• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.
"...You expect me to believe that. Weiss Schnee, still with the power of two maidens at her beck and call, didn't intend to try anything. No Weiss. You've conditioned me far too well for that."

Her arm dropped from around her knee at the same time the smile dropped.

"You've spent the last year trying to convince me that you were my equal, my better, my superior. And you spent the last few days taking every inch I gave you and ripping me to shreds with it, when all you needed was a millimeter to do it. Doing everything in your power to make me see you as some unopposable force that I had no other options in the face of other than total submission. You killed, you maimed, you used my body like some little science project, for every little bit of advantage you could wring from me in a fight you'd already won."

She slowly uncoiled from her crouch off the floor and started to lope forward.

"I tried so hard not to underestimate you, Weiss, but I did. You took every choice I made and turned it into a wrong one, into your right one. From the relics, to Atlas falling under heel instead of burning, even ending up here, in front of Ozpin in chains, it was all part of the plan. I was never going to bend a knee to you Weiss, to submit, but you've earned my respect, and I've learned my lesson. I won't underestimate you again."

She knelt down scant inches from her master's new host, and twin flames of amber began to leak from her eyes as one hand moved to firmly grip Weiss' chin to force her to meet that gaze.

"And you want me to think you're helpless now. Just accept that this isn't all a big part of Weiss Schnee's plan. No. I may have minimized how dangerous you can be, may have ensured that every second you spend breathing isn't one my lord's designs are in immediate danger; but I know better than that. You've taught me better than that. Until you've disappeared completely, I'm going to treat you with the respect you've worked so hard to earn-"

Blake's hand suddenly caught flame, the fires licking uncomfortably close to Weiss' skin without ever touching it, an absurd display of control for someone who'd gotten the maiden powers not minutes ago.

"-As an enemy."


The forced realignment of her gaze proved necessary if Blake in any way wanted her point to land the way she meant it to, a consequence of the fact that barely a few words into the little spiel Weiss gave a tut so loud and droll she swore her enhanced ears heard echoes of it sass right up and down the corridor. There was something insolent about it, and in the way her gaze left the Hand's in favor of drifting back down to the floor, once more engaged in its faraway look of vacant, unresponsive despondence. Until she was quite literally forced to, she gave no further indication she was even listening to the Hand, apparently sublimely disinterested in devoting any more of her attention to Blake gloating at her or getting her deserved vindication or whatever this was supposed to be.

The small, porcelain chin that somehow looked so frail now jerked away from her hand a few times before she finally caught it, and only then did she finally, reluctantly give the faunus any measure of returned eye contact, eyes narrowing in concerted defiance as she waited for Blake to get it out of her system. To her credit, the flame erupting so close it made her eyes water didn't draw so much as a flinch from that patient glower, the most sign it had any effect it all the faint quiver Blake could feel in her jaw. But a tremble wasn't about to cow Weiss Schnee, and when she was through, she cleared her throat and prepared to do this one final time.

"Done? Good. Blake?"

She swatted the hand away.

"Get over yourself."

The way she said it made it perfectly apparent she felt it was something someone should've said to Blake Belladonna a long, long time ago, not that she believed for one second she was going to be receptive to it. It also wasn't really the kind of thing one wanted to say to a maiden bearing a grudge against them, but perhaps whatever lingering endorphins remained from defeating the inexorable lord of darkness (however temporarily) were making her bold.

"You're so ridiculous it's unbearable. What does it take to become Hand of the Shadow Fang these days, the lack of self-awareness or the ability to make anything sound convincing in your own ears? Honestly. You came to my city, primed to sow whatever chaos and destruction you deemed fit all in the name of your fetishized vendetta against me, all the while pumping your fist and stamping your feet and throwing your head back to the sky with shouts of 'Revolution!' like you're anything more than a trained attack dog at this point. And now you're casting aspersions on me because I didn't, what, let you? Or disarm you in a way that plays into this sad, deluded image of whatever 'fated rivalry' you believe you and I are supposed to have? Yes, Blake. I beat you. Cry harder. And now we're here, and you know what?"

She gave a minor, sarcastic flourish with her hands, glancing up and down the hall both ways as if waiting for some overarching rhyme or purpose to all this nonsense to emerge from around the corner. When none did, she went on, voice lifting above its quiet, scratchy notes of dejection for the first time in the conversation to instead fill with mock awe and wonderment at the lack thereof.

"That's all! I threw you in a cell, took drastic measures in case you ever broke out, and had every intention of throwing away the key and forgetting about you until all this was said and done and I could even begin to allocate the necessary mental faculties to contemplate what to do with you. Sorry, is that a disappointment? Is that not a good twist in whatever storybook you think all this is? Too bad. There's no grand design here, dear. You sound more paranoid and conspiratorial than I have at my absolute worst. You'd like to hear the truth from these lovely poisoned lips for a change? Fine. Have a dose of brutal honesty."

She glowered..

"You are NOT a priority to me, Blake Belladonna. You never have been. In fact, you're not a priority to anyone in all this. You were a distraction your lord and master sent to dash herself on the cliff-face that is Atlas in the hopes it'd soften me up for him in the coming war. You think the fact that I steamrolled you, put you through the meat grinder, violated every right you and your pack of assassins have over the last few days, what, vindicates you somehow? Makes you special?"

Her head shook scornfully, keeping time with a quiet, rueful laugh.

"I spent the last few months of my own sister's life doing the same thing to her. Among many, many other people I hold in far higher esteem than I do you. Why? Because that's what I convinced myself was necessary. I vindicated myself. And look where that got me. Well, that's done now. We're done. With... whatever this is," she sniffed, gaze flickering away again, the flap of the hand she gave in Blake's direction as dismissive and uninterested as if she were a particularly threatening piece of upholstery. "You can keep your respect. From the moment we met, I thought there was hope for you. I had hoped I might be able to do something for you one day, but I'm beginning to understand now that I am in no position to be offering help to anybody. Because I'm sick, Blake. And so are you. But you know what?"

She sneered, eyes flickering back, and for perhaps the final time Blake found herself under that intense, dissecting, shrewdly analytical Weiss Schnee microscope lens.

"I'm beginning to think you like being sick. Wobble your bottom lip with those misty eyes and wax poetic about how bad it makes you feel every time you kill and how this is 'the hardest thing you've ever had to do' all you want; I think it gives you an outlet. I think all the pain, grief, anger and guilt became too much for you to bear over the years, and this? This is the only relief you were ever able to find. You don't care about the fate of the faunus. There are a million faunus out there right now who'd give you a PowerPoint presentation on all the different ways this little crusade of yours has adversely affected their lives, and I don't see you or Sienna's righteous benevolence taking any notice of them. How they're being faced with more scrutiny, fear and mistrust in their day-to-day dealings than ever. How your little insurgent group is the only media coverage the faunus even get anymore. How a generation of children are being raised to think your kind are monsters, not by their elders but by stories of what happened to Mistral, and all the hate groups that's going to give rise to twenty or thirty years from now; perhaps even a Shadow Fang of our own to unleash hell on your glorious faunus-led utopia and keep the wheels of this tired conflict spinning as earnestly and devotedly as yours has. Yes, yes—"

She held up a hand to cut off any of the expected responses.

"—those things are all humanity's fault. I get it. We're wretched, self-serving beasts incapable of empathy or change, no better than the Grimm, despite the fact that the brain chemistry found in my kind and yours is literally functionally identical. Whatever. It's still happening. Right now, faunus are suffering, because of you. Consider what you did to Eve Taurus in her final months the first of many uncomfortable truths you're going to have to confront about this so-called 'revolution' of yours. You're not doing all this for the faunus, Blake. You're doing it for you. To suit your rage. To give it something to point itself at so you can bear to wake up in the morning. I know what I'm about to say strikes a nerve in whatever tiny, neglected sliver of self-respect you have left, dear, and I know the fact that you approach your ideological depravity from entirely different ends of the ethical spectrum makes the comparison a bit insensitive. But I'm not a very sensitive person. And the more I hear you justify yourself, the more certain I become of something."

For all intents and purposes, fearful or no, it was abundantly evident by this point that Weiss had little issue with administering one of her cold, clinical sermons no different than if they were back in Atlas, Blake the prisoner and she the one secure in her feeling of absolute authority and control. The only distinction to be found was in her eyes, which rather than probe unrelentingly slowly drifted back down to the floor throughout the spiel and returned to giving Blake anything other than their direct attention.

tumblr_pvxunv41WY1yoh6oco8_400.jpg

"In another lifetime, you and Carnelian would've been terrific friends. You probably would've hosted a seminar together on how to be a slave to your emotions. What a pair the two of you are going to make, prostrated around my ankles together, lapping up Ozpin's malevolence like good little moths to a flame. Just know that somewhere, cloistered away in whatever recesses of my mind he consigns me to? I will be retching."

She may have been done, she may have been a prisoner both internal and external in every sense of the word, and she may have been afraid of the lynchpin of concentrated wrath before her. But she was not going to let this violent, self-anointed martyr lord over her like this. Wasn't giving her the chance to indulge all her crude little fantasies of how she might one day address a caged Schnee, whether she truly believed it to be the case or no.

"Come. The others await in the throne room. We'll wait there for Lord Ozpin to resume control. I assume you remember how to get there"


"So no." She concluded coolly, moving quite literally not one inch. "I'm not interested in going anywhere with you. I think I'm just going to sit here, conserve my energy, and ponder my life's choices for however long it takes Ozma to wrench control away from me again. Feel free to fix me a drink in the meantime."

 
Last edited:
She held her gaze for a few moments longer, before she released Weiss and the flames snuffed back out as she stood up straight and backed up.

"Come. The others await in the throne room. We'll wait there for Lord Ozpin to resume control. I assume you remember how to get there"

"No." She shot back coolly, moving quite literally not one inch. "I'm not interested in going anywhere with you. I think I'm just going to sit here, conserve my strength, and ponder my life's choices until Ozpin finally manages to wrench back control from me again. Feel free to get me a drink in the meantime."

As it so happened, it was right then. Hardly a second passed from Weiss's last word, her final uttered word of cold snobbish sass before her whole body shook and head twitching alongside. An event that coincided with the internal representation of Ozpin, Ozma, whichever name one cared to use, throwing the personification of Weiss's will, her mind as hard as he could down that abyss, that void that stood for losing control over her own body. Then from his own will, a force cascaded downwards, blasting Weiss down faster. Further. As deep as she could get, buried in the sheer darkness. He'd had enough of this wasteful conflict. Outwardly, Weiss Schnee's head fell. And when it rose again, both of Weiss's eyes were blood red, not the red and icy blue that it had just been. It was a clear indication of who was in firm control once again, at least for the time being.

The violent shaking had brought Weiss's side ponytail to brush against the front of her face, and her expression twisted into one of annoyance before she wrenched the hair out of the way. To have to likely deal with that every time Weiss stubbornly tried to resist...it was somewhat petty, but he did not want to deal with such. What was more, she would be reminded of the fact that her ultimate fate would be to become nothing but a tool, her body an extension of his will. Every time she stared at her own reflection while she held dominion, she would be reminded of it. No matter how deep in the abyss he would be at that time, it would bring him a certain...satisfaction. Blake's blade got snatched away and Weiss Schnee's body pulled her hair back and began to cut.

Soon enough, in contrast to Weiss's announced desire to sit, her body stood up, floor scattered with hair as white as snow.

gfHoBXS.png


"That'll do."
Her eyes shifted to look at Blake, holding gaze with the Hand's own eyes. "Daughter." Then Weiss's stare turned downwards, staring at the stump where the faunus had cut off her own hand. There was no anger for how Blake had robbed this host of the magical strength it had possessed. He was aware of all that had just occurred, watching from deep within Weiss. What had been Weiss's now rested in the faunus. Power that now belonged to Blake, and another. He had given precise instruction to do whatever she needed to do, and that fit the description. The depths of his own magic would return in time, tiny portions of it had indeed already come to him, and he would have a maiden serving him alongside. "Yes, to the throne room we shall go. We have things to discuss, I have things to explain, plans to lay out and things to retrieve...but first, before that..."

She stepped forward, one hand gently taking hold of Blake's arm and lifting the stump up closer to her face. "I said you deserved to be rewarded for all that you have done for me, and I meant it." Weiss smiled. "The power of the spring maiden is one amazing reward indeed, strength I believe that you shall put to very very good use, but I offer more than that. You are in need of a new hand, wouldn't you say? I am prepared and willing to give you one, here and now. A powerful one in its own right, superior to one of flesh and blood. And from now on, whatever you face or situation you get caught in, it will be with the certainty that I am always by your side. That you and I shall build the better world you so fervently desire, together." She released the arm and stepped back a few steps.

"That is, if you wish it. The choice is yours."
Weiss Schnee stood by, awaiting Blake's decision, the smile never leaving her face.​
 
Whether it was sheer spite, stubbornness, petulance or something else, whatever violent reprisal her words may or may not have invited on her from the one they addressed never quite got them to subside; Weiss seemingly intent on making sure this particular lecture made it all the way out no matter how blue her face went, how ineffectually her nails scratched and clawed at the faunus's face or how shaken and blurred with tears her eyes became at whatever they saw in Blake's at that proximity. Perhaps it was one of those aforementioned qualities—or simply a way of stamping her own, emphatic exclamation point on the notion that the time when Weiss Schnee had any designs for Blake Belladonna was finished and she wanted nothing more to do with her—that ensured the very instant she felt that cold, unsettling feeling rise like bile from within was when she forced one final concluding remark out through gritted teeth.

"Bye forever, Blake."

If Ozpin thought someone with her ego was going to take this lying down, he was joking. She was going to learn to seize back control when it mattered, when it was most inconvenient for him. She was going to pick her moments.

And if she had her way, she wasn't going to be wasting any more of them on this woman.

---

797254773194752000.png

Those salon appointments cost her a fortune!

Is what she would've thought, had she been a cognizant being or anything more than a screaming echo plummeting through infinite space at the back of someone's mind at that point.

Well, at the very least she could pull it off.
 
Last edited:
The forced realignment of her gaze proved necessary if Blake in any way wanted her point to land the way she meant it to, a consequence of the fact that barely a few words into the little spiel Weiss gave a tut so loud and droll she swore her enhanced ears heard echoes of it sass right up and down the corridor. There was something insolent about it, and in the way her gaze left the Hand's in favor of drifting back down to the floor, once more engaged in its faraway look of vacant, unresponsive despondence. Until she was quite literally forced to, she gave no further indication she was seven listening to the Hand, apparently sublimely interested in devoting any more of her attention to Blake lording it over her or getting vindication or whatever this was supposed to be.

The small, porcelain chin that somehow looked so frail now jerked away from her hand a few times before she finally caught it, and only then did she finally give the faunus any measure of returned eye contact, eyes narrowing in concerted defiance as she waited for Blake to get it out of her system. To her credit, the flame erupting so close it made her eyes water didn't draw so much as a flinch from that patient glower, and when she was through Weiss cleared her throat and prepared to do this one last time.

"Done? Good. Blake?"

She swatted the hand away.

"Get over yourself."

The way she said it made it perfectly apparent she felt it was something someone should've said to Blake Belladonna a long, long time ago, not that she believed for one second she was going to be receptive to it.

"You're so ridiculous it's unbearable. What does it take to become Hand of the Shadow Fang these days, an ability to make anything sound convincing in your own ears? Honestly. You came to my city, primed to sow whatever chaos and destruction you deemed fit all in the name of your fetishized vendetta against me, all the while pumping your fist and stamping your feet and throwing your head back to the sky with shouts of 'Revolution!' like you're anything more than a trained attack dog at this point. And now you're casting aspersions on me because I didn't, what, let you? Or disarm you in such a manner that plays into this sad, deluded image of whatever 'fated rivalry' you believe you and I are supposed to have? Yes, Blake. I beat you. Deal with it. And now I'm here, and you know what?"

She gave a minor, sarcastic flourish with her hands, glancing up and down the hall both ways as if waiting for some overarching rhyme or purpose to all this nonsense to emerge from around the corner. When none did, she went on, voice lifting above its quiet, scratchy notes of dejection for the first time in the conversation to instead fill with mock awe and wonderment at the lack thereof.

"That's it! I threw you in a cell, took drastic measures in case you ever broke out, and had every intention of throwing away the key and forgetting about you until all this was all said and done and I could even begin to allocate the necessary mental faculties to contemplate what to do with you. Sorry, is that a disappointment? Is that not a good twist in whatever storybook you think all this is? Too bad. There's no grand design here, dear. You sound more paranoid and conspiratorial than I have at my absolute worst. You'd like to hear the truth from these lovely poisoned lips for a change?"

She scoffed again.

"Fine. You are NOT a priority to me, Blake Belladonna. You never have been. In fact, you're not a priority to anyone in all this. You were a distraction your lord and master sent to dash herself on the cliff-face that is Atlas in the hopes it'd soften me up for him in the coming war. You think the fact that I steamrolled you, put you through the wringer, violated every right you and your pack of assassins have over the last few days, what, vindicates you somehow? Makes you special?"

Her head shook scornfully, keeping time with a quiet, rueful laugh.

"I spent the last few months of my own sister's life doing the same thing to her. Among many, many other people I hold in far higher esteem than I do you. Why? Because that's what I convinced myself was necessary. I vindicated myself. And look where that got me. Well, that's done now. We're done. With... whatever this is," she sniffed, gaze flickering away again, the flap of the hand she gave in Blake's direction as dismissive and uninterested as if she were a particularly threatening piece of upholstery. "You can keep your respect. From the moment we met, I thought there was hope for you. I had hoped I might be able to help you one day, but I'm beginning to understand that I am in no position to be offering help to anybody. Because I'm sick, Blake. And so are you. But you know what?"

She sneered, eyes flickering back, and for perhaps the final time Blake found herself under that intense, dissecting, shrewdly analytical Weiss Schnee microscope lens.

"I'm beginning to think you like being sick. Tremble your bottom lip with those misty eyes and wax poetic about how bad it makes you feel every time you kill and how this is 'the hardest thing you've ever had to do' all you want; I think it gives you an outlet. I think all the pain, grief, anger and guilt became too much for you to bear over the years, and this? This is the only relief you were ever able to find. You don't care about the fate of the faunus. There are a million faunus out there right now who'd give you a PowerPoint presentation on all the different ways this little crusade of yours has adversely affected their lives. How they're being faced with more scrutiny, fear and mistrust in their day-to-day lives than ever. How your little insurgent group is the only media coverage the faunus even get anymore. How a generation of children are being raised to think your kind are monsters, not by their elders but by stories of what happened to Mistral, and all the hate groups that's going to give rise to twenty or thirty years from now; perhaps even a Shadow Fang of our own hoping to rip away whatever glorious faunus utopia you think is waiting for you at the end of all this. Yes, yes—"

She held up a hand to cut off any prospective response.

"—those things are all humanity's fault. I get it. We're wretched, self-serving beasts incapable of empathy or change, no better than the Grimm, despite the fact that the chemical layout of the brain in my kind and yours are literally functionally identical. Whatever. It's still happening. Right now, faunus are suffering, because of you. Consider what you did to Eve Taur-

For one of Remnants most violently efficient killers, all Blake did in the face of so much anger and words was let out a wry, bemused smirk as it washed over her.

This was exactly what she was talking about.

Weiss Schnee took hit lying down about as well as she did. Maybe Blake's suspicion was right; maybe this was just one more step in the plan. Or maybe it wasn't; she had little doubt that if Weiss didn't outright lose the battle of wills to Ozpin in the next few weeks, or even days, she'd find some way to make it their problem.

The vindication didn't last long through the words, but she made no move to stop them even as the smirk slowly hardened into a stormy frown with eyes to match. This may have been the last words Weiss Schnee was going to say with her own mouth in a long, long time, and Blake wasn't so pointlessly cruel as to take that. It didn't matter what the words were; she was wrong about the Shadowfang, and it honestly didn't matter if she was right or wrong about Blake. It no longer mattered what anyone thought of her, so long as the work was done. Blake couldn't let it matter what the few people she still held dear thought of her; needless to say, Weiss didn't make that list.

But there were still chinks the armor of control.

The moment Eve's name left Weiss' mouth, Whatever patience and respect Blake had been willing to offer shriveled up and died. The hand that had been gripping Weiss' chin suddenly slammed into her throat, painfully, frustratingly close to breaking something and releasing Weiss far sooner than was meant to be. The hand stayed their, pinning Weiss against the fleshy wall behind them as Blake slowly stood, dragging Weiss along with her.

"Not that one, Weiss. You don't get to say that name. Not you."

The breathy, barely audible words were as much a solemn pact Blake was making with herself as it was a declaration to Weiss herself, The faunus' breaths coming in slow and heavy as cooled the flames inside her heart as best she could.

As it so happened, it was right then. Hardly a second passed from Weiss's last word, her final uttered word of cold snobbish sass before her whole body shook and head twitching alongside. An event that coincided with the internal representation of Ozpin, Ozma, whichever name one cared to use, throwing the personification of Weiss's will, her mind as hard as he could down that abyss, that void that stood for losing control over her own body. Then from his own will, a force cascaded downwards, blasting Weiss down faster. Further. As deep as she could get, buried in the sheer darkness. He'd had enough of this wasteful conflict. Outwardly, Weiss Schnee's head fell. And when it rose again, both of Weiss's eyes were blood red, not the red and icy blue that it had just been. It was a clear indication of who was in firm control once again, at least for the time being.

The violent shaking had brought Weiss's side ponytail to brush against the front of her face, and her expression twisted into one of annoyance before she wrenched the hair out of the way. To have to likely deal with that every time Weiss stubbornly tried to resist...it was somewhat petty, but he did not want to deal with such. What was more, she would be reminded of the fact that her ultimate fate would be to become nothing but a tool, her body an extension of his will. Every time she stared at her own reflection while she held dominion, she would be reminded of it. No matter how deep in the abyss he would be at that time, it would bring him a certain...satisfaction. Blake's blade got snatched away and Weiss Schnee's body pulled her hair back and began to cut.

Soon enough, in contrast to Weiss's announced desire to sit, her body stood up, floor scattered with hair as white as snow.

gfHoBXS.png

Those violent eyes widened slightly at the sight of those eyes of red, and she let Ozma's neck go in the same fluid motion that put her to one knee. said eyes narrowed as she felt Gambol's sheathe blade suddenly snatched from her back, before they regretfully drifted shut.

Perhaps she had gone too far in her fit of anger. She had taken the power of Spring for herself, and lost Winter entirely. It may have not mattered to Ozpin that the chip had been a danger to his host for as long as it still existed; She had, in essence, killed him herself.

"...Lord Ozpin, I-"

She blinked as she saw the silver white locks of hair slowly drift to the ground around her. Oh.

"That'll do." Her eyes shifted to look at Blake, holding gaze with the Hand's own eyes. "Daughter." Then Weiss's stare turned downwards, staring at the stump where the faunus had cut off her own hand. There was no anger for how Blake had robbed this host of the magical strength it had possessed. He was aware of all that had just occurred, watching from deep within Weiss. What had been Weiss's now rested in the faunus. Power that now belonged to Blake, and another. He had given precise instruction to do whatever she needed to do, and that fit the description. The depths of his own magic would return in time, tiny portions of it had indeed already come to him, and he would have a maiden serving him alongside. "Yes, to the throne room we shall go. We have things to discuss, I have things to explain, plans to lay out and things to retrieve...but first, before that..."

She stepped forward, one hand gently taking hold of Blake's arm and lifting the stump up closer to her face. "I said you deserved to be rewarded for all that you have done for me, and I meant it." Weiss smiled. "The power of the spring maiden is one amazing reward indeed, strength I believe that you shall put to very very good use, but I offer more than that. You are in need of a new hand, wouldn't you say? I am prepared and willing to give you one, here and now. A powerful one in its own right, superior to one of flesh and blood. And from now on, whatever you face or situation you get caught in, it will be with the certainty that I am always by your side. That you and I shall build the better world you so fervently desire, together." She released the arm and stepped back a few steps.

"That is, if you wish it. The choice is yours." Weiss Schnee stood by, awaiting Blake's decision, the smile never leaving her face.

She listened in deference, the ugly fire of grief and hate already disappearing under the mask of focus and resolve that made her the Hand. She freely offered her severed limb as it was grasped, and her words were solemn and respectful when Ozma stepped back and she replied... even if it was in the negative.

"...I decline, my lord."

her head stayed bowed as she continued.

"Those who bear your gifts are mighty, cunning, and violent beasts of war. Your dragon had more to do with the fall of Atlas than I; she is to be commended. Your pet maiden could likely lay ruin to a kingdom herself. But for all the strength the grimm have given them, I would not call either of them focused, or calm. It may not matter for tools such as them; you can't dull a blunt object. But I am your blade, lord Ozpin, not a club. I require my own thoughts, and a trust in my own form."

There was one more part to it, as small and as silly as it was, and a part of it she didn't dare voice;

She still wanted to be a faunus, when the world was finally fixed. Weiss could try to call the blood and darkness left in Blake's wake as her true nature all she wanted; Even if it was a far dimmer light now that eve was gone, Blake wouldn't have kept going after Atlas if that light at the end still didn't flicker. The dragon, Cinder, and Oz himself... they weren't' human anymore. They were something different.

If she was to be the weapon of the faunus, she had to stay a faunus.

"I hope that does not displease you, lord; The world you will create has always been the only reward I seek. You do not need to adorn your blade with finery to trust it will cut your enemies."
 
The Boss had finally got her.

No more would she pester him.

It'd end here, right now!


Having gathered that Neo had managed to figure out a way around his semblance, the Boss burst forward with his hands still around Neo's throat.

Leaving the two of them against a nearby building with Neo's back literally and figuratively against the wall.

"You're clearly wise beyond your years, child." He mocked in between his growls of rage. "You managed to figure out a key...flaw...in my semblance." He was loathe to say weakness. To say that would imply that she or anyone else stood a chance at beating him. At destroying everything he'd spent his life working towards. That was a reality he simply refused to look in the eye and ever be willing to accept. "My wind doesn't flow on a dime. If you were to come at me from one direction but move from another, I'd need time. Time to redirect the course of my wind. That also means needing to let go of whatever I'm holding. Lest it be thrown away like refuse falling into the garbage disposal." He chided.

But even with half of his face still hidden away by the shrouds of darkness and what remained of his mask, Neo could make out the devilish grin on his face.

"But if you're up against a solid surface...where will you go? The winds will buffet you, pummel you, and I won't ever need to let you GO!"

He squeezed tighter, intending on just strangling the teenager to death like oh so many of Jack's victims.

"I've come too far...sacrificed too much...To have my whole life's work undone by the antics of meddling snot-dribbling miscreants! I'LL WRING THE LIFE FROM YOU AND YOU'LL DIE A FAILURE! JUST ANOTHER STEPPING STONE FOR ME TO SHOW MY POWER!!"


The stabbing pricked against the Boss's aura.

It likely didn't matter to Neo but she'd been the first one to land such successive hits on the criminally insane mastermind behind the Bound Ashes. But given the crazed look in his eyes, one would find it hard to tell whether the realization that if one of them didn't give way, they were going to be stabbed/choked to death respectively. Leaving one hand around Neo's throat, the Boss pulled back one hand and Neo could see wind cycling around his arm as it began to wildly vibrate. "Once I've dealt with you and your friends and those insipid traitors in the Hitman Team, I'll move onto those filthy animals darkening Mistral's door." He warned, likely referring to the Shadow Fang. "Face it, child! You'll never learn my identity! I've erased your chances of winning and leapt to the conclusion: MY VICTORY!"

He thrust his fist forward with the extra impact/speed the wind was giving it in the hopes he'd straight up cave Neo's skull in.

"DIE!"

~~~

The punch still came and Neo's aura likely flared up as though it were embers floating up from a pile of ashes.

But it hadn't caved in her face or shattered her skull. Not like how the Boss had intended.



She'd also notice that the wind had come to an abrupt halt. As if it'd disappeared altogether. In the midst of whatever pain she was going through, she'd see a faint red glow outlining the small area where Neo and the Boss were standing. The Boss could barely contain his frustration as it bubbled to the surface and erupted. "Y-YOU!!!!" He shrieked as he looked over his shoulder to see the cause of this disturbance.

*drip*

Standing there leaning on the hilt of Riot Breaker for dear life, Char stood with the jacket Neo had wrapped around him darkened with his blood. His body language by all means expressed how tired he was. His aura shimmered like a beautiful light around him. The Null Zone had been activated and just in the nick of time.

"I'm...*cough* really sorry...*cough* I keep messing up your pretty little illusions, Pinky. Guess I was never too good for much but.."

He sniffled.

"My loyalty was always to the gang, to the family, above all else. But you killed Blanche...From the looks of it....You even killed Abyss." It seemed that in the short time between him briefly passing out and regaining consciousness, he'd put two and two together on who the mysterious shooter had been. Probably came to get Char and Blanche and bounce. "...You'll probably kill me too. I can't say I don't deserve it but....You're not gonna kill the kid." He growled before nearly stumbling to the ground. The Null Zone faded in and out, the glow almost transparent indicating just how fatigued Char was. But he'd keep it up for as long as he could. The Boss was an intimidating...thing(Char didn't feel it right to call him a man)but the longer he could keep his semblance at the bay, the better their odds were. That the kid could get away and regroup with the others...and maybe....things would be okay...

The Boss...to put it lightly....was a little annoyed.

"You....You FUCKING CRETIN! I WON'T BE STOPPED BY YOU OR ANYBODY ELSE!!" He roughly whipped Neo to the ground and opened up his coat to reveal one of his actual knives and not just one masked by his semblance. Drawing it from the pocket it'd been sheathed in, he moved towards Char and growled as the Null Zone extended along his path keeping him from activating his semblance. Char didn't make any effort to run. He didn't really feel he had it in him. He felt bad enough that the kid had tried so hard to save him and here he was botching it again. Just like he'd botched the mission that'd gotten Blanche and him in this mess to begin with.

"Neo!"

Char called out to her as the Null Zone started fading again.

"Get back to the warehouse! You've gotta tell the others who the killer is! He's the Boss! The leader of the Bound Ashes! I-I don't care HOW but you have to!!"

"That's ENOUGH!!!"

The Boss lunged for Char. H-He'd just have to kill him first and stop Neo!

He couldn't let his secret get out! HE'D WORKED TOO HARD FOR THAT!!!


The first thing Neo did when the boss dropped her was lay flat on her back in a daze; She was tough, she was a god damn huntress (in training) slash (amateur) bounty hunter, but getting straight up, full on socked in the face by someone so strong hurt. She shook her head as she rolled to the side and came up to one knee, Hush' blade at the ready as she took in the sight before her.

Her eyes lit up and her smile was downright delighted when she saw Char standing, his semblance washing across the field of battle.

It lasted like, two seconds before he yelled for her to go tell the others;

'You mean me? the MUTE GIRL!? YOU WANT ME TO!? I COULDN'T EVEN TELL MY BEST FRIEND HOW I FELT ABOUT HIM BEFORE HE DIED; I COULDN'T EVEN SAY UNCLE WHEN ME AND CINDER GOT IN THAT STUPID TICKLE FIGHT AND SHE OBVIOUSLY WON BUT I COULDN'T SAY ANYTHING UNTIL I JUST STRAIGHT UP STARTED CRYING! I ALWAYS GET PICKLES ON MY SANDWICHES BECAUSE I CANT EVER ASK FOR THEM WITHOUT IT AND THIS STUPID CITY DOESN'T HAVE DOORCRASH ANYMORE! You want the MUTE girl to get into the BUILDING WE COULDN'T EVEN GET INTO FIVE MINUTES AGO to TELL everyone to COME OUTSIDE?! WHY? HOW?!'

Thats what she wanted to say, but she obviously couldnt', so she raised both hands to either side of her and hoped her flummoxed, absolutely helpless look told Char just how impossible that was.

Then the boss started his charge, Neo's eyes narrowed, and Hush twirled in her hands.

The other reason she didn't go for help?

She kind of hated leaving Char to die like that. He'd been nice enough in the few hours they'd known each other, in a dorky petty criminal way. Besides, he was a huntress; Her whole job was to run into danger and risk her life so other people didn't die.

The other, other reason she didn't go for help?

She didn't need anyone else's help to demolish this clown's ass on a fair playing field.



Light steps danced across the debris in pursuit of the boss, and Hush swung down to catch a piece concrete that had been torn out of the street from the boss' rampage in the crook of the handle to whip it hurtling through the air for the back of the boss' knee mid stride, an attempt to keep him off balance long enough that Neo could reach him before he reached Char. The moment he started to turn towards her, she leaped into the air in a downright impressive display of light feet and sheer athleticism, up and over his head, disappearing for a scant moment without the need of any illusions, before she came down in a twirling slash down his shoulder with Hush' blade in a bid to tear through even more of his aura.
 
Last edited:


A gloved hand closed firmly around Char's throat and picked him up off the ground.

"You filth-sucking vermin! You're overplaying your hand, Char! YOU SHOULD HAVE JUST LAID DOWN AND DIED!!" He raised the knife and prepared to plunge it deep into Char's chest before the debris hit him right where Neo had meant it to. He winced and actually gasped in pain. Char fell from his grip and tripped backwards. "How...H-How..." The Boss pondered aloud as he struggled not to topple over from the fist sized chunk of debris that'd been flung at him. He looked over at Neo and then up at her, his teeth gritting the entire time. "I won't....I cannot accept this!" Her blade came down and in the smallest of seconds, the Boss turned and blade met blade as literal sparks scattered across the aura strengthened steel. "I WON'T BE FORCED TO A KNEE BY...BY A MERE CHILD!!!"

Stepping back and cursing the red glow still lingering at his feet, he sneered at Neo.

"What? Do you think because I've lost my semblance that means you've won? To rely on one's semblance is a fool's errand. It's a tool." He rotated his shoulders and his jacket fell to the ground behind him. For a man who had three personalities in his head, one of whom was 17-18, his frame certainly looked a far cry from the demure timid energy that Aurora carried himself with.

maxresdefault.jpg


"Nobody, not even I, can escape life's highs and lows. Never would I have imagined in all my years that i'd be wasting my time and energy disposing of trash like you myself. Such is one of the lows that life has seen fit to 'grace' me with. But you're running on borrowed time, I'm afraid. The second Char loses his concentration or falters for even the slightest of seconds, my semblance will return and I'll wring the life out of you and my subordinate in the warehouse has likely already made short work of your friends..." He sprinted towards Neo, knife clutched tightly in hand as he moved for a downwards swing to try and cut right in the center of her forehead. "I know you lack the ability to give me an answer but I simply can't explain away your actions. You've seen the fear I provoke, the power at my fingertips. Your own life had been hanging by a thread. Yet you rise and rise again to oppose me. Your actions lack not only sense, they lack logic!"

The Null Zone faded in and out as Char had resumed his footing.

'I can't admit it aloud but...The sonofabitch is right...I can't do this for long. I can feel a fever coming on from the strain I'm putting my body through just standing like this. But if I couldn't even protect my leader or my best friend...' Char grunted. 'I'll do whatever I can to save this kid's life. I'll keep the Null Zone active for long as I can...'

"Get him, kid! Make him pay for all of Mistral's people that he's hurt!"
 
She listened in deference, the ugly fire of grief and hate already disappearing under the mask of focus and resolve that made her the Hand. She freely offered her severed limb as it was grasped, and her words were solemn and respectful when Ozma stepped back and she replied... even if it was in the negative.

"...I decline, my lord."

her head stayed bowed as she continued.

"Those who bear your gifts are mighty, cunning, and violent beasts of war. Your dragon had more to do with the fall of Atlas than I; she is to be commended. Your pet maiden could likely lay ruin to a kingdom herself. But for all the strength the grimm have given them, I would not call either of them focused, or calm. It may not matter for tools such as them; you can't dull a blunt object. But I am your blade, lord Ozpin, not a club. I require my own thoughts, and a trust in my own form."

There was one more part to it, as small and as silly as it was, and a part of it she didn't dare voice;

She still wanted to be a faunus, when the world was finally fixed. Weiss could try to call the blood and darkness left in Blake's wake as her true nature all she wanted; Even if it was a far dimmer light now that eve was gone, Blake wouldn't have kept going after Atlas if that light at the end still didn't flicker. The dragon, Cinder, and Oz himself... they weren't' human anymore. They were something different.

If she was to be the weapon of the faunus, she had to stay a faunus.

"I hope that does not displease you, lord; The world you will create has always been the only reward I seek. You do not need to adorn your blade with finery to trust it will cut your enemies."

The smile only grew more pronounced by the end of Blake's reply, and Weiss's head shook then. "Displeased? Not at all. I would not have asked, would not have given you a choice and left the possibility of you turning it down open, if I intended to force it upon you. You have done well, and that deserves reward, not punishment." Those blood red eyes flickered to the stump once more. "I appreciate your poetic candor in addition to your service as my blade, but I still feel your efficiency going forward will be hampered, somewhat, going forward...thanks to that wound. Finery it may not require, but the blade that cuts deep into my enemies should still be as sharpened and deadly as possible. Fortunately, we have other options." She turned then, beginning to stride for the door out of here on her way to the throne room.

"The first would have been using the new status quo to our advantage. You and the Dragon secured Atlas for me, and I did not have to so much as lift a finger for it. The world's most mighty kingdom, and the forefront of scientific advancement. At first I thought, provided you turned down my offer as you have, that an Atlesian prosthetic would be sufficient. But I daresay that, well, such a thing carries with it a certain symbolism. If I had to wager it, I believe the kingdom you hate the most, the one you most want to see burnt down is that very same one. An alliance with them may be forged from blood and through gritted teeth, but to accept a gift from them, to go into every battle and conflict from now on carrying a part of that kingdom with you...you would hate it utterly. Would I be correct in that, hm?"
Weiss looked over her shoulder, awaiting the answer as she walked on.​
 


A gloved hand closed firmly around Char's throat and picked him up off the ground.

"You filth-sucking vermin! You're overplaying your hand, Char! YOU SHOULD HAVE JUST LAID DOWN AND DIED!!" He raised the knife and prepared to plunge it deep into Char's chest before the debris hit him right where Neo had meant it to. He winced and actually gasped in pain. Char fell from his grip and tripped backwards. "How...H-How..." The Boss pondered aloud as he struggled not to topple over from the fist sized chunk of debris that'd been flung at him. He looked over at Neo and then up at her, his teeth gritting the entire time. "I won't....I cannot accept this!" Her blade came down and in the smallest of seconds, the Boss turned and blade met blade as literal sparks scattered across the aura strengthened steel. "I WON'T BE FORCED TO A KNEE BY...BY A MERE CHILD!!!"

Stepping back and cursing the red glow still lingering at his feet, he sneered at Neo.

"What? Do you think because I've lost my semblance that means you've won? To rely on one's semblance is a fool's errand. It's a tool." He rotated his shoulders and his jacket fell to the ground behind him. For a man who had three personalities in his head, one of whom was 17-18, his frame certainly looked a far cry from the demure timid energy that Aurora carried himself with.

maxresdefault.jpg


"Nobody, not even I, can escape life's highs and lows. Never would I have imagined in all my years that i'd be wasting my time and energy disposing of trash like you myself. Such is one of the lows that life has seen fit to 'grace' me with. But you're running on borrowed time, I'm afraid. The second Char loses his concentration or falters for even the slightest of seconds, my semblance will return and I'll wring the life out of you and my subordinate in the warehouse has likely already made short work of your friends..." He sprinted towards Neo, knife clutched tightly in hand as he moved for a downwards swing to try and cut right in the center of her forehead. "I know you lack the ability to give me an answer but I simply can't explain away your actions. You've seen the fear I provoke, the power at my fingertips. Your own life had been hanging by a thread. Yet you rise and rise again to oppose me. Your actions lack not only sense, they lack logic!"

The Null Zone faded in and out as Char had resumed his footing.

'I can't admit it aloud but...The sonofabitch is right...I can't do this for long. I can feel a fever coming on from the strain I'm putting my body through just standing like this. But if I couldn't even protect my leader or my best friend...' Char grunted. 'I'll do whatever I can to save this kid's life. I'll keep the Null Zone active for long as I can...'

"Get him, kid! Make him pay for all of Mistral's people that he's hurt!"

When their blades clashed after Neo's leaping strike, in the split second before Neo was pushed back through the air, the Boss' eyes met Neos. There wasn't any fear in those eyes, despite just how tenuous this situation was; all the tiny girl he was clashing with was feeling, if those eyes could be trusted, was a vicious glee at the idea of making this monster hurt.

She landed with a deft rotation that ended with her right foot fowards and left hand clasped behind her back, Hush raised like an oldschool fencer's blade as the boss charged forward. She swayed back away from the first swing at the same time she twisted Hush to slash across the boss' arm; a light cut, a small dent in someone's aura, but she didn't risk staying close enough for a harder swing as she danced backwards. She continued like that, letting the boss take the lead and putting her smaller size and quicker steps to use. Every block she was forced to make was a deflection rather than a matching of strength to strength, and even then it rattled her teeth on impact, but she'd practiced forever for this very thing; The boss may have been stacked like a greek god underneath that purple sweater, but he was no ursa major or alpha beowolf, and Neo was frustratingly slippery even without her semblance, bending away from strikes in ways that hurt the joints just to look at and moving with a deft speed and strength that made use of how light she was rather than let it be a weakness as she continued slipping in little strike after light slash, whittling away at her foe's aura
 
The smile only grew more pronounced by the end of Blake's reply, and Weiss's head shook then. "Displeased? Not at all. I would not have asked, would not have given you a choice and left the possibility of you turning it down open, if I intended to force it upon you. You have done well, and that deserves reward, not punishment." Those blood red eyes flickered to the stump once more. "I appreciate your poetic candor in addition to your service as my blade, but I still feel your efficiency going forward will be hampered, somewhat, going forward...thanks to that wound. Finery it may not require, but the blade that cuts deep into my enemies should still be as sharpened and deadly as possible. Fortunately, we have other options." She turned then, beginning to stride for the door out of here on her way to the throne room.

"The first would have been using the new status quo to our advantage. You and the Dragon secured Atlas for me, and I did not have to so much as lift a finger for it. The world's most mighty kingdom, and the forefront of scientific advancement. At first I thought, provided you turned down my offer as you have, that an Atlesian prosthetic would be sufficient. But I daresay that, well, such a thing carries with it a certain symbolism. If I had to wager it, I believe the kingdom you hate the most, the one you most want to see burnt down is that very same one. An alliance with them may be forged from blood and through gritted teeth, but to accept a gift from them, to go into every battle and conflict from now on carrying a part of that kingdom with you...you would hate it utterly. Would I be correct in that, hm?" Weiss looked over her shoulder, awaiting the answer as she walked on.​
Blake fell into silent step as Ozma's shadow, and she reached to where she'd stowed her talon mask and stared at it for a few moments before she slid it back into place.

"...My feelings on it do not matter. If atlesian technology is what allows me to best serve you, then I will accept it. But I may have other tools available. Allow me some time to think on it, my lord; I promise I will be fully prepared in time for my next task"
 
When their blades clashed after Neo's leaping strike, in the split second before Neo was pushed back through the air, the Boss' eyes met Neos. There wasn't any fear in those eyes, despite just how tenuous this situation was; all the tiny girl he was clashing with was feeling, if those eyes could be trusted, was a vicious glee at the idea of making this monster hurt.


As though it hadn't been confirmed, it were absolutely certain now.

He HATED this petulant waste of oxygen and life.

She landed with a deft rotation that ended with her right foot fowards and left hand clasped behind her back, Hush raised like an oldschool fencer's blade as the boss charged forward. She swayed back away from the first swing at the same time she twisted Hush to slash across the boss' arm; a light cut, a small dent in someone's aura, but she didn't risk staying close enough for a harder swing as she danced backwards. She continued like that, letting the boss take the lead and putting her smaller size and quicker steps to use. Every block she was forced to make was a deflection rather than a matching of strength to strength, and even then it rattled her teeth on impact, but she'd practiced forever for this very thing; The boss may have been stacked like a greek god underneath that purple sweater, but he was no ursa major or alpha beowolf, and Neo was frustratingly slippery even without her semblance, bending away from strikes in ways that hurt the joints just to look at and moving with a deft speed and strength that made use of how light she was rather than let it be a weakness as she continued slipping in little strike after light slash, whittling away at her foe's aura
The slashes picked and pecked at the Boss's aura.

Something he...just wasn't used to anymore.

People would fall into line the second he spoke to them. The idea of somebody standing against him, let alone moving to get him this agitated.

It was unthinkable. The scenario simply didn't make any rational sense to him.

But it was happening and with more and more strikes, his sweater took damage. It wasn't even really 'his' to begin with. With the heavy jacket gone, the sweater had moved up to above his belly button indicating that he'd barely had time to change from his Aurora personality before setting out here to wrap things up. After knocking Neo back to put some fair distance between the two, he grabbed onto the collar of the sweater and threw it to the ground. It landed in a heap on the floor besides his jacket. This wasn't the jacket wearing serial killer who'd plagued Mistral for years or the timid right hand to the leader of the Bound Ashes.

This was the Boss himself.

tumblr_psr33mw3f71tandono2_400.gif


His body was lean and muscular with tattoos lining his arms and biceps. Given his state of wear, it was clear that he felt so threatened/paranoid over Neo and her band of irksome travesties figuring out the 'connection' between the Mistral Murderer and himself that he hadn't thought twice about it. He left the relative seclusion of his mansion to stamp out this threat once and for all. Tilting his head to the side, his mane of bright pink hair swayed with his movements. "There's nothing left to say, child. You can try to beat out the clock if it brings you some modicum of joy. You can even continue to attempt to save Char's worthless life despite how futile it'll be."

In each hand he held his long knives. Jack's trademark murdering tools.

Char watched the two fighting and grimaced. No matter how much the kid seemed to whittle away at him, he didn't seem worried at all. As if he felt there was simply no chance that Neopolitan stood any chance at bringing him down when so many others had failed to even get as close as she had. But if she lost here, they'd both die, and the kid's friends at the warehouse and the remainder of the Hitman Team....

The Boss held his blades across his chest.

"Requiescat in Pace, child."


The Boss moved to charge at Neo, attempting to not even give her a chance to breathe or think of a counter to his savage and powerful swipes. As the blades closed in and as she reacted however she may, Neo could have glimpsed Char's pale complexion in the reflection of the Boss's weapons. The Null Zone's glow was growing dimmer and dimmer by the second. Char's hands around Riot Breaker's hilt seemed unsteady. As though he were just moments away from keeling over. Char knew that if that happened, the Boss wouldn't have wasted a second resuming using his semblance.

The Boss knew it too.

Each swipe seemed simply like the actions of an undignified brute. Jack didn't have much experience fighting anyone who could defend themselves and the Boss-needless to say-was more than a bit rusty after watching from the shadows for so long. But it didn't really matter whether how many or if any of his strikes hit home. He'd mentioned something about running out the clock? All it'd take is for Char's strength to give and this would all be over.

Char's legs trembled.

The Boss could hardly contain himself.

"Hehehehe...Hahahaha!"
 
Blake fell into silent step as Ozma's shadow, and she reached to where she'd stowed her talon mask and stared at it for a few moments before she slid it back into place.

"...My feelings on it do not matter. If atlesian technology is what allows me to best serve you, then I will accept it. But I may have other tools available. Allow me some time to think on it, my lord; I promise I will be fully prepared in time for my next task"

"Of that, I have no doubt. Take the time you need, I assure you there will be plenty of it for you. You will remain here with me, for quite some time." She replied with a faint snicker. "After all, you shall also need some guidance on how to best harness your new power, and I have a new host to get familiar with." The expression on her face grew eager. Combat training, it had been quite some time since that had proven necessary. Glyphs, summoning...oh yes, this would prove quite interesting indeed. "But we shall get to that later." Weiss fell silent for the rest of the walk. The doors to the throne room opened loudly and announcing their arrival to the rest already gathered. Weiss's body strode past all of them, ascended the steps, and calmly took a seat upon the dark throne that now belonged to her. An equally dark smile emerged on her face, and that, coupled with her eyes made a very intimidating sight. Her fingers interlaced as she waited for them all to kneel, as befit one in the presence of a god.

Once they all had, she spoke up again. "For some of you I expect it is rather strange to see me like this, but make no mistake that it is me in here. Every bit the same Ozpin you pledged to serve. There may be times that...Weiss may foolishly try to reassert control. But worry not, she will not be able to do that for much longer before she is completely gone, forgotten, and this form will belong only to me. It is inevitable." Her eyes moved from one to the next, taking all of them in. Blake, the Dragon, Pyrrha, Ren, Leonardo, her secret weapon, the other members of the Shadow Fang...and settled on Carnelian. "On to business, then."

Weiss leaned forward in her seat. "Atlas stands with us." She repeated, almost incredulously. Even now, even with the trust put in Blake and Yang, it still seemed too good to be true. Ironwood, turning on Salem and the rest? Truly unexpected. Yet, one of their top generals was in this very room. That, and the brief scouring through Weiss's own memories of their betrayal backed it up. Was it fear or the desire to protect that drove them to take those actions? No matter. They were here. "I would very much like to hear the story of how that came to pass, from your mouth especially, general. That, as well as... what of the relics that were within the boundaries of this kingdom? The whole reason I brought my legions to Atlas's doorstep. The lamp of knowledge and the staff of creation, where are they?" The whale grimm they were all within continued to soar forward, its current destination unclear to all but one.

2z5oI5S.png


"And do not even think of lying or trying to keep things from me."
 


As though it hadn't been confirmed, it were absolutely certain now.

He HATED this petulant waste of oxygen and life.


The slashes picked and pecked at the Boss's aura.

Something he...just wasn't used to anymore.

People would fall into line the second he spoke to them. The idea of somebody standing against him, let alone moving to get him this agitated.

It was unthinkable. The scenario simply didn't make any rational sense to him.

But it was happening and with more and more strikes, his sweater took damage. It wasn't even really 'his' to begin with. With the heavy jacket gone, the sweater had moved up to above his belly button indicating that he'd barely had time to change from his Aurora personality before setting out here to wrap things up. After knocking Neo back to put some fair distance between the two, he grabbed onto the collar of the sweater and threw it to the ground. It landed in a heap on the floor besides his jacket. This wasn't the jacket wearing serial killer who'd plagued Mistral for years or the timid right hand to the leader of the Bound Ashes.

This was the Boss himself.

tumblr_psr33mw3f71tandono2_400.gif


His body was lean and muscular with tattoos lining his arms and biceps. Given his state of wear, it was clear that he felt so threatened/paranoid over Neo and her band of irksome travesties figuring out the 'connection' between the Mistral Murderer and himself that he hadn't thought twice about it. He left the relative seclusion of his mansion to stamp out this threat once and for all. Tilting his head to the side, his mane of bright pink hair swayed with his movements. "There's nothing left to say, child. You can try to beat out the clock if it brings you some modicum of joy. You can even continue to attempt to save Char's worthless life despite how futile it'll be."


Neo flipped away from their last exchange, and despite the timer she was on she took those few moments to catch her breath, her eyes narrowing as the Boss, uh, stripped.

...

Sure, why not?

She flipped Hush around to rest against her shoulders and opened it as the boss spoke, before she rolled her eyes and raised a hand to puppet-mime it talking, talking, talking. She snapped her hand shut, waggled a finger, then flipped it the other way to beckon him forward.

In each hand he held his long knives. Jack's trademark murdering tools.

Char watched the two fighting and grimaced. No matter how much the kid seemed to whittle away at him, he didn't seem worried at all. As if he felt there was simply no chance that Neopolitan stood any chance at bringing him down when so many others had failed to even get as close as she had. But if she lost here, they'd both die, and the kid's friends at the warehouse and the remainder of the Hitman Team....

The Boss held his blades across his chest.

"Requiescat in Pace, child."

The Boss moved to charge at Neo, attempting to not even give her a chance to breathe or think of a counter to his savage and powerful swipes. As the blades closed in and as she reacted however she may, Neo could have glimpsed Char's pale complexion in the reflection of the Boss's weapons. The Null Zone's glow was growing dimmer and dimmer by the second. Char's hands around Riot Breaker's hilt seemed unsteady. As though he were just moments away from keeling over. Char knew that if that happened, the Boss wouldn't have wasted a second resuming using his semblance.

The Boss knew it too.

Each swipe seemed simply like the actions of an undignified brute. Jack didn't have much experience fighting anyone who could defend themselves and the Boss-needless to say-was more than a bit rusty after watching from the shadows for so long. But it didn't really matter whether how many or if any of his strikes hit home. He'd mentioned something about running out the clock? All it'd take is for Char's strength to give and this would all be over.

Char's legs trembled.

The Boss could hardly contain himself.

"Hehehehe...Hahahaha!"

She'd already been able to tell from their clashes earlier (and when he'd piledrived her face), but as the boss turned it up a notch, it was even more clear

This dude was kind of a freak of nature.

The furious swipes this guy were putting out rippled through the air like one of Hazel's punches. If they connected, it would've cracked her aura in just a few hits and she would've been at The Boss' mercy, semblence or not be damned.

Too bad that was never gonna happen.

A4bO39u.gif


This was the sort of fighter Neopolitan ate for breakfast. She danced around his wild swings like she'd choreographed the fight from the start, years of practice and months of sparring with Beacon's premiere best meaning that even if the boss' rippling muscles made those swings come out like engine pistons, and even if it would've only taken one hit for the fight to come to a close, she wasn't ever where he wanted her to be when those swings came out.

And after the first few leans and hops, it was clear she wasn't intending on keeping her reprises light anymore. She'd gotten the boss' measure as a fighter in the last minute; she knew what risks were dangerous and which ones she could take for free.

One particular wild swing was sidestepped, and with the gentlest step forward Neo was in range to slam Hush' extended blade straight into his gut full strength, the street flaring bright red as he tore a gouge in his aura. Instead of retreating, she stepped even closer inside the boss' range and piroutted to his back, too close for an easy hit with his long blades as hush flipped around and its handle slammed into the back of his skull. Whichever way the boss tried to turn, Neo's quick steps went the other way around, keeping her to his back as her hand lashed out to grip his own wrist and use like it was a high bar to swing herself around in a graceful are, twisting the arm up with her in a display of sheer technical prowess overpowering the arm's strength, before she swung back down, planted her heels into the boss' side, and torqued herself backwards to fling the boss straight around into the sky as she released and hit the ground in a back handspring.

She gripped Hush' blade, started to pull it free from its scabbard, a determined smile on her face as she tilted her head back to track the boss' arc through the air for one final blow to put and end to his miserable reign.

Then she heard a thud from where Char had been standing as he finally succumbed to exhaustion, and both her eyes turned pale white as they snapped over to him and tried to turn back towards where she'd just tossed the wind user straight into his now freed element-
 
This was the sort of fighter Neopolitan ate for breakfast. She danced around his wild swings like she'd choreographed the fight from the start, years of practice and months of sparring with Beacon's premiere best meaning that even if the boss' rippling muscles made those swings come out like engine pistons, and even if it would've only taken one hit for the fight to come to a close, she wasn't ever where he wanted her to be when those swings came out.

And after the first few leans and hops, it was clear she wasn't intending on keeping her reprises light anymore. She'd gotten the boss' measure as a fighter in the last minute; she knew what risks were dangerous and which ones she could take for free.

One particular wild swing was sidestepped, and with the gentlest step forward Neo was in range to slam Hush' extended blade straight into his gut full strength, the street flaring bright red as he tore a gouge in his aura. Instead of retreating, she stepped even closer inside the boss' range and piroutted to his back, too close for an easy hit with his long blades as hush flipped around and its handle slammed into the back of his skull. Whichever way the boss tried to turn, Neo's quick steps went the other way around, keeping her to his back as her hand lashed out to grip his own wrist and use like it was a high bar to swing herself around in a graceful are, twisting the arm up with her in a display of sheer technical prowess overpowering the arm's strength, before she swung back down, planted her heels into the boss' side, and torqued herself backwards to fling the boss straight around into the sky as she released and hit the ground in a back handspring.
The Boss was in utter disbelief.

This...child had done what nobody had done in nearly twenty years?

She'd made him hurt.

But for as angry as the whole situation made him(and it did. Unrelenting anger as a matter of fact), he didn't scream or yell.

He knew the victory was his....In due time.
She gripped Hush' blade, started to pull it free from its scabbard, a determined smile on her face as she tilted her head back to track the boss' arc through the air for one final blow to put and end to his miserable reign.
Char stumbled.

'I...I'm sorry, kid. I really think I've reached my limit here...'

Riot Breaker clattered to the ground and Char followed soon after.

"Damn it..." He muttered weakly. If only he'd tried harder....

If only he'd been stronger.

Then the light faded.
Then she heard a thud from where Char had been standing as he finally succumbed to exhaustion, and both her eyes turned pale white as they snapped over to him and tried to turn back towards where she'd just tossed the wind user straight into his now freed element-


He'd heard Char hit the ground.

He closed his hands and opened them and felt the wind flowing through his fingers once again.

He smiled.

Floating gently in the night sky, the Boss turned and gazed down at Neo and Char-unconscious as he was-and chuckled.

"Poor."


Before Neo had known what'd happened, the Boss was upon her. Grabbing her by the collar of her shirt, he pulled her back off her feet and smashed her headfirst into the ground. The cycling of her aura shimmering from her head down to her feet bringing him such a sense of satisfaction. He'd gotten back in control just as he knew he would. Letting go of Neo's shirt, the collar now ruffled and crumpled up, he thrust his hand out and the huntress was assaulted by stray gusts of wind bodying her chest and legs. Knocking her further and further back and despite all that, the gangster had disappeared once again. The wind howled and a stray gust rattled Riot Breaker from where it lay dormant on the floor, it's owner a few feet away.

It was then that Neo felt the Boss's voice against her ear as he knelt down to speak to her.

"It's just as I told you before. Nobody is immune to the peaks and valleys of life. We must all face hardship. But, someone such as I...? I always come out on top. Every single time without fail.
" Neo felt a fist smash into her back enough to rattle her aura but not shatter that. "....Neo was it? Your 'mission' to protect Char has come to an end. Now may the cold unflinching hands of death carry you to your eternal sleep." He spoke as calmly and as though he were reciting a lullaby to a child who had difficulty sleeping. Neo could see his right hand raise up in the reflection of Riot Breaker's blade and as he swung it down-

~~~

Blanco had seen enough.

He cared not for the elitisms and arrogance that the Boss's higher ranking subordinates claimed to have. In the end, they were all nothing but degenerates and psychopaths. Every single one of them and if this was the kind of man they'd send to interrupt a murder investigation? Blanco had his doubts that the Boss was a man worth following. As Tyrian and Callie kept the-up to this point-mute jester on his toes, Blanco had subtly moved his way forward. Closing the distance while the leader of the Spiders and the faunus(who's hand had been completely mangled by Ghastly), Ghastly noticed the leader of the Community Team and lunged.

Only this time, they were ready for him.

Callie and Tyrian opened fire with their respective weapons. Ghastly's aura lit up and for once, he spoke.

Well, kinda.

"Mmmrmf...." He groaned. It sounded as though he were muffled.

Unable to keep his footing steady, he worriedly lashed out as Blanco approached.

"I don't think so, bastardo. It's over for you and your cruel ability...because mine..."

Blanco swung at Ghastly and scored a direct hit. Ghastly watched his aura flare...and crack as though the spot that Blanco had punched had been ripped in twain. "Mrffff!!!" Ghastly shrieked but Blanco was in mood for forgiveness. "IS EVEN MORE SAVAGE!!" He unleashed a storm of punches upon the jester. His aura splitting and blows landing upon the flesh underneath-

~~~

"PERISH!"

"ARI!~"

~~~
Ghastly's skin tore open in various places and his mask had been ripped to pieces.

Falling upon the ground, he gagged and writhed. It was once his mask had been removed fully that the others could see why he'd struggled so much with talking.

His lips had been sewn shut. A stark reminder of the Elite's loyalty to the Boss.

Violet and Vanile glanced over. The Elite they'd been forced to bring with had just gotten fucked up....

"Shit."

Vanile's first word in the past few hours.
~~~

*CRACK*

The Boss's chop swung down to smash right into Neo's right shoulder, knocking the poor girl to the ground.

Rising to his full height, he stood over her, a victorious glint in his eyes.

"Hahahahahah! This was truly a test of wills! Unfortunately for you, whelp, MINE proved to be stronger!"
 
"Of that, I have no doubt. Take the time you need, I assure you there will be plenty of it for you. You will remain here with me, for quite some time." She replied with a faint snicker. "After all, you shall also need some guidance on how to best harness your new power, and I have a new host to get familiar with." The expression on her face grew eager. Combat training, it had been quite some time since that had proven necessary. Glyphs, summoning...oh yes, this would prove quite interesting indeed. "But we shall get to that later." Weiss fell silent for the rest of the walk. The doors to the throne room opened loudly and announcing their arrival to the rest already gathered. Weiss's body strode past all of them, ascended the steps, and calmly took a seat upon the dark throne that now belonged to her. An equally dark smile emerged on her face, and that, coupled with her eyes made a very intimidating sight. Her fingers interlaced as she waited for them all to kneel, as befit one in the presence of a god.

Once they all had, she spoke up again. "For some of you I expect it is rather strange to see me like this, but make no mistake that it is me in here. Every bit the same Ozpin you pledged to serve. There may be times that...Weiss may foolishly try to reassert control. But worry not, she will not be able to do that for much longer before she is completely gone, forgotten, and this form will belong only to me. It is inevitable." Her eyes moved from one to the next, taking all of them in. Blake, the Dragon, Pyrrha, Ren, Leonardo, her secret weapon, the other members of the Shadow Fang...and settled on Carnelian. "On to business, then."

Weiss leaned forward in her seat. "Atlas stands with us." She repeated, almost incredulously. Even now, even with the trust put in Blake and Yang, it still seemed too good to be true. Ironwood, turning on Salem and the rest? Truly unexpected. Yet, one of their top generals was in this very room. That, and the brief scouring through Weiss's own memories of their betrayal backed it up. Was it fear or the desire to protect that drove them to take those actions? No matter. They were here. "I would very much like to hear the story of how that came to pass, from your mouth especially, general. That, as well as... what of the relics that were within the boundaries of this kingdom? The whole reason I brought my legions to Atlas's doorstep. The lamp of knowledge and the staff of creation, where are they?" The whale grimm they were all within continued to soar forward, its current destination unclear to all but one.

2z5oI5S.png


"And do not even think of lying or trying to keep things from me."


As much faith as Blake had in her Talons—and as much as that faith was justified—the predicament they had been left in one was not one to take lightly. Three wounded soldiers, ripped from their element of shadow into the harsh light of day and confined to a single cluttered platform bobbing on tumultous waves, the supposedly loyal army of their Hand's ally acting anything but and bearing down on them from all sides. The Dragon was still spasmodic, her screams wretched, the way she spoke in tongues less the babblings of a seizure victim and more like something vast and unknowable was trying to speak through her, and the Grimm seemingly endless; the ultimate apex predator of all they saw, human and faunus alike. It was a situation many of even the most skilled of huntsman teams would have fallen to. They had only one advantage.

At their side was an apex predator of an entirely different breed.



It was one thing to watch Borous Carnelian in battle, wielding violence and wrath like a musician wielded their instrument in the pursuit of a mission or goal. Horrifying enough through the right pair of eyes, but a sight that held little in the way of surprise for any Talon in particular.

What they saw down there...

Not even Bear could speak to it. It wasn't mere violence; it was indulgence. The fullest extent of a temperament so truly vile, so naturally subsumed in the depths of bloodshed and rage and a poisoned, wrathful hate that it could've made even the oldest of Grimm do a double-take; made them question whether the butcher rending them to pieces was one of theirs in a manner entirely separate from whatever affinity they shared with Dragon. The Grimm died in droves. They died in agony. They were already frenzied, already driven mad by the consuming, ravaging pain of Merlot's serum, and yet when the Butcher was on them their screams grew so much worse.

It spoke to just what kind of existence Carnelian was. What lurked below the surface of that grandfatherly amicability, the stern exterior, the neat dress and slicked-back hair. Something that didn't belong in the world of human, faunus, or Grimm, yet somehow managed to embody qualities from all three; The imperialistic, unrelenting desire to conquer. The honed, animalistic instinct of the wild. The sheer, unmitigated desire to do harm, to cut and rend and crush and make bleed.

A monster.

He had been quiet, solemn even in the time since Ozpin had managed to quell and purge his creations. Nothing was said or done to frighten, aggravate or taunt his faunus allies-by-circumstance the entire way up to the throne room. When they arrived, he had stepped silently towards the throne, paced a single circle around it, then dropped to his knees; gingerly, almost with reverence, he had set out his blades, one by one, until a collection of six lay neatly before him. He had leaned forward, head touching the floor, his hands flat to either side of it as if in a state of prayer to some dark god. Then he hadn't moved.

In about twenty minutes.

That was how Ozpin found him, on Her arrival; there would be no waiting for him to kneel, the wizened killer already fully prostrated before Her throne as the others fell in beside him. He did not raise his head until She addressed him, lifting his gaze with nothing save a passing twinkle of knowing amusement in his eye for Her new form and the ultimate fate of Weiss Schnee.

"Very flattering, lord Ozpin. Lady? Which would you prefer?"

Either way, the deferential, eloquently cordial tones of the type of old man you might meet going for a stroll in the park on a Sunday were back, tinged with a note of gleeful awe as he smiled politely at his new master's question.

"I'm glad you asked. Speaking for myself, it's quite simple. I've known the Schnee pup a long time, you see. Ever since she was a little girl. Her affinity for lies, duplicity and betrayal were as much part of her nature as a weapon she pointed at you; She was always telling lies. Always alienating people. It came as natural to her as breathing, or... Breakfast."

He gave a light chuckle. Ozpin felt a wave of angry indignation crest over Her mind from deep within at the words, coming dangerously close to seizing control before She managed to quash it.

"A born politician, really. It's no surprise she's one of three people I've ever met who managed to figure out a way of hiding things from me. I've always suspected, but that little stunt with your army removed any doubt; as far as her innermost thoughts reflected, the councilwoman's resolve crumbled the moment your young Shadow Fang associate butchered her sister. A shame, that. But a fine piece of work all the same." He didn't look over at Blake, but there was no way to describe his words as anything other than complimentary.

"Far as I could tell, Weiss had every intent to take a run at you and die trying. To a certain extent, I'm sure that's true. Yet that truth became a smokescreen to keep her other truths hidden. Whatever else there is to be said about her weakness of character, the bitch's mental discipline..." He whistled. "Something to behold. Perhaps you're already learning that for yourself. So why am I here? Well, it's simple."

For just a moment, his smile turned bitter. The gleam in his eye, sinister.

"I don't like those exceptions. Blinders, I call 'em; and there's a reason the other two are dead. I could tell you the darkest secrets of anyone in this room, but with people like her..." He tsked. "Never know when I might get a false positive. When she had me instated, I was promised an opportunity to wet my blade and relive my glory days before I faded away in the frozen corner of hell Ironwood shipped me off to. I didn't get that. Outside of a chain of paperwork keeping me tethered to my desk and a few unfortunate incidents demanding animal control—"

His smirk grew crueler when he said that.

"—all I got was this."

He lifted his hand to his face, lifting away the reconstructive mask Merlot had installed to reveal the horrors beneath.

It was a mess. For all the flesh Eve had carved away with her teeth, more still had to be shorn off due to infection; the bone around his cybernetic eye was completely visible, the point where it gave way to plate metal and circuitry plain to see. There was a dark, ugly discoloration to the sinew, gnarled and tattered bits of skin hanging over it as if it were a sunburn that went ignored too long and festered. For the very first time in his life, Borous Carnelian looked every bit as horrifying, terrible and vile as his soul was.

"And my opportunity at payback on the savage mutt who did it ripped away from me. Oh, I had all sorts of plans for that one. She was the product of a great deal of time and effort on my part, and Weiss Schnee just ends her in a blink like that. Pah." He sneered. "So after a few whiskeys I got to thinking that the councilwoman had no intention of honoring any of her promises to me. In fact, I'm quite certain she had every intention of killing me the second my blade stopped being useful enough to keep around. Miss Schnee was something of a futurist, and her and I never quite saw eye to eye on certain matters. Politically, I mean. You know how this current generation can be."

He chuckled again, indulgent and wry.

"So it's really that simple, your grace. When your woman approached me I saw an opportunity for an old man to ply his trade one last time among the kind of company he really belongs with. The life of a desk jockey ain't for me; that's not gonna be how I go out, withering away like some ancient tree. I can oversee a majority transfer of power back to Ironwood, ensure he toes the line and maintains your best interests at heart. Much like you're doing with poor old Leo there. In return, all I ask is that you let me be the sword that skewers your enemies; the soldier who lays their screaming heads at your feet. I assure you nothing, and I mean nothing, would make an old man happier. As for the relics—"

"I lost 'em."

h0kueo5tdj451.png

The Dragon had been so quiet since Ozpin's return it was almost easy to forget she was in the room, shockingly little to say with regard to Ozpin's new body for one so liable to voice her glowing approval of it under normal circumstances. She had been quiet ever since recovering from her ordeal with Weiss's chemical weapon, and neglected to kneel with the others; instead she sat near the far end of their council table, hunched at the shoulders in a manner that far from reflected her standard glib exuberance as she nursed her arm like a wounded animal of some kind might nurse a cub.

That was only part of her reticence. Frankly, Ozpin had barely even held her attention since returning to the throne room; it could've been Yang's own body she was wearing like a suit and she wouldn't have cared. Her stare had been transfixed squarely in one among their number's direction ever since she first came into view, and while it was impossible to put an exact label on the conglomeration of feelings churning on her face it would've been wrong to describe any of them as good. Perhaps her emotional vampire arm had yet to fully recover from what Weiss ravaged it with, its effects dampened somewhat as a bit more of the true Yang poked out from the husk of unstable hedonism the Dragon had become since their joining. Her voice was slightly dry as she finally lent it to the conversation, lips cracked and tongue like lead.

"They got away with the stupid things. Look, this whole thing was my pony show; I got the angry mob together and kicked in Schnee's door. But that slutty blonde and the runt were there, and my mom—My birth mom." She felt the need to clarify, eyes darting elsewhere and then back. "And I guess it all just..."


The way she let her head loll back, jerk forward and slam up against the hardlight field was like something out of a horror movie, if the monster were trying to escape the screen and had its eyes locked on Ruby in a soulless, empty stare.

"̶W̵h̷y̷ ̷d̵o̶n̵t̴c̶h̸a̴ ̸j̸u̵s̴t̴ ̴l̶a̵y̷ ̷b̷a̷c̶k̴ ̷a̸n̷d̵ ̸l̵e̷m̴m̷e̶ ̶p̵o̸k̶e̴ ̷o̶u̴t̴ ̸y̶o̸u̵r̵ ̵f̸u̸c̷k̴i̵n̶g̷ ̶e̵y̴e̶s̷"̷̷


She shrugged listlessly. "I dunno. I lost my shit, more or less. Kinda fucked any sense of tactical cohesion we had going up the ass. So if there's someone to blame for the fact that we're here but the relics aren't... I'm it. Big surprise, huh?"

She smiled weakly, trying to reinject at least a hint of her playfully seductive tone from before as she curled a few locks of hair around one finger.

"You forgive me though, right pop? You can't stay mad at this face."
 
Last edited:
~~~

*CRACK*

The Boss's chop swung down to smash right into Neo's right shoulder, knocking the poor girl to the ground.

Rising to his full height, he stood over her, a victorious glint in his eyes.

"Hahahahahah! This was truly a test of wills! Unfortunately for you, whelp, MINE proved to be stronger!"


Neo cried out in pain

It was one of the few times she could make a noise; even if it was a raspy, barely there sound, the sheer physical reflex wasn’t something her mind could shut off as that final blow shattered both her aura and the shoulder bone beneath it. She crumpled to the ground in a heap as the boss raised his fist in victory.

Then she started to get back up

Hush’s stiletto blade stabbed into the ground as Neo forced herself up to her knees and tilted her bloodied face up towards the boss. The cocky, self sure smile was gone, hot tears spilling down her face, but they weren’t of despair or fear.

She was angry. Furious at herself for not being to get this done, and this shitty master-race serial killing jackass for thinking this was something to lord over her and… terrified about what was going to happen to Mercury and Emerald now. They weren’t any better suited to face this guy than she was, were they? They were gonna get hurt.

The anger was already dissipating as the horrible realization hit her.

She’d failed, again.

By the time the Boss was raising his fist or knives to finish the job, her head was hung, listless.

“Aurora Beige.”

Then it snapped up in confusion as a voice called out to them from above.

A literal angel was descending from the heavens

At least, thats what her bleary, concussed vision was telling her. The Boss saw something different; a winged faunus flapping to land a few dozen yards away. He had sharp features and shockingly bright red hair, spiked backkwards by the ever present wind flowing through it. Well shined combat boots landed easily on the streets, and he took the few moments borne of surprise he had to reach into his long coat and pull out a cigarette.

He snapped two gloved fingers together, and both lit aflame. He held one up to his cigarette before he shook his hand to put the little fires out, and took a long drag before he levelled his gaze on The Boss.

“You’re a hard man to find, Mr. Beige. At least, this version of you. Or should we be calling you something else?”

The boots, the coat, the uniform he was in was the sort that The Boss could’ve identified on the spot; he’d have done his fair share of bribery, threatening, and murder of his sort to get where he was.



Mistrali Authorities. The Joint Mistrali Law and Defense Union. Supposedly hamstrung after the CCT towers fell, always three steps behind the boss or simply in his pocket depending on the year, and now one of them with lieutenant bands on his arm was standing right before him, his eyes devoid of the deference or fear even the mere mention of his moniker or the bound ashes as a whole would’ve normally commanded. They looked almost bored

The faunus took another drag from his cigarette and blew a puff of smoke into the air before his made his formal declaration to the boss, seemingly alone, the winds of his target's semblance still swirling around him.

“You’re under arrest for crimes against Mistral. I suggest you come quietly.”
 
Hush’s stiletto blade stabbed into the ground as Neo forced herself up to her knees and tilted her bloodied face up towards the boss. The cocky, self sure smile was gone, hot tears spilling down her face, but they weren’t of despair or fear.

She was angry. Furious at herself for not being to get this done, and this shitty master-race serial killing jackass for thinking this was something to lord over her and… terrified about what was going to happen to Mercury and Emerald now. They weren’t any better suited to face this guy than she was, were they? They were gonna get hurt.


The Boss simply stood up and sneered that venomous smile.

The knives were sheathed and he took a step closer.

"You need not cry, child." He stated as he reached out to gently stroke Neo's head, his fingers running through her hair.

Then he roughly grabbed a handful and picked her off the ground leaving her feet dangling. The other hand grabbed Hush and sought to rip it from her hands.

"This is a joyous occasion after all!"

He raised his free hand to stand above Neo's head.

The anger was already dissipating as the horrible realization hit her.

She’d failed, again.
"Hahahaha, I can assure you of this much: the trip to the afterlife won't be lonely...."

He gripped tighter onto her hair.

"...After I've finished murdering you and Char, you and your friends can all burn in Hell together."
By the time the Boss was raising his fist or knives to finish the job, her head was hung, listless.
"Now...You'll plague me no longer, Neopolitan! DIE!!!!!! BEGONE FROM THIS WORLD AND RETURN TO NOTHING!"

His hand swung down and Neo felt the wind gently cascade over her hair but given that her skull hadn't been split in twain, it was a fair enough guess that she was still alive.

For now.
“Aurora Beige.”

Then it snapped up in confusion as a voice called out to them from above.

A literal angel was descending from the heavens

At least, thats what her bleary, concussed vision was telling her. The Boss saw something different; a winged faunus flapping to land a few dozen yards away. He had sharp features and shockingly bright red hair, spiked backkwards by the ever present wind flowing through it. Well shined combat boots landed easily on the streets, and he took the few moments borne of surprise he had to reach into his long coat and pull out a cigarette.

He snapped two gloved fingers together, and both lit aflame. He held one up to his cigarette before he shook his hand to put the little fires out, and took a long drag before he levelled his gaze on The Boss.
Due to her unwilling proximity to him, Neo could feel the waves of seething hatred flowing off the Boss.

It was bad enough somebody else had shown up.

It was even worse what kind of somebody as well.

Neo for the umpteenth time was dropped to the ground.

The Boss's shoulders rise and fell as he fumed and flared his nostrils. "I don't even know where to start...."
“You’re a hard man to find, Mr. Beige. At least, this version of you. Or should we be calling you something else?”
That very question shook the Boss to his core.

It was supposed to be avoiding that question altogether that lead to him doing this in the first place.

If anyone knew he and the Mistral Murderer were one in the same, it stood to reason somebody would eventually figure out the same between Aurora and himself.

I-It was fine. It didn't matter. No...No, this hadn't gotten out of hand. He could still fix this. It was just one godforsaken animal. He could just kill him and then go about cleaning up the rest of this mess. Yes, that sounded just right to him. "My name...." The Boss started as he tilted his head up to stare at the faunus.

tenor.gif


"Santana Crimson."

That was the name his birth records had shown. Before they mysteriously disappeared years ago/any attempt to recover them were quietly shut down behind the scenes...because private investigators/detectives/nosy busybodies kept disappearing. The name brought to mind the amalgam of horrific creatures slathered or stained in the crimson gold that the Boss had spilled so much to stood where he did today. Only one other person lived that knew his name until now. The only woman that the man who became the Boss had ever loved. The only person ever perhaps. But as of this very moment that 'honor' extended to Neo and this animal.

"I've spent....twenty...long years keeping that a secret. Who I am a secret. Aurora has no relevancy here. I am who I am. You should consider yourself lucky for getting this close to figure that out. I'm sure so many of your colleagues wished they'd lived long enough to say they share the same honor." He mocked. The wind started picking up around the Boss, rolling Neo across the ground and near Char's fallen body.
Mistrali Authorities. The Joint Mistrali Law and Defense Union. Supposedly hamstrung after the CCT towers fell, always three steps behind the boss or simply in his pocket depending on the year, and now one of them with lieutenant bands on his arm was standing right before him, his eyes devoid of the deference or fear even the mere mention of his moniker or the bound ashes as a whole would’ve normally commanded. They looked almost bored

The faunus took another drag from his cigarette and blew a puff of smoke into the air before his made his formal declaration to the boss, seemingly alone, the winds of his target's semblance still swirling around him.
"....A lieutenant, eh? What? Did one of my men skimp on paying you or your men a bribe? That's the only reason I can think of you to be here..." The winds started growing a bit more wild as though one were standing near the apex of a raging tornado. "It couldn't be because you plan on stopping me or getting in my way. Anything like that would...why...that'd just be a death wish."

The Boss/Santana strode closer.

"So...tell me, why are you here, bird?"
“You’re under arrest for crimes against Mistral. I suggest you come quietly.”
The Boss/Santana looked absolutely dumbfounded.

Then he realized the joke he'd been told.

"Hehhee....HAHAHAHAH!"

7059625-tenor%20%283%29.gif


"YOU really think that sounds logical? Repeat it back to yourself. I'm the ruler of the Bound Ashes! If it weren't for me, animals like the ones currently infesting our fine city would be roaming free and doing as they see fit! I keep Mistral safe and sound! It is through me that Mistral and it's people prosper! What's good for me is good for Mistral! So...to hear you say...that I'm under arrest? I can't help but laugh...But again you deserve to be commended. You're the first person in a long time to ever find out my name." The Boss's eyes narrowed as he blasted off from the ground.

"IT'S TOO BAD THAT KNOWLEDGE IS SOMETHING YOU'LL HAVE TO TAKE TO YOUR GRAVE!"
 
That was how Ozpin found him, on Her arrival; there would be no waiting for him to kneel, the wizened killer already fully prostrated before Her throne as the others fell in beside him. He did not raise his head until She addressed him, lifting his gaze with nothing save a passing twinkle of knowing amusement in his eye for Her new form and the ultimate fate of Weiss Schnee.

"Very flattering, lord Ozpin. Lady? Which would you prefer?"

"Lord." Though technically both would have been correct, that one was the one preferred.​

Either way, the deferential, eloquently cordial tones of the type of old man you might meet going for a stroll in the park on a Sunday were back, tinged with a note of gleeful awe as he smiled politely at his new master's question.

"I'm glad you asked. Speaking for myself, it's quite simple. I've known the Schnee pup a long time, you see. Ever since she was a little girl. Her affinity for lies, duplicity and betrayal were as much part of her nature as a weapon she pointed at you; She was always telling lies. Always alienating people. It came as natural to her as breathing, or... Breakfast."

He gave a light chuckle. Ozpin felt a wave of angry indignation crest over Her mind from deep within at the words, coming dangerously close to seizing control before She managed to quash it.

"A born politician, really. It's no surprise she's one of three people I've ever met who managed to figure out a way of hiding things from me. I've always suspected, but that little stunt with your army removed any doubt; as far as her innermost thoughts reflected, the councilwoman's resolve crumbled the moment your young Shadow Fang associate butchered her sister. A shame, that. But a fine piece of work all the same." He didn't look over at Blake, but there was no way to describe his words as anything other than complimentary.

"Far as I could tell, Weiss had every intent to take a run at you and die trying. To a certain extent, I'm sure that's true. Yet that truth became a smokescreen to keep her other truths hidden. Whatever else there is to be said about her weakness of character, the bitch's mental discipline..." He whistled. "Something to behold. Perhaps you're already learning that for yourself. So why am I here? Well, it's simple."

For just a moment, his smile turned bitter. The gleam in his eye, sinister.

"I don't like those exceptions. Blinders, I call 'em; and there's a reason the other two are dead. I could tell you the darkest secrets of anyone in this room, but with people like her..." He tsked. "Never know when I might get a false positive. When she had me instated, I was promised an opportunity to wet my blade and relive my glory days before I faded away in the frozen corner of hell Ironwood shipped me off to. I didn't get that. Outside of a chain of paperwork keeping me tethered to my desk and a few unfortunate incidents demanding animal control—"

His smirk grew crueler when he said that.

"—all I got was this."

He lifted his hand to his face, lifting away the reconstructive mask Merlot had installed to reveal the horrors beneath.

It was a mess. For all the flesh Eve had carved away with her teeth, more still had to be shorn off due to infection; the bone around his cybernetic eye was completely visible, the point where it gave way to plate metal and circuitry plain to see. There was a dark, ugly discoloration to the sinew, gnarled and tattered bits of skin hanging over it as if it were a sunburn that went ignored too long and festered. For the very first time in his life, Borous Carnelian looked every bit as horrifying, terrible and vile as his soul was.

She listened with keen interest, hands folded together and one or two malicious chuckles of her own escaping Weiss's lips, especially at the burning indignation she felt swelling inside before it was buried once more. And when they reached the part where the general removed the mask he wore and expose what remained of the face beneath...Ozpin, Weiss, Ozweiss, whatever one wished to call them, that face didn't flinch in horror, twist up in disgust or even change at all. Her face might as well have been composed of stone for all that it changed. The damage was severe, the general's face an utter mess but Weiss did not even comment on it.​

"And my opportunity at payback on the savage mutt who did it ripped away from me. Oh, I had all sorts of plans for that one. She was the product of a great deal of time and effort on my part, and Weiss Schnee just ends her in a blink like that. Pah." He sneered. "So after a few whiskeys I got to thinking that the councilwoman had no intention of honoring any of her promises to me. In fact, I'm quite certain she had every intention of killing me the second my blade stopped being useful enough to keep around. Miss Schnee was something of a futurist, and her and I never quite saw eye to eye on certain matters. Politically, I mean. You know how this current generation can be."

He chuckled again, indulgent and wry.

"So it's really that simple, your grace. When your woman approached me I saw an opportunity for an old man to ply his trade one last time among the kind of company he really belongs with. The life of a desk jockey ain't for me; that's not gonna be how I go out, withering away like some ancient tree. I can oversee a majority transfer of power back to Ironwood, ensure he toes the line and maintains your best interests at heart. Much like you're doing with poor old Leo there. In return, all I ask is that you let me be the sword that skewers your enemies; the soldier who lays their screaming heads at your feet. I assure you nothing, and I mean nothing, would make an old man happier."

But when they had just about reached the end of Carnelian's explanation, she nodded, satisfied. Nothing about that seemed to be a fabrication or anything but the simple truth. If she was wrong about that, if there was more to it than that, then that would be a bridge to be crossed later, but for now that didn't seem to be anything other than the truth. A simple and genuine desire, yet another blade that she could point at her enemies and let them do what they did best. Her eyes glanced toward Blake for a moment before returning to the general. The answer was just as simple as the request made from the old man.

"Done."

LolKpQD.jpg


"You will not lack for enemies to destroy."

"I lost 'em."

h0kueo5tdj451.png


The Dragon had been so quiet since Ozpin's return it was almost easy to forget she was in the room, shockingly little to say with regard to Ozpin's new body for one so liable to voice her glowing approval of it under normal circumstances. She had been quiet ever since recovering from her ordeal with Weiss's chemical weapon, and neglected to kneel with the others; instead she sat near the far end of their council table, hunched at the shoulders in a manner that far from reflected her standard glib exuberance as she nursed her arm like a wounded animal of some kind might nurse a cub.

That was only part of her reticence. Frankly, Ozpin had barely even held her attention since returning to the throne room; it could've been Yang's own body she was wearing like a suit and she wouldn't have cared. Her stare had been transfixed squarely in one among their number's direction ever since she first came into view, and while it was impossible to put an exact label on the conglomeration of feelings churning on her face it would've been wrong to describe any of them as good. Perhaps her emotional vampire arm had yet to fully recover from what Weiss ravaged it with, its effects dampened somewhat as a bit more of the true Yang poked out from the husk of unstable hedonism the Dragon had become since their joining. Her voice was slightly dry as she finally lent it to the conversation, lips cracked and tongue like lead.

"They got away with the stupid things. Look, this whole thing was my pony show; I got the angry mob together and kicked in Schnee's door. But that slutty blonde and the runt were there, and my mom—My birth mom." She felt the need to clarify, eyes darting elsewhere and then back. "And I guess it all just..."

She shrugged listlessly. "I dunno. I lost my shit, more or less. Kinda fucked any sense of tactical cohesion we had going up the ass. So if there's someone to blame for the fact that we're here but the relics aren't... I'm it. Big surprise, huh?"

She smiled weakly, trying to reinject at least a hint of her playfully seductive tone from before as she curled a few locks of hair around one finger.

"You forgive me though, right pop? You can't stay mad at this face."

But when the matter of the relics were elaborated upon by the Dragon, any hint of that pleasant mood was gone. It disappeared so swiftly, so suddenly, that one might have questioned if it had ever sincerely been there at all. "The relics...you let them slip through your fingers." The tone was as icy cold as one might have expected from someone who looked and sounded almost exactly like Weiss Schnee, but the expression on her face...it was seething with so much rage there was no mistaking that it was Ozpin holding the reins in there. And yet, that anger was not acted upon. There was no flipping of the table, no attempt at summoning grimm to torment Yang or just directly torturing her by inflicting sheer pain on the grimm appendage the dragon wielded. Whether that was because of Ozpin's currently weaker and vulnerable state, the fact that torture would be less than effective on a shameless masochist, or if it was that beyond this failure, Yang had done remarkably well in securing Atlas...it was impossible to determine the reasoning behind it. Weiss did not share that information, and it was hard to gauge the truth from the look upon her face.

Perhaps it was all three.

Whatever the case, Weiss exhaled and her face relaxed. Ozpin's rage evaporated. "There is nothing to forgive, daughter." Weiss said with a smile, doing what she could to ease Yang's concern. "You have secured Atlas for me, brought capable allies into the fold, and delivered to me this traitor's body. One that I will put to the best of uses, while she screams and suffers as she watches all I do until she is nothing. Beyond that, you have given me opportunity. We shall go after the relics, together. In turn, I shall give you opportunity. Your birth mother...tell me, how satisfied would you be if we bring her to her knees, make her suffer pure agony, extinguish any pitiful hope she has, and then finally, to have your own hands feel her neck snap in your grasp?" The smile widened, though she did not wait for an answer before glancing at the others.

"The relics, where did they take them?"
 
But when the matter of the relics were elaborated upon by the Dragon, any hint of that pleasant mood was gone. It disappeared so swiftly, so suddenly, that one might have questioned if it had ever sincerely been there at all. "The relics...you let them slip through your fingers." The tone was as icy cold as one might have expected from someone who looked and sounded almost exactly like Weiss Schnee, but the expression on her face...it was seething with so much rage there was no mistaking that it was Ozpin holding the reins in there. And yet, that anger was not acted upon. There was no flipping of the table, no attempt at summoning grimm to torment Yang or just directly torturing her by inflicting sheer pain on the grimm appendage the dragon wielded. Whether that was because of Ozpin's currently weaker and vulnerable state, the fact that torture would be less than effective on a shameless masochist, or if it was that beyond this failure, Yang had done remarkably well in securing Atlas...it was impossible to determine the reasoning behind it. Weiss did not share that information, and it was hard to gauge the truth from the look upon her face.

Perhaps it was all three.

Whatever the case, Weiss exhaled and her face relaxed. Ozpin's rage evaporated. "There is nothing to forgive, daughter." Weiss said with a smile, doing what she could to ease Yang's concern. "You have secured Atlas for me, brought capable allies into the fold, and delivered to me this traitor's body. One that I will put to the best of uses, while she screams and suffers as she watches all I do until she is nothing. Beyond that, you have given me opportunity. We shall go after the relics, together. In turn, I shall give you opportunity. Your birth mother...tell me, how satisfied would you be if we bring her to her knees, make her suffer pure agony, extinguish any pitiful hope she has, and then finally, to have your own hands feel her neck snap in your grasp?" The smile widened, though she did not wait for an answer before glancing at the others.

"The relics, where did they take them?"


"Heh, hey, sounds like my kinda..." She started receptively enough, flicker of a grin reigniting after being cowed by a look that confirmed beyond any shadow of a doubt that the entity sitting in the throne was Ozpin all the way through. But it was still, ultimately, a smile notably lacking in the kind of vicious euphoria such a suggestion may have ordinarily provoked in the savage brute, and when the lord of Grimm turned her gaze away without waiting it was to the benefit of the more ambivalent stare that hijacked the Dragon's features again as her eyes reverted immediately to the chalk-white cloak blanketing one of the figures genuflecting before the tone.

766094287338995722.png

"The invading Remnant's Branwen woman managed to exfiltrate them to Vacuo with the lamp, sir." Carnelian informed with a dutiful, blasé air, no reservations whatsoever about reverting to a subordinative bearing after having spent so many years among the rank and file. It always did suit him better than an officer's stripes, truth be told. "Your current host used its final question to pummel the Shadow Fang as soon as they arrived in the kingdom after one of theirs provoked her with an unsanctioned play. So it's essentially a prop for now. The staff, well, that's a little trickier to determine. It's not entirely clear what happened there."

He sent an innocuous, unaccusing look Blake's way and smiled again, though it was grim.

"However, based on what I've been able to glean and who remains unaccounted for after we dismantled her players I'd wager it ended up in the hands of one Doctor Merlot. Strange, unsavory sort. Smart, but tanked his own reputation in those sorts of circles. Same fella responsible for what Schnee did to your army out there, and for keeping the Grimm Reaper on a leash that isn't yours. You ask me, odds are he gets clear of the kingdom and ferries the weapon to Vacuo ASAP."
 
"Heh, hey, sounds like my kinda..." She started receptively enough, flicker of a grin reigniting after being cowed by a look that confirmed beyond any shadow of a doubt that the entity sitting in the throne was Ozpin all the way through. But it was still, ultimately, a smile notably lacking in the kind of vicious euphoria such a suggestion may have ordinarily provoked in the savage brute, and when the lord of Grimm turned her gaze away without waiting it was to the benefit of the more ambivalent stare that hijacked the Dragon's features again as her eyes reverted immediately to the chalk-white cloak blanketing one of the figures genuflecting before the tone.

766094287338995722.png

seen_facebook_65629000.png
 
"Heh, hey, sounds like my kinda..." She started receptively enough, flicker of a grin reigniting after being cowed by a look that confirmed beyond any shadow of a doubt that the entity sitting in the throne was Ozpin all the way through. But it was still, ultimately, a smile notably lacking in the kind of vicious euphoria such a suggestion may have ordinarily provoked in the savage brute, and when the lord of Grimm turned her gaze away without waiting it was to the benefit of the more ambivalent stare that hijacked the Dragon's features again as her eyes reverted immediately to the chalk-white cloak blanketing one of the figures genuflecting before the tone.

766094287338995722.png

If the figure noticed the look, it was not revealed or called out. Truth be told, the shadows provided by the hood left it impossible to even tell where the figure was looking.
"The invading Remnant's Branwen woman managed to exfiltrate them to Vacuo with the lamp, sir." Carnelian informed with a dutiful, blasé air, no reservations whatsoever about reverting to a subordinative bearing after having spent so many years among the rank and file. It always did suit him better than an officer's stripes, truth be told. "Your current host used its final question to pummel the Shadow Fang as soon as they arrived in the kingdom after one of theirs provoked her with an unsanctioned play. So it's essentially a prop for now. The staff, well, that's a little trickier to determine. It's not entirely clear what happened there."

He sent an innocuous, unaccusing look Blake's way and smiled again, though it was grim.

"However, based on what I've been able to glean and who remains unaccounted for after we dismantled her players I'd wager it ended up in the hands of one Doctor Merlot. Strange, unsavory sort. Smart, but tanked his own reputation in those sorts of circles. Same fella responsible for what Schnee did to your army out there, and for keeping the Grimm Reaper on a leash that isn't yours. You ask me, odds are he gets clear of the kingdom and ferries the weapon to Vacuo ASAP."

"...Hmm. So you mean to tell that the lamp is assuredly in Vacuo, which also is home to the sword, and the staff is in all likelihood on the way there. In other words, three relics, in one kingdom." Weiss smiled with pure malevolence. An opportunity like that had never before presented itself! "Not to mention a significant number of my enemies, of this world or the other, an unaccounted for maiden, and, if Weiss's own memories are any indication, the last living members of her family. One of which who could possibly expedite my learning how to control this semblance, if I haven't already gotten a handle on it by then. It sounds to me like we have every reason to go to Vacuo as soon as possible, while we have this knowledge and my legions and all of you standing with me. Quite a dangerous force, even if I don't personally know..." She glanced at all the other Shadow Fang members aside Blake. "...some of you. Beyond that..." Weiss looked to Blake and then Carnelian in turn.

"Would any more Shadow Fang reinforcements or Atlesian military assistance be able to be arranged?"
 
The Boss/Santana looked absolutely dumbfounded.

Then he realized the joke he'd been told.

"Hehhee....HAHAHAHAH!"

7059625-tenor%20%283%29.gif


"YOU really think that sounds logical? Repeat it back to yourself. I'm the ruler of the Bound Ashes! If it weren't for me, animals like the ones currently infesting our fine city would be roaming free and doing as they see fit! I keep Mistral safe and sound! It is through me that Mistral and it's people prosper! What's good for me is good for Mistral! So...to hear you say...that I'm under arrest? I can't help but laugh...But again you deserve to be commended. You're the first person in a long time to ever find out my name." The Boss's eyes narrowed as he blasted off from the ground.

"IT'S TOO BAD THAT KNOWLEDGE IS SOMETHING YOU'LL HAVE TO TAKE TO YOUR GRAVE!"

If Neo wasn't mute, the boss might've received some warning that the hawk faunus wasn't as alone as he seemed. She'd started to force herself up from her knees, putting all her weight on her good arm and hush as the Boss turned to face and shout at this new nuisance. Who did he think he was, turning his back on her? She wasn't dead yet. She could still fight. As long as she was breathing she refused to not do everything she could. She couldn't just let another foe walk away, couldn't turn away from the fight. It didn't matter if it wasn't a fight she could win. She'd rather be dead than try to keep living if something happened to her friends because she ran.

not again.

She finally reached her legs, and with a vicious, silent snarl, tried to raise Hush for a wild, weak swing for the Boss' exposed back, right before something knocked the air of her lungs. Something, someone had just landed silently next to her and Char, and suddenly they were both being carried away in another silent leap.

The Hawk faunus watched with disinterested eyes as the Boss started to take off. He took one last drag from his cigarette, put a finger up to a small device resting against his ear, and spoke a single word.

"Fire."

The clouds in the night sky above the streets parted a split second before the the destruction came


*kraKOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM*

A shell almost as big as the boss himself crashed into him from above so fast and hard that the accompanying sound didn't reach him till a second later; His semblance just barely withstood it, stopped the shell from hitting him directly, but both impacted the ground hard enough to bury him six feet into the concrete before it detonated in a storm of hellfire that engulfed the entire block. The Boss and the faunus disappeared entirely from view, and Neopolitan had to reflexively shut her eyes and shield herself against the monstrous heat as the flames shot up and past the building and towered up into the sky.

Apart from his clothes and hair billowing in the shock blast, the faunus stood in the midst of the inferno, unfazed. The most violent reaction it got out of him was an air of regret as he watched the cigarette still held in his fingers disintegrate into ash. The flames finally started to disipate, though smaller fires crackled and snarled along anything vaguely flammable that had been anywhere near the blast zone, as the faunus strode towards the crater the artillery blast had created.

He let out a low whistle at what he saw below, and pulled another cigarette from his jacket.

"Well, Mr. Crimson, I have to say I'm surprised; you are one tough son of a bitch."

His clothes were smoking, his skin was covered in burn marks, but somehow the man in the hole was still breathing.

"Doesn't change the fact that you're arrested." The faunus added, right as a pair of mantas crested over the other buildings in the district.

-------------------------------------------------------

Neo stared in blank, uncomprehending shock at the carnage left below. What... what the fuck had just happened. She turned towards her impromptu savior, practically begging her with her eyes for an explanation.

It was a woman with raven black hair, done up in a ponytail behind a masked face. She also seemed military; sleek and light combat armor in hues of black and red with the JMLDU logo on one shoulder. A pair of short swords were magnetically holstered at her back, and a pair of submachine guns hung at her side. Keeping with the theme of twos, a pair of animal ears jutted out from just above the mask, but nothing else was apparent; the mask hid her face, and a pair of combat goggles her eyes. Said goggles were currently pointed towards the sky, tracking the approaching mantas, and Neo heard the faunus swear under her breath.

"...Shit. That wasn't part of the plan."

For whatever reason, she didnt' seem pleased to see what were supposedly on the same side, and she glanced back down to Neo as she reached for a pair of gravity cuffs hung at her belt loop.

"Neopolitan, you're under arrest as well. Sorry. Oh, and uh, you too... guy." She added to Char's unconscious form
 
The Hawk faunus watched with disinterested eyes as the Boss started to take off. He took one last drag from his cigarette, put a finger up to a small device resting against his ear, and spoke a single word.
The Boss reached out a hand.

"Die, you insipid freak-"
"Fire."

The clouds in the night sky above the streets parted a split second before the the destruction came


*kraKOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM*
"WHAT?!-"

The Boss's cries turned into screams of fury as his effort to silence this newcomer literally began to blow up in his face.

His hands didn't move fast enough to cushion the impact. There wasn't even enough time to gather enough momentum to deflect the shell's course.

"DAMN YOUUUUUUUUUUUUU-"
"Doesn't change the fact that you're arrested." The faunus added, right as a pair of mantas crested over the other buildings in the district.


"Ngh...." Hands stained with dirt kicked up by the explosive landing clung to the closest corner of the crater.

"2...20...years of labor...of work...All gone to waste..." The Boss mumbled as his dark red aura shined around him while looking as though it'd experienced a nasty spiderweb fracture. "I....I won't submit to you...or...or to anyone..." This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He wasn't supposed to be in this crater hurting like this. Certainly not on an attack at the behest of some filthy flea-bitten aviary freak. His flowing mane of hair clung loosely to his back as he tried in vain to pull himself free of the crater but the strength just wasn't there. The little corner he clung to crumbled and he slid back down. But his eyes never left the faunus. The idea that for all of his efforts in keeping himself a secret, almost a persona non grata, in the course of over a few days and mere hours....he'd been found out. It angered him more than any words could say.

"You'll....You'll die for this...I'll..I'll see to it..." He threatened.

Then...the Boss vanished.

The body fell back landing in the center of the crater. The fractured looking pupils had returned to normal. The man laying in the crater didn't seem to have the figure of a man in his mid to late thirties anymore. It looked as though it were a youth...barely any older than Neo or her acquaintances

A weak voice called out.

"B-Boss...? W-What's going on.....? Why...Why do I hurt so much....?"

The Boss didn't answer.​
 
"And my opportunity at payback on the savage mutt who did it ripped away from me. Oh, I had all sorts of plans for that one. She was the product of a great deal of time and effort on my part, and Weiss Schnee just ends her in a blink like that. Pah." He sneered. "So after a few whiskeys I got to thinking that the councilwoman had no intention of honoring any of her promises to me. In fact, I'm quite certain she had every intention of killing me the second my blade stopped being useful enough to keep around. Miss Schnee was something of a futurist, and her and I never quite saw eye to eye on certain matters. Politically, I mean. You know how this current generation can be."

Blake had strode across the throne room in Ozma's shadow until he reached his throne, ignoring the subtle glances from Bear and the completely unsubtle gaping from Greki at the scorched stump where her hand had been to kneel silently beside him. At first, she stayed that way. Silent, head bowed, and uncomfortably still, almost more statue than living thing. The first thing that made her trip up was a small, bewildered snort at the knowledge that it was the relic of knowledge that had led to them being found so... immediately in Atlas. She almost begrudgingly discarded thoughts of Snake's potential treachery.

The second was more pronounced. It wasn't only the mind reader in the room who could pick up on how the mention of Eve affected her. The wind swirled slightly through the throne room, and amber fire started to drip from the side of her eyes as her head tilted up just enough to lock Carnelian in a withering, hateful glower, her entire body tensing up with the promise of violence. She didn't let Weiss Schnee use her memory; She may have been her killer, it may have been her company branded on Eve's face, but she wasn't her personal tormentor the way this man had been, and he had none of the begrudging respect the one who formerly owned Ozma's form had acquired.

Whether it was Ozma himself or someone else in the room, someone was going to have to step in if Carnelian thought he was going to be able to get away with such in her presence.

She kept enough control to eventually continue along Carnelian's answer with a bit more context, through gritted teeth.

"Weiss' memories should confirm one way or the other, Lord Ozpin; I managed to acquire the staff for a short time, but she had placed a chip along my heart during the initial capture that killed me, much like the one she had put in herself. The fact that I knew what it was was the only reason I was able to revive her form in time for you to keep it. It would be best to ensure the general isn't merely leading you falsely along"

"...Hmm. So you mean to tell that the lamp is assuredly in Vacuo, which also is home to the sword, and the staff is in all likelihood on the way there. In other words, three relics, in one kingdom." Weiss smiled with pure malevolence. An opportunity like that had never before presented itself! "Not to mention a significant number of my enemies, of this world or the other, an unaccounted for maiden, and, if Weiss's own memories are any indication, the last living members of her family. One of which who could possibly expedite my learning how to control this semblance, if I haven't already gotten a handle on it by then. It sounds to me like we have every reason to go to Vacuo as soon as possible, while we have this knowledge and my legions and all of you standing with me. Quite a dangerous force, even if I don't personally know..." She glanced at all the other Shadow Fang members aside Blake. "...some of you. Beyond that..." Weiss looked to Blake and then Carnelian in turn.

"Would any more Shadow Fang reinforcements or Atlesian military assistance be able to be arranged?"

At that question, she bowed her head slightly.

"As always, I am at your disposal to use as you see fit, Lord Ozpin. However, Ironwood obviously made this choice in a bid to save his kingdom from open warfare; the man is a statiscian. Risking more atlesian lives may outweigh his continued loyalty. And as for the Shadow Fang... I would have to touch base with the High Leader. Just as I am your blade, I am her Hand; it is up to her if we have the manpower to spare. We have always been a smaller force. We do not have the luxury of expendability a Kingdom with a standing army has."
 
Last edited:


"...Tch, disgusting..." Blanco commented in regards to Ghastly's stitched lips. There was genuine loyalty among comrades. That was sickening devotion to a man who believed himself to be above everyone. Tyrian didn't care one bit about that. Shoving past Blanco and Callie if she were too close in the way to the downed jester, Tyrain straddled his waist. Ghastly's arms, legs, and torso were an absolute goreshow with skin split apart in various places revealing the muscle that lay underneath. It'd 'shut' later but the pain that Ghastly was in was absolutely indecipherable. It was as though he'd been degloved across different points of his body. He'd failed the Boss. That alone hurt more than anything Blanco's flurry of punches ever could. Tyrian's tail loomed behind him.

"Where is she?"


"...Mrf...?"

The tail inched closer.

"Where IS she??"

Ghastly blinked then frowned. He may have been beaten but he wouldn't reveal anything. His loyalty-not to the gang or the familia-but to the Boss himself was just too strong. For a orphan who had nobody to watch or be entertained by his parlor tricks as a child, the Boss extended him a hand and let him join the gang. Soon he rose through the ranks to become of the Boss's most trusted subordinates. He didn't care what they did to him.

Up to a certain point anyway.

Tyrian grabbed a handful of the stitching Ghastly's lips together and began to pull.

"Mr...Mrgh!!" Ghastly protested.

"Where is she?! WHERE IS MY FRIEND, YOU SON OF A BITCH!?"

The stitching was pulled more and blood started to ooze from Ghastly's lips as they were gradually torn open.

"MrgaaaAAAAAHH!!" The jester shrieked. Before the faunus could fully rip Ghastly's stitching out, Blanco grappled with the young fighter and pulled him back. "Tyrian! Tyrian, stop! If you were to stand here and mutilate this man, what ground would we have to stand on? You can't just-"

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM*

The entire warehouse with shook with crates nearly falling atop the inhabitants. Violet barely managed to avoid being crushed by a couple while even in the midst of her battle, Vanile kicked away some or splintered them with her kicks. "What a shitshow..." Violet growled, still kind of reeling from Vanile speaking. Noticing her earbud laying on the ground, Violet crawled over to grab it. "Ugh, sorry Abyss, something happened and I-" But there was no response. Not even any static. Just dead silence on the other end. "...Abyss...?? ABYSS!" She screamed and Vanile turned her head. "Vanile! F-Forget about the punks! C'mon! Abyss ain't responding!" Racing to exit the warehouse, Vanile turned towards Mercury and bowed.

"Thank you."


It wasn't often she had somebody she actually enjoyed fighting with. The two raced out, Violet moving to lift up the steel door and the two of them slipping out under it. It was only after they got outside did they see the carnage that'd unraveled. Glass from broken windows littered the streets, a car was laying on it's back in the midst of an alleyway and Blanche...

"BLANCHE!!!" Violet and Vanille yelled as they raced after their downed companion. Unaware of the even worse state that Abyss had been left in.

~~~

Tyrian pushed Blanco back from him and glared down at Ghastly.

The stitches had been partially removed and Ghastly's face was quickly becoming covered in blood. Tears flowed from the criminal's eyes but he still attempted to smile even in the midst of the semi-mutilation that Blanco and Tyrian had subjected him to. Tyrian's tail hung over his chest for a few seconds more...before he too raced out the open gate. Compared to the interior of the warehouse which looked decrepit but still relatively intact, the street/alleyway surrounding the warehouse couldn't say the same. It'd looked as though a small war had been raged here. Racing in the direction of where that explosion had come from, Tyrian looked down in the center of the huge crater.

Aurora.

That damn kid with connections to the Boss.

"C-Callows...? I-Is that you...? I can't see too well...Everything hurts..." Aurora whimpered.

"...Yeah, yeah it's me..." Raising his un-mangled hand up, Tyrian hopped down into the crater and grabbed Aurora by the neck.

"O-ow!!! W-What's going on?! I-I don't understand how I got here or-"

"WHERE ARE YOU HOLDING TRIFA?!"

"W-who's Trifa??! P-Please, let me go! You're hurting me!!"

"TELL ME WHERE SHE IS OR I'LL-"

He pressed the barrel of his gauntlet against Aurora's chest.

Aurora sobbed.

"B-Boss!!!"
 
"Would any more Shadow Fang reinforcements or Atlesian military assistance be able to be arranged?"
"I'm always willing to fight..."

Tiger commented.

The first time she'd spoken since they'd landed to be pefectly honest. When it came to the strange surroundings and Grimm, she tried not to think about it too much. Wasn't really her place. Life just seemed so much easier to understand when you were fighting and that's how Tiger preferred it.
And as for the Shadow Fang... I would have to touch base with the High Leader
Tiger looked away....​
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top