninterested attitude. "You claimed you arranged this. I was utterly serious in my declaration. Anything you want, anything in my power to give, I will do so. Loyalty and victory such as this shall never go unrewarded." He turned back to Carnelian. "The pleasure is mine, and the token is appreciated. But...there is one thing. What of the relic?" He didn't get the chance to hear an answer just yet, however.​

"My first thought is that sounds like almost as colossal a waste of time as one of these unsolicited anecdotes of yours. Try to remember not everyone shares your immortal sense of patience, yes? Also, I'm answering your question with a question."

A lesser woman might have asked for permission or forgiveness for doing so. Weiss just stated her intent, calm, clear, and laser focused as she finally lifted her eyes to his, and when she did speak her question she kept it equally as concise.

"How does it feel to be dead?"

She stared, expectant. The moment their gazes met, Ozpin could practically see the conviction ignite in those eyes like twin barrels of kerosene; a purpose that verged on divine or unhinged depending on how this played out. Weiss hadn't simply offered herself on a suicide run. For her, this was everything. This was the moment. The one everything else in her life had simply been a prelude to. The royal test, the final rung on the ladder, whatever you wanted to call it. This was what validated everything Weiss Schnee had chosen to be.

"I don't just mean what happens when you close your eyes and stop breathing. I mean gone. I'm asking how it feels to be the last echo of a buried civilization. How it feels knowing entire generations are going to live, flourish and die without ever knowing your name, your purpose, any of it, and by the time the final thought of you slips away from the last Grimm to bother acknowledging they ever served a master in the first place there won't be a trace of your legacy to be found in all four corners of Remnant. All those years, all those lifetimes, and you wasted them. Every single one of those delightful yarns, reduced to vapor. Because your time is up. How does it feel to know that, Ozma? How does it feel to be a ghost?"

It was the culmination of years of planning, but it was so much more than that. This, in short, was the source of all her headaches. This was the day she had spent every waking moment thinking about.

For months.

SNAP

If any in the room yet operated under the misconception that any cuffs in the equation were anything more than ornamental, or she was here by anyone's volition other than her own, then the fact that she snapped the pair tethering her wrists as cleanly and effortlessly as snapping off an icicle must have been illuminating. The link clattered to the floor in a hail of ice shavings, Weiss's eyes exploding with a clashing display of lights, no apparent concern given for the ship full of quite literally terrifying killers at her shoulders.

"Be sure to let me know."

Unlike just now with the emergence of Carnelian and the revelation about James and Atlas, there was no surprise on Ozpin's face at all. Truth be told, he had expected such a move from Weiss from the moment she looked at him here. If anything, the fact that it took this long was the surprising bit. There was no worry on his face, just a simple smile. Yet one that managed to be both more terrifyingly dangerous to witness than any of the grimm hybrid Cinder's dark smug looks and simultaneously carried as much excitement as any of Nora Valkyrie's exuberant grins. He stood tall, looking down with undisguised interest. "You presume a lot, Councilwoman Schnee. Some would say too much. My time is up, is it? Tch." He shook his head. "Salem said that to me, once. The crocodile faunus. Countless others. They were all wrong too." His smile widened. "You want to know what being dead feels like? What it means to be a ghost?"

Ozpin stepped back, walking backwards on the air itself until he ended up standing atop his grimm creation once more, recognizing the small and constricted confines of the airship was not the spot for such a battle. Atop the grimm, in the skies, that was much more suitable an arena. He bid Lionheart and the other two to back off as he gestured for the maiden councilwoman to come.

"You will learn firsthand." ​

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

As chaos was beginning to brew within the confines of the warehouse, a foul wind blew across the area. Windows trembled in their frames, doors shuttered and slammed. The man behind the Bound Ashes and behind a majority of Mistral's influence as a whole wasn't just one person. But rather three personalities all vying for influence among eachother, each believing that they were one of the Boss's most trusted comrade/friend. When at the crux of it all, the mysterious enigma known to most of his minions as 'The Boss' cared only for the everlasting continuation of his rule over Mistral. Anything that stood in the way of that was to be eliminated without question. Tyrian Callows and his rogue band of petty little grievances were but the most recent example. Sometimes running an organization as powerful as the Ashes meant making tough decisions.

Appeasing the murderous personality within your fractured subconscious was one of those decisions.

"To think that all of this has spiraled out to the degree it has over...one....animal." 'The Boss' murmured softly but not to himself. Aurora and 'Jack' could hear him just fine as he watched over the warehouse from a nearby rooftop. Jack's disguise of a grey overcoat with bandages masking his features hiding him away left him feeling disgusted. "Had I my way, she'd have been tossed out among the other filth. Left in the sewers where all of the rest of the trash goes. But I suppose...leeway must be given here and there." The longer this dragged out the more his identity was at risk. If any of the miserable little miscreants, traitors, and animals discovered that he and the 'Mistral Murderer' were one in the same. It could unravel decades years of work. All of the blood, sweat, and tears he'd wrung out of Mistral to stood where he did among the rest of the refuse, it'd all be for naught.

"I refuse that reality." He stated simply as he glanced down at the front of the warehouse. The steel door had been lowered as the others had let themselves in. Likely scoping around for any clues, traces, on the potential whereabouts of the Mistral Murderer. Standing outside were Blanche and Char-men who would have normally been of no consequence to the Boss-but given where their loyalties seemed to be resting at the current moment. If the 'Null Zone' was activated and this unruly disguise shredded apart....

Char was a problem that needed to be corrected.

Down on the ground, Char and Blanche listened to the sounds of battle inside the warehouse. Tapping his fist on the door, Blanche chuckled. "Well, I guess it can't be all bad, huh? Those kids could have made us fight too." Char didn't seem as amused. "...I dunno. I was kinda bummed they didn't let Pinky come along." "...Pinky?" "Yeah, you know. The dumb kid who don't talk." "Ahhh....She knocked you out right-" "NO. She didn't....her friends did."

"I got knocked out by some kinda street bum."

"It's all relative."

If they strained their ears, and if it wasn't so windy, they might've heard a faint giggle come from above them.

Neopolitan sat on the roof the warehouse, legs cross and arms resting on either side of her with Hush laying at her side. Despite whatever bit of silliness she was gleaning from the dynamic duo below, her stomach was a knot of anxiety as she drummed her fingers rapidly against the roof, the sensation doing its best to drown out the muffled sounds of violence coming from below. whoever or whatever had led her friends inside this building had apparently purposefully chosen one with no other good entrances; it was solid metal almost all the way around, and the vents she'd found had been pre-covered and welded shut. She'd been following at a distance, obviously. No matter how good Merc and Em were, there wasn't anyone on Remnant who was going to see Neo on the tail if she didn't want to be. Even now, a small dome of illusion covered her little perch, leaving the image of an empty roof where she sat.

But she'd been following from too much of a distance. She'd seen the doors slam shut, Blanche and Char try the doors, and decided to do her own reconnaissance on the roof to no avail, and had just been moving back to the front when the sounds of combat started to echo.

Her friends were fighting, and she wasn't there.

'I wasn't there last time either'

She tried not to think about how her breaths were getting faster, or how she could see the edges of her semblance begin to flicker. In fact she just squeezed her eyes shut entirely. It was fine. Emerald and Mercury could take care of themselves. They didn't need her like Roman had.

'But what if they do?'

Well it didn't matter if they did, did it?! She was on the wrong side of an armored building! So unless she had something that could blow through a tank, she was stuck on the wrong side of the-

Her slowly growing hyperventilating stopped, and her eyes cracked open and surreptitiously glanced towards the parasol lying at her side. The surprisingly heavy dust rounds safely stored in their dampening holster on her back pockets felt even heavier.

...

She heaved out a sigh and shook rapidly shook her head a few times before slapping both her cheeks thrice. No. No way. There was no way that was safe! She'd have no way of knowing who was on the other side of the wall she was blasting! She was definitely not doing that.

Unless they didn't come out in the next five minutes, in which case she was absolutely just gonna do it anyways. She huffed again and opened her eyes back up, and spent a good couple seconds staring blankly ahead trying to process that she was no longer the only wierdo waiting on the rooftops.

A particularly loud wind slammed against the door and caused the two to stumble back. "Geez...If our damn scrolls worked we'd be able to check the weather report or something." Blanche complained before it slowly dawned on them. The weather outside had been fine just a moment ago. It was dark out sure but it felt relatively fine. No signs of rain or anything of the sort. But what had that scorpion kid said? 'When I fought the killer...there was lots of wind.' Char and Blanche turned their heads and standing in between them was a towering figure, his chest heaving up and down.

"I-It's the the-"

"Killer!"

The killer lashed out with a wave of his left arm. The sudden updraft took Blanche up, up, up and away. Far away to the point he landed atop a car parked down the street. Without so much as wasting a second he turned on Char who was fumbling to bring out Riot Breaker. "Char." The murderer spoke calmly. "Why don't you go and activate your semblance?" He asked as he turned to stand over the hitman. "W-What?"

"Go on. Activate it. I want to see if you can."

Char couldn't really explain the feeling surging within him. It was the same kind of stomach churning feeling that only popped up when Aurora gave them bad news or if the Boss had sent them a message. Before he knew it, he'd broken out into something of a cold sweat. His hair was a mess and Riot Breaker clattered atop the concrete. He stumbled back and the killer got closer. "You can't can you? No....It's just as I thought. You need unbroken concentration in order to focus and activate it. But it'd be a challenge for any man to stand bravely, let alone defiantly, in the face of impending death." His boots quietly plodded along the ground. "Rest assured, Char, your death IS inevitable. No matter how long it takes us to reach it."

Char wasn't just scared. He was downright terrified.

This task had grown too important to leave up to a lunatic like Jack. Thus, it was up to none other than the Boss himself as a torrent of wind encircled his left arm. He pulled the limb back and thrust it forward seemingly planning on trying to punch a hole straight through his former subordinate.

'Die and take with you your utter weakness!' ​

There was the sound of boots hitting concrete

Char felt something slam into him, and the Boss saw his fist go straight through Char's sternum.

Then Char shattered like glass, and the boss heard the sound of boots again, well to his left



Neo skidded to a halt with a heave of effort, the much larger Char looped over her shoulder like a potato sack, but she didn't stop moving; she pivoted in such a way that she faced the boss for a moment, threw up a peace sign over a winking eye as she stuck out her tongue, and vanished back around the corner of the warehouse.

Or so it seemed, the real Neo clamping a hand over Char's mouth as she very slowly backpedalled away from the fleeing illusion clone to see if the Boss gave chase

 

[MidwayLives]

There was the sound of boots hitting concrete

The Boss paid it little mind.

Char on the other hand was having his entire life flash before his eyes. It didn't matter what his fight with Pinky had proved. When push came to shove he was little more than a coward. Just a small blot that was going to be erased by this mysterious murderer. One who provoked such feelings of absolute dread in him that he couldn't even raise his sword let alone activate his semblance. Blanche's status was unknown to him but across the street, blood ran down the crushed in hood of the car Blanche had fallen onto from above. His arms splayed out to the sides. Char couldn't even find any words to use to try and beg for his life. He simply gasped like a fish who'd fallen onto dry land.

"Perish!"

The Boss's fist struck, clearing Char's aura, and punching straight through-
​

Char felt something slam into him, and the Boss saw his fist go straight through Char's sternum.

Then Char shattered like glass, and the boss heard the sound of boots again, well to his left

"What?!"

That wasn't any ability of the Hitman Team. So, who could have-
​

Neo skidded to a halt with a heave of effort, the much larger Char looped over her shoulder like a potato sack, but she didn't stop moving; she pivoted in such a way that she faced the boss for a moment, threw up a peace sign over a winking eye as she stuck out her tongue, and vanished back around the corner of the warehouse.

The Boss's eyes met Neo's and for a second or two she felt nothing but pure and seemingly endless hatred wafting off him.

As her and Char seemingly disappeared around the corner, he paused for a moment or two.

"....Ah."

His chest rose and fell. It was clear despite his calm demeanor, that little interruption had only angered him further.

"Aurora told me of a mute child who'd been accompanying Black's spawn. It seems she thinks this is little more than a game."

The winds began to intensify, the windows continued to rattle in their frame, any unsecured doors slammed shut. It was as though nature itself was howling.

"Child! If you're out there..." He called out to address Neo. "There isn't a single place you can hide from me. Or find anyone willing to help you against me. Mistral is me and I'm it..." The headlights from the car Blanche had fallen on flashed illuminating the Boss's disguised figure with a orange gleam. Not unlike the glow that Roman had as the faintest vestiges of his semblance appeared and petered out while he took his final breaths in Neo's arms. "Twenty years of strength, capital, and influence got me to where I am today. That won't be undone by...by...your little band of miserable toddlers."

Windows started to crack as the winds reached a fever pitch. Blanche's car started to rock back and forth, it's wheels slamming onto the ground with great vigor. All while he continued to lay atop it unmoving. "Do you think those.....animals..." He spat with such disgust that you might have been confused whether he meant feral cats or dogs or the Shadow Fang "...Operate without so much as a care in the world? No. Nothing happens in Mistral without my knowledge."

*CRASH*

Glass shattered and Neo felt Char practically shaking in her grasp. Even as glass shards began to rain down beside them, his eyes were locked forward.

"So...when I see a mere child....stand in my way...?"

The Boss's feet left solid ground and he began to float upwards as he kicked off the ground.

Char pulled Neo's hand away from his mouth. "Kid! You've gotta get out of here! Now! This is someone you don't ever want to fight!" He hissed through gritted teeth. Rising to his feet, Char felt a cold wind blow down past the nape of his neck and the bottom of his shirt rustled in the wind before it settled against his skin. The Hitman Team had long theorized whatever semblance the Boss might have had. It had to have been something crazy like maybe skipping time or freezing it. But with how fast he'd closed the distance between where he'd been standing and where Char and Neo had paused to hide, Char felt as though he were a little rabbit being eyed by a ravenous wolf. He felt the Boss's bandaged up hand grip around his neck and close around his throat. The founder of the Bound Ashes who'd stepped out onto the field to protect his own interests stared down the diminutive huntress.

"I get rid of it."

It. Meant to dehumanize and disregard not only Neo's life but those who threatened him and the power he held as Mistral's man behind the scenes. With a quick finger flick upwards from his freehand, a sudden updraft hit Neo from below knocking her into the air and from there Neo could have barely made out the wind hissing past The Boss's fingers as he whipped his hand forward to send Neo rocketing away from him. Char could barely speak he was so scared. But he didn't want to see anything happen to Pinky. "Run, kid...RUN!" ​

 

[MidwayLives]

Nora’s head had lifted up to observe all the others when Raven began to address them all and her eyes narrowed after Neo’s response, her own glare just as dark as Yang’s if not more so. “Why is she even here?

Neo would have normally ignored Nora's glare but then she started talking.

Her own eyes narrowed and she folded her arms across her chest.

Wasn't like she'd planned to be stuck here.
​

She’s the one who got Winter...” The ginger didn’t say the actual word, couldn’t yet manage to, as if not saying it helped.

"...!"

Neo started shaking her head.

No, no, no that wasn't-
​

“Just because she has no weapon doesn’t mean she’s not dangerous. Who knows what is actually going on in between those ears, what she plans to do. For all we know this could just be a scheme to get to the relic and steal it away. She helped bring down Beacon back home, participated in the attack on Haven here...why should we trust her?”

*slam*

Neo swung her fist down against the wall.

She hadn't intended for Schnee to...That wasn't how it was supposed to go.

All she wanted was the relic so she could go home.

Just go home and be miserable there.
​

 

[Gus Gungus]

"Is that an invitation?" He asked not of the words she murmured themselves, but the way she said it, the expression on her face, the body language she was giving and the hearts she was tracing on the window. It would have been wrong to describe his reply as flirty, if such a word could still describe anything he said anymore, but there was still a faint curiosity ringing in his question. He didn't seem to be objecting to any of it, at the very least. Not the seduction, the attempt to provoke, the dodging of any elaboration on Atlas. In truth he was not against the idea, the love of (one) of his lives had also been an attractive blonde.

"You taking it as one?" She shot right back with a crooked, devilish grin, crimson eyes gleaming with something that might've veered just a little bit too close to challenging for Ozpin to let slide under normal circumstances. Whatever thrill the adrenaline rush of doing so prompted seemed to wake her up a bit, an exhilarated shiver creeping down her spine in time with her heady giggle.

"Ah." This, the man's appearance alone explained much, and the words the general spoke filled in for a lot more. That information took even Ozpin by surprise, enough so that a flash of that surprise crossed his face. Carnelian, James Ironwood and by extension, Atlas itself, in the fold? That...changed things. Significantly. Another laugh escaped him. "Salem's most trusted abandon her one after another..." That did bring a smile to his face. In this particular case, he didn't even have to lift a finger to accomplish it. This went beyond expectations... "Dragon." He stated firmly to draw her out of her uninterested attitude. "You claimed you arranged this. I was utterly serious in my declaration. Anything you want, anything in my power to give, I will do so. Loyalty and victory such as this shall never go unrewarded." He turned back to Carnelian. "The pleasure is mine, and the token is appreciated. But...there is one thing. What of the relic?" He didn't get the chance to hear an answer just yet, however.

It was merciful for all involved that there was way too much going on for them to continue down that road, and she contented herself with a wistful sigh for now as she rolled her eyes again and slouched back further in her seat.

"Gueeeeeeess I gotta think of something, then. Meh."

Her look of total complacency faltered somewhat at the mention of the relic, but again before things could escalate further...

Unlike just now with the emergence of Carnelian and the revelation about James and Atlas, there was no surprise on Ozpin's face at all. Truth be told, he had expected such a move from Weiss from the moment she looked at him here. If anything, the fact that it took this long was the surprising bit. There was no worry on his face, just a simple smile. Yet one that managed to be both more terrifyingly dangerous to witness than any of the grimm hybrid Cinder's dark smug looks and simultaneously carried as much excitement as any of Nora Valkyrie's exuberant grins. He stood tall, looking down with undisguised interest. "You presume a lot, Councilwoman Schn-"

"Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah." Weiss unceremoniously interrupted, taking a page out of the most annoying, ridiculous and impossible to refute book she knew in Nora Valkyrie's to properly convey just how disinterested she was in hearing anything else Ozpin had to say. She stood up, turned on her heel so briskly her ponytail cut a 90-degree angle through the air, and walked out of the cockpit without giving him a chance to finish, showing no fear of Carnelian, Blake, or any Talon she had to glare icicles at until they stood aside to let her pass. Or were removed.



"Did that just happen? Wait, so I should definitely land on the whale, right?"

"How the f*@k should I know?"​

 

[MyrtenRose]

"You taking it as one?" She shot right back with a crooked, devilish grin, crimson eyes gleaming with something that might've veered just a little bit too close to challenging for Ozpin to let slide under normal circumstances. Whatever thrill the adrenaline rush of doing so prompted seemed to wake her up a bit, an exhilarated shiver creeping down her spine in time with her heady giggle.

"This whale has some pretty fine private rooms inside, you should know. If you so desire we could arrange to meet there afterward." The man, if he could even be called that anymore, balked at nothing.

Spoiler

“Yes.” He added in response to Yang’s other question of landing upon the grimm whale, patiently waiting for both that and for Weiss to disembark, no sign that her immature Nora-esque words had bothered him in the slightest.​

 

[Gus Gungus]

While Mercury and Emerald asked for a sitrep/explanation of just what the hell the group had gotten themselves into, a third figure apart from the two members of the Hitman Team and the Serial Killer Catching Squad(gotta think of a better name...)moved quietly around the crates trying to approach the duo before things got too hectic. Dressed like a jester with dirty blonde hair poking out from behind the clown mask that hung loosely over his face with the thinnest of strings holding it in place, he tiptoed across the floor and quietly went about removing the glove on his left hand, his delicate fingers twitching and bending as he continued to close the distance. Once he felt he was finally close enough...he pounced!

*THWAP*

"And now some creepy mime thinks he can sneak up on me." Mercury concluded, every bit as lost as when he started as he peered through the darkness at wherever the bare hand ended up getting snagged with a contemplative tap of the chin. Huh.

"Maybe don't—"

Blanco couldn't quite make things out too well in the warehouse but the man's clown mask was just festive enough to be spotted. It didn't take long before the dots started to connect for the gangster. "Tyrian! Get away from him! He's one of the Boss's Elite Guards!" He shouted but it was too late. The man had used his teeth to pull the glove off his other hand and reached out to touch the part of Tyrian's tail that still looked organic.

"—you know what, T, never mind."

Guinea pig stratagem it was, then. Pros: probably funny. Cons: almost everything else about it.

*THWACK*

The mask was knocked off and sent fluttering to the ground with a light *skritch* as Tyrian's tail unwound and recoiled. The man's eyes widened as he was thrown back and landed on the cold tiled floor a few inches away from Tyrian. "For an 'elite', he sure ate that punch-" The man's face had been revealed after the punch but as he slowly sat up and smiled at Tyrian, the faunus realized something. He hadn't even see the guy's aura shimmer after that punch. It was at that point, Emerald, Mercury, Blanco, and Callie could have seen Tyrian's aura shimmer and the left side of his face cave in as if he'd gotten slugged pretty good. He was knocked to the floor and immediately clutched at his face. "O-Ow?! What the hell just hit me?!"

It would've been fair of Tyrian to expect compassion, sympathy or support from his good friend Mercury from Beacon. What he got was none of those things.



"HA! Yeah, see, I knew something dumb was gonna happen, man. Semblances. Trippy, right?"

God he wished he still had his so much.

Watching from up above, Violet sneered. She hated the fact that this creep had to come along with them at all. Every one of the Boss's Elite made her skin crawl. Merc's dad likely wouldn't have been an exception but the guy was too much of a prick to even give the Hitman Team the time of day. "I think we've watched enough, Vanile. Let's get down there!" Vaulting over the railing and hopping down atop a crate, Vanile followed suit landing down on the floor. No point in wasting any more time talking shop. They weren't here to make friends or hold a dialogue. They were here to get their two dipshits back. Violet aimed her pistols at Emerald and steam began to emit from Vanile's legs as she burst forward with a kick aimed for Mercury's midsection.

Ghastly having recovered just fine once more attempted to try and sneak up on another unsuspecting victim: Callie this time~

Emerald, always one to favor the slip-into-the-background approach to these things, had been conspicuous in her silence since shit started getting real; but let it never be said this thief didn't know how to operate in the dark. The echoing thump of Violet's landing caught her notice, and in the same moment the enforcer aimed her guns Emerald's way she was leveling both revolver-sickles right back with breezy confidence that belied the tensity of the standoff they suddenly found themselves in.

"Oh, honey, you best point those tacky little discount shooters someplace else."

From the perspective of the hitman team duo, this must've almost seemed too easy. The targets in their sights may have been Marcus Black's son and an associate, but by all accounts they were a pair of self-absorbed teenage dirtbags more intent on nattering and doing their witty little snark routine than taking the fight on their hands seriously. The fact that Mercury just shrugged his shoulders when Vanile confronted him only served to reinforce that theory, as did the fact that rather than take any kind of evasive action when she sprang his way his sole reaction was to flash a debonair smirk, stretch out—



And meet steel with steel in a jumping spin-kick that shook the warehouse right down to its foundation as the two boots collided, the gunshot and shell casing it ejected helping nullify Vanile's momentum. They both went sliding back on their heels regardless, Mercury's kicking up sparks along the floor as he disappeared into the cloud of dust they unsettled.

As a rule of thumb, Merc liked to keep the fact that his dad had semblance blueballed him for keeps under wraps. Not out of any particular sense of embarrassment; nine times out of ten it was just easier to let the guy trying to hit him assume he had that extra wild card in play, make 'em agonize over whether it was something he did with his hands or legs or if he was gonna start shooting lasers from his eyes any second or what. Most people's first instinct was to take it as a weakness, and he could hardly blame them. But they were wrong. Mercury Black hadn't become so good despite his lack of semblance.

He was as good as he was because of it.

Big a bastard as daddy Black was, he had been onto something. Not having one meant his form couldn't afford to be mediocre. It meant he couldn't pull any punches or whiff any kicks, or put anything less than everything into every strike. It made every fight an uphill struggle; a video game on the highest difficulty. Everything about the rock-solid, airtight technical warrior he had become was the product of many, many trial-and-error engagements with opponents packing a secret weapon he lacked. For him, there was no secret weapon. He had to be the weapon.



None of which explained why he was leaning nonchalantly up against the support pillar he'd been driven into when the dust cleared, arms folded and an expression of whimsical contemplation occupying his face.

"See, now this is disappointing. I was under the impression we were gonna be throwing down with some big, bad serial killer type, so why can't I shake this feeling we're stuck fighting two... mmhhh... Em, help me out? What's the word I'm looking for. First letter M, last letter K, printed in bold across these two's foreheads?"

Emerald didn't answer. She hadn't said anything at all since her and Violet commenced their impasse, in fact, which was the sole clue the hitman got before she felt a cold barrel press against the back of her head and had to process that concurrently with the sight of the Emerald standing in front of her melting away into the shadows, along with the coy voice of the very much tangible one behind her infiltrating her ears.



"'Mooks'."

BANG​

 

[MyrtenRose]

Neo would have normally ignored Nora's glare but then she started talking.

Her own eyes narrowed and she folded her arms across her chest.

Wasn't like she'd planned to be stuck here.


"...!"

Neo started shaking her head.

No, no, no that wasn't-


*slam*

Neo swung her fist down against the wall.

She hadn't intended for Schnee to...That wasn't how it was supposed to go.

All she wanted was the relic so she could go home.

Just go home and be miserable there.
​

“Oh, what, the little murderer angry now?” Nora scoffed. “Good. You should be! Maybe you should have thought of that before, huh? Before you let those killers out! And for what?! You really telling me Miss Can Disguise Herself As Like Anyone needed a distraction to escape? Really?” Nora spat with a harsh scowl, intense feelings of anger and guilt beyond evident in her words.​

 

[Gus Gungus]

"This whale has some pretty fine private rooms inside, you should know. If you so desire we could arrange to meet there afterward."

"Well, thank you for that charming mental image I'll never be able to erase. And to think, for the last few months certain people have toiled and labored trying to get me to accept you're 'more' than just a man. As if I'm being wilfully obtuse or something."

Weiss sneered, her voice now flagrant in its airiness, contempt, and even open mockery as it buffeted Ozpin along with the rising winds from where she appeared atop the Manta, primly stepping into view holding something concealed under a cloth veil.

"No, Ozma. I've just been watching you a bit more closely than most people care to. And do you know what I see?"

If nothing else, it was a far cry from how the ancient sorcerer was accustomed to being addressed, and further still from the servile, deferential tones Weiss had always treated him with in the past; but there was far more than simple mocking disdain in the multicolored eyes that narrowed down at him as she stood at the front of the fuselage, planted her heels, and threw aside the veil to reveal Myrtenaster in all its opulent glory.

Channeled through those eyes was more abject disgust, loathing and outright revulsion than she had ever looked at any Grimm with. This, everything she was doing, was no mere matter of principle. She wasn't just ideologically opposed to Ozpin.



She hated him.

Him and everyone else like him. Not just men like her father, she had decided; bullies of any stripe. Anyone who used power, aggression and fear to secure their footing at the expense of all the little people too focused on the unenviable task of trying to make it through the day to resist them. That included Ozpin and his savages; it included so-called generals and martyrs and revolutionaries.

It included her.

Remnant would be best served if they all just disappeared beneath the waves.

"Exactly that. A man. Because that's all you are, really, isn't it? A sad little man on a sad little ego trip. You were given more toys, more power, than you knew what to do with, and now you're bored. Bored, old, and grasping desperately for some tiny scrap of significance at the tail end of the miserable waste of air that was your lifetime. You're exactly the kind of insipid, mediocre idiot I've been dealing with every day of my life since I was a girl. And would you like to know the truth?"

Her lower lip curled, a scornful affectation of sympathy. The blade she wielded gleamed, its twin auxiliary barrels burning a stark green as lightning started to rumble in the clouds around them, a sudden downpour sweeping across the area and making her hair slick with moisture.

"You're boring me."

KRAKOOM

Describing what struck the Manta at the precise moment she stepped off as a bolt of lightning would've been like describing a meteor threatening to wipe out all life on the planet as a rock. It was more like a dozen or so different lightning bolts, forcibly stitched together by a tunnel of glyphs into a single extremely large, extremely angry concentrated streak of pure celestial wrath, one that surged into the side of the aircraft with so much force it burned molten holes through the hull and batted it from the sky with no power; sending it and all its occupants spiraling towards the Grimm infested waters below.​

 

[MyrtenRose]

"Well, thank you for that charming mental image I'll never be able to erase. And to think, for the last few months certain people have toiled and labored trying to get me to accept you're 'more' than just a man. As if I'm being wilfully obtuse or something."

Weiss sneered, her voice now flagrant in its airiness, contempt, and even open mockery as it buffeted Ozpin along with the rising winds from where she appeared atop the Manta, primly stepping into view holding something concealed under a cloth veil.

"No, Ozma. I've just been watching you a bit more closely than most people care to. And do you know what I see?"

If nothing else, it was a far cry from how the ancient sorcerer was accustomed to being addressed, and further still from the servile, deferential tones Weiss had always treated him with in the past; but there was far more than simple mocking disdain in the multicolored eyes that narrowed down at him as she stood at the front of the fuselage, planted her heels, and threw aside the veil to reveal Myrtenaster in all its opulent glory.

Channeled through those eyes was more abject disgust, loathing and outright revulsion than she had ever looked at any Grimm with. This, everything she was doing, was no mere matter of principle. She wasn't just ideologically opposed to Ozpin.

View attachment 829352

She hated him.

Him and everyone else like him. Not just men like her father, she had decided; bullies of any stripe. Anyone who used power, aggression and fear to secure their footing at the expense of all the little people too focused on the unenviable task of trying to make it through the day to resist them. That included Ozpin and his savages; it included so-called generals and martyrs and revolutionaries.

It included her.

Remnant would be best served if they all just disappeared beneath the waves.

"Exactly that. A man. Because that's all you are, really, isn't it? A sad little man on a sad little ego trip. You were given more toys, more power, than you knew what to do with, and now you're bored. Bored, old, and grasping desperately for some tiny scrap of significance at the tail end of the miserable waste of air that was your lifetime. You're exactly the kind of insipid, mediocre idiot I've been dealing with every day of my life since I was a girl. And would you like to know the truth?"

Her lower lip curled, a scornful affectation of sympathy. The blade she wielded gleamed, its twin auxiliary barrels burning a stark green as lightning started to rumble in the clouds around them, a sudden downpour sweeping across the area and making her hair slick with moisture.

"You're boring me."

KRAKOOM

Describing what struck the Manta at the precise moment she stepped off as a bolt of lightning would've been like describing a meteor threatening to wipe out all life on the planet as a rock. It was more like a dozen or so different lightning bolts, forcibly stitched together by a tunnel of glyphs into a single extremely large, extremely angry concentrated streak of pure celestial wrath, one that surged into the side of the aircraft with so much force it burned molten holes through the hull and batted it from the sky with no power; sending it and all its occupants spiraling towards the Grimm infested waters below.​

He waited the whole time for Weiss to get every last word she wanted to say out instead of cutting her off like she had with him, the patience of one whose lifespan spanned centuries well on display. He stood ramrod straight and completely still, both hands resting upon the top of his cane in perfect balance and the confident, nonchalant smile never leaving his face. No sooner had she finished did he speak in return. "Oh, no, that just won't do. Tsk tsk. I thought you, of all people, would do better than that. If we're going to do this, we will do it properly." Ozpin shook his head, his borderline carefree attitude still shining through. "I remember a time when before duels began, the challenger showed the proper respect. That's what you will do as well." That air of easygoing evaporated in an instant and a fierce rage revealed itself beneath those burning red eyes, his voice raising significantly. "AND YOU WILL DO IT NOW. Kneel before me, head bowed and do not get up until I say that you may. Only then shall we begin this...fight, if you wish to call it that." The words were harsh, filled with anger, but there was more to it than that.

They carried something more. And for all of Weiss's hate, her mockery, the boredom she felt from his presence...something about those words hit harder than all of those. The feeling that listening was the right thing to do in this circumstance, no, more than just right. It suddenly felt to her that kneeling before him was the thing she wanted to do most in this world, that nothing was better than kneeling for him in respect. The compulsion was as strange as it was sudden, but nevertheless she found it nigh impossible to resist in this proximity, and despite the level of anger he had just displayed, Ozpin waited until she moved to oblige his demand. Only then did he step away.

His stride took him to the edge of the grimm whale and he peered downwards, scrutinizing the waters below. The likelihood of that assault actually doing severe harm to most of the people in them were slim...but his words were sincerely meant. Yang and Blake and Pyrrha assuming she's there too had all done a superb job worthy of reward and recognition. If they needed any assistance, he sent some grimm to do so. If not, he only looked long enough to determine that everyone he'd seen aboard the ship surfaced before turning back towards Weiss.

The lord of the grimm took several steps closer until he was once more standing before Weiss, distant enough that at this angle only his shoes can be seen. "Don't get up. Before we begin, I only have one more question, and I want you to answer with complete honesty. I know that may be difficult for such a renowned Atlesian liar, but do your best. Do you truly believe you can win here?'​

 

[MyrtenRose]

".................."

"....That's a lot to take in."

"I know." Gwen admitted to her two old teammates, her attention briefly turning to the side. "Thank you, Miss Hill, that will--"

"Robyn." The leader of the happy huntresses corrected. "You can call me that. We're all in this together now, after all." She said with a knowing grin. One that was returned with a small smirk from Helios. "Robyn. Thanks, that's all I needed for now. I'm sure there's more pressing matters that require your attention."

"No kidding." Hill agreed, stepping away and Gwen's own focus moved back to Dawn and Selene. "Yes. Yes it is, and I'm well aware how difficult it is to accept, but there is no denying that it is true now. No matter how strange it sounds. Very few people know of this actual threat that's out there and now you and I, us, we are among that number now. Unfortunately, several of those that do have chosen a more...subservient approach. It explains why...why James did what he did. I understand his intent now, why he took those actions...but I can't agree with them. There's always a better way. I have to believe that. Evil can't just be given in to. Not while we can still stand against it."

"But if that whole story was all true, the guy really pulling the strings behind all of this...he can't be killed. Not really. Sure, perhaps a body here and there will pass on but everything the man is, his essence jumps to a new one. Right? How do you even end a threat like that?"

"I...don't know if that is actually possible. In the sense of having a death that sticks, for good. It is a question that has likely been on Salem's mind for centuries and yet here we are, no closer to an answer. But killing him is not the only way, and I have a hypothesis. A possibility. I don't know how feasible it is, I need more data. That's what you two are here for."

"...Care to elaborate?"

"Right right." Gwen nodded, scrambling through the messy stacks of papers on her desk, and the general state of the desks and floor around where she worked in this hideout indicated pretty thoroughly that brilliant did not always mean neat. "I had this thought, after I came back to. You know, after I slipped into unconsciousness from the--"

"Yes. Ironwood's assault."

"...yes." That was still a very sore spot for her but Gwen shook her head. "Anyhow, when I came to, those shattered ribs? Completely healed. What's more, there was this strange energy floating about me. I've never seen anything like it before! I barely got scans of its signature." She sounded extremely excited about that, always a fan of learning something new. "Not much use on its own other than something to look over now and again and imagine the possibilities of what could be done with it. If this magic from time immemorial could accomplish that, what else could it do? An ocean of possibilities!!!" : D

Helios coughed, shifting back into a more serious mode from that display of childlike enthusiasm. "But I digress. The point is, there is magic in the world, but there is only one source in Atlas now, and the chances of getting to her now...I don't like them. Not many others I know of. The kid, Cinder, she's in Vacuo now and likely busy in that whole mess. Vernal was the Spring maiden but no longer, from reports. Summer maiden I don't know of, the grimm lord is off the table entirely, but there is..."

"Salem."

"Correct. She has a grasp on this magic too, and more than just about anyone else living, save one. We know where she is, her status...if you two reached out, I believe she will be open to coming here and providing a steady source of this magical energy so that I may study and experiment at length."

"I still don't see how that would help."

"That's...fair. Bear with me. As you know though, in recent times, Atlas's study on aura has made significant strides. What it's made of, how it can be used, how to capture it. More than that, our ability to transfer it is nothing to sneer at. Take it from one source and give it to another. Pietro has proved that with Penny. You know. Examples. That brings me to my hypothesis. I think it may be possible, with enough knowledge and experimentation, that we could perhaps apply that process to this magic itself. Weaponize that effect, and bring it to bear on the battlefield. On him."

"You mean..."

"Yes. That even if we can not kill the man for good, stealing away the majority of his strength and weakening him significantly is just as much a victory. Without that power...confining him indefinitely might become another feasible option."

"I don't know about this, Gwenny. I feel like that's something Salem or others would have tried already."

There was a nearly imperceptible sigh at the use of that nickname but she moved past it. "Maybe, but we've never before had aura transfer technology like this, in addition to a mind and semblance like mine. She might have tried it in the past by using her own magical prowess, I can't be certain if she did or if that's something she could do, but if she did and it failed...that doesn't mean we shouldn't try again. Scientific progress is built on failure."

"You don't even know if this would work. What it could do or mean if it did work, and what happens to this magic then?"

"I know. It is full of risks, uncertainties...but it is an option, one potential hypothesis to try. At the very least, a weakened threat is...it's something to do. To try. I have to try." Her eyes shut, voice shifting into a much quieter pained whisper. "I owe it to him." A few moments passed in silence before she opened her eyes and looked to them with plain pleading. "Will you at least travel to Vale and make the case to Salem? Whether you believe this hypothesis possible or not, it can't proceed without her cooperation. We need her if we are to discover if this could work or if it is unachievable."

"...Fine."

"...Okay."

Gwen beamed just then, roping both her old teammates into a hug. "Thanks guys. I have to start somewhere, and this...I appreciate it.'

"Hnh. Well maybe show that appreciation more often, once in a while? Not when things are this bad and urgent?"

"What she said."

Helios's mood shifted towards sheepish. "Right...I...I will try for that too."

"...Idiot." They said simultaneously, the hug returned before pulling away to make their way off.​

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

The Spiders were well known in Mistral’s underworld, and even outside of it. Malachite’s was a popular stop for passing criminals or even the seedier side of Hunter’s business. It wasn't a fearsome reputation, per say. They were a gang, sure, but they weren’t the toughest fighters, they didn’t pull the biggest hauls, didn’t have the most friends in the highest places or even the lowest ones. That wasn’t why people knew them.

People knew them because the spiders knew the things worth knowing. Worth paying for.

There were a few secrets hiding in Mistral that had been kept out of their little webs; They knew the Shadowfang worked with someone else to crash Haven's tower, but not who. They didn’t know anything about maidens or magic or immortals. And they never learned Mistral’s second best kept secret, who, exactly, Jack was.

But the list of things they knew about Mistral’s underworld was a lot longer that the list of things they didn’t. And Callie was the right hand woman of the boss lady herself, or whoever was calling the shots these days. So when Ghastly scampered away from his clash with Tyrian, her eyes narrowed, and she ignored the rest of the room at large as she pulled one of her revolvers from their holsters across the back of her hips, and the second he touched her shoulder she suddenly whirled to grip his arm in her free hand and levelled the barrel at his foot.

“Mr. Ghastly. Can’t say it’s a pleasure. Our last source didn’t have it down exactly, an’ I’m pretty sure he died a few days later, an’ this is premium information; was it five, or six?”

Before he could begin to ask what the hell she was talking about, the ammo chamber in her revolver started spinning as she slammed the trigger, unloading all eight bullets into the little jester’s jangly toes

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

The Boss paid it little mind.

Char on the other hand was having his entire life flash before his eyes. It didn't matter what his fight with Pinky had proved. When push came to shove he was little more than a coward. Just a small blot that was going to be erased by this mysterious murderer. One who provoked such feelings of absolute dread in him that he couldn't even raise his sword let alone activate his semblance. Blanche's status was unknown to him but across the street, blood ran down the crushed in hood of the car Blanche had fallen onto from above. His arms splayed out to the sides. Char couldn't even find any words to use to try and beg for his life. He simply gasped like a fish who'd fallen onto dry land.

"Perish!"

The Boss's fist struck, clearing Char's aura, and punching straight through-


"What?!"

That wasn't any ability of the Hitman Team. So, who could have-


The Boss's eyes met Neo's and for a second or two she felt nothing but pure and seemingly endless hatred wafting off him.

As her and Char seemingly disappeared around the corner, he paused for a moment or two.

"....Ah."

His chest rose and fell. It was clear despite his calm demeanor, that little interruption had only angered him further.

"Aurora told me of a mute child who'd been accompanying Black's spawn. It seems she thinks this is little more than a game."

The winds began to intensify, the windows continued to rattle in their frame, any unsecured doors slammed shut. It was as though nature itself was howling.

"Child! If you're out there..." He called out to address Neo. "There isn't a single place you can hide from me. Or find anyone willing to help you against me. Mistral is me and I'm it..." The headlights from the car Blanche had fallen on flashed illuminating the Boss's disguised figure with a orange gleam. Not unlike the glow that Roman had as the faintest vestiges of his semblance appeared and petered out while he took his final breaths in Neo's arms. "Twenty years of strength, capital, and influence got me to where I am today. That won't be undone by...by...your little band of miserable toddlers."

Windows started to crack as the winds reached a fever pitch. Blanche's car started to rock back and forth, it's wheels slamming onto the ground with great vigor. All while he continued to lay atop it unmoving. "Do you think those.....animals..." He spat with such disgust that you might have been confused whether he meant feral cats or dogs or the Shadow Fang "...Operate without so much as a care in the world? No. Nothing happens in Mistral without my knowledge."

*CRASH*

Glass shattered and Neo felt Char practically shaking in her grasp. Even as glass shards began to rain down beside them, his eyes were locked forward.

"So...when I see a mere child....stand in my way...?"

The Boss's feet left solid ground and he began to float upwards as he kicked off the ground.

Char pulled Neo's hand away from his mouth. "Kid! You've gotta get out of here! Now! This is someone you don't ever want to fight!" He hissed through gritted teeth. Rising to his feet, Char felt a cold wind blow down past the nape of his neck and the bottom of his shirt rustled in the wind before it settled against his skin. The Hitman Team had long theorized whatever semblance the Boss might have had. It had to have been something crazy like maybe skipping time or freezing it. But with how fast he'd closed the distance between where he'd been standing and where Char and Neo had paused to hide, Char felt as though he were a little rabbit being eyed by a ravenous wolf. He felt the Boss's bandaged up hand grip around his neck and close around his throat. The founder of the Bound Ashes who'd stepped out onto the field to protect his own interests stared down the diminutive huntress.

"I get rid of it."

It. Meant to dehumanize and disregard not only Neo's life but those who threatened him and the power he held as Mistral's man behind the scenes. With a quick finger flick upwards from his freehand, a sudden updraft hit Neo from below knocking her into the air and from there Neo could have barely made out the wind hissing past The Boss's fingers as he whipped his hand forward to send Neo rocketing away from him. Char could barely speak he was so scared. But he didn't want to see anything happen to Pinky. "Run, kid...RUN!" ​

Neo's eyes had slowly narrowed as the Boss gave his speech, her nervous frown hardening into a growl.

Ten words in and she already wanted to kick his ass.

She wasn't some child. Nobody got to call Mercury someone's 'spawn'. So what if this guy thought he was Mistral? Neopolitan was more than that; She was Mount Glenn, and Beacon, and Haven Academy, and all of it added up to something stronger than-

Her eyes almost burst of her skull they popped so wide when Char decided to wrestle himself out of her grip and start whisper yelling. Neo had just enough time to look at him, completely flabbergasted and lowkey offended-

'WHY???'

- before the boss shattered through the illusion covering them and she found herself whipping through the air like a tossed ragdoll shot out of a catapult. and it looked like that was really it; that Neo never really got her bearings and disappeared well over the roof of one of the district's warehouses-

-Hush cam flying straight for the side of the Boss' head in a fully torqued twist of a baseball bat swing, Neo's eyes gleaming with a downright dangerous glow and a vicious grin. She'd caught a powerline with Hush's handle, flipped her momentum, and landed quietly as possible next to the killer, parasol already at the ready for a braining as she turned and swung

 

[MidwayLives]

Emerald didn't answer. She hadn't said anything at all since her and Violet commenced their impasse, in fact, which was the sole clue the hitman got before she felt a cold barrel press against the back of her head and had to process that concurrently with the sight of the Emerald standing in front of her melting away into the shadows, along with the coy voice of the very much tangible one behind her infiltrating her ears.

"'Mooks'."

BANG

Vanille skidded back with the soles of her boots grinding against the floor.

She didn't say anything but the canid ears atop her head twitched.

It felt nice to be able to fight someone worth a damn. Whoever the kid's dad was being irrelevant.

Guy was a huge dick anyway. One of the few people to actually MEET the Boss and guy still never spoke a word about him. Not even to any of the other Elites or them.

Vanille's legs began to glow as steam radiated off them. She moved forward once again decreasing the distance between herself and Mercury as she unleashed a flurry of kicks his way. Even after the 'mooks' comment, the faunus didn't say anything. For her part Vanile didn't really talk much at all. Believing that actions spoke louder than words and some such nonsense. Despite the arguments that brewed occasionally like Violet chiding Char for his cowardly reliance on his semblance and Blanche's womanizing ways, the group respected each of it's members enough that they never pressed her for conversation. She spoke when she felt the situation provided something for her to say. Taking another step, Vanile spread her feet apart and burst forward. The spot where she'd previously been standing left cracked and torn. There was the slightest of blurs as Vanile immediately erased whatever distance there was between herself and the leader of Team MTEN as she threw her knee forward to crack Mercury in the chest to knock him back. She didn't let up as her foot touched down on the floor as she didn't wait for Mercury to gather his bearings before letting loose a flurry of kicks at him.

~~~

Violet for her part cursed under her breath.

"Illusions..." Why did it have to be illusions? Why couldn't they just fight until they'd bloodied eachother-

"Mooks?!"

*BANG*

Violet stumbled back as her aura flared up like a raging fire. One might have thought the shot to the back of the head had hurt. Like really really hurt and you'd be right. But as a red aura continued to burst around Violet's person, she stamped her foot up and down. Her semblance let her basically endure pain better than the average person or even huntsman/huntstess. Pretty much an adrenaline injection in semblance form. "....Owwwww! That really stung you lime green little shit!" The red aura grew a shade brighter as Violet turned towards Emerald and tried just pouncing at her to take her to the floor. If illusions were all she had then it stood to reason her hand to hand wasn't up to par with those who preferred close range like Vanile or Black's kid.

~~~

Blanche's status was unknown, Char was alive but terrified, and Violet and Vanile were caught up trying to retrieve the former two.

But what of their leader, Abyss?

Having not unlocked her semblance, the hired killer didn't let it deter her from pursuing the goals she'd set in life. Standing apart from all the others that had applied for the role of leader of the Hitman Team. It'd taken twelve grueling hours but by the end it was decided that she was the most suitable candidate. Earning the respect of her subordinates came second. Char and Violet took the longest but they fell in line after Abyss made it clear that she didn't get to where she was relying on a tool like a semblance. Her brains and her equipment were all she needed. Perched on a rooftop a few buildings down from the warehouse, Abyss watched the proceedings carefully.

The plan had been simple: at least from the start.

Retrieve Char and Blanche then bounce. Neutralize Black's kid and his friends if necessary. Cash out their lien and bail from Mistral as a whole.

She'd left the actual task of dealing with Mercury and co up to Vanile and Violet. Obnoxious and brash as Violet may have been, she always followed orders and never questioned Abyss's authority when it came to matters like this. They were through being the Boss's underappreciated playthings. If they were gonna be tasked to take out that asshole Marcus's kid and then get stuck up shit creek after two of their own got beaten? Screw the gang, they'd make it out on their own. Which left Abyss guarding the exterior. It seemed that whatever Blanche and Char had been tasked with by these kids was to stand guard outside the warehouse where Violet and Vanile had been waiting. Once the two succeeded, they'd open the door, walk out, regroup with Blanche and Char and get out of their while Abyss covered their exit.

That had been the plan. Emphasis on the had.

As the fierce winds heralding the Boss's arrival/semblance began to brew, Abyss was a bit confused. The weather conditions hadn't seemed right for such an unexpected torrent of wind. Holding her position even as it battered her, she zoomed in on the scene and didn't like what she saw. Some kind of masked figure had appeared beside Char and Blanche and Blanche was suddenly rocketing through the air screaming...until he landed atop a car with a sickening squelch. She'd seen his aura dissipate. Turning her attention back to Char, she prepared to open fire on the mysterious attacker but then something happened. Somebody had stepped in to save Char. Likely one of Black's friends. ...But why?

....Didn't matter for the moment. Char was in danger.

Reaching up to the side of the device over her eyes, Abyss began to speak.

"Violet, Vanile. The situation's changed. I don't know what's happening but something's not right. There's someone out here and he just attacked Char and Blanche. I'm going to-"

*bzzzt*

For the purposes of this mission, both Violet and Vanile had been given earbuds to keep in touch with Abyss.

Vanile couldn't hear hers over the sound of gunfire and generally not paying attention. Violet's had fallen out after Emerald's shot to the back of the head.

"Violet? Vanile?" No response. "Damn it..."

She tried to take aim.

"Dunno who you are, kid. But....thanks."
​

 

[Gus Gungus]

He waited the whole time for Weiss to get every last word she wanted to say out instead of cutting her off like she had with him, the patience of one whose lifespan spanned centuries well on display. He stood ramrod straight and completely still, both hands resting upon the top of his cane in perfect balance and the confident, nonchalant smile never leaving his face. No sooner had she finished did he speak in return. "Oh, no, that just won't do. Tsk tsk. I thought you, of all people, would do better than that. If we're going to do this, we will do it properly." Ozpin shook his head, his borderline carefree attitude still shining through. "I remember a time when before duels began, the challenger showed the proper respect. That's what you will do as well." That air of easygoing evaporated in an instant and a fierce rage revealed itself beneath those burning red eyes, his voice raising significantly. "AND YOU WILL DO IT NOW. Kneel before me, head bowed and do not get up until I say that you may. Only then shall we begin this...fight, if you wish to call it that." The words were harsh, filled with anger, but there was more to it than that.

They carried something more. And for all of Weiss's hate, her mockery, the boredom she felt from his presence...something about those words hit harder than all of those. The feeling that listening was the right thing to do in this circumstance, no, more than just right. It suddenly felt to her that kneeling before him was the thing she wanted to do most in this world, that nothing was better than kneeling for him in respect. The compulsion was as strange as it was sudden, but nevertheless she found it nigh impossible to resist in this proximity, and despite the level of anger he had just displayed, Ozpin waited until she moved to oblige his demand. Only then did he step away.

His stride took him to the edge of the grimm whale and he peered downwards, scrutinizing the waters below. The likelihood of that assault actually doing severe harm to most of the people in them were slim...but his words were sincerely meant. Yang and Blake and Pyrrha assuming she's there too had all done a superb job worthy of reward and recognition. If they needed any assistance, he sent some grimm to do so. If not, he only looked long enough to determine that everyone he'd seen aboard the ship surfaced before turning back towards Weiss.

Well then. An eleventh hour semblance reveal was something she might've prepared for, but that would've required acknowledging that Ozpin had a soul. She had barely touched down when the words hit, and as soon as they registered the war of emotions that broke out in Weiss's brain could be plainly seen on her face, features cycling through shock, confusion, rage and panic as her mouth opened and closed without ever actually forming a word. What an absurd thing to demand. Not only in general, but of her. Was this husk of human pollution paying her the slightest bit of attention? Did he even have a vague inkling of who he was talking to? He was asking her to kneel now? Her? Her?

That was something she hadn't even done when they were 'allies'. She had no doubt Blake and Ruby were well acquainted with the taste of his shoe polish by now, but no matter how sour a mood he was in Weiss had always stood poised, shoulders back, back straight, and looked him in the eye. That was just her. She wasn't his slave; she was Weiss Schnee. She was never living under someone's thrall again. And she didn't kneel.


But she wanted to.

No. She didn't.

She did. You do.

That was quite literally the most ridiculous thing her subconscious mind had ever tried to convince her of, and yet—

It's all you ever wanted. All you ever will. Deny all you like, but you know as well as I do how much you missed this feeling.

That isn't—

It's nice, isn't it? To have every decision made for you. To relinquish the burden of control. Not having to agonize over every minute detail of everything that's going to happen, or is. Mother was always perfectly content living that way. I mean, don't pretend the only reason we liked that mopheaded yellow twit so much wasn't that we enjoyed how it felt to have someone grab us by the lapels for a change—



"NO!"

It was a less immediate response than Oz was used to. As much as the darker recesses of her mind may have been telling her this was what she wanted, every part of a soul whose core directive was to defy was screaming otherwise. Her face was the color of her hair, teeth biting down so hard she tasted copper, fingernails digging deep grooves into her palms as her knees quivered with barely contained fury she tried to forge into a weapon against whatever was coming over her. She didn't kneel. She didn't kneel. She DIDN'T KNEEL--

Her knee touched whatever passed for the floor on this creature's back, and the uproar in her soul finally externalized itself as a terse, inarticulate scream of unabated anger as she prostrated herself before Ozpin for the very first time, the thick waves of outrage and indignity emanating from her in that moment as potent as incense to any Grimm in the vicinity. Once her head was down she went preternaturally still, little given in the way of a reaction to her enemy lording it over her save the soft heave of her shoulders as she caught her breath.

The lord of the grimm took several steps closer until he was once more standing before Weiss, distant enough that at this angle only his shoes can be seen. "Don't get up. Before we begin, I only have one more question, and I want you to answer with complete honesty. I know that may be difficult for such a renowned Atlesian liar, but do your best. Do you truly believe you can win here?'

Weiss remained unmoving as he circled back around in front of her, giving off the distinct impression that she had tired herself out by this point. With her head bowed it was difficult to tell how much of her attention was even on Ozpin, and the only sign she was listening came when a low, hollow tone came from her hunched frame in response, again more delayed than he was accustomed to.

"I... I b-believe..."

She began slowly, as lifeless as she had ever sounded as the truth was wrung from her lips without her consent.

"...that there are certain beings in this world... whose sole intrinsic purpose..."

Of course, he never specified what truth that needed to be. Never told her what exactly she needed to be honest about.

The truth she was choosing to share was that the grandstanding, self-congratulatory tool in front of her needed to be very careful of how lightly he took her. Her head snapped up from where it had been bowed, an unlikely feat in its own right bolstered by the twin glyphs keeping his ankles tethered in place if he looked down, and though she didn't rise the venom in her glare spoke volumes as to how long she meant to be in this particular position as her voice built to its defiant crescendo, more than loud enough to mask the swish of the large, ethereal bastard sword sweeping down towards his shoulders in a decapitating strike from behind.



"...is to DIE!"​

 

[MidwayLives]

But the list of things they knew about Mistral’s underworld was a lot longer that the list of things they didn’t. And Callie was the right hand woman of the boss lady herself, or whoever was calling the shots these days. So when Ghastly scampered away from his clash with Tyrian, her eyes narrowed, and she ignored the rest of the room at large as she pulled one of her revolvers from their holsters across the back of her hips, and the second he touched her shoulder she suddenly whirled to grip his arm in her free hand and levelled the barrel at his foot.

Ghastly held up his hands and stumbled back. Though she couldn't see it, the makings of a grin were forming on the twisted jester's face.

The Hitman Team had hated being paired up with him. In fact they didn't trust any of the Elite Guard. Most of them ranged from psychos like Émeraude and that 'thing' that was supposed to be her daughter to casual murderers like Satin(who hadn't been seen in quite a while since leaving for Atlas...) But Ghastly creeped them out the most. He didn't talk at all and as Aurora had seen firsthand after Ghastly had captured a Spider who'd gotten a bit too nosey, he enjoyed using 'The Show Must Go On' to it's cruelest extent. Taking a loaded gun-typically a revolver-and lowering his aura as he pressed the barrel of the gun to his head and spun the chamber. No matter how many times it misfired or hit a empty chamber, he knew eventually he'd get the result he wanted.

When he did, he pulled the trigger.

The spider's head exploded like a a wet egg.

While the Hitman Team's members were ready to cut their losses and leave after this was done, Ghastly had been given a mission of his own. Deal with as many of those who'd decided to tag along with Blanco-the former leader of the Community Team turned traitor apparently-and deal with what remained of the Hitman Team afterwards. If something should have come up where the Boss was occupied-such as he was now with Neo-he had Ghastly as insurance to ensure that nobody left this scene alive. Not the group hunting for the Mistral Murderer or the Hitman Team.

Ghastly obeyed.

Because he was a good boy.~
​

“Mr. Ghastly. Can’t say it’s a pleasure. Our last source didn’t have it down exactly, an’ I’m pretty sure he died a few days later, an’ this is premium information; was it five, or six?”

"....?"

He quirked his head to the side. What on Remnant could she have ever meant-
​

Before he could begin to ask what the hell she was talking about, the ammo chamber in her revolver started spinning as she slammed the trigger, unloading all eight bullets into the little jester’s jangly toes

The first shot caused him to jump back.

But it wasn't him that hurt. It was one of Callie's own toes.

One touch, one hit.

Such was the way 'The Show Must Go On'

The rest however...?

He winced and flailed his arms this way, that way, every which way. It hurt! His aura flared and flashed. His boots were absolutely ruined.

Until the revolver clicked and no more shots came out. It was on empty. The frown under Ghastly's mask quickly shifted back into a grin as he drew his own revolver and leaped for Callie. One certified touch was all it took. His fingers glowed as he lashed out .Having seen quite enough of what had apparently been an ambush set by the Elite Guard and the Hitman Team...likely on Aurora's orders, Blanco slammed his fist against the floor and a blue line spread across from where his fist had impacted and stopped between Callie and Ghastly. The bit of floor that'd had been marked by Blanco's line tore open as though it'd been pulled apart, giving a bit of a sneak peek into the decrepit looking basement down below. Struggling to retain his balance from falling into the newly made divide in the floor, Ghastly wobbled back and forth as Tyrian sat nearby shaking his head from side to side.

Mercury laughing aside, he'd been right. This guy's semblance was definitely up there in terms of being a real pain in the ass. His tail coiled up and appeared ready to sting as Tyrian hopped up and raced towards Ghastly who stood precariously over falling headfirst into the basement. Seeing the tail coming out of the corner of his eye, Ghastly stumbled to the side and fell down, exhaling a quiet sigh of relief that he hadn't fallen into the hole that Blanco's 'Split' had made. Looking over and seeing Tyrian standing over him, Ghastly aimed the revolver and-

"Not gonna happen!" Tyrian cried out as he kicked Ghastly in the chin, knocking the revolver away in the process. As he pulled his foot back though, Ghastly gripped onto his leg for dear life. "Damn it..." The faunus chided himself for letting this guy get one over on him again. Pulling his leg free, Tyrian's gauntlets opened up and he aimed both barrels down at Ghastly. "I'm not playing games with you. None of us are. Now call off your friends or I swear I'll end you right here, right now!" He growled and Ghastly's response was to hold up one hand while letting his other arm dangle between the divide that Blanco had made in the floor. He knew enough about the semblances of the Team's leaders that 'Split' had a time limit on how long something could stay divided. Putting stuff together(like the furniture/walls that Char had destroyed in Callie's bar)was simple. It'd stay put together unless Blanco's aura broke or he died unless a certain amount of time had passed to make the effects 'permanent.' When dividing things however...they didn't stay divided for long. Given the gruesome effects it often left on enemies if Blanco landed a clean shot, the 'pieces' coming back together helped make funerals more presentable at least. The floor near Callie and Ghastly/Tyrian began to rumble.

Blanco saw Ghastly's arm and realized what he was doing. "Tyrian! Get him off the floor! GET HIM UP NOW!"

The faunus looked over his shoulder at Blanco. "What??? He's pinned down, Blanco! Callie and I got him-"

*vshhh...*

The line marking Blanco's semblance faded and the floor came throttling back to smash together. Tyrian's tail lashed out and stabbed through the collar of Ghastly's outfit and pulled him off his back. The divided floor came together and Ghastly smiled behind his mask. All while Callie could see in real time as Tyrian's left hand twist and bend as fingers bent ways they weren't supposed to and his hand ended up resembling a bloody picasso painting more than anything. Ghastly stepped back from Tyrian as the faunus examined the damage he'd just undergone in horror. He'd stabbed himself in a poorly thought out attempt to get one over on his opponent. But to have your hand crushed as though it'd been left under a boulder was another feeling entirely. "AGAAAAAHHHH!!!" He shrieked.

Blanco couldn't hide the look of shock that came over his face. Out of all the Elites they had to send him. Even if Blanco were able to close the distance between them and aid Callie, if Ghastly managed to land a hit on either of them and Blanco struck with his semblance, the effects could be downright grotesque and horrifying. As Tyrian wailed, Ghastly scoffed at how his good dress shirt had been ruined by Tyrian's stinger as he turned towards Callie again and leaped.~​

 

[MidwayLives]

- before the boss shattered through the illusion covering them and she found herself whipping through the air like a tossed ragdoll shot out of a catapult. and it looked like that was really it; that Neo never really got her bearings and disappeared well over the roof of one of the district's warehouses-

"KID!"

Char screamed but maybe it was a blessing in disguise. The kid was skilled. Maybe she could survive and get out of here. Take her friends with her and never look back. Forget about Mistral and all of the stuff that happened here. As for him and Blanche? Well, from what little he'd seen his partner/likely best friend hadn't been doing so hot. Finding himself struggling to breath with a vice grip around his throat, Char couldn't say he felt much better. The Boss's cold eyes with what appeared to be fragmented pupils stared down at Char and spoke calmly. As if all his earlier annoyance at Neo interfering had simply washed away.

"Now...there'll be no more interruptions. You'll die here."

Char closed his eyes and waited for the end to come.
​

-Hush cam flying straight for the side of the Boss' head in a fully torqued twist of a baseball bat swing, Neo's eyes gleaming with a downright dangerous glow and a vicious grin. She'd caught a powerline with Hush's handle, flipped her momentum, and landed quietly as possible next to the killer, parasol already at the ready for a braining as she turned and swung

Char was flung to the ground and Hush never connected.

It didn't even so much as come into contact with the Boss's aura.

Instead, Neo found herself once again swooped off her feet and caught in a mini cyclone that seemed to gestate from around the Boss's person himself. Given how he'd had to drop Char though it appeared that he needed to cease physical contact before the 'field' could be put up. Lest anything he was holding onto be flung away as well. Eventually, Neo would find herself once more thrown back harshly from the Boss's general vicinity. As the wind started to die down around him now that Neo had been tossed back, he didn't turn to face her. He only seemed to chuckle.

"What a utterly annoying nuisance you are, child. Illusions. Attempting to strike me as though I were just a common thug. Not once since I've made Mistal and it's people mine has anyone been able to lay so much as a finger on me. Not unless I've willed it. However tenacious you might be, you'll find I'm not one to entertain childness, my little neophyte." He finally stepped to the side and revealed why he didn't seem intent on going after Neo. Char was laying flat on his back with what appeared to be the outline of a knife given form by the blood dripping from Char's wound as he'd been directly stabbed in the side. "Run kid...Save yourself..." He pleaded.

"No, Char. I'm afraid it's too late for that..." The Boss began as he looked over his shoulder at Neo and kicked off the ground towards her. Knowing it was coming this time, Neo likely would have been able to stay standing on her own two feet as he blew past her. "She and her motley little crew of vermin were doomed the second they stuck their noses in my affairs.. and over what...A lowly animal!" He lashed out to try and grab Neo by the neck.

"Now it's time to pay your dues, you wretched little cur!"

The wind around Neo and the Boss was intense. You'd have needed something to lean on like Hush in it's closed up form or a wall to cling to in the midst of this brewing storm. He'd seen the illusion this child had been using shatter. If she tried to use one again then the wind would buffet it until it too broke before him. Just as all things did, as they all would. Of course, she could try to simply run and leave Char behind. He'd kill her later. There was no doubt of that. Given how she'd been fighting to protect the hitman, the Boss doubted the validity of that potential scenario. Which meant that his grip only got tighter. "You should never have come here..." He growled.

*BANG*

A shot clipped the wall beside the Boss. His head turned and then back in the direction of the shot. "What-"

Another shot came flying towards him and past the captive Neo. It'd ping his aura if he didn't...

With an aggravated yell, he flung Neo back near the injured Char. The field of wind around him picked back up and the bullet was sent flying back the way it'd came. Sailing past Abyss's neck and leaving her sweating. Whoever this guy was....That was one dangerous semblance.​

 

[MyrtenRose]

Well then. An eleventh hour semblance reveal was something she might've prepared for, but that would've required acknowledging that Ozpin had a soul. She had barely touched down when the words hit, and as soon as they registered the war of emotions that broke out in Weiss's brain could be plainly seen on her face, features cycling through shock, confusion, rage and panic as her mouth opened and closed without ever actually forming a word. What an absurd thing to demand. Not only in general, but of her. Was this husk of human pollution paying her the slightest bit of attention? Did he even have a vague inkling of who he was talking to? He was asking her to kneel now? Her? Her?

That was something she hadn't even done when they were 'allies'. She had no doubt Blake and Ruby were well acquainted with the taste of his shoe polish by now, but no matter how sour a mood he was in Weiss had always stood poised, shoulders back, back straight, and looked him in the eye. That was just her. She wasn't his slave; she was Weiss Schnee. She was never living under someone's thrall again. And she didn't kneel.


But she wanted to.

No. She didn't.

She did. You do.

That was quite literally the most ridiculous thing her subconscious mind had ever tried to convince her of, and yet—

It's all you ever wanted. All you ever will. Deny all you like, but you know as well as I do how much you missed this feeling.

That isn't—

It's nice, isn't it? To have every decision made for you. To relinquish the burden of control. Not having to agonize over every minute detail of everything that's going to happen, or is. Mother was always perfectly content living that way. I mean, don't pretend the only reason we liked that mopheaded yellow twit so much wasn't that we enjoyed how it felt to have someone grab us by the lapels for a change—

View attachment 829476

"NO!"

It was a less immediate response than Oz was used to. As much as the darker recesses of her mind may have been telling her this was what she wanted, every part of a soul whose core directive was to defy was screaming otherwise. Her face was the color of her hair, teeth biting down so hard she tasted copper, fingernails digging deep grooves into her palms as her knees quivered with barely contained fury she tried to forge into a weapon against whatever was coming over her. She didn't kneel. She didn't kneel. She DIDN'T KNEEL--

Her knee touched whatever passed for the floor on this creature's back, and the uproar in her soul finally externalized itself as a terse, inarticulate scream of unabated anger as she prostrated herself before Ozpin for the very first time, the thick waves of outrage and indignity emanating from her in that moment as potent as incense to any Grimm in the vicinity. Once her head was down she went preternaturally still, little given in the way of a reaction to her enemy lording it over her save the soft heave of her shoulders as she caught her breath.





Weiss remained unmoving as he circled back around in front of her, giving off the distinct impression that she had tired herself out by this point. With her head bowed it was difficult to tell how much of her attention was even on Ozpin, and the only sign she was listening came when a low, hollow tone came from her hunched frame in response, again more delayed than he was accustomed to.

"I... I b-believe..."

She began slowly, as lifeless as she had ever sounded as the truth was wrung from her lips without her consent.

"...that there are certain beings in this world... whose sole intrinsic purpose..."

Of course, he never specified what truth that needed to be. Never told her what exactly she needed to be honest about.

The truth she was choosing to share was that the grandstanding, self-congratulatory tool in front of her needed to be very careful of how lightly he took her. Her head snapped up from where it had been bowed, an unlikely feat in its own right bolstered by the twin glyphs keeping his ankles tethered in place if he looked down, and though she didn't rise the venom in her glare spoke volumes as to how long she meant to be in this particular position as her voice built to its defiant crescendo, more than loud enough to mask the swish of the large, ethereal bastard sword sweeping down towards his shoulders in a decapitating strike from behind.

View attachment 829585

"...is to DIE!"​

His gaze was focused solely on Weiss, a very self-satisfied look in those red eyes, far crueler than any of the Branwens' own and that mood was reflected in the wide smile as well. That expression never left even as Weiss's head snapped up without being ordered to do so. Those inhuman eyes never flickered down towards his shoes, nor to behind him. They stayed looking at Weiss as she screamed with pure defiance, the glyphs seemingly unnoticed and the sound of the giant blade swinging behind him overshadowed by that aggressive shout. It was coming in and he made no move to dodge it, or even any so much as to turn that way. The hope that Ozpin's interest in witnessing Weiss acknowledge his superiority meant his arrogance won out over any consideration of self-preservation. The attack, it was going to--

Stop short of its intended target, the blade slamming into a green energy that shimmered around Ozpin, an emerald dome that encircled him like a shield, protecting him from harm. The sword didn't bounce off, so much strength behind it that it still fiercely pushed against that unyielding defense, trying in vain to pierce through the shield. Ozpin still didn't so much as look down at his feet, but the glyphs keeping him rooted in place abruptly changed color, a dark purple taking over, consuming the light blue until none of that was left...and then they just vanished entirely, locking him to the spot no longer. He turned then and the green shield likewise faded, letting the blade come through. But it was with none of the original striking power, and the sword that now clumsily came down was caught against his cane, kept at bay. And like the glyphs, the pure icy blue of the summoned knight became tainted with another color. Cracks of emerald spread across the armor of the ethereal knight, and the color shined as bright as any fire. The cracks and splinters glowed like none other...and the knight burst apart from the inside entirely in an explosion that bathed them both in a pale emerald light, bits and pieces of the knight and the sword scattering across the ground in a messy fashion.

His gaze lingered on the remains for a moment longer before he spun on his heel back towards the councilwoman. "A valiant effort, truly." Some might have been mocking in this situation, but his voice gave off the sense of utter sincerity. Whether that meant he truly thought that or was simply that gifted with lying was impossible to judge, hidden behind that inhuman face. "I am impressed, Miss Schnee. To resist my will so ably, lifting your head in defiant rage such as this...it is remarkable. Worthy of praise, and might I say, quite a sight to behold. This only makes it all the more disappointing that you've chosen to stand against me. The things we could have done together...it is a shame." He even shook his head in regret. "Such a waste."

He took a step backward. "But you made your choice, and now you have to suffer through what happens next. For, you see, you're quite right. Some people on this world are simply born to die. Their ultimate purpose just to perish." He smirked dangerously. "You may rise now." He gave her struggling body ease, letting her move freely and unburdened by his semblance once again. "So come, give me everything you have, and let us find out whose fate that truly is."
​

 

[Gus Gungus]

His gaze lingered on the remains for a moment longer before he spun on his heel back towards the councilwoman. "A valiant effort, truly." Some might have been mocking in this situation, but his voice gave off the sense of utter sincerity. Whether that meant he truly thought that or was simply that gifted with lying was impossible to judge, hidden behind that inhuman face. "I am impressed, Miss Schnee. To resist my will so ably, lifting your head in defiant rage such as this...it is remarkable. Worthy of praise, and might I say, quite a sight to behold. This only makes it all the more disappointing that you've chosen to stand against me. The things we could have done together...it is a shame." He even shook his head in regret. "Such a waste."

He took a step backward. "But you made your choice, and now you have to suffer through what happens next. For, you see, you're quite right. Some people on this world are simply born to die. Their ultimate purpose just to perish." He smirked dangerously. "You may rise now." He gave her struggling body ease, letting her move freely and unburdened by his semblance once again. "So come, give me everything you have, and let us find out whose fate that truly is."

When Ozpin turned back, it was to an entirely different picture than the Weiss he had turned his back on. The outpouring of wrath, indignation, and impotent frustration was gone, whatever she felt at the sight of her literal knight in shining armor being so viciously dispatched yanked back and sharpened into a stare of focused, withering resolve so icy it chilled the soul, working in tandem with the storm she summoned down on them. Its heavy coat of rain continued to pelt down on the whale's back, soaking her hair through even as the winds whipped it around her face; Myrtenaster's tip dug into the grimm's flesh, a single pinpoint glyph keeping it anchored, but none of that was what most immediately grabbed him.



It was the glyphs. She was silhouetted against a wall of them so high, dense, and all-encompassing they all but consumed the darkness of the gathering storm clouds in their radiance, as if the sun itself had descended through the shadows tinted a pale, arctic blue. It was a sight that hurt just to look at for any sharpened faunus eyes in the waters below, so astride the beast's back itself it was downright blinding, sigil after sigil compounding and stacked atop one another, threaded together by chains so complex it could've made a geometer's head spin. It would've been one thing if it stopped at just a wall; but the endless columns of light sprang up behind him, too, ornate snowflakes veering overhead and underfoot to seal them inside an elaborate euclidean structure of sorts as her dust barrels burned, her maiden eyes exploded, and every single one of the glyphs thrummed with energies both primordial, spiritual, and harvested from the natural world.

The full might of the magic, semblance, and dust she wielded, all consolidated into one perfect trifecta, an act of god waiting to happen she had every intention of bringing down in full on a foe who appeared to be operating under the misconception that she was an insect of some kind.

"You say far too little for someone who speaks so much, Ozpin."

Only then did she finally stand, slow and deliberate. Each of the glyph's centers were trained directly on him, the sole exception being the ones she stood atop herself, which conjured layers of hardlight around her necessary only to ensure she didn't wipe herself out in the looming onslaught.

"Choke on it."

This fool would simply prattle on all day if you let him.

Any further words were lost in the cacophony of every single one of the glyphs raining hell down on Ozpin where he stood for a good twenty seconds, the sky a kaleidoscope of differing shades for the duration. Myrtenaster's vials were completely empty by the time she was through, Weiss herself on unsteady feet as she gasped with exertion and used her sword's grip to maintain balance, the whale's flight path less than steady in the wake of a level of carnage wrought across its blubber even it couldn't brush off.

She doubted her enemy could, either.​

 

[MyrtenRose]

When Ozpin turned back, it was to an entirely different picture than the Weiss he had turned his back on. The outpouring of wrath, indignation, and impotent frustration was gone, whatever she felt at the sight of her literal knight in shining armor being so viciously dispatched yanked back and sharpened into a stare of focused, withering resolve so icy it chilled the soul, working in tandem with the storm she summoned down on them. Its heavy coat of rain continued to pelt down on the whale's back, soaking her hair through even as the winds whipped it around her face; Myrtenaster's tip dug into the grimm's flesh, a single pinpoint glyph keeping it anchored, but none of that was what most immediately grabbed him.

View attachment 829786

It was the glyphs. She was silhouetted against a wall of them so high, dense, and all-encompassing they all but consumed the darkness of the gathering storm clouds in their radiance, as if the sun itself had descended through the shadows tinted a pale, arctic blue. It was a sight that hurt just to look at for any sharpened faunus eyes in the waters below, so astride the beast's back itself it was downright blinding, sigil after sigil compounding and stacked atop one another, threaded together by chains so complex it could've made a geometer's head spin. It would've been one thing if it stopped at just a wall; but the endless columns of light sprang up behind him, too, ornate snowflakes veering overhead and underfoot to seal them inside an elaborate euclidean structure of sorts as her dust barrels burned, her maiden eyes exploded, and every single one of the glyphs thrummed with energies both primordial, spiritual, and harvested from the natural world.

The full might of the magic, semblance, and dust she wielded, all consolidated into one perfect trifecta, an act of god waiting to happen she had every intention of bringing down in full on a foe who appeared to be operating under the misconception that she was an insect of some kind.

"You say far too little for someone who speaks so much, Ozpin."

Only then did she finally stand, slow and deliberate. Each of the glyph's centers were trained directly on him, the sole exception being the ones she stood atop herself, which conjured layers of hardlight around her necessary only to ensure she didn't wipe herself out in the looming onslaught.

"Choke on it."

This fool would simply prattle on all day if you let him.

Any further words were lost in the cacophony of every single one of the glyphs raining hell down on Ozpin where he stood for a good twenty seconds, the sky a kaleidoscope of differing shades for the duration. Myrtenaster's vials were completely empty by the time she was through, Weiss herself on unsteady feet as she gasped with exertion and used her sword's grip to maintain balance, the whale's flight path less than steady in the wake of a level of carnage wrought across its blubber even it couldn't brush off.

She doubted her enemy could, either.​

"Beautiful." In contrast to his tendency to go on at length, as he observed that wall of pale icy blue stretching up into the sky, that was all he said about it. There was no worry in his voice about the multitude of glyphs, no concern or fear or anything resembling them apparent in either his voice or on his face. There was only appreciation as he took in the sight. That look remained present the whole time, even up to the moment the barrage got unleashed upon him. It was impossible to say whether that expression remained after that. The thunderous assault obscured the grimm master, the barrage of rainbow streaks that buried his general location just as pleasant to look at. There was no sound at all from his end as the sizzle of the blasts tore through the sky, as they impacted like thunder and threw up tons of hazy, almost black smoke.

When the assault finally let up, and silence took its place...it was an eerie one. There were no sounds of pain, no sign that a counterattack was imminent. There was just silence, a tense quiet that lingered for a little over a minute. It was only then that the silence was broken, by a single thud. And then another, and another, and on, until Ozpin's stride took him out of the smoke produced by the absolutely ferocious assault. As he stepped into sight again, one thing was immediately and evidently clear.

There was no sign of injury, not so much as even a single bruise, scratch or burn.

"Oh, Weiss." He shook his head, ending with it tilted to the side slightly in profound disappointment. "Was that really the best you could do?" He didn't give her time to answer. The spot where he just stood was nearly empty, the man moving so fast there was a brief afterimage left in his wake, swift movement that rivalled if not surpassed speeds either Ruby or Harriet could boast of. Weiss didn't get to take that in at length, as before her eyes could fully lock on to where he was now, there was a hand gripping her tight by the throat and slowly tightening further, crushing the air out of her. He lifted her up with one arm until their eyes were level.

"It may have been premature of me to say that I was impressed by you." He spat with thinly veiled disgust. "I could just crush your neck entirely right now. Perhaps I should...what do you think? Go on, say something. Best as you can manage. Something clever, perhaps? A scathing insult? I'm waiting with bated breath."​

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

Blake hadn’t gotten in Weiss’ way as she’d strode out of the manta; No matter how doggedly determined she was to enforce Ozpin’s will, she was, truly, not in any condition to stand up to Weiss. Her body had been ravaged by channeling the staff of creation through it, brute force of will and a well matching semblance enough to make it work but not enough to stop its energies from ripping her apart from the inside, and that was before she spent five minutes dead.

That was only half of it though. She didn’t need to stop Weiss from fighting Ozpin, for the very same reason she was so loyal to such a monster; He was power, incarnate. No display of force, even from someone as mighty as Weiss Schnee with the power of two maidens, was going to topple him from his dark throne. She didn’t need to stop Weiss herself

She needed to stop whatever she was planning.

Even as the manta rocked after the lightning strike and began to careen downwards, all four ears ringing from the blast of sound that accompanied such an absurd confluence of energy and her footing tilting and rocking beneath her, her eyes remained locked on Weiss as they began their descent

Weiss had been under Ozpin even longer than Blake had. She knew as well as she did what he could do, even if the reveal of his semblance was a surprise. There was another angle to this. Some other….

"So having lived in the man's head, allow me to certify you won't have to worry about him toeing the line. Consider the Schnee whelp a token of our fidelity. And if you're ever harboring doubts as to anyone under your banner's loyalty again, it might interest you to know my semblance makes it highly difficult to keep a secret from me."

It wasn't even a thought that followed; It was pure instinct that had her vanish in a blur of motion much like her Lord amidst the elemental carnage above as she moved to slam into Carnelian with her arm pressed against his neck and her other hand attempting to pin his arm against the Manta that was in a spiral towards the ocean.

"No secrets, huh?"

Bear gave her a frustrated growl from where he was helping Greki to her feet in the back. "Now is not the time, Hand-"

"The loyal have nothing to fear below." Blake said solemnly, her eyes burning into Carnelian's.

"Do you?"

 

[Gus Gungus]

It wasn't even a thought that followed; It was pure instinct that had her vanish in a blur of motion much like her Lord amidst the elemental carnage above as she moved to slam into Carnelian with her arm pressed against his neck and her other hand attempting to pin his arm against the Manta that was in a spiral towards the ocean.

"No secrets, huh?"

Bear gave her a frustrated growl from where he was helping Greki to her feet in the back. "Now is not the time, Hand-"

"The loyal have nothing to fear below." Blake said solemnly, her eyes burning into Carnelian's.

"Do you?"

Blake learned something interesting about Carnelian's fallibility that day as the sudden, instinctual ambush appeared to slip past the wizened killer's radar in all the chaos. His grunt was one of minor bewilderment when he was shoved against the wall, intercepted from the brisk stride he'd made for the back of the Manta as soon as it started to spin out, but it became apparent a Carnelian without the benefit of foresight was still one more than prepared to defend himself as the hand she tried to pin down broke loose with a whir of artificial tendons and snatched her throat in turn. The hateful, toothy sneer he broke out in belied the intensity of the exchange and sent waves of revulsion running down Blake's shoulders, but somehow despite that there was an element of sincere, casual cordiality to the tone he spoke with when he gave his reply.



It was a tone that felt even more ill-suited once the words themselves crystallized.

"That's right, Blake Belladonna. Daughter of Ghira and Kali Belladonna, scratching post of Sienna Khan, favorite food tuna, least favorite animal dog, who had her first date with the Taurus bitch on the edge of a waterfall when the moon was full and hates herself so bad she'd rather be dead than doing whatever the fuck it is she's doing now."

Carnelian liked to let on that his telepathic ability was low-level, mostly useful in a predictive capacity; but the words revealed more sinister truths about the violating amounts of information he was capable of harvesting from those around him all at once, all the time. Turned out the human (or faunus) mind was a pretty amazing thing when you knew the ins and outs of it. He leaned forward, sneer building into a full-fledged, savage grin, like he was egging her on to do whatever she was thinking about doing. Which, of course, he was fully aware of.

"No secrets."

Before it could escalate any further, a very angry, very flustered Dragon whose efforts to bank wildly left and right in a bid to wrench back some kind of control over the Manta's tailspin had instead basically barrel rolled them into a freefall whirled around, looking for an outlet.



"HEY YOU THINK YOU TWO DICKWADS COULD CHILL THE FUCK OUT FOR FIVE SECONDS WE DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR THE WHOLE FUCKING RACE WAR TO KICK OFF AGAIN RIGHT NOW OKAY-"

SPLASH

"Beautiful." In contrast to his tendency to go on at length, as he observed that wall of pale icy blue stretching up into the sky, that was all he said about it. There was no worry in his voice about the multitude of glyphs, no concern or fear or anything resembling them apparent in either his voice or on his face. There was only appreciation as he took in the sight. That look remained present the whole time, even up to the moment the barrage got unleashed upon him. It was impossible to say whether that expression remained after that. The thunderous assault obscured the grimm master, the barrage of rainbow streaks that buried his general location just as pleasant to look at. There was no sound at all from his end as the sizzle of the blasts tore through the sky, as they impacted like thunder and threw up tons of hazy, almost black smoke.

When the assault finally let up, and silence took its place...it was an eerie one. There were no sounds of pain, no sign that a counterattack was imminent. There was just silence, a tense quiet that lingered for a little over a minute. It was only then that the silence was broken, by a single thud. And then another, and another, and on, until Ozpin's stride took him out of the smoke produced by the absolutely ferocious assault. As he stepped into sight again, one thing was immediately and evidently clear.

There was no sign of injury, not so much as even a single bruise, scratch or burn.

"Oh, Weiss." He shook his head, ending with it tilted to the side slightly in profound disappointment. "Was that really the best you could do?"

"What complete hogwash."

Strong language? Maybe, but in her mind it was warranted. It shouldn't have been like this. The magic carried by Salem and Ozpin through the generations was finite; it didn't renew itself like the blessing of the maidens did with each new host. Based on eyewitness accounts and the limited footage of Beacon's headmistress in combat over the years, Weiss felt confident in venturing her power had waned to the point she would've had her hands full with a single skilled maiden. Ozpin was fearsome, but that fear was typically achieved through shows of force pertaining to his control over Grimm; he shouldn't have been this strong. Nobody should've been this strong. How could there have been this large of a gap between them? It was obscene. It wasn't even a gap. It was a chasm.

Oh well. Weiss would've been the first to admit she was the out-of-her-depth idiot everyone seemed to think she was had being outclassed not been an eventuality she prepared for. This was fine. It just required certain... adjustments. It wouldn't be much longer, anyway. She held her nerve and had already curbed her incredulity enough to move by the time Ozpin spoke, wrenching Myrtenaster from the ground in an elegant twirl that lent momentum to the two glyphs she conjured to propel her back and away from-

He didn't give her time to answer. The spot where he just stood was nearly empty, the man moving so fast there was a brief afterimage left in his wake, swift movement that rivalled if not surpassed speeds either Ruby or Harriet could boast of. Weiss didn't get to take that in at length, as before her eyes could fully lock on to where he was now, there was a hand gripping her tight by the throat and slowly tightening further, crushing the air out of her. He lifted her up with one arm until their eyes were level.

"It may have been premature of me to say that I was impressed by you." He spat with thinly veiled disgust. "I could just crush your neck entirely right now. Perhaps I should...what do you think? Go on, say something. Best as you can manage. Something clever, perhaps? A scathing insult? I'm waiting with bated breath."

Spoiler: Confirming that Weiss's destiny is to eventually eat shit no matter what universe

-away from absolutely nothing, apparently, as her quarry caught up to her blur in a quicker one and wrenched her back so sharply she was positive she had whiplash. She gave a sharp cry of strangled dismay, eyes softening and legs kicking fruitlessly at Ozpin's shins as the difference in height meant her feet left the ground, and though her fingers scratched and pried at a grip on her throat far more constricting than Yang's or her father's had ever been it was to no avail as she instead tried to place glyphs between his hand and her neck as a buffer against the pressure.

"Gk-Get off me!" She wheezed, lack of oxygen making her sound far less confident than she wanted. Myrtenaster had been knocked from her grasp, so it seemed as if her only recourse for now was to continue to kick, squirm, and just outright sock Ozpin in the face a few times as her nails switched to trying to gouge his eye. And since he asked so nicely, there was something she had been dying to say to him ever since his very first display of whatever sick, perverted sentimentality he liked to reserve for his 'lieutenants', provided they were young and female.



"I don't... care... about your approval... you... nnk... are not... my father!"

Then she did something strange, uncouth, and quite possibly highly regrettable.

She spat in his face.

Then laughed. It was a faint, bitter sound; Hardly the most appropriate course of action for one in her delicate position, her lungs starved and the strength of her meager resistance waning, but it was the one she chose. Provided any sense of curiosity, astonishment, or a desire to inflict a slower death kept him from making good on his threat right there and then, when next Weiss spoke for all the world it was as though she wholeheartedly believed herself to be the one in a position to gloat, Ozpin the one who needed to consider his next actions very, very carefully.

"In fact... if you'd been a bit more attentive of your actual children... and less concerned with lording your superiority over me... then it's entirely possible you could've prevented this from happening. Idiot."

God, she'd been waiting so long to call him that. If nothing else, if those were to be her final words she was content with them.





A streak of red and black crossed Ozpin's peripheral. If he turned his head to look, it was just in time to witness something crash land a short distance away from them, tumbling once, then twice, then laying still. It was a griffon, just one among legions of flying Grimm swarming through the plumes of darkness surrounding Monstra—as loyal a beast as any, but neither particularly old nor powerful.

The most noteworthy thing about this one was that something was wrong with it.

Sickness was not a phenomenon Ozpin had observed before in his brood. The diseases and plagues of Remnant held no sway over the foreign, unnatural lifeform of Grimm. Yet here this one lay, an apparent exception, because sick was the only word to describe what it was. Its breathing was erratic, its hide a sickly color; varicose veins a deep, throbbing jade were breaking out all across the surface of its flesh, a few swelling up into sores and lesions that leaked ooze that appeared to be in the process of blanching that same mottled green. Its breathing slowed, then stopped, and for a brief moment it would've been fair to assume it was dead.

Until it came alive. Violently. It was a tangle of limbs, claws, and wings as it bucked and shrieked, thrashing around impotently on its back like a tarantula in a microwave. Any efforts by Ozpin to reach into its mind, to calm it or exert control, were like trying to use a megaphone at a heavy metal concert; drowned out by whatever fits of pain, fear, and confusion the poor creature was currently in the throes of.

Then, suddenly, silence. The griffon's flailing gradually lessened, and within moments it was limp once more. The screaming, tearing agony that had been rolling from its mind in waves faded out until it was nothing more than dead air, and as far as Ozpin's influence over them was concerned the Grimm in front of him was dead.

Which meant it was all the more unusual when, slowly but surely, it got up.

It was immediately obvious that something was still off. Its movements were sluggish and uncoordinated, its every joint cracking loudly in protest. It wasn't moving like a Grimm; there was none of that predatory grace masking hints of primal intelligence. It was twitching erratically, for one, and more than anything it just looked... unhinged.

That wasn't all. When it swiveled towards Ozpin, head cocked and jaw loose at an unnatural angle, it wasn't looking at him the way a Grimm should have. There was no recognition there. No deference or respect. Only curiosity.

And hunger.

It took a step towards him, then another, and by the third something had become perfectly apparent.

It wasn't listening to him.

Any further efforts to bring it to heel or bend it to his will were being ignored, and if he reached out to touch its consciousness with his own what awaited was something so frenzied, distorted and reduced to its most base elements it was practically unrecognizable. Hunt. Attack. Kill. Feed. That was all this creature understood. It was too simple to even be called Grimm; too simple to know what it wanted to feed on.

But it certainly seemed interested in giving its former master a try.

Another griffon crashed in a heap near it, already midway through a similar process. Behind it, a manticore; behind that, a sphinx. A flock of small Nevermore appeared to have turned on one another mid-flight, the ones still tinted red squawking in confusion as they were swarmed and ripped apart by their own brethren, already spasming and breaking out in those same green hives. All around the whale Grimm were dropping out of the air like flies, the sky awash with their berserk, discordant screeches of agony, and as they watched it all unfold Weiss's face wore the strangest expression of pride, ill-befitting such a grisly scene. She giggled again, possibly a bit lightheaded from oxygen deprivation at this point, and for the first time seemed happy to play the part of the vacuous daughter Ozpin always wanted her to be as she cast a look around in mock wonder.



"My. That's unusual, isn't it? They're certainly not supposed to be doing that. In other news, does this rain look a bit green to you? Or is that just your face? Adoring the look on it right now, by the way."

Inadvisable taunts aside, now that she mentioned it... it was true. The steady rainfall that had started with the storm Weiss called at the beginning of their confrontation was heavy, and he could see it in the pools starting to form in the craters of blubber gouged out of the whale by her absurd bombardment from before; a faint, sickly shade of green. More concerning still was the way the rainwater seemed to be reacting now that it was making contact with the whale's unprotected flesh. Curls of steam wafted up from the pits, a low, steady hiss accompanying them as the water catalyzed what could only be described as a reaction of some sort with the Grimm's biomass. Frankly, whatever it was wasn't really in Ozpin's wheelhouse. Magic was his science; the science of the gods, and the only one he ever needed to shape his creations.

But to Weiss? She may not have been any kind of expert herself, but in Atlas science was scripture. It was everything. Not for one second had she ever believed victory against Ozpin was going to be achieved by stepping into his world, by wielding the same sort of power he had a thousand years of practice with against him.

Her lower lip curled, a scornful affectation of sympathy. The blade she wielded gleamed, its twin auxiliary barrels burning a stark green as lightning started to rumble in the clouds around them, a sudden downpour sweeping across the area and making her hair slick with moisture.

No, her best chance was getting the smartest person she could find, locking him in a basement and throwing money and resources at him until he achieved results. So that, very literally, was exactly what she did. It was Maria Calavera, ironically, one of Ozpin's own most twisted creations, who proved to be the key to everything; her unique physiology, essentially a receptacle for a multitude of diverse Grimm species all occupying the same body, had accelerated Merlot's research by lightyears. What he was able to achieve with her while Weiss kept the two of them on the backbench, out of sight and out of mind, had been distilled, reworked and perfected until what remained was a weaponized variant of the purest, most virulent strain of Merlot's serum conceivable.

After that feat of scientific brilliance it had been a relatively simple matter to blend the serum with wind dust, to be disseminated via rainfall and the clouds Ozpin's own Grimm soared freely through when the day of reckoning finally came. As far as she was concerned, that day was here. Because when it came down to it, Ozpin only had one truly exploitable weakness.

Complacency. It was all but guaranteed when you were immortal; it was written all over the way he'd been treating her since the moment she set foot in this place. To him, humanity was nothing. Fragile, impermanent and small-minded witnesses to his eternal war with Salem, and nothing more. The man was the antithesis of progress. Of everything mankind had achieved in their own war against the Grimm, the one Salem and Ozpin considered themselves gods of when in reality they were merely generals.

It was never their war. It was one that had begun before them and would go on after them. One of adaptivity. Of survival.

If there was one thing their civilization had learned to do, it was survive. And the struggle for survival was something Ozpin knew nothing of.

Three things happened at once. First, the recently gestated no-longer-a-Griffon had relearned to gallop, and with a gauging beat of its wings propelled itself for Ozpin with a demonic gurgle, maw open.

Second, Weiss's palms flared as she thrust them both into her opponent's face, loosing some of the strongest, most searingly bright blasts she knew how to create, seeking to blind him if nothing else so she could get free.

And finally, the imposing Monstra they stood astride let loose a groan so loud it vibrated the eardrums and shook the waters below, its swaying rhythm through the air becoming jerky and erratic as those same veins and tumors started pocking even its mighty form. Ozpin himself could feel the pain resonating in its mind as the serum took effect, and with another anguished wail the behemoth, shuddered, slowed...

Then started to capsize.

---



Such was the sight afforded to anyone else scrambling for purchase atop the Manta far, far below, which rocked and bobbed vigorously but surprisingly managed to stay half-afloat in spite of the half the interior filling up with water. Some fancy flotation airbag mechanic all the latest Atlas models had in case of emergency, because of course they did. Yang assumed she was the only one strong enough to bounce Tiger's huge, beefy, probably-too-heavy-to-float and probably-too-fucked-to-swim ass out of the water, so she did, but promptly left the rest to fend for themselves as she hopped up to sit on the wing and started wringing her hair out, looking less than thrilled. A jet of seawater came out of her mouth.

"Fuckin' prude uptight motherfucker cockgobbling pussy hoity toity bitch, gonna last even less time up there than you do in bed you f-"

S̸̡̘͓̰̩̼̪͋͜K̵̥̮̫͊R̸̬͎̘͔̽̍͘Ë̶̘̗͈͓̲́̆͐͜͜Ȩ̷̬̝̣͈̠̼͙̽̃Ẹ̴̢̘̠̻̜̉̆̍̂̾͊͒̚͜Ế̵̡̼͓̝̖̹̯̗Ȇ̴̹̭̝̆̑̈́͠Ę̴̢̹̙͈̜̻̈́̄͂̓́͑͝Ȩ̴̛͔̰̻͖̳̔̓́͜E̷̢̛̊͗͐̌̌̊͠E̵̡̟̕ͅË̵̹̠̞̘̑ͅE̵̗̪͇̟̘̊̀̈́͑̐͝E̶̯̜͗̓̊̈́̄ͅE̷̢͔͇̙͖̣͉̿͛̌͌́͑Ẽ̸̛̞͓͔͍̣̣͐̔̀̾͘Ē̷̮̇̄͒͆̃̃͒Ĕ̷̢̠̘̞̯̬̋͛͑̃͒͗͜͝ͅE̶̦̠̹͊͗͛́̄Ȩ̴͍̦͕̀̓E̸̟͆E̶͍͆͑̌͛̾É̴͚̩̦̲͙̆ͅE̸̢͖̫͊̌E̷̢͎̲̳̮̹̭͑͐̐̊̓̈̃̈E̷̢̨̢̠̹̥̭̓̾̎̏̍̔͘͘͜Ę̸̮̋̑̅Ẽ̶̮̫̍̀̓̿̒͂E̴̦̮̊͊́̅͝͝E̸͇̼͍̯̣̿͛͌͛E̶̡̬̼͙̦̎͗̎̽̒̔̆E̸͙̬̔̋͘-



"-UUUUUCK ME!"

That, apparently, was the exact moment her arm chose to start going completely batshit insane. The limb, for lack of a better word, started spazzing out; tearing itself free of its bandages and flailing wildly like a cross between a Grimm and one of those inflatable tube guys, the fearsome Dragon looking almost comical for those few seconds as she pinwheeled her other arm to maintain balance and tried to grapple it back under control.

"Hey! HEY! What's wrong?! Cut that shit out! T-the fuck's your problem?!"

h̵u̵u̴u̴u̵u̴u̵u̶r̶r̷r̷r̶r̵r̴r̷t̵t̶t̵t̵t̵s̴s̷s̸s̸s̵s̸s̴s̴s̴s̶s̵s̵s̶s̴s̸s̵s̴s̷-

Yang liked to think she and lefty were close, but this bullshit was completely new to her, and it was a hell of a thing to have part of your own body start freaking out on you. Her eyes were slightly wide by the time she managed to reel most of the appendage in, but they went wider still when she caught a glimpse of the waters surrounding them.

The waves had been choppy, but they were outright violent now as aquatic grimm of all stripes thrashed, writhed, and screeched in similar fashion to her arm, more still dropping from the clouds above. She barely had time to digest it all when something occurred to her, her arm's pain swallowing qualities receding in the throes of its own agony.

This really fucking did hurt.

Considering the Dragon's complex relationship with pain, it spoke to just how much of it must have been hitting her all at once that there wasn't so much as a hint of pleasure in the screams she erupted into. Instead her shrieks were like a torture victim's, every bit as loud, agonized and wretched as those of the Grimm, and they didn't stop even when her eyes rolled into her head and she collapsed on her back, beginning to convulse.

Having been wrenched apart from Blake at the moment of impact, it was then that Carnelian clambered up onto the deck, perhaps surprisingly looking about as nonplussed by all this as anyone. For his part, he was still mostly acclimating to the world he'd stepped into, but had a look of guarded scrutiny on his face as he surveyed Yang, followed by the frenzied grimm, followed by the whale that appeared poised to fall out of the sky.



"You kids are into some crazy shit, huh?"​

 

[MyrtenRose]

-away from absolutely nothing, apparently, as her quarry caught up to her blur in a quicker one and wrenched her back so sharply she was positive she had whiplash. She gave a sharp cry of strangled dismay, eyes softening and legs kicking fruitlessly at Ozpin's shins as the difference in height meant her feet left the ground, and though her fingers scratched and pried at a grip on her throat far more constricting than Yang's or her father's had ever been it was to no avail as she instead tried to place glyphs between his hand and her neck as a buffer against the pressure.

"Gk-Get off me!" She wheezed, lack of oxygen making her sound far less confident than she wanted. Myrtenaster had been knocked from her grasp, so it seemed as if her only recourse for now was to continue to kick, squirm, and just outright sock Ozpin in the face a few times as her nails switched to trying to gouge his eye. And since he asked so nicely, there was something she had been dying to say to him ever since his very first display of whatever sick, perverted sentimentality he liked to reserve for his 'lieutenants', provided they were young and female.

"Oh I don't think I shall." Ozpin cruelly replied, any incoming punches batted away with the use of his free hand, the demented smile on his face from Weiss's desperation and helplessness growing larger with each passing second--​

"I don't... care... about your approval... you... nnk... are not... my father!"

Then she did something strange, uncouth, and quite possibly highly regrettable.

She spat in his face.

That expression was wiped away along with the spit that decorated his face for a moment, and the one that replaced it was one of utter rage, anger the likes of which seldom showed itself. Even those who felt defined by their rage would have felt outclassed in that moment, the terrifying visage would have gotten just about anybody to recoil in terror. The boldest among them would have likely faltered at the very least, many if not most would have turned and fled from how overwhelmingly horrifying it was to have a look like that directed at them, and the weakest among humanity and faunus both would have...well, if Lionheart had seen that and understood it was aimed at him, he most likely would have had a heart attack born of fear on the spot. "No, no I'm not." He hissed out in perhaps surprising agreement. "I'm not your father, because I am not some spineless and pathetic man who will be killed by you."​

Then laughed. It was a faint, bitter sound; Hardly the most appropriate course of action for one in her delicate position, her lungs starved and the strength of her meager resistance waning, but it was the one she chose. Provided any sense of curiosity, astonishment, or a desire to inflict a slower death kept him from making good on his threat right there and then, when next Weiss spoke for all the world it was as though she wholeheartedly believed herself to be the one in a position to gloat, Ozpin the one who needed to consider his next actions very, very carefully.

"In fact... if you'd been a bit more attentive of your actual children... and less concerned with lording your superiority over me... then it's entirely possible you could've prevented this from happening. Idiot."

God, she'd been waiting so long to call him that. If nothing else, if those were to be her final words she was content with them.

"Laugh while you can." Ozpin growled. His choking grip tightened even further. "Enjoy your last words while you can, and enjoy imagining the words I'll have put on your grave when--"​

A streak of red and black crossed Ozpin's peripheral. If he turned his head to look, it was just in time to witness something crash land a short distance away from them, tumbling once, then twice, then laying still. It was a griffon, just one among legions of flying Grimm swarming through the plumes of darkness surrounding Monstra—as loyal a beast as any, but neither particularly old nor powerful.

The most noteworthy thing about this one was that something was wrong with it.

Sickness was not a phenomenon Ozpin had observed before in his brood. The diseases and plagues of Remnant held no sway over the foreign, unnatural lifeform of Grimm. Yet here this one lay, an apparent exception, because sick was the only word to describe what it was. Its breathing was erratic, its hide a sickly color; varicose veins a deep, throbbing jade were breaking out all across the surface of its flesh, a few swelling up into sores and lesions that leaked ooze that appeared to be in the process of blanching that same mottled green. Its breathing slowed, then stopped, and for a brief moment it would've been fair to assume it was dead.

Until it came alive. Violently. It was a tangle of limbs, claws, and wings as it bucked and shrieked, thrashing around impotently on its back like a tarantula in a microwave. Any efforts by Ozpin to reach into its mind, to calm it or exert control, were like trying to use a megaphone at a heavy metal concert; drowned out by whatever fits of pain, fear, and confusion the poor creature was currently in the throes of.

Then, suddenly, silence. The griffon's flailing gradually lessened, and within moments it was limp once more. The screaming, tearing agony that had been rolling from its mind in waves faded out until it was nothing more than dead air, and as far as Ozpin's influence over them was concerned the Grimm in front of him was dead.

Which meant it was all the more unusual when, slowly but surely, it got up.

It was immediately obvious that something was still off. Its movements were sluggish and uncoordinated, its every joint cracking loudly in protest. It wasn't moving like a Grimm; there was none of that predatory grace masking hints of primal intelligence. It was twitching erratically, for one, and more than anything it just looked... unhinged.

That wasn't all. When it swiveled towards Ozpin, head cocked and jaw loose at an unnatural angle, it wasn't looking at him the way a Grimm should have. There was no recognition there. No deference or respect. Only curiosity.

And hunger.

It took a step towards him, then another, and by the third something had become perfectly apparent.

It wasn't listening to him.

Any further efforts to bring it to heel or bend it to his will were being ignored, and if he reached out to touch its consciousness with his own what awaited was something so frenzied, distorted and reduced to its most base elements it was practically unrecognizable. Hunt. Attack. Kill. Feed. That was all this creature understood. It was too simple to even be called Grimm; too simple to know what it wanted to feed on.

But it certainly seemed interested in giving its former master a try.

Another griffon crashed in a heap near it, already midway through a similar process. Behind it, a manticore; behind that, a sphinx. A flock of small Nevermore appeared to have turned on one another mid-flight, the ones still tinted red squawking in confusion as they were swarmed and ripped apart by their own brethren, already spasming and breaking out in those same green hives. All around the whale Grimm were dropping out of the air like flies, the sky awash with their berserk, discordant screeches of agony, and as they watched it all unfold Weiss's face wore the strangest expression of pride, ill-befitting such a grisly scene. She giggled again, possibly a bit lightheaded from oxygen deprivation at this point, and for the first time seemed happy to play the part of the vacuous daughter Ozpin always wanted her to be as she cast a look around in mock wonder.

That crash landing ripped his attention away from her, his grip softening to a degree as he looked over in confusion. He was completely silent for that whole display, could only watch as one of his grimm struggled in its death spasms, its dark hide cracking with a sickly green. The creature writhed in screeching pain and his attempt at influencing it to a more relaxed state accomplished as much as an umbrella would in the middle of a hurricane. The beast responded to nothing until it dropped, seemingly dead. But it didn't fade, and on the contrary, actually got back up. His control still didn't work then and the only thing he could sense within was a grimm so reduced to its base instincts that it was willing to make a go at devouring him.

Several other grimm followed behind, crashing in much of the same fashion as the first, undoubtedly suffering through the same process that plagued the griffon. His hand around Weiss's throat relaxed even more...for about a second before her laugh brought his focus back upon her and the grip got even tighter than it had been before.​

"My. That's unusual, isn't it? They're certainly not supposed to be doing that. In other news, does this rain look a bit green to you? Or is that just your face? Adoring the look on it right now, by the way."

"You. You...grrrrrrrrr!" It was a ferocious inhuman hiss, and his eyes glowed even brighter but they stared at Weiss for merely half a second longer before turning to scan the surroundings. Then those red eyes flared even further and intense winds that made the elemental control of most maidens pale in comparison buffeted out to dispel the storm that Weiss had used upon his army. The deed was done in moments, but the damage, too much damage, was already done. Harm that he had allowed this, this mocking child, to inflict while he gave her the chance to talk.​

Three things happened at once. First, the recently gestated no-longer-a-Griffon had relearned to gallop, and with a gauging beat of its wings propelled itself for Ozpin with a demonic gurgle, maw open.

Second, Weiss's palms flared as she thrust them both into her opponent's face, loosing some of the strongest, most searingly bright blasts she knew how to create, seeking to blind him if nothing else so she could get free.

And finally, the imposing Monstra they stood astride let loose a groan so loud it vibrated the eardrums and shook the waters below, its swaying rhythm through the air becoming jerky and erratic as those same veins and tumors started pocking its mighty form. Ozpin himself could feel the pain resonating in its mind as the serum took effect, and with another anguished wail the behemoth, shuddered, slowed...

Then started to capsize.

The rapidly approaching beast was no threat at all, under his influence or not, something made apparently clear by the simple blast any maiden could have accomplished utterly obliterated the corrupted grimm.

But that left him open to Weiss's desperate assault, and the sheer light behind did at the very least temporarily blind him, his grip relaxing enough for her to get out of it with enough effort. That assault and the fact that even the whale grimm began to shake from this strange affliction got even him to stumble. As it turned out, all of what Weiss had just unleashed only blinded him for as long as it took for several blinks of his eyes, but fortunately by the time his sight fully restored, his attention was not upon her then. It was on the gargantuan grimm he stood upon. Ozpin knelt and pressed both hands flat on the beast's back, his complete and utter focus on utilizing his magic to purge the beast of whatever this was that Weiss had brought down upon it. More than that, his concentration went out to every grimm in the area suffering from these effects, from the ones that had crashed upon the whale, to those plummeting in the water, to Yang's own arm.

No matter what it was, he was going to wipe it all out in one move. He had put too much effort, too much time in constructing this army, to lose it to the machinations of one traitorous, conniving, smug bitch.

He would make her suffer like none other after this was done.​

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

"KID!"

Char screamed but maybe it was a blessing in disguise. The kid was skilled. Maybe she could survive and get out of here. Take her friends with her and never look back. Forget about Mistral and all of the stuff that happened here. As for him and Blanche? Well, from what little he'd seen his partner/likely best friend hadn't been doing so hot. Finding himself struggling to breath with a vice grip around his throat, Char couldn't say he felt much better. The Boss's cold eyes with what appeared to be fragmented pupils stared down at Char and spoke calmly. As if all his earlier annoyance at Neo interfering had simply washed away.

"Now...there'll be no more interruptions. You'll die here."

Char closed his eyes and waited for the end to come.


Char was flung to the ground and Hush never connected.

It didn't even so much as come into contact with the Boss's aura.

Instead, Neo found herself once again swooped off her feet and caught in a mini cyclone that seemed to gestate from around the Boss's person himself. Given how he'd had to drop Char though it appeared that he needed to cease physical contact before the 'field' could be put up. Lest anything he was holding onto be flung away as well. Eventually, Neo would find herself once more thrown back harshly from the Boss's general vicinity. As the wind started to die down around him now that Neo had been tossed back, he didn't turn to face her. He only seemed to chuckle.

"What a utterly annoying nuisance you are, child. Illusions. Attempting to strike me as though I were just a common thug. Not once since I've made Mistal and it's people mine has anyone been able to lay so much as a finger on me. Not unless I've willed it. However tenacious you might be, you'll find I'm not one to entertain childness, my little neophyte." He finally stepped to the side and revealed why he didn't seem intent on going after Neo. Char was laying flat on his back with what appeared to be the outline of a knife given form by the blood dripping from Char's wound as he'd been directly stabbed in the side. "Run kid...Save yourself..." He pleaded.

"No, Char. I'm afraid it's too late for that..." The Boss began as he looked over his shoulder at Neo and kicked off the ground towards her. Knowing it was coming this time, Neo likely would have been able to stay standing on her own two feet as he blew past her. "She and her motley little crew of vermin were doomed the second they stuck their noses in my affairs.. and over what...A lowly animal!" He lashed out to try and grab Neo by the neck.

"Now it's time to pay your dues, you wretched little cur!"

The wind around Neo and the Boss was intense. You'd have needed something to lean on like Hush in it's closed up form or a wall to cling to in the midst of this brewing storm. He'd seen the illusion this child had been using shatter. If she tried to use one again then the wind would buffet it until it too broke before him. Just as all things did, as they all would. Of course, she could try to simply run and leave Char behind. He'd kill her later. There was no doubt of that. Given how she'd been fighting to protect the hitman, the Boss doubted the validity of that potential scenario. Which meant that his grip only got tighter. "You should never have come here..." He growled.

*BANG*

A shot clipped the wall beside the Boss. His head turned and then back in the direction of the shot. "What-"

Another shot came flying towards him and past the captive Neo. It'd ping his aura if he didn't...

With an aggravated yell, he flung Neo back near the injured Char. The field of wind around him picked back up and the bullet was sent flying back the way it'd came. Sailing past Abyss's neck and leaving her sweating. Whoever this guy was....That was one dangerous semblance.​

'This isn't GREAT-'

Neopolitan let out a rasp of a yelp as she found herself suddenly airborne and caught a cyclone like a three-tone Pomeranian shut into a drying machine. She didn't even try to right herself; she merely did her best to keep her eyes on the boss till he deigned to toss her away, and a freshly spin-cycled Neo landed with a graceful roll, her momentum coming to a halt with the aid of Hush' blade slammed into the ground as she growled just like one of those small dogs-

Her eyes shot wide as she caught sight of Char, but before she could even take a step forwards she was buffeted by the winds yet again. Rather than try and fight it, she let it pick her up, and she seemed easy prey for the boss as he lunged forwards-

Only instead of her neck, he found herself gripping the middle of Hush instead, a flexible twist that would've made a gymnast blush twirling Neo up and over him as she put her weapon between them and started to use him as a pivot point to swing her foot in for a kick. The Boss' semblance was incredibly powerful, far and away more dangerous than Neo's. Yet she had a lot practice against a very similar semblance....

Neo was wily, but Glynda had been teaching the illusionist for over a year now. She'd been subjected to most of Neopolitan's tricks, and had even inspired/forced Neo to come up with some new ones on the fly on occasion. Years from now, Neo would appreciate these little games, and how they helped her further develop her repertoire of devious smokescreens and befuddling twists.

It was not years from now, however, and she sucked in a breath of dismay as she and Roman turned a corner into a dead end of a locked classroom door, and she turned around with a sullen huff as Glynda's heels clacked to a halt behind them.

"Do you two have anything to say for yourselves?"

"..."

Even Glynda had the grace to clear her throat at her choice of words, but she turned her glare onto Torchwick instead. "You, then?"

Torchwick didn't respond.

Which is the exact moment she knew that it couldn't possibly be the real Torchwick, and she whirled just in time to see the duo juuuust short of sneaking around the corner. She flicked her weapon, and Neo let out a quiet eep of surprise as she was was suddenly hoisted into the air by her feet, her boots glowing with the purple of Glynda's telekinesis. Glynda glowered at her, and Neo glowered back, at least a little annoyed at being caught. Besides, they weren't even students anymore! The girl's form was replaced by a decrepit old man, who pointed his finger at glynda and mouthed the words

Glynda arched an eyebrow, and thats when the lecture began. And this time Neo couldn't escape

Maybe it wasn't years later, but Neo suddenly did feel grateful for the year of detentions, narrow escapes, and far more captures at the hands of Beacon's most feared teacher's semblance. She was, genuinely, used to being tossed around like an adorably lethal frisbee. Violently, on occasion.

She'd very much been a, quote unquote, 'problem student'. Sometimes a little teacher on student violence was not only justified, but necessary.

Whether the kick connected or not, she found herself flung back in the other direction, and landed with a stumble on both feet, more cat than pomeranian this time as she carried the momentum forward to land next to Char with a worried frown. She was already slipping her jacket off by the time her momentum stopped, and while the boss was dealing with whoever the hell had decided that this was their moment to open fire on some lunatic serial killer, she used her jacket to wrap Char's wound to try and staunch the bleeding.

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

Blake learned something interesting about Carnelian's fallibility that day as the sudden, instinctual ambush appeared to slip past the wizened killer's radar in all the chaos. His grunt was one of minor bewilderment when he was shoved against the wall, intercepted from the brisk stride he'd made for the back of the Manta as soon as it started to spin out, but it became apparent a Carnelian without the benefit of foresight was still one more than prepared to defend himself as the hand she tried to pin down broke loose with a whir of artificial tendons and snatched her throat in turn. The hateful, toothy sneer he broke out in belied the intensity of the exchange and sent waves of revulsion running down Blake's shoulders, but somehow despite that there was an element of sincere, casual cordiality to the tone he spoke with when he gave his reply.

View attachment 830108

It was a tone that felt even more ill-suited once the words themselves crystallized.

"That's right, Blake Belladonna. Daughter of Ghira and Kali Belladonna, scratching post of Sienna Khan, favorite food tuna, least favorite animal dog, who had her first date with the Taurus bitch on the edge of a waterfall when the moon was full and hates herself so bad she'd rather be dead than doing whatever the fuck it is she's doing now."

Carnelian liked to let on that his telepathic ability was low-level, mostly useful in a predictive capacity; but the words revealed more sinister truths about the violating amounts of information he was capable of harvesting from those around him all at once, all the time. Turned out the human (or faunus) mind was a pretty amazing thing when you knew the ins and outs of it. He leaned forward, sneer building into a full-fledged, savage grin, like he was egging her on to do whatever she was thinking about doing. Which, of course, he was fully aware of.

"No secrets."

Before it could escalate any further, a very angry, very flustered Dragon whose efforts to bank wildly left and right in a bid to wrench back some kind of control over the Manta's tailspin had instead basically barrel rolled them into a freefall whirled around, looking for an outlet.

View attachment 830101

"HEY YOU THINK YOU TWO DICKWADS COULD CHILL THE FUCK OUT FOR FIVE SECONDS WE DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR THE WHOLE FUCKING RACE WAR TO KICK OFF AGAIN RIGHT NOW OKAY-"

SPLASH




View attachment 829912

"What complete hogwash."

Strong language? Maybe, but in her mind it was warranted. It shouldn't have been like this. The magic carried by Salem and Ozpin through the generations was finite; it didn't renew itself like the blessing of the maidens did with each new host. Based on eyewitness accounts and the limited footage of Beacon's headmistress in combat over the years, Weiss felt confident in venturing her power had waned to the point she would've had her hands full with a single skilled maiden. Ozpin was fearsome, but that fear was typically achieved through shows of force pertaining to his control over Grimm; he shouldn't have been this strong. Nobody should've been this strong. How could there have been this large of a gap between them? It was obscene. It wasn't even a gap. It was a chasm.

Oh well. Weiss would've been the first to admit she was the out-of-her-depth idiot everyone seemed to think she was had being outclassed not been an eventuality she prepared for. This was fine. It just required certain... adjustments. It wouldn't be much longer, anyway. She held her nerve and had already curbed her incredulity enough to move by the time Ozpin spoke, wrenching Myrtenaster from the ground in an elegant twirl that lent momentum to the two glyphs she conjured to propel her back and away from-

Spoiler: Confirming that Weiss's destiny is to eventually eat shit no matter what universe

View attachment 829942

-away from absolutely nothing, apparently, as her quarry caught up to her blur in a quicker one and wrenched her back so sharply she was positive she had whiplash. She gave a sharp cry of strangled dismay, eyes softening and legs kicking fruitlessly at Ozpin's shins as the difference in height meant her feet left the ground, and though her fingers scratched and pried at a grip on her throat far more constricting than Yang's or her father's had ever been it was to no avail as she instead tried to place glyphs between his hand and her neck as a buffer against the pressure.

"Gk-Get off me!" She wheezed, lack of oxygen making her sound far less confident than she wanted. Myrtenaster had been knocked from her grasp, so it seemed as if her only recourse for now was to continue to kick, squirm, and just outright sock Ozpin in the face a few times as her nails switched to trying to gouge his eye. And since he asked so nicely, there was something she had been dying to say to him ever since his very first display of whatever sick, perverted sentimentality he liked to reserve for his 'lieutenants', provided they were young and female.

View attachment 829957

"I don't... care... about your approval... you... nnk... are not... my father!"

Then she did something strange, uncouth, and quite possibly highly regrettable.

She spat in his face.

Then laughed. It was a faint, bitter sound; Hardly the most appropriate course of action for one in her delicate position, her lungs starved and the strength of her meager resistance waning, but it was the one she chose. Provided any sense of curiosity, astonishment, or a desire to inflict a slower death kept him from making good on his threat right there and then, when next Weiss spoke for all the world it was as though she wholeheartedly believed herself to be the one in a position to gloat, Ozpin the one who needed to consider his next actions very, very carefully.

"In fact... if you'd been a bit more attentive of your actual children... and less concerned with lording your superiority over me... then it's entirely possible you could've prevented this from happening. Idiot."

God, she'd been waiting so long to call him that. If nothing else, if those were to be her final words she was content with them.





A streak of red and black crossed Ozpin's peripheral. If he turned his head to look, it was just in time to witness something crash land a short distance away from them, tumbling once, then twice, then laying still. It was a griffon, just one among legions of flying Grimm swarming through the plumes of darkness surrounding Monstra—as loyal a beast as any, but neither particularly old nor powerful.

The most noteworthy thing about this one was that something was wrong with it.

Sickness was not a phenomenon Ozpin had observed before in his brood. The diseases and plagues of Remnant held no sway over the foreign, unnatural lifeform of Grimm. Yet here this one lay, an apparent exception, because sick was the only word to describe what it was. Its breathing was erratic, its hide a sickly color; varicose veins a deep, throbbing jade were breaking out all across the surface of its flesh, a few swelling up into sores and lesions that leaked ooze that appeared to be in the process of blanching that same mottled green. Its breathing slowed, then stopped, and for a brief moment it would've been fair to assume it was dead.

Until it came alive. Violently. It was a tangle of limbs, claws, and wings as it bucked and shrieked, thrashing around impotently on its back like a tarantula in a microwave. Any efforts by Ozpin to reach into its mind, to calm it or exert control, were like trying to use a megaphone at a heavy metal concert; drowned out by whatever fits of pain, fear, and confusion the poor creature was currently in the throes of.

Then, suddenly, silence. The griffon's flailing gradually lessened, and within moments it was limp once more. The screaming, tearing agony that had been rolling from its mind in waves faded out until it was nothing more than dead air, and as far as Ozpin's influence over them was concerned the Grimm in front of him was dead.

Which meant it was all the more unusual when, slowly but surely, it got up.

It was immediately obvious that something was still off. Its movements were sluggish and uncoordinated, its every joint cracking loudly in protest. It wasn't moving like a Grimm; there was none of that predatory grace masking hints of primal intelligence. It was twitching erratically, for one, and more than anything it just looked... unhinged.

That wasn't all. When it swiveled towards Ozpin, head cocked and jaw loose at an unnatural angle, it wasn't looking at him the way a Grimm should have. There was no recognition there. No deference or respect. Only curiosity.

And hunger.

It took a step towards him, then another, and by the third something had become perfectly apparent.

It wasn't listening to him.

Any further efforts to bring it to heel or bend it to his will were being ignored, and if he reached out to touch its consciousness with his own what awaited was something so frenzied, distorted and reduced to its most base elements it was practically unrecognizable. Hunt. Attack. Kill. Feed. That was all this creature understood. It was too simple to even be called Grimm; too simple to know what it wanted to feed on.

But it certainly seemed interested in giving its former master a try.

Another griffon crashed in a heap near it, already midway through a similar process. Behind it, a manticore; behind that, a sphinx. A flock of small Nevermore appeared to have turned on one another mid-flight, the ones still tinted red squawking in confusion as they were swarmed and ripped apart by their own brethren, already spasming and breaking out in those same green hives. All around the whale Grimm were dropping out of the air like flies, the sky awash with their berserk, discordant screeches of agony, and as they watched it all unfold Weiss's face wore the strangest expression of pride, ill-befitting such a grisly scene. She giggled again, possibly a bit lightheaded from oxygen deprivation at this point, and for the first time seemed happy to play the part of the vacuous daughter Ozpin always wanted her to be as she cast a look around in mock wonder.

View attachment 830067

"My. That's unusual, isn't it? They're certainly not supposed to be doing that. In other news, does this rain look a bit green to you? Or is that just your face? Adoring the look on it right now, by the way."

Inadvisable taunts aside, now that she mentioned it... it was true. The steady rainfall that had started with the storm Weiss called at the beginning of their confrontation was heavy, and he could see it in the pools starting to form in the craters of blubber gouged out of the whale by her absurd bombardment from before; a faint, sickly shade of green. More concerning still was the way the rainwater seemed to be reacting now that it was making contact with the whale's unprotected flesh. Curls of steam wafted up from the pits, a low, steady hiss accompanying them as the water catalyzed what could only be described as a reaction of some sort with the Grimm's biomass. Frankly, whatever it was wasn't really in Ozpin's wheelhouse. Magic was his science; the science of the gods, and the only one he ever needed to shape his creations.

But to Weiss? She may not have been any kind of expert herself, but in Atlas science was scripture. It was everything. Not for one second had she ever believed victory against Ozpin was going to be achieved by stepping into his world, by wielding the same sort of power he had a thousand years of practice with against him.





No, her best chance was getting the smartest person she could find, locking him in a basement and throwing money and resources at him until he achieved results. So that, very literally, was exactly what she did. It was Maria Calavera, ironically, one of Ozpin's own most twisted creations, who proved to be the key to everything; her unique physiology, essentially a receptacle for a multitude of diverse Grimm species all occupying the same body, had accelerated Merlot's research by lightyears. What he was able to achieve with her while Weiss kept the two of them on the backbench, out of sight and out of mind, had been distilled, reworked and perfected until what remained was a weaponized variant of the purest, most virulent strain of Merlot's serum conceivable.

After that feat of scientific brilliance it had been a relatively simple matter to blend the serum with wind dust, to be disseminated via rainfall and the clouds Ozpin's own Grimm soared freely through when the day of reckoning finally came. As far as she was concerned, that day was here. Because when it came down to it, Ozpin only had one truly exploitable weakness.

Complacency. It was all but guaranteed when you were immortal; it was written all over the way he'd been treating her since the moment she set foot in this place. To him, humanity was nothing. Fragile, impermanent and small-minded witnesses to his eternal war with Salem, and nothing more. The man was the antithesis of progress. Of everything mankind had achieved in their own war against the Grimm, the one Salem and Ozpin considered themselves gods of when in reality they were merely generals.

It was never their war. It was one that had begun before them and would go on after them. One of adaptivity. Of survival.

If there was one thing their civilization had learned to do, it was survive. And the struggle for survival was something Ozpin knew nothing of.

Three things happened at once. First, the recently gestated no-longer-a-Griffon had relearned to gallop, and with a gauging beat of its wings propelled itself for Ozpin with a demonic gurgle, maw open.

Second, Weiss's palms flared as she thrust them both into her opponent's face, loosing some of the strongest, most searingly bright blasts she knew how to create, seeking to blind him if nothing else so she could get free.

And finally, the imposing Monstra they stood astride let loose a groan so loud it vibrated the eardrums and shook the waters below, its swaying rhythm through the air becoming jerky and erratic as those same veins and tumors started pocking even its mighty form. Ozpin himself could feel the pain resonating in its mind as the serum took effect, and with another anguished wail the behemoth, shuddered, slowed...

Then started to capsize.

---

View attachment 830102

Such was the sight afforded to anyone else scrambling for purchase atop the Manta far, far below, which rocked and bobbed vigorously but surprisingly managed to stay half-afloat in spite of the half the interior filling up with water. Some fancy flotation airbag mechanic all the latest Atlas models had in case of emergency, because of course they did. Yang assumed she was the only one strong enough to bounce Tiger's huge, beefy, probably-too-heavy-to-float and probably-too-fucked-to-swim ass out of the water, so she did, but promptly left the rest to fend for themselves as she hopped up to sit on the wing and started wringing her hair out, looking less than thrilled. A jet of seawater came out of her mouth.

"Fuckin' prude uptight motherfucker cockgobbling pussy hoity toity bitch, gonna last even less time up there than you do in bed you f-"

S̸̡̘͓̰̩̼̪͋͜K̵̥̮̫͊R̸̬͎̘͔̽̍͘Ë̶̘̗͈͓̲́̆͐͜͜Ȩ̷̬̝̣͈̠̼͙̽̃Ẹ̴̢̘̠̻̜̉̆̍̂̾͊͒̚͜Ế̵̡̼͓̝̖̹̯̗Ȇ̴̹̭̝̆̑̈́͠Ę̴̢̹̙͈̜̻̈́̄͂̓́͑͝Ȩ̴̛͔̰̻͖̳̔̓́͜E̷̢̛̊͗͐̌̌̊͠E̵̡̟̕ͅË̵̹̠̞̘̑ͅE̵̗̪͇̟̘̊̀̈́͑̐͝E̶̯̜͗̓̊̈́̄ͅE̷̢͔͇̙͖̣͉̿͛̌͌́͑Ẽ̸̛̞͓͔͍̣̣͐̔̀̾͘Ē̷̮̇̄͒͆̃̃͒Ĕ̷̢̠̘̞̯̬̋͛͑̃͒͗͜͝ͅE̶̦̠̹͊͗͛́̄Ȩ̴͍̦͕̀̓E̸̟͆E̶͍͆͑̌͛̾É̴͚̩̦̲͙̆ͅE̸̢͖̫͊̌E̷̢͎̲̳̮̹̭͑͐̐̊̓̈̃̈E̷̢̨̢̠̹̥̭̓̾̎̏̍̔͘͘͜Ę̸̮̋̑̅Ẽ̶̮̫̍̀̓̿̒͂E̴̦̮̊͊́̅͝͝E̸͇̼͍̯̣̿͛͌͛E̶̡̬̼͙̦̎͗̎̽̒̔̆E̸͙̬̔̋͘-

View attachment 830105

"-UUUUUCK ME!"

That, apparently, was the exact moment her arm chose to start going completely batshit insane. The limb, for lack of a better word, started spazzing out; tearing itself free of its bandages and flailing wildly like a cross between a Grimm and one of those inflatable tube guys, the fearsome Dragon looking almost comical for those few seconds as she pinwheeled her other arm to maintain balance and tried to grapple it back under control.

"Hey! HEY! What's wrong?! Cut that shit out! T-the fuck's your problem?!"

h̵u̵u̴u̴u̵u̴u̵u̶r̶r̷r̷r̶r̵r̴r̷t̵t̶t̵t̵t̵s̴s̷s̸s̸s̵s̸s̴s̴s̴s̶s̵s̵s̶s̴s̸s̵s̴s̷-

Yang liked to think she and lefty were close, but this bullshit was completely new to her, and it was a hell of a thing to have part of your own body start freaking out on you. Her eyes were slightly wide by the time she managed to reel most of the appendage in, but they went wider still when she caught a glimpse of the waters surrounding them.

The waves had been choppy, but they were outright violent now as aquatic grimm of all stripes thrashed, writhed, and screeched in similar fashion to her arm, more still dropping from the clouds above. She barely had time to digest it all when something occurred to her, her arm's pain swallowing qualities receding in the throes of its own agony.

This really fucking did hurt.

Considering the Dragon's complex relationship with pain, it spoke to just how much of it must have been hitting her all at once that there wasn't so much as a hint of pleasure in the screams she erupted into. Instead her shrieks were like a torture victim's, every bit as loud, agonized and wretched as those of the Grimm, and they didn't stop even when her eyes rolled into her head and she collapsed on her back, beginning to convulse.

Having been wrenched apart from Blake at the moment of impact, it was then that Carnelian clambered up onto the deck, perhaps surprisingly looking about as nonplussed by all this as anyone. For his part, he was still mostly acclimating to the world he'd stepped into, but had a look of guarded scrutiny on his face as he surveyed Yang, followed by the frenzied grimm, followed by the whale that appeared poised to fall out of the sky.

View attachment 830114

"You kids are into some crazy shit, huh?"​

Somehow, even when exiting the churning waters of an ocean now filled to the brim with monsters on the brink of insanity, Blake was so deathy silent exiting the waters that it was like she simply appeared on the deck herself, masked eyes taking in the carnage surrounding them and in the sky, Carnelian privy to how her mind shifted gears; painfully efficient for someone who's emotional spectrum had been so erratic over the last few days.

He was still a priority. His loyalty was still in question

He was just no longer the only one.

Bear breached the water almost silently as his pupil, though it was harder to mask his boarding as the entire manta shifted and bobbed as he clambered aboard. Roaring Claw's grip dripped with oily, damp ash that was fading away already, purporting the reason for his late return, his countenance grim.

Greki was far less graceful. She surfaced for a moment in a flurry of stabs and roars "FUCKINflroguh-" She sunk back into the water "-GOD DAMN COCK SUCKING- ARGH!" She burst from the surface and onto the deck still mid grapple with what could only be called a grimm shark, her metal claws caught on either side of its maw and her arms shaking with effort, her aura flaring from the pressure until Roaring Claw crashed into the beast's back in a spine shattering crunch. Greki gave a massive sigh as she flopped back down onto her back, content to just lay there until the grimm fully faded away.

"Boss,-"

"Not now Wo-"

"-No no, its now. y'all don't pay me 'nough for this. Seriously. I'm gonna quit."

"...Noted. You'll get a raise or I'll kill you when we're done here. Your choice"

The wolf faunus made a noncommittal grunt that belied just how god damn confused and terrified she was with all of this, as Blake rose to her feet, Gambol flipping into her hand and shifting into chain-scythe mode.



"Bear. Wolf. Tiger. Defend the dragon. Watch Carnelian. If he so much as sneezes, end his miserable life."

Greki's eyes widened slightly in more external terror as they shifted over towards the general while she was still flat her her back, but she nonetheless gave a thumbs up before rolling to her feet. Bear didn't even bother voicing his agreement as he rose to his full stature, his wizened gaze sweeping across the waters; it seemed the grimm were mostly tearing into each other, but who knew when that would change? He did, however, have a question.

"What of you?"

Blake's answer was almost tired, but resolved.

"Trying to kill Weiss Schnee. Again."

There was a blast of gunfire as she whipped Gambol shroud into the air, and a passing Gryphon that had recovered before crashing into the waves found its neck leashed, held in place as the blade's final rotation buried itself in the monster's neck. It let out a gurgled screech and began to plummet, but not before the ribbon's pull tore Blake into the sky. As the beast faded and the ribbon came loose, Blake's momentum had begun to ebb, but a semblance dash sent her crashing into the underside of another airborne beast that shrieked in surprise and hunger as the Hand gripped its underside feathers and disappeared fully into the swarm, out of sight.