[RWBY] RWBY Shorts

[AndrewJTalon]

-Whitley pulls a Ruby in this universe and joins Penny's team at Vytal.

Click to shrink...

He's made the leader thanks to his skills, but frankly, his team is a nightmare.



Whitley: "Penny. Stop fraternizing with the enemy!"



Penny: "But Friend Ruby is my friend!"



Whitley: "No, she's the enemy!"



Penny: "Frienemy!"



Whitley: "No!"



Penny: *puppy dog eyes*



Whitley: "... Fine."



Penny: 'YAY!"



With Ciel...



*Everyone silent in the common rooms*



Ciel: "..... do you ever think of the inevitability of the sun blowing up one day, blotting out all light and life from our planet, sending us all to the welcoming hands of death?"



Whitley: "Who the hell starts a conversation like that?! I just sat down!"



And Indie, Sift Green 's creation...



Team WICP flees a gigantic monster Grimm.



Indy: "I wanna fight it!"



Whitley: "WE ARE NOT FIGHTING THAT GIANT GRIMM!"



Indy: "BUT I WANNAAAA!"



Whitley and Ruby end up commiserating over their headaches in human and Faunus form that are their teams.

 

[SharkCultist]

Had a idea for one of those RWBY is a show AU kind of things.

Velvet and CoCo interview (in)famous star Raven Branwen.

---

Coco: So what made you come back to Beacon?

Raven: a paycheck and a daughter who wants to work with her mom for once.

Velvet: oh, the rumor was that you were returning because the Beacon franchise was one of your favorites from childhood, being your first job and all.

Raven: *snorts* Favorite huh? I guess it is just because it got me a job but I didn't know anything about the show.

Coco: the most popular franchise in Remnant and you didn't know anything about it? Sure pull the other one.

Raven: Little hard to keep up with current media being homeless and eight years old brat.

Raven: you want the truth? Fine. They needed a ornery little brat for their show, I was there and Salem Mandias, bless the bitch, figured she could save a few bucks hiring a homeless kid and letting part of my pay be in room and board.

Velvet: That has to be illegal!

Raven: no shit it's illegal. It's also the best thing that ever happened to me. I rode that woman's coattails from job to job and stayed off the streets until her husband noticed I never left and got CPS involved.

Coco: wait is that why First Edition Media group split in half?

Raven: well that and a few other things Salem was sweeping under the rug.

Coco: surprised you did any work with Salem and her grimmland productions after that.

Raven: why wouldn't I? Like I said she was good for me. But after a while she started getting more controlling and nasty so I bounced between her studio and Oz's Clocktower films until I set out with my own little talent agency.

Velvet: and now you're working with them again?

Raven: you said it yourself Beacon is one of the most beloved franchises out there. They both wanna do something with it, they have scripts and sets, I have talent and history.

Coco: and a kid trying to make it big.

Raven: try three. Yang, Sun, and saffron.

Velvet: the triplets. You must be so proud.

Raven: right. Proud. Listen this has been...not terrible but I have a meeting in a hour with Salems daughters summer and Ruby so I need to leave.

---

A few things that didn't make it into this bit.

Raven is a only child in this universe, Qrow is a friend.

A few families have been shook up a bit.

She lied on Suns birth certificate. He was the third born and she was so tired from back to back births when she saw him she just said Son. She just lets them think she meant sun.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

In a dimly lit warehouse on the outskirts of Vale—White Fang banners hanging crookedly from the rafters—Adam Taurus stood in the center of a chalked-out sparring circle, Wilt drawn and Blush sheathed at his hip. A dozen of his most loyal lieutenants formed a loose ring around him, some nursing bruises, others looking nervously excited.

"Again!" Adam barked, resetting his stance. "This time, argue your point properly! Convince me your ideals are worth dying for while you attack!"

A burly bull Faunus charged, swinging a massive axe. "Humans will always oppress us! We take what we deserve!"

Adam parried effortlessly, Wilt flashing red as he absorbed the strike and countered with a precise slash that shattered the man's aura in one hit.

"Weak!" Adam snarled. "That's not conviction—that's whining! Easily defeated, by word and by sword!"

The bull Faunus fell back, groaning on the floor. Adam shook his head angrily.

"Jaune Arc would never settle for such a pathetic monologue!"

The room went dead quiet.

One of the younger recruits, a fox-eared girl, raised a tentative hand. "Uh... sir? You mean the human from Beacon? The one who is like your friend-?"

"MY ETERNAL RIVAL!" Adam roared, then immediately composed himself, sheathing Wilt with a dramatic flourish. "Not a friend. Never a friend. Friends are for the weak. Rivals... rivals are forged in fire and respect."

He turned away, pacing. "He understands. The drama. The philosophy. The sheer artistry of a well-timed Moonslice under a blood-red sky!"

A lieutenant coughed. "Sir, isn't that the third time this week you've practiced that exact speech?"

Adam froze. "I am honing my craft. Preparation is the mark of a true warrior."

Another recruit whispered to his neighbor, "He has that poster of Arc in his quarters. The one from the Vytal Festival promo shoot."

"And action figures," someone else muttered. "Saw him posing them on his desk. Him, Arc, and... Belladonna."

Adam whipped around, mask hiding his flush but not the sudden tension in his shoulders. "Those are tactical models! For studying my rival's form! And Blake is... strategic nostalgia! Nothing more!"

The bull Faunus, now back on his feet, grinned despite the bruise forming on his cheek. "Sure, boss. And you definitely don't do the voices when you play out your big showdown scenes."

He was knocked out with a single blow by Adam.

"I DO NOT PLAY WITH THEM!" Adam shouted, then caught himself. He straightened, adjusting his coat. "I... rehearse. Extensively. 'To the best enemy I ever had!'—delivered at sunset, thunder rolling, auras clashing in a symphony of—"

He realized the entire room was staring.

"...Dismissed," he growled.

The lieutenants scrambled out, trying (and failing) to hide their smirks.

Alone in the warehouse, Adam waited until the last footsteps faded. Then he stalked to his private quarters—a spartan room with a single cot, weapon racks, and yes, a full-wall poster of Jaune Arc mid-Aura Slash, looking heroic and ridiculously earnest.

On his desk sat three hand-painted action figures: Adam (with a mini Wilt), Blake (posed dramatically with Gambol Shroud), and Jaune (complete with tiny Crocea Mors and removable shield). He hadn't figured out the kung fu action yet, but he'd get it soon.

Adam glanced at the door. Locked.

He picked up Jaune's figure, turning it in the light.

"My eternal rival," he muttered, voice softening just a fraction. "One day, Jaune Arc... we will meet again. And it will be legendary."

He set Jaune down opposite his own figure, carefully positioning them for maximum dramatic tension.

Then, in a whisper barely audible:

"'You were a worthy opponent, Adam Taurus... to the best enemy I ever had.'"

He posed Adam's figure with Wilt raised high.

"'No, Jaune Arc—the honor was mine!'"

A pause.

"...And then Blake runs in dramatically, conflicted but ultimately choosing—"

Adam froze, realized what he was doing, and hurriedly shoved all three figures into a drawer.

"NOT WEIRD!" he declared to the empty room.

 

[zMADLAXz]

This Interaction is Inspired by Jaune SI BS and my own head canon regarding Great Temporal Step Sibling War, I would try to get the characterization as close as possible but it is completely possible I may write something that would stray from the two character's original intent.

I give you, Jaune Once and Future Knight

---

The hallways of Beacon had changed. Gone were the familiar beiges and muted greys, the practical greens that once defined its quiet discipline. In their place bloomed a richness of hue, velvet purples, burnished golds, deep ambers and radiant yellows, colors that wrapped the academy in defiant splendor.

They circled Beacon like a living mural, a bold refusal against the ever-encroaching darkness that sought to smother the fragile flames of all that yet endured. Each shade felt deliberate, almost reverent, as though the walls themselves remembered what they were protecting. As though someone had taken a color wheel and had decided to overhaul every corner of the institute one spoke at a time.

This rebellion was spoken not merely through saturation, but through form. Hallways once merely prestigious had become unmistakably royal. Ornate detailing traced the arches, tasteful vegetation breathed life into every corner, and the very skeleton of the academy had been reimagined, refined, elevated, and lovingly restored.

It was not the Beacon Jaune Arc knew. It was not his current Academia that he may as well have fought against the world itself to get a chance to attend. No, this Beacon, with its high arches, with marble busts of Heroes he had no recollection of doting every corner, with pupils and faculty out numbering the busiest day of his beloved school..... this was not his Beacon.

More evidence that this was not his world.

Vale had changed, Mistral had changed, Atlas had no mention of but in its place people spoke of the Icy plains of Epimetheus.

As he walked through this living palimpsest of layers of modern and classic, of various countries, he pondered upon his destination.

Three days since he woke up in this World, after already being transmigrated into this body, he had not expected to be part of another multiversal picnic stop, but here he was after attending the reception of his friend/ex-bully he had gone to sleep in the arms of his lovely girlfriend, someone that he had much difficulty accepting in the beginning of this newly topsy-turvy possible after life of his.

He had not but the clothes on his back, waking up in the old apartment he had rented in Vale when he had started his journey to Beacon proper, with an envelope on his chest that spoke to him about this new world in a very utilitarian but sparse detail.

After much silent panicking on his part he had decided to follow the advice of the letter, written in a script that was oddly reminiscent of his own penmanship but more flowy and legalese in its formatting. What he had learned of this world had shaken him, but that just made this trip all the more important.

Now here he was, after getting an anonymous message on his scroll that accompanied him, he walked towards the elevator that took him towards the Headmaster's Office.

---

He looked into a mirror, a much more regal, mature, older mirror.

The man waiting for him wore command as effortlessly as a tailored coat.
The man waiting for him wore a long, dark overcoat, tailored close and finished with a high collar that framed his face like a uniform refined by time. Muted brass buttons ran down the front in neat, deliberate rows, military in origin, but stripped of insignia or decoration.

The influence of command lingered in the details: squared shoulders, faint piping along the seams, a controlled flare at the waist. Beneath the coat, a crisp white shirt and narrow dark cravat completed the look, formal without excess. Polished boots and pressed trousers spoke of discipline rather than display.

"I didn't know I needed glasses, but it seems that's just another new thing I would need to keep track of", spoke Jaune to this apparent doppelganger of his.

"These? Habit, mostly. They help me focus. A physical reminder.", spoke the man standing in front of a large desk, standing calmly. One would expect him standing like a warrior or a trained soldier, calm but ready for action, but to Jaune's reading he came off as completely civilian. Odd.

"Now then, since it is somewhat clear to you what is happening, let's not tire ourselves and sit, we have much to discuss", said the strange man, as he politely pointed Jaune towards a chair in front of his desk while he took to sitting on the other side of the desk, on a grander chair.


........

As Jaune sat, he agonized over what to say but as if to save him some pain the man opposite to him spoke.

"Let's cut to the chase, yes this is not the Remnant you have come to know, do not worry you will be sent back to your house very soon, and no time would have passed, it took some effort to arrange such fortuitous circumstance but it is well worth it"

"Good then let me ask you another easy question, why?" asked Jaune.

"Perspective mostly", replied the probably older version of him, "To show you that even after the worst of times, humankind, including Faunus in that definition of course, would prosper." he said, "That would be the standard answer I would give you, because I know you realize the cracks underneath the facades"

To that Jaune replied, "....This peace, is somehow even more troubling than the one Ozma established, 16 years after her defeat, and even now you are running this place as if the webs underneath could dissolve."
Jaune continued after swallowing a little, "In that letter, you pointed me towards to things to look for, look underneath the underneath, and it all told me of a world that would heal, but the Doctors would have to fist fight the Gods for every day more"

For a moment, there was nothing but silence but Jaune spoke, "So what do I call you? Jaune Arc? That's still who I am in my head. Right now, you feel… further away from that than I do"

"Call me whatever you want, though Arc has been a common one to refer to me after so many years", spoke the more experienced looking man.

"Then tell me, Arc, you know a lot about what I am, not just externally but internally, spiritually, tell me what is the point of all this, not just this Remnant but me being me , why did I end up riding shotgun in someone else's life while the world suddenly hinges on things that shouldn't matter this much?", fervently asked Jaune.

"Its not up to us to decide what the collective rolling averages of the forces of the world consider important." said Arc, now looking a little sullen but still confidently looking in Jaune's eyes.

"I love this world, its people, what it represents." he said

"I love this world simply because it is where everyone I love lives, where I keep all my stuff ha ha ha, but it is much more than that, a place where stories come to rest, yet for every scrape of peace we earn, several more factors work to accelerate entropy. The fact of the matter is I simply could not accept the cost it came with, the sacrifices all those that should have lived and prospered had to make while the enemy sat in its grand halls."

"That still doesn't explain why all this? Why Jaune Arc and I?" asked Jaune.

"Because I do not have anyone else to fall back to, not in this world; not in any other", said Arc, "I am Jaune Arc, and only his choices do I have control over, you know of a world where his children found their way to him despite the divergent timelines, yes?"

"Consider yourself in a situation where both the worlds have some problem but different approach towards the solution."

"My world is a Pine that is caught in the fires, it may not be able to save itself, but as long as the seeds remain, life wins. I want to make places where everyone I have come to love may find peace."

"All that but it doesn't explain to me what happened to the Jaune whose life I upended"

"You didn't upend anyone's life, take that fear of being a parasite out of your mind.", said Arc, "You have given this story to everyone around you that you are an Oracle, yes?"

"Well that is the one that fits the best."

"Then let me ask you this, why do you remember everything in such a stark detail? Why despite being uncountable eons away from primary sources you remember things in such a reliable manner?" daringly challenged Arc, to which Jaune fell silent. He looked for answers that called to him, but as if some final push was required he couldn't make it on his own.

"Let's go a step further even, you are a good man, so you have self control, but what has made you noble, resourceful, and so eager to jump into the fires? Beyond the call of duty, thinking of yourself as someone who doesn't belong, beyond just your unique situation"

Arc removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes and then calmly set them down. As he focused on Jaune again, Jaune noticed how much darker his eyes looked, as compared to his Father's.

Father.

Jaune's eyes dilated, as he took a sharp breath, looking intently at Arc, now starting to pin point what he was getting at,"...This wasn't completely random, it was orchestrated, at least to some extent, and Jaune, Jaune, isn't completely gone is he? I am him, and he is ...me?"

That ease with which he noticed things about his, Jaune's parents, how he could integrate into this life, how he could just look into the eyes of this stranger and call him his reflection.

"In that infinitesimal moment when you woke up, Jaune had a choice, Destiny made a tryst with him, the Tree, the Blacksmith, the force of nature you call Juniper, whatever thing you could think of, they rolled a dice."

"Truth is, this world wants to live, wants to prosper, yet things have gone FUBAR, so now it's carpet bombing solutions, Moses became the Noah for the other world, you simply became for this."

"You talk of the world as if it is....alive, as if there is a giant consciousness that silently judges it all"

"It is not exactly that. Think of it as the halfway point between Evolution and genuine Intelligence. It simply spread its roots to where it would keep it more alive, but then some took notice of it and decided to be proactive"

"Then where do I settle on this? Just an unwilling observer folded into it this chaos?" asked Jaune.

"I.... I am sorry, sometimes it does things no one is capable of predicting, believe me I have no control over the processes or what it thinks, but please understand, if there is a solution I am looking for it"

".....Literally Grand Ordered me into this, great. Want some free advice?" asked Jaune.

"Hmmm", inquisitively gestured Arc.

"Stop looking for these kind of things. As much as I was not a part of this, it's now personal, yeah it could be due to our shared life experiences, could be thousand other factors, but now in for a penny in for a pound I am seeing this through, I may not be this Hero/Deuteragonist like this blonde one, but I got my own pride as a man dammit, I know whatever happened to me wasn't probably nice or peaceful that my Soul ended so so far away from home, So instead of trying to be like Ozma junior, start looking for other solutions to your problems as well."

"Thank You, It really does help a lot", said Arc, "Now, let's get to my favorite part, shall we?".

"You have a favorite part in all of this?" asked Jaune quite befuddled.

"Would planning ways to Bitch slap Salem, Politically sweet talking all the greedy bastards on the planet into donating their Spine, and conveying designs and strategies to... what do they call it? Bring High Impact freedom to the Grimm count as a favorite part?" asked Arc.

"....Well, guess there had to be meat in this stupid sandwich of a world finally" said Jaune, "Talk shop, though if I could get something to drink, it would be golden."

"Agreed, I am partial to cold coffee, you?"

"Get me the same, Please and Thank You."

"Alright, and I suppose hard drinks for the After Party?"

"Ehhh, I wasn't gonna but if you insist." replied Jaune

They both laughed as Arc messaged the intercomm.

Two men sat in a grand office, planning, preparing.

Darkness approaches from all corners, it is ceaseless, blighted, voracious, yet those who stand against it are oft of remarkable ken.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The boutique district in Vale's upscale quarter was everything Weiss Schnee had grown up with: polished marble sidewalks, storefronts with gold lettering, mannequins dressed in fabrics that cost more than most people's monthly rent. She had insisted on this outing the moment she noticed Mia's favorite dress had become a crop top on her rapidly growing frame.

"Mia deserves clothes that fit," Weiss had declared in the common room two days ago, arms crossed, tone leaving no room for argument. "And Jaune, you have the fashion sense of a blindfolded Beowolf. I'm taking you both shopping. No excuses."

Jaune had opened his mouth to protest the expense, but Pyrrha's gentle hand on his shoulder and Nora's enthusiastic "DO IT, WEISS! MAKE HER THE CUTEST KITTY GIRL EVER!" had drowned him out. Even Yang, Blake and Ruby had allowed that letting Weiss splurge on Mia would do more good than harm-Or at least keep her from buying things for Mia Jaune wouldn't get to see.

So here they were on a crisp Saturday morning: Weiss in a tailored white coat and pale-blue scarf, Jaune looking mildly overwhelmed in his usual hoodie and jeans, and Mia skipping between them, one tiny gloved hand in each of theirs. Her fluffy ears poked out from beneath a beret Weiss had insisted was "seasonally appropriate."

Mia's eyes were saucers the moment they stepped into the first store-Les Petites Étoiles, a children's boutique that smelled faintly of lavender and new cotton. Racks of dresses in every color of the rainbow lined the walls, and a miniature carousel of hair accessories spun lazily near the register.

Weiss released Mia's hand with the air of a general unleashing troops. "Go. Explore. Touch everything. I need to see what styles you like."

Mia did not need to be told twice. She bolted, light-up sneakers flashing, and disappeared behind a display of tutus.

Jaune watched her go, fond and faintly anxious. "She's going to want one of everything."

"That's why I brought two arms and an unlimited credit limit," Weiss said dryly, steering him toward the dress section. "Relax, Arc. This is my treat."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Weiss, you don't have to-"

"I want to." She cut him off, softer this time. "Let me do something nice for her. For both of you."

Jaune's protest died in his throat. He just smiled back warmly, and got one in return. He had to admit, he liked her smile.

They found Mia already buried in a rack of velvet dresses, ears twitching with delight. She emerged triumphant, holding a dark purple dress with tiny embroidered stars along the hem.

"Look, Papa! I'm a night sky!"

Jaune's smile was helpless. "You absolutely are."

Weiss plucked the dress from her hands with an expert eye. "Excellent taste. The color complements your ears. We'll take it in her size—and the matching coat." She handed it to the hovering attendant without looking. "Next."

The next hour dissolved into a whirlwind of cotton, corduroy, and sparkles. Mia tried on party dresses, practical jumpers, a tiny leather jacket that made her look like a pint-sized biker ("Auntie Yang will love this," she declared solemnly), and a winter coat with faux-fur trim that turned her into a walking snowball. Weiss approved, vetoed, and occasionally overruled Jaune's hesitant "Do we really need three cardigans in the same color family?"

"Yes," Weiss said each time, "because children grow like weeds and pastel pink is timeless."

Jaune eventually stopped arguing and started carrying the growing pile of bags.

At one point Mia disappeared into a fitting room with a particularly poofy lavender dress. The attendant took it in to help her, leaving Jaune and Weiss alone among the racks of miniature formalwear.

Silence settled, comfortable but heavy. Jaune fingered the sleeve of a tiny blazer, eyes distant.

"She would've loved this," he said quietly.

Weiss didn't pretend not to know who he meant. "Katie?"

He nodded. "She always talked about dressing Mia up. Said she wanted to dress our daughter up in every which way, make her feel like a star. Her own mother passed away when she was young, so... She wanted to be there for her. Cooking, cleaning, dressing up, braiding her hair." His mouth twisted.

"I'm… not great at the braiding part yet."

Weiss watched him carefully. "You're doing remarkably well at the rest."

Jaune's laugh was soft and self-deprecating. "Some days it doesn't feel like it. I'm twenty, Weiss. Most people my age are worried about midterms and dating. I'm worried about whether I remembered to pack extra snacks and if I'm selfish for dragging a four-year-old to a combat school because I can't let go of a promise I made to a dying woman."

Weiss's expression softened in a way she rarely allowed in public. "You're honoring a promise to someone you love. There's nothing selfish about that."

He looked at her then, really looked. "You sound like you understand."

She glanced toward the fitting-room curtain to make sure Mia was still occupied, then spoke, voice low. "My father wasn't… a father. He was a master. Every lesson, every outfit, every social function was designed to make the Schnee name shine brighter. I learned early that love was conditional on performance." She smoothed an invisible wrinkle from a nearby dress. "Coming to Beacon was the first decision I ever made purely for myself. Not for the company, not for Father's approval. Just… me."

Jaune was quiet, listening.

"I used to think that made me selfish," she continued. "Wanting freedom, wanting to be a Huntress instead of a heiress. Wanting to sing because it made me happy, not because it polished the brand." She met his eyes. "But watching you… you're chasing a dream for Katie, for Mia, for the people you want to protect. That's not selfish. That's the opposite."

Jaune swallowed. "I want to be the kind of man she believed I could be. The kind who keeps people safe. Mia, my team, my friends… people I haven't even met yet. I want to stand between them and the darkness." He gave a small, wry smile. "Selfish dreams can still serve something bigger, I guess."

Weiss's lips curved-almost a smile, almost something warmer. "Exactly."

The curtain swished open. Mia twirled out in the lavender dress, skirt billowing like a princess. "Well?" she demanded.

Weiss's composure snapped back into place, but her eyes were soft. "Perfect. We're taking it."

They would have left the final store with enough bags to require two trips to the bullhead if Jaune hadn't put his foot down, but number of shopping bags was still immense. Mia was half-asleep on Jaune's shoulder, new beret crooked, clutching a stuffed snow leopard Weiss had slipped into the pile when he wasn't looking.

Weiss led them to a small corner café she claimed had "the best éclairs in Vale." The place was all warm wood and soft jazz, with a patio overlooking a quiet courtyard fountain. They claimed a table outside; Mia perked up the moment hot chocolate was mentioned.

Jaune eyed the menu prices and winced. "Weiss, you really didn't have to buy all that. I can pay you back-"

"Absolutely not." She cut him off with an imperious wave. "I wanted to. Consider it an investment in Mia looking presentable when she inevitably charms the entire student body."

"But-"

"Jaune." Her voice gentled. "I have more money than I could spend in three lifetimes. Father made sure of that. Let me use it on people who matter. On friends." She paused, then added with a small smirk, "You can buy lunch next time. Fair?"

He exhaled, relieved. "Deal."

Mia sipped her hot chocolate with both hands, whipped cream on her nose, ears twitching happily as she swung her legs under the table. Jaune ordered sandwiches and soup; Weiss got tea and an éclair she insisted on splitting three ways, when she wasn't cooing and playing with the eager Mia.

While they waited, Mia started telling a rambling story about how her new snow leopard plush was actually a secret Grimm hunter in disguise. Jaune listened with the patient, adoring expression that always made Weiss's chest feel oddly tight.

The food soon arrived. Jaune cut Mia's sandwich into tiny, manageable triangles, and Mia tore into it happily. This gave the adults a moment of relative quiet.

"You're a good father, Jaune," Weiss said suddenly.

He froze, fork halfway to his mouth. "I… try to be."

"No. You are." She set her teacup down precisely. "You're responsible, patient, loving. You put her first every single day, even when it's hard. Even when you're exhausted. That's… rare."

Jaune's ears turned pink. He ducked his head. "Thank you, Weiss. That means a lot. Especially coming from you."

She allowed herself a small smile. "I only speak the truth."

Mia chose that moment to yawn hugely, nearly toppling out of her chair. Jaune caught her instinctively.

"Someone's ready for a nap," he murmured, settling her against his side. She was out within minutes, head pillowed on his arm, new coat draped over her like a blanket.

Weiss watched them, something soft and unfamiliar unfolding behind her ribs.

This feels suspiciously like a date, her mind whispered gleefully.

Lunch with a friend and his daughter, she corrected sternly.

A friend whose eyes crinkle when he laughs, who carries more weight than any twenty-year-old should have to, who looks at you like you hung the moon when you buy his child hair ribbons.

Shut up, she told the voice. He's a widower.

But she didn't look away when Jaune glanced up and smiled—small, tired but grateful and warm.

"Thank you," he said again, quieter. "For today. For all of it."

Weiss lifted her chin, composing herself. "You're welcome. Though next time, we're doing shoes. Those light-up sneakers won't match formalwear."

Jaune groaned dramatically. "My wallet weeps in advance."

"Your wallet is safe. I've already decided. And it will stay that way until I say otherwise."

"Yes ma'am..."

- - -

Some White Knight for those of you craving that in this little story.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The hallway outside Team RWBY's dorm was supposed to be secure: familiar faces, locked doors, the usual Beacon bustle. And Mia Arc was supposed to obey the rules of staying where it was safe. But Mia, ever the explorer, had slipped away during a game of hide-and-seek with Ruby's cloak as camouflage. One moment she was giggling behind a potted plant; the next, her tiny feet had carried her two doors down to a room she'd never seen open before.

The door to Team CMEN's dorm was cracked just enough for a curious four-year-old to squeeze through.

Inside, Cinder Fall stood in front of a full-length mirror, adjusting the fall of her elaborate red dress, the golden accents catching the lamplight like dying coals. Emerald Sustrai lounged on a bed, scrolling idly through her scroll, while Mercury Black leaned against the wall, boots kicked up on a chair, practicing lazy spins of one of his taloned feet.

The soft patter of small shoes made all three freeze.

Mia stood in the doorway, ears perked high, eyes wide with wonder. She took in the room like it was a treasure cave—then zeroed in on Cinder.

"Your dress is so pretty!" she announced, voice bright and fearless. "It's like a villain princess! But the good kind!"

Cinder's visible eye narrowed a fraction, but her cover as the poised, mysterious transfer student held. She turned slowly, forcing her lips into something that might pass for a smile among people who didn't know better.

"Thank you," she said, voice smooth as silk over steel. "That's… very kind."

Mia toddled closer, undaunted, clutching her stuffed bunny by one ear. "And your hair is all fancy! Can I have hair like that? Pleeease?"

Emerald sat up, exchanging a quick, panicked glance with Mercury. Mercury just raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by the sudden hostage situation of the cuteness variety.

Cinder hesitated—only a heartbeat—then gestured to the vanity chair. "Why don't you sit? I'll show you."

Mia scrambled up without waiting for a second invitation, kicking her legs happily. Cinder picked up a brush from the vanity—ebony handle, surprisingly gentle bristles—and began working it through Mia's soft blonde curls. She sectioned the hair with practiced precision, twisting it into an elegant half-up style that echoed her own severe, sweeping waves.

Mia watched in the mirror, utterly enchanted. "It's like magic! You're really good at this!"

Cinder's movements stayed careful, almost mechanical. "Practice," she murmured.

Emerald leaned forward, forcing enthusiasm into her voice. "Hey, kid, you like my hair too?"

Mia twisted to look, nearly toppling off the chair until Cinder steadied her with one hand. "It's super cool! All green and bouncy! Like a forest fairy!"

Emerald's cheeks colored slightly-she wasn't used to compliments. "Uh… thanks?"

"And you!" Mia pointed at Mercury with the authority only a four-year-old could muster. "You're super neat! Your legs are like robot boots! Do they go zoom?"

Mercury barked a short laugh, dropping his feet to the floor. "Kid, you have no idea."

The door suddenly burst open.

Jaune stood there, breathless, relief crashing over his face like a wave. "Mia!"

"Papa!" She hopped down and ran to him. He scooped her up instantly, holding her tight against his chest.

"I'm so sorry," he said to the room at large, though his eyes lingered on Cinder with extra caution. "She wandered off during hide-and-seek. Thank you for… keeping an eye on her."

Cinder set the brush down with deliberate calm. "It was nothing," she said, voice perfectly pleasant. "She's a charming child."

Mia waved enthusiastically over Jaune's shoulder. "Bye, pretty lady! Bye, forest fairy! Bye, robot boots!"

Emerald managed a weak wave. Mercury smirked and saluted with two fingers.

Jaune backed out, murmuring another apology, and pulled the door shut behind him.

Silence settled over the room like dust.

Cinder stood motionless in front of the mirror, staring at her own reflection-or perhaps through it.

Emerald broke first. "…You okay?"

Cinder's lips curved, but the smile didn't reach her eye. "Of course. I was simply maintaining our cover."

Mercury's smirk widened, but he said nothing-just leaned back again, boots thudding onto the chair.

Cinder turned away from the mirror, the ghost of small fingers still warm in her hair where Mia had patted it in delight.

She didn't speak again for a long while.

- - -

And just the tiniest bit for the ArcFall fans.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

All's well that ends well... Sort of.

- - -

In the cozy chaos of Team JNPR's dorm room, the air was light with the usual banter. Ren was brewing tea, Nora was sprawled across her bed tossing a stress ball at the ceiling, and Jaune was fiddling with his sword and its maintenance kit. Pyrrha sat cross-legged on her bed, her fingers nervously twisting a strand of her red hair. The conversation had drifted to Jaune's past, and Pyrrha saw her chance to probe—delicately, she hoped—about this Katy Sith, the cat Faunus ex who'd been haunting her thoughts since Ruby's date proposal.

"Um…" Pyrrha started, her voice soft but deliberate. "So… You had a girlfriend?"

Jaune glanced up from his sword, oblivious to the weight of her question. "Hm? Oh, yeah. Katy Sith! She was great!"

Pyrrha's smile was tight, her heart doing a nervous little flip. "Was she?"

"Yeah!" Jaune grinned, his eyes lighting up with nostalgia. "We were childhood friends! Heh! I actually thought I'd marry her."

Pyrrha's breath caught, her fingers freezing mid-twist. "Did you?"

"But we decided we weren't going to," Jaune said, shrugging as he polished his blade. "We wanted other things out of life, ya know?"

Relief washed over Pyrrha, her shoulders sagging as her smile softened. "Oh! Oh… Yeah…"

Nora, catching the exchange like a hawk, sat up, her stress ball forgotten. "So! How far did you two get?" she asked, her grin positively devilish.

Jaune's polishing slowed, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "…"

Pyrrha's eyes flicked to him, her curiosity now tinged with dread. "… Jaune?"

"I uh…" Jaune cleared his throat, his blush deepening. "I really shouldn't say."

Pyrrha's expression brightened, latching onto his reticence as a lifeline. "Oh, you're being so polite and gentlemanly!"

"Yup!" Jaune said, seizing the escape. "How I was raised!"

Nora snickered, Ren let out a soft chuckle, and even Pyrrha giggled, the tension breaking like a wave. But Pyrrha's curiosity, once sparked, refused to die. She leaned forward, her voice carefully casual.

"… So… Um… How far did you two go?"

Jaune's hands fumbled, nearly dropping his sword. "Um… Well uh… It's not important, right?"

"Of-Of course not!" Pyrrha said quickly, her cheeks flushing as she waved a hand, trying to play it off.

"Right, right…" Jaune muttered, focusing intently on a nonexistent smudge on his blade.

A beat of silence hung in the air.

Nora grinned.

"You totally fucked, didn't you?"

"NORA!" Jaune yelped, his face turning a shade of red that rivaled Pyrrha's hair. His sword clattered onto the floor as he flailed, mortified.

"Well, at least you'll handle Blake just fine," Ren observed.

- - -

Blake Belladonna stood at the Bullhead port in Vale, her heart fluttering with a mix of anticipation and nerves. She'd chosen her outfit carefully—a white sweater that hugged her curves, a black skirt, and stockings that gave her the look of the naughty, book-loving girl she secretly fantasized about being. Her bow twitched slightly as she scanned the crowd, waiting for Jaune.

The rumble of an engine caught her attention, and her eyes widened as Jaune Arc rolled up on a Wayland 205 heavy offroad bike, its sleek frame gleaming under the Vale sun. His blonde hair was slightly tousled from the ride, and his easy smile sent a flush creeping up Blake's cheeks.

"Oh! Uh… I didn't know you had a motorcycle," Blake said, her voice betraying her surprise.

Jaune dismounted, patting the bike fondly. "Well, I couldn't travel from Radian all the way on foot. Besides, my dad gave it to me for my birthday. I've uh, I've kept it in storage because it's cheaper." He flashed a warm smile. "But it's a good day to take it out for a spin. Don't you think?"

Blake's blush deepened, her ears twitching beneath her bow. "S-Sure."

She climbed onto the back of the motorcycle, her arms wrapping around Jaune's waist, her heart racing as the engine roared to life. He pulled into traffic at a steady pace, but Blake's mind was anything but steady. As the wind whipped past, her imagination spiraled into one of her favorite fantasies.

"Even if it's just us against the world, Princess," the noble Biker Knight Tetsuo swore, dodging explosions with deft precision, "I will never leave your side!"

"Oh, Tetsuo~!" Princess Nekomata cried, clinging to him tightly as her kimono rode up over her smooth, long legs—

"We're here!" Jaune's voice snapped Blake back to reality.

"Ah! O-Oh! Good," Blake stammered, her face burning as she slid off the bike.

Jaune parked, and they walked toward the Celsus Bookstore and Coffee House, its charming facade promising a cozy escape. He glanced at her, his tone casual. "Do you want to browse or get lunch first?"

"I… I think lunch would be nice first," Blake said, smoothing her skirt.

"Works for me," Jaune replied with a grin.

They settled at an outdoor table, the sun casting a warm glow over the cobblestone streets of Old Vale. The waitress brought their coffees and teas, and Blake scanned the menu, her gaze drifting to the bustling city around them. The architecture was stunning, the people moved with purpose and joy, and yet… a shadow lingered in her mind.

Jaune's voice broke through her thoughts. "Blake?"

"Sorry… I just…" Her bow twitched, betraying her unease. "I guess I just feel… A little guilty. You're being very kind to me and… And I realize I haven't been very kind to you."

Jaune tilted his head, his expression softening. "Well… I mean… No."

Blake's scowl was immediate, her eyes narrowing.

"Quickly," Jaune added, raising his hands defensively, "you're doing okay now though."

Blake's frown deepened, her voice quiet. "I… I guess I just… I don't know what I'm supposed to say or do."

"Just talk," Jaune said, his tone encouraging. "About something you like. I mean, I don't read a lot of novels anymore, but I do like to read for fun."

Blake raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "I've only seen you with X-Ray and Vav."

Jaune chuckled, unfazed. "I mean, yeah, but that's just like, potato chip reading. My parents were actually really big on the classics."

Blake's interest piqued, her ears perking slightly. "Oh? Like what?"

"Well, um, Aristos' Physics, Politics, Metaphysics… Bardic's plays… The theological works of Saint Edmund, Eustace, and Lucy… And lots of classic kids' books. Ya know, Mark Clemens, T. Selliot, Yules Tern…"

Blake lit up, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I grew up reading a lot of those too, actually." Her smile grew. "I still do from time to time."

"No kidding? That's great!" Jaune's grin widened. "I mean, the CCT signal wasn't always the best out in Radian until my teens, so I had to entertain myself with a lot of other things."

"Same," Blake said, her voice warming. "Fishing, hiking… There are a lot of beautiful beaches around Menagerie, and coral reefs. Despite how dangerous it is, I always liked going out. Not so much swimming, but I loved watching whales and fishing. My father cooked a lot of food on an open fire."

"Hey, mine too!" Jaune said, leaning forward. "We had the mountains, and I hiked a lot. There's the Hanging Lake above Radian, and there's this beautiful waterfall! My uh…" He screwed up his face, counting on his fingers. "Great-Great-Great Grandfather made it as a wedding gift for his bride, by redirecting a mountain river. It's called the Love Story Waterfall."

Blake's eyes sparkled. "I've heard of that! I always wanted to see it…"

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, jumping from literature to childhood adventures. Their food arrived—sandwiches and salads—and they kept talking, barely pausing to eat. After paying, they wandered into the bookstore, their discussion growing more animated.

"I always thought Plateau was overrated as a philosopher," Blake said, browsing a shelf of dusty tomes.

"I dunno, I did like the dialogue he wrote about his teacher and the giant dragon monster," Jaune replied, picking up a book and flipping through it.

Blake smirked. "Heh. I suppose you would remember that one."

"Well, he is talking about how a creature that is so alien to our experience would see us as… As abominations," Jaune said, his tone thoughtful. "If it was like, a pure ideal in physical form. How something pure, even if it's pure evil, would be out of place in a world that's compromised like Remnant. That's kind of neat."

Blake's smirk faded, replaced by a grudging nod. "Hmph. His ideal 'Republic' is the very worst kind of tyranny."

"Yeah, but, nobody's perfect," Jaune said, making a face. "Urgh. My brain feels like it's turning rusty gears remembering all that stuff."

Blake glanced at him, her expression softening. "You know a lot more about it than I would expect a… Um, farmboy to know. No offense."

"None taken," Jaune said with a grin. "My mom wanted me to be a doctor, like her. But well… I wanted to be a Hunter more. Like my dad… And her."

Blake nodded, her gaze distant. "I see… My parents wanted me to take over their… Business as well. I worked very hard with the movement. I studied, I protested, I wrote letters… It just… It never seemed like it was enough."

Her frown returned, heavier this time. "I thought that… That political power only grows out of the barrel of a gun. That if you wanted real change to happen, you needed to force it."

Jaune's own expression grew serious, his eyes meeting hers.

"… Turns out it's… Not that simple," Blake admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"No," Jaune agreed softly, offering a small smile. "I used to ask my great-grandma why she didn't just force people to do what she wanted. She was… Very powerful in her youth. Everyone in the town respects her deeply. But bad things still happen."

Blake tilted her head, curious. "What did she say?"

"She said that no one, no matter how much power they have, can fix everything," Jaune said. "And nobody with ultimate power can be trusted not to abuse it. So… You have give and take. It sucks, but…" He shrugged. "I guess no matter how right you can feel you are, you can still be wrong."

Blake's eyes softened, her voice quiet. "… I suppose there's something to that… But it's not the easiest thing to accept."

"No," Jaune said simply.

"But it is better to accept it than to deny reality…" Blake sighed, her shoulders slumping. "You've been nothing but nice to me. The others too… Even Weiss, sort of. And I just… Lash out. Like I'm fighting injustice. And… And I don't really think I am."

Jaune's tone was gentle but firm. "I mean… I don't think fighting injustice is the problem. It's just how you're doing it."

"I know, I know…" Blake said, frustration creeping into her voice. "I just don't know how to do it differently. Or if it would even work. And so I'm just… I'm frustrated. And I don't know what to do."

"I don't know either," Jaune admitted, his smile reassuring. "But I'm willing to help you, Blake. So is everyone else."

Blake hesitated, her eyes searching his. "… I'll think about it. It… That's not a no. I just…"

Jaune nodded, understanding. "Yeah. I-I get it…"

They paid for their books—a mix of classics and guilty pleasures—and headed back to the motorcycle. As they approached, Blake's voice took on a sly edge. "You know, all of our friends have been spying on us since we got here."

Jaune sighed, glancing at the not-so-subtle rustling bushes nearby. "Yeah… I'm aware."

Blake's smirk grew, her eyes glinting with mischief. "… You're… What do you feel about that?"

"Well, they're concerned about you," Jaune said, shrugging. "Pyrrha's also really concerned for some reason. I guess she's just being an overly protective big sister."

Blake stared, her smirk faltering. "… Really?"

"Well, that's how she comes off as," Jaune said, oblivious to the storm he was stirring. "Like, I appreciate everything she's doing for me, but she keeps coddling me like she's afraid she'll break me."

Blake had promised herself she wouldn't be mean anymore, that she wouldn't stir up trouble. But the opportunity was too perfect, and her playful side won out. She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a teasing purr. "I see… So… Are you still interested in Weiss?"

Jaune blinked, caught off guard. "Hm? No. I mean, she's great, but no. I was kind of a jerk, and she was like, the opposite of my last girlfriend—Oh, um, sorry. I shouldn't mention her—"

"You're not just taking me out on a date because I remind you of her, do I~?" Blake asked, her tone sultry as she closed the distance, her eyes locked on his.

Jaune gulped, his face reddening. "I uh… N-No! No! She um, she wasn't big on books or uh… Nerding out, really…"

Blake's smirk widened, her voice a soft challenge. "So you're… Definitely single?"

"Y-Yes?" Jaune stammered, his back brushing against the motorcycle.

Blake's eyes gleamed. "Not anymore." She grabbed his collar and pulled him into a kiss, her lips warm and bold against his.

- - -

From a poorly concealed hiding spot nearby, chaos erupted.

"WHAT?!" Ruby's voice squeaked, her hood falling back as she gaped.

Yang's jaw dropped, her fists clenching. "I-SHE'S JUST A RERUN! AND I CAN TALK NERD STUFF!"

Weiss's face turned scarlet, her voice a mix of outrage and denial. "How DARE she—She can't just—She's doing it to get to me, I just know it!"

Ruby, her tone dripping with sarcasm, shot Weiss a look. "I thought you didn't have any feelings for him."

"I DON'T!" Weiss snapped, her blush betraying her.

Pyrrha's eye twitched, her voice barely a whisper. "Sister…?! He sees me like a sister?!"

Nora, clutching one of Blake's novels, grinned wickedly. "I don't see the problem! It's right here in one of Blakey's books: 'Incest is best, put your sister to the test!'"

"NORA!" Ruby yelped, horrified.

"WHAT?!" Nora shot back, unrepentant.

Pyrrha's face turned as red as her hair, her mind spiraling as she… considered…

Ren sighed, his voice calm but resigned. "Jaune… I shall pray for your departed soul."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Also guys, GREAT NEWS!

https://rwby.fandom.com/wiki/Arrastra_Skye

Apparently using Plant Dust to heal and restore others' Aura is CANON to RWBY, via the Semblance of this... Severely underwhelming character in RWBY: The Grimm Campaign wherein the cast of RWBY played through a RWBY-themed DnD campaign.

Plant Dust is canon and apparently, so is this campaign (somehow).

https://rwby.fandom.com/wiki/Dust#Plant

So Healing Dust is actually a thing. Or can easily be a thing.

 

[Sliverhero]

Here is a breath of fire crossover. what if the Arc family was one of the few family's left that have dragon blood still left in them and for jaune he unlocked that powerful bloodline that even gods feared.

The Fall of Beacon : The Dragon's Last Resort

Beacon Tower was already dying when Jaune Arc finally broke. Pyrrha Nikos hit the stone hard, Aura shattering in a spray of red light. Her spear skittered uselessly across the floor as Cinder Fall stepped forward, calm, triumphant, incandescent with stolen power. "Such potential," Cinder said softly. "Wasted."
"No." Jaune's voice came out wrong, too deep, too strained. He stood between Cinder and Pyrrha, armor cracked, sword shaking in his grip. His Aura was nearly gone.
But something else was waking up.
Cinder frowned. "You're persistent. I'll give you..."

Jaune screamed no he Roared .
The sound tore through the tower like a living thing. Metal warped. Stone cracked. Heat flooded the air as crimson light bled from the seams of his armor. Bones shifted violently beneath his skin, wings of burning energy ripping free as blackened scales crawled over his arms and face. Horns curved from his brow. His eyes burned molten gold.

Ruby froze. "Jaune…?", deep down inside her she knew this was no semblance.
She could feel in down in her blood, and some how knew an ancient bloodline was awoken in front of her. Jaune vanished in a blast of heat and reappeared beside Pyrrha, lifting her with hands that shook as much from restraint as from fury. In a heartbeat he was with Team RWBY, pressing Pyrrha into Ruby's arms.

"She's alive," he growled. "Take her. Go. Now."
Ruby stared up at him, tears forming. "Jaune, what are you?" His jaw clenched, fangs grinding together, bits of flames leaking out. "…Something I swore I'd never be." He turned back toward the tower's peak, wings flaring wider, casting everything in hellish red light. "I can't control the next form," he said, voice breaking under the weight of truth. "If I change again...run, just run and don't look back."
Yang opened her mouth. "GO!" The shout shook the tower. Weiss dragged Ruby away as Blake grabbed Yang. They fled as the air behind them collapsed inward. Cinder watched, unease finally cracking her smile.

"Well," she said carefully. "This is unexpected."
Jaune straightened. "This," he said, his voice layering, human beneath something vast and ancient, and raw "is the warning."
The hybrid form shattered, not transformed, Shattered, like a seal breaking.

Reality screamed as the Kaiser Dragon forced itself into existence. The tower disintegrated beneath its mass. Wings eclipsed the sky. Claws the size of buildings tore into Beacon's foundations as a single, burning eye opened, an eye that carried the weight of extinction.
Cinder didn't run, she just didn't have time.
The Kaiser exhaled, Not flame, only thing you could call it Erasure. Cinder Fall vanished, no body,no soul,no echo, just a hole where she was standing. The dragon roared, and the sound was not victory, It was hunger.

Below the tower, as they were fleeing, Team RWBY felt it like a hand around the world's throat. Ruby, she collapsed clutching Pyrrha as the shockwave rolled through Vale. Weiss's summons shattered instantly. Blake's shadow clones dissolved. Yang couldn't stop shaking.
They looked up, And understood why Jaune told them to run
"…That's not Jaune," Ruby whispered.
Ozpin marched with them appearing from some rubble they didn't notice, as they all watch the creature and if you could see Ozpin you notice the staff trembling in his grip.
"No," he said quietly. "That is what happens when a dragon reaches the end of its restraint without learning why it should remain human."


As this was happening and Inside the Kaiser dragon, Jaune was still there, his soul buried, drowning in the power that is the kaiser dragon.
His Aura wasn't draining, it was being consumed, as the dragon genes were unstable, incomplete. His aura is sacrificing itself to find a way for jaune soul to stabilise.
He hadn't found the rites, the balance, the anchor his clan required, all complete knowledge was destoryed by the purge done by the brother gods and only thing left are the scraps.

The Kaiser was never meant to be used, It was meant to be survived, but the legends go there will be one that will tame this beast.

On the outside, you can see Instinct drowning out thought. All that remains in the Kaiser heard are these order buried deep in the connection
Purge all corruption, Erase opposition and Continue the line.

The dragon's head turned, Toward Vale, it looks over at the group before looking back at Vale. It can feel the corruption throughout that city.
Ruby felt it, Felt him drowning. "Jaune!" she screamed. "Please... come back!"
The Kaiser inhaled. Ozpin's eyes widened in horror. "…Evacuate the city," he whispered. "If he exhales again, there won't be a Vale left to save." but he knows it is too late.

But luckily or unlucky the answer came. The sky above Beacon rotted. Black ichor poured downward like rain flowing in reverse, tearing open the clouds as something vast forced its way through reality. A Grimm Dragon descended. Bone-white armor. Wings of shadow. Eyes burning with Salem's will.
"So," Salem's voice echoed through it, calm and curious. "The Kaiser truly exists." The Grimm Dragon roared and unleashed a beam of corrupted energy. It struck the Kaiser, enough power to destory a city block and the blast just ceased to exist. The Kaiser didn't dodge. Didn't block, The corruption simply failed. The burning eye focused, onto the grimm dragon and for the first time, the Grimm Dragon hesitated.

Jaune's remaining consciousness screamed as the instinct surged higher. If the Kaiser destroyed the Grimm Dragon too quickly, the purge would continue. It wouldn't stop at Grimm. It wouldn't stop at Vale. The Kaiser inhaled again. Ozpin went pale. "This isn't a battle," he said hoarsely. "It's judgment."
Ruby sobbed. "JAUNE!"
For one heartbeat... One impossible heartbeat ..
The breath stalled. A memory surfaced through the storm. Pyrrha's weight in his arms.
Ruby saying his name like it mattered. A promise he never got to keep.

In that moment of weakness and sanity.
The Grimm Dragon lunged, slamming into the Kaiser with bone-shattering force. Mountains cracked from the impact. The Kaiser roared, not in rage, but in pain, a nd everyone understood the truth. All the wounds on its body from the Grimm dragon started to heal and it clicked with them, this form was never a weapon.It was a doomsday.

Jaune Arc hadn't mastered the dragon yet.
And Remnant was standing beneath a power that should never have awakened.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

First, on the real world:

While it is technically possible for very small countries (city-states like Vatican City, Monaco, or Singapore) to have their entire population concentrated in what is essentially one urban area, for any country with a substantial population (tens of millions or more), concentrating everyone into a single city is practically impossible due to a combination of physical, logistical, economic, environmental, and social constraints. Here's a clear breakdown of the main reasons:

1. Limited Physical Space and Housing

Even the densest cities have limits to how many people can live comfortably and safely per square kilometer.
High-density urban areas (e.g., Manila or Mumbai) reach ~40,000–70,000 people/km² in their core districts, but sustaining that across an entire city is rare and comes with severe quality-of-life issues.
For a country of 100 million people at a realistic average density of 10,000–20,000 people/km² (similar to Tokyo or New York metro), the city would need 5,000–10,000 km²—roughly the size of Lebanon or Connecticut. Larger countries (e.g., 330 million like the U.S.) would require far more land, approaching the size of entire U.S. states.
Building upward (skyscrapers) helps but is extremely expensive, energy-intensive, and limited by engineering and safety concerns.

2. Food and Water Supply

Cities do not produce enough food locally. Most rely on surrounding rural areas or imports for agriculture.
Concentrating a national population in one place would eliminate nearby farmland, forcing total dependence on long-distance food transport or experimental solutions like vertical farming, which currently cannot scale to feed tens or hundreds of millions affordably.
Water is another bottleneck: massive cities require enormous freshwater sources (rivers, aquifers, reservoirs). A single city housing an entire nation would quickly exhaust local supplies and require impractical infrastructure to pipe in water from hundreds or thousands of kilometers away.

3. Energy and Infrastructure Overload

Power generation, waste management, transportation, and sanitation systems would be overwhelmed.
A city of 100+ million would need power plants, sewage systems, and roads/public transit on a scale never built. Current megacities already struggle with blackouts, traffic, and pollution at far smaller sizes.
Waste disposal alone would be catastrophic—imagine the garbage and sewage output of an entire country concentrated in one spot.

4. Economic and Resource Distribution

Economies depend on geographic diversity: mining, forestry, fishing, manufacturing, and energy production often require specific locations (mountains, coasts, fertile plains).
Forcing everything into one city would destroy most primary industries and create extreme vulnerability in supply chains. A single disruption (e.g., blocked highway or port) could cause widespread shortages.

5. Environmental and Health Risks

Extreme concentration creates heat islands, air pollution, and disease transmission risks (as seen in pandemics).
Loss of natural ecosystems would accelerate climate impacts, soil erosion, and biodiversity collapse.
Overcrowding correlates with higher stress, crime, and mental health issues.

6. Vulnerability to Disasters

Putting an entire nation in one location is a massive single point of failure. A natural disaster (earthquake, flood, hurricane), war, or pandemic could devastate or wipe out the population.
Spreading people across a country provides resilience.

Exceptions: City-States
Very small nations like Singapore (~5.9 million people, ~730 km²) or Monaco (~39,000 people) function as city-states because their populations are tiny, they have high wealth for imports/infrastructure, and they rely heavily on trade. Even Singapore actively manages density with strict planning and imports most food and water.

In summary, while technology could theoretically mitigate some issues (e.g., advanced desalination, vertical farms, hyper-efficient transit), the combined constraints of land, resources, infrastructure costs, and risk make it impossible in practice for any moderately large country to put its entire population in one city without catastrophic consequences. Populations naturally spread out because countries need geographic diversity to function sustainably.

And for Remnant:

In Remnant, the four main kingdoms (Vale, Mistral, Atlas, Vacuo) each have a single dominant megacity or capital that serves as the primary hub of population, government, defense, and technology. Yet, despite the existence of these megacities—and even extreme measures like Atlas literally floating its capital above the ground—no kingdom has ever succeeded in housing its entire population within one city, nor would such a setup be viable or historically realistic given the constant, existential threat of the Grimm. Here's why:

1. Grimm Are Attracted to Concentrated Negative of Human Presence and Negative Emotions

Grimm are drawn to large gatherings of humans, especially where negative emotions (fear, anger, despair) are high. A single megacity containing an entire kingdom's population would act as a massive beacon, attracting endless hordes of Grimm far beyond what any defense could sustainably repel.

2. Single Point of Failure Is Catastrophic

If a megacity housing everyone falls—even temporarily—the entire kingdom collapses. There is no fallback population, no secondary settlements to regroup or rebuild. No human civilization in history has ever put all of its eggs in one basket this way, for good reason: It would be suicide. In a world like Remnant that is a death world for humans, it would be even more foolhardy.

3. Resource and Logistic Requirements Cannot Be Fully Centralized

As established earlier, even with Dust's miraculous properties, kingdoms still need distributed agriculture, Dust mining, water sources, and other raw materials (metals, food, etc.).
Dust and other mines would often be in dangerous, Grimm-infested wilderness. Farming requires arable land outside protected urban cores. Trying to feed and supply tens of millions entirely within one city would require unsustainable imports from undefended territories or vertical/indoor farming on a scale never achieved in the real world, which would be even more vulnerable to natural disasters, accidents, failures of utilities, or other problems.
Atlas came closest to centralization but still relied on Mantle below for labor, mining, and basic industry-when Mantle was cut off, the floating city quickly became untenable.

4. Geographic and Natural Defenses Dictate Settlement Patterns

Kingdoms were deliberately established in locations with natural barriers that limit Grimm incursions (Vale's cliffs and forests, Mistral's mountains and plateaus, Vacuo's deserts, Atlas/Solitas's extreme cold).
These natural defenses protect a core city but cannot be scaled to enclose an entire kingdom's worth of territory or population.
Distributing some population into smaller, defensible small cities, towns, villages and outposts spreads the Grimm threat and allows resource extraction from wider areas.

5. Historical and Cultural Development Prevented Extreme Centralization

After the Great War, kingdoms were rebuilt with a focus on survival against Grimm, not maximum urban density. Societies evolved to maintain Huntsmen academies, mobile defenders, and scattered settlements because total centralization had already been proven suicidal.
Smaller villages and nomadic/trading routes (especially in Mistral and Vacuo) are necessary for cultural diversity easing tensions, and economic resilience. Forcing everyone into one city would require forcibly relocating millions—an impossible task under constant Grimm pressure.

6. Psychological and Social Sustainability

Cramming an entire kingdom into one city would generate enormous negative emotions (overcrowding, inequality, resource scarcity), further fueling Grimm attacks in a vicious cycle.
Remnant's people need space—both literal and psychological—to maintain hope and stability. Distributed populations reduce the emotional "signal" that attracts Grimm.

In summary, while Remnant's megacities are impressive feats of engineering and technology, the ever-present Grimm would force a distributed model of civilization. Total centralization would create an irresistible target, eliminate resource diversity, and guarantee extinction if defenses ever failed. Kingdoms survive precisely because they spread risk across protected cores and necessary outlying settlements—much like real-world nations avoid putting all citizens, agriculture, and industry in one place for similar reasons of resilience and vulnerability.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Remnant's civilizations in RWBY rely on Dust as their primary energy source and elemental manipulator, but even with its near-miraculous properties, the kingdoms still fundamentally require a vast array of conventional minerals, fossil fuels, and robust logistical systems (no matter what CRWBY says). Dust provides power and effects—it does not create physical matter, biological necessities, or stable chemical feedstocks. Below is a detailed explanation of why Remnant needs all of these resources, grouped by function, and why no combination of Dust varieties can ever fully substitute for them.

1. Structural and Construction Materials
These minerals form the physical backbone of everything built in Remnant—cities, airships, weapons, robots, walls, and infrastructure.

• Iron, Aluminum, Titanium, Chromium, Manganese, Molybdenum, Tungsten, Vanadium, Niobium, Zinc, Beryllium
  • Required for steel and high-strength alloys used in skyscrapers, airship hulls, robotic frames (Atlesian Knights, Penny), bridges, railways, and weapons.
• Lead
  • Radiation shielding in advanced labs, cables, alloys.
• Fossil Fuels
  • Paints and coatings, adhesives, explosives (non-Dust), insulation, solvents, asphalt.

Dust cannot replace these because it is consumable and lacks the mechanical properties (tensile strength, ductility, heat resistance) needed for permanent structures.

2. Electronics and Advanced Technology
Remnant's Scrolls, CCT networks, robotic AI, sensors, and other such systems all require sophisticated electronics.

• Copper, Gold, Silver, Tin, Tantalum, Indium, Gallium, Germanium, Silicon, Rare Earth Elements
  • Conductors, semiconductors, capacitors, displays, and circuit boards. Gold and silver for reliable contacts; tantalum for compact capacitors in Scrolls; rare earths for magnets in motors and speakers.
• Beryllium
  • Lightweight, rigid components in aerospace and precision instruments.
• Fossil Fuels
  
  • Synthetic rubber, plastics, lubricants, refrigerants, antifreeze and coolants

Dust can be woven into circuits for elemental effects (e.g., Lightning Dust for power), but the physical wiring, chips, and screens still demand these minerals. Dust alone would short-circuit or explode under sustained use.

3. Energy Systems and Batteries
While Dust dominates primary energy, stable storage and backup systems are still needed. And fossil fuels can provide other useful products.

• Lithium, Cobalt, Nickel, Graphite, Manganese, Lead
  • Rechargeable batteries for portable devices, prosthetic limbs, vehicles, and grid storage. Lead-acid batteries for heavy machinery backups.
• Fossil Fuels (Coal, Oil, Natural Gas)
  • Petrochemicals for plastics, synthetic rubber, lubricants, dyes, and explosives not suited to Dust's volatility.
  • Stable, long-duration power for remote outposts or industrial processes where Dust detonation risk is unacceptable.
  • Backup generators in critical facilities (hospitals, academies) during Dust shortages or embargoes.

Dust is consumable and volatile—it depletes and can detonate if mishandled. Fossil fuels provide consistent, non-explosive energy and chemical feedstocks that Dust cannot replicate without constant Aura control.

4. Agriculture and Food Security
No amount of Dust can sustainably feed millions.

• Phosphate Rock, Potash
  • Phosphorus and potassium fertilizers essential for soil fertility for agriculture and animal husbandry. Plant Dust can force temporary growth in combat, but it depletes soil and cannot replace nutrient cycles.
• Fossil Fuels
  • Diesel for farming equipment in rural zones, ammonia synthesis (Haber-Bosch process) for nitrogen fertilizers, and pesticides/herbicides derived from petrochemicals.

Remnant's villages and kingdoms still farm real crops and real animals on real land. Dust tricks cannot scale to year-round food production for entire populations.

5. Specialized Industrial and Chemical Uses
All of the man made items we see in Remnant still require chemical processes to produce.

• Platinum Group Metals, Fluorspar, Tungsten
  • Catalysts, high-temperature tools, refractories, and chemical processing (e.g., refining Dust itself or producing synthetic materials).
• Fossil Fuels
  • Base chemicals for plastics in consumer goods, inks, cosmetics, packaging materials. waxes, medical supplies, and synthetic fabrics.

Why All Varieties of Dust Cannot Replace These Resources
Even with every known type and combination (Fire, Water, Ice, Wind, Lightning, Gravity, Hard-Light, Plant, Steam, etc.):

1. Dust Is Energy and Manipulation, Not Matter
   • It releases forces or temporary effects—it does not create durable mass. You cannot build a building, circuit board, or battery out of Dust crystals; they would dissipate or explode.
2. Dust Is Consumable and Volatile
   • Once activated, it's gone. Infrastructure must be permanent and stable; fossil fuels and minerals provide that permanence.
3. Biological and Chemical Limits
   • Food production requires real nutrients, soil chemistry, and stable energy sources. Water Dust makes temporary water; Plant Dust grows combat vines—not sustainable crops.
4. Logistical and Geographic Constraints Persist
   • All these resources are location-specific and require mining, refining, farming, and secure transport chains—often through Grimm-infested areas.
   • Overreliance on any one resource would create catastrophic vulnerabilities (as Atlas's over-reliance on Dust showed).
5. Historical Evidence in Canon
   • Kingdoms still mine metals, farm food, and maintain physical supply lines. Atlas's downfall was partly due to cutting off Mantle's basic resources, not just Dust.

In short, Dust is the spark that makes Remnant's technology spectacular, but the kingdoms are built on the same mundane foundations as real-world civilizations: metals for structure, minerals for electronics and agriculture, fossil fuels for stable chemistry and backups, and distributed logistics for resilience. Without them, even infinite Dust would leave Remnant unable to build, feed, or sustain itself.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Petrochemical Production in Remnant: A Grounded Overview

In our version of Remnant—where fossil fuels exist as a critical complement to Dust—petrochemical production is a highly specialized, heavily defended industry that operates almost entirely within the safest kingdom territories. It is not as dominant as Dust energy, but it is indispensable for manufacturing stable, non-volatile materials that Dust cannot reliably produce (e.g., plastics, synthetic rubber, fertilizers, and lubricants). Production is limited in scale, geographically constrained, and deeply integrated with Dust technology for efficiency and defense.

1. Sources of Raw Materials

• Oil and Natural Gas Deposits: These are finite, location-specific resources, much like Dust or metal ores. Major fields are found in:
  • Solitas (Atlas): Offshore rigs in frozen coastal waters or tundra drilling sites—cold slows Grimm, making extraction safer.
  • Sanus (Vale): On and offshore fields in protected inland basins or near Patch's coastal areas.
  • Anima (Mistral): Smaller, scattered deposits in lower valleys or terraced foothills, as well as offshore rigs in sheltered coves.
  • Vacuo: Limited desert shale plays, extracted via mobile, nomadic rigs that relocate frequently to avoid Grimm, or fortified rigs that become small towns in the jungles, deserts or badlands.
• Deposits are discovered and mapped by Huntsmen-led exploration teams. Extraction is never done in open wilderness without heavy escort.

2. Extraction Process

• Drilling and Pumping: Dust-enhanced rigs (Gravity Dust for lifting, Fire Dust for controlled heating in cold climates) bore into reservoirs. Platforms are fortified with armor and automated turrets.
• Offshore Operations: Atlas dominates here with floating platforms protected by airship patrols. Wells are pumped using Dust-electric hybrid systems to minimize explosive risks.
• Safety Measures: Operations have small crews to avoid creating large negative-emotion beacons. Workers rotate frequently, and sites include mandatory morale officers or recreational facilities to keep spirits high and Grimm attraction low.

3. Refining and Processing

• Refineries: Located exclusively inside or near major cities (e.g., Mantle's industrial ring, Vale's port districts). These are massive, walled complexes with multi-layer defenses:
  • Atmospheric distillation towers separate crude into fractions (gasoline, diesel, naphtha, etc.).
  • Catalytic cracking and reforming units (powered by stable Lightning Dust generators) break heavy molecules into usable petrochemical feedstocks.
• Key Outputs:
  • Light fractions → fuels for backup generators and heavy machinery.
  • Heavy fractions → lubricants, asphalt.
  • Intermediate chemicals → ethylene, propylene, benzene—the building blocks for plastics and synthetics.
• Dust Integration: Fire/Ice Dust precisely controls temperatures in reactors; Gravity Dust assists in material handling. However, core chemical reactions still rely on traditional catalysis (platinum-group metals) because Dust is too volatile for sustained, controlled processing.

4. Downstream Manufacturing

• Petrochemical plants polymerize feedstocks into:
  • Plastics (Scroll casings, weapon parts).
  • Synthetic fibers and rubber (clothing, tires).
  • Fertilizers and pesticides (via ammonia synthesis for nitrogen).
• These facilities are clustered in industrial zones with direct pipeline connections from refineries, minimizing transport risks.

5. Logistics and Distribution

• Pipelines: Buried lines within kingdom borders, patrolled by Huntsmen or drones.
• Transport: Armored tankers (ground/rail/sea/air) for inter-kingdom trade, always under heavy protection. Vacuo relies on mobile tanker caravans.
• Vulnerabilities: Sabotage or Grimm breaches can cause shortages and unrest.

6. Challenges and Limitations

• Grimm Threat: Large industrial sites generate activity and occasional accidents (spills, fires) that attract Grimm. Refineries require constant Huntsmen presence and rapid-response teams.
• Scale Constraints: Production is carefully managed to avoid over-reliance and to keep operations defensible. Kingdoms import specialized catalysts or rare additives when local mining falls short.
• Environmental and Political Issues: Pollution is managed with Dust aided methods, but spills in rural areas can devastate villages. Faunus labor is heavily involved in dangerous extraction jobs in various polities, fueling discrimination tensions.
• Why Dust Cannot Replace It: Dust provides energy and elemental effects but lacks the stable carbon backbones needed for complex polymers. Attempting to synthesize petrochemicals purely with Dust would be inefficient, explosive, and unable to scale.

In summary, petrochemical production in Remnant is a quiet but vital industry—far less glamorous than Dust, yet essential for the plastics in a Scroll, the rubber components of a Paladin, or the fertilizers feeding a kingdom. It reinforces the theme that even with miraculous Dust, Remnant's civilizations remain tethered to the same resource and logistical realities as our world, forcing careful, defended development within natural strongholds while under siege by the Grimm.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Jaune had always been the guy who tried too hard and still came up short. But the day he accidentally unlocked his mother's old Strength Enhancing Technique, everything changed.

He didn't even mean to do it. He'd watched his mom do it a hundred times back home—casual flex of Aura, a faint golden shimmer along her arms, and suddenly she could haul firewood like it was kindling. One afternoon in Vale's central park, Jaune saw a little girl crying under a tree because her cat, Mister Whiskers, had climbed too high. Without thinking, he reached for his Aura the way he'd seen her do it.

The surge hit him like warm lightning.

He wrapped both hands around the trunk of a full-grown oak and pulled.

The tree came up roots and all, dirt cascading down like brown rain. Jaune gave it an experimental shake. "Come on, Mister Whiskers… come out…!"

A small orange tabby dropped neatly into the waiting arms of the little girl.

So did Blake Belladonna.

She landed in a crouch, ears flat, amber eyes narrowed. The little girl hugged her cat and beamed up at Jaune. "Thanks, mister!"

"No problem!" Jaune said brightly, trying to figure out how to set a whole tree down gently. He didn't quite manage it. The oak slipped from his grip and crashed down—directly on top of a speeding getaway car the Vale PD had been chasing for three blocks.

Metal crumpled. Sirens wailed to a stop. Two officers jumped out, stared at the pinned vehicle, then at the sheepish blond holding a handful of broken roots.

"Thanks, kid!" one cop called. "Great work!"

Jaune rubbed the back of his neck. "Um… no problem…? Blake?"

Blake brushed leaves from her sleeves, expression unreadable. "Jaune."

A week later, Team RWBY's dorm was the scene of minor tragedy.

Ruby lay flat on the floor, one arm stretched futilely under the common-room fridge. "Ah, dang it! I dropped the new focusing lens for Crescent Rose…

Hey, Yang, can you—"

"I got you, Ruby!" Jaune chirped, already striding over.

He bent, slipped one hand under the fridge, and lifted the entire thing one-armed, like it was an empty cardboard box.

Ruby blinked up at the suddenly exposed underside. "There it is!"

She snatched the lens, dusted it off, and only then noticed the fridge was still hovering three feet off the ground.

"Uh… you can drop the fridge now, right?"

"Oh! Right." Jaune carefully lowered it back into place, though he reached out and swept several items out from underneath it.

"That's... A lot of stuff," Jaune observed.

A silver locket, a hairbrush, fifty lien in crumpled bills, and—Ruby's face heating bright red—a dog-eared paperback titled Captive Ninja Kunoichi, cover featuring a suspiciously familiar dark-haired Faunus in strategic ropes.

Blake appeared in the doorway, took in the scene, and plucked the book from the pile without a word.

"I wondered where that went."

Jaune's blush reached his ears.

The real test came in the Emerald Forest during a routine Grimm-clearing exercise.

A Deathstalker the size of a city bus burst from the underbrush, tail stinger already arcing toward Jaune. He threw his shield up on reflex. The tail struck with a sound like a cannon shot.

Jaune didn't move an inch.

The Deathstalker recoiled, confused. It struck again. And again. Each impact rang against Crocea Mors like a hammer on an anvil, but Jaune stood rooted, boots sunk half an inch into the soil, utterly unmoved.

He glanced over his shield at his teammates. "Huh. Uh… can someone kill this thing now?"

Weiss's jaw actually dropped. "What—HOW DOES THAT EVEN WORK?!"

Jaune shrugged, still holding back the furious Grimm with one arm. "I dunno, but it is!"

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The Schnee mansion's grand foyer felt colder than Atlas winter that night.

Winter Schnee stood before her father's desk in the study, uniform crisp, posture flawless—even as Jacques Gele's words cut deeper than any blade.

"You are no longer a Schnee," he said, voice like frostbite. "You defy me at every turn—enlisting in the military, rejecting the company's future. Leave this house. You are disowned."

Willow sat silent in the corner, glass in hand, eyes distant. Whitley and Weiss weren't present—spared this, at least.

Winter's chin lifted. "If that's your decision, Father, I accept it."

She turned on her heel, strides measured, refusing to let him see the tremor in her hands.

Fafnir stood guard outside the study doors—seven feet of shadowed menace, wings folded like a cloak, red eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. He didn't move as she passed, but his gaze followed her.

Winter paused at the top of the grand staircase, duffel bag slung over one shoulder—the few belongings she'd packed in defiance. She looked back at him.

"You're letting me go," she said quietly. "Just like that."

Fafnir's masked face was unreadable. "You're not a prisoner."

She descended a few steps, then stopped, turning to face him fully.

"You're a warrior, Fafnir. I've seen it—felt it—in every training session you risked giving me. You have honor. Code. Why do you continue to serve him? He's a corrupt monster who treats his own blood like assets to discard."

Fafnir was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was low, gravel over steel.

"I owe him my life. More than once. He pulled me from the gutter, gave me purpose when my clan was ash. Paid for these—" he flexed his cybernetic claw, metal gleaming—"when assassins left me in pieces. Debts like that don't fade."

Winter's eyes narrowed. "And I owe him nothing. I'm his daughter, not his debtor."

"You owe him your life too," Fafnir said bluntly. "The privilege you were born into. The safety these walls gave you. But you're right—you're not his daughter anymore."

He stepped closer, towering over her, but there was no threat in it—only a strange, solemn weight.

"Go," he said. "Become strong. Stronger than him. Stronger than the chains he thinks he forged."

Winter searched his scarred, masked face for mockery and found none.

"You truly mean that."

"I do."

She exhaled slowly, the anger and hurt shifting into something fiercer—resolve.

"I will," she said. "I'll become the soldier he never wanted. The protector he couldn't buy."

Fafnir inclined his head—a rare gesture of respect.

"Then go, Winter Schnee-no-more. And don't look back."

She did exactly that—walked down the stairs, through the doors, into the Atlas night without hesitation.

But his words burned in her chest like a glyph she'd never forget.

Become strong.

She would.

For herself.

And someday, perhaps, strong enough to face even the dragon who'd let her go.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Knightly/Military Orders of the Church of the Tablebreaker in Remnant

Much like medieval knightly orders on Earth, the Church of the Tablebreaker maintains several semi-military orders across Remnant. These Orders function as respected, semi-autonomous religious-military-charitable institutions with a strong presence in humanitarian aid, Grimm response, Dust-infused medical care, and community defense. The Order of Saint Edmund is especially known for its work in urban hospitals, mobile trauma response teams, refugee/Faunus aid programs, and rapid-deployment "Hospitaller Companies" that support Huntsmen/Huntresses during major Grimm incursions. Below is a typical organizational chart for one such order: The Order of Saint Edmund.

Organizational Chart — Order of Saint Edmund (Modern Era)

Grand Master of the Order
(sovereign religious and executive head of the entire Order worldwide; elected for life or until resignation/incapacity; ultimate authority over doctrine, vows, and major policy)
Grand Seneschal
(chief operating officer and second-in-command; oversees day-to-day administration, legal affairs, and coordination between global and local structures)
Grand Marshal
(supreme commander of all armed and paramilitary forces of the Order; responsible for training standards, deployment doctrine, and coordination with Huntsmen guilds and national militaries during Grimm crises)
Grand Almoner / Grand Hospitaller
(head of all charitable, medical, and humanitarian operations; oversees hospitals, mobile clinics, refugee programs, charity initiatives, and medical research & relief)
Sovereign Council / Magistral Council (advisory & governing body)

• Meets regularly under the Grand Master
• Includes the four Grand Officers above + elected Councillors (usually 6–10 senior professed members)

High Central Officers (Aelia Paravel-equivalent staff roles, global but with strong influence on major Sects)

• Procurator General (chief legal counsel and compliance officer)
• Secretary General (handles communications, archives, and international liaison)
• Seneschal of the Magistral Convent (manages the Order's central headquarters and ceremonial life)
• Receiver of the Common Treasury (CFO — global finances, endowments, Dust & resource management)

Regional / Provincial Level — Radian Province Sect
Preceptor / Grand Prior of Radian
(regional superior; appointed or elected leader of the entire Radian Sect; reports directly to the Grand Seneschal and Sovereign Council; combines spiritual, administrative, and operational authority in the region)
Deputy Prior / Seneschal of Radian
(day-to-day manager of the Sect's operations)
Master of Radian Province/Provincial Master
(military / security commander for the Sect; leads all armed response units and liaises with Radian's Huntsman academies and city defense forces)
Almoner / Hospitaller of Radian
(directs all local medical, charitable, and social outreach programs — hospitals, clinics, soup kitchens, Faunus aid centers, orphanages, mobile aid convoys)Commandery / Preceptory Level (individual houses / bases in and around Radian)
Knight Commander / Preceptor
(leader of a specific commandery — e.g., Central Radian Hospital Commandery, Vale Border Relief Commandery, Lower Districts Aid Commandery, etc.)

Nicholas Arc is the Knight Commander of the town of Radian, the capital of Radian Province.

Professed Knights(full-vowed members)

• Elite core
• Have taken solemn perpetual vows
• Serve in leadership, ceremonial, combat, or senior medical roles
• Ranked from Knight Captain to Knight Major.

Knights in Obedience

• Junior professed knights or those still in temporary vows
• Serve as field commanders, trauma surgeons, Grimm-response squad leaders, etc.
• Ranked from Knight Second Lieutenant to Knight First Lieutenant.

Serving Brothers / Knight Sergeants

• Form the backbone of operational units: medics, drivers, engineers, logistics specialists, security details, Dust technicians, field cooks, etc.
• Ranked from Knight to Knight Master Sergeant.

Lay Auxiliaries / Volunteers / Confraters

• Unvowed members and associates
• Include trained paramedics, drivers, counselors, translators, Faunus community liaisons
• Many participate through affiliated programs (similar to St. John Ambulance volunteers)

Chaplains (parallel spiritual structure)

• Ordained priests of the Tablebreaker Church assigned to the Order
• Provide sacraments, spiritual direction, last rites on battlefields, and moral guidance
• Report ultimately to the Grand Master (via the Grand Commander / religious superior), but serve locally under the Preceptor of Radian

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The Federal Republic of Vale operates as a semi-presidential constitutional republic with strong influences from the Roman Republic (collegial executive, aristocratic senate-like body, popular assemblies via elected lower house), the French Fifth Republic (semi-presidential dual executive with direct presidential election + parliamentary confidence elements), and the United States (bicameral legislature with proportional/popular representation in one chamber, independent judiciary, checks and balances).

This creates a hybrid system emphasizing divided power to prevent tyranny (Roman checks via collegiality and veto), popular legitimacy (French/American direct elections), and federal/sub-national representation (nod to Vale's sub-kingdoms/provinces).

Executive Branch
The executive is dual-headed (semi-presidential style), blending Roman consular collegiality with French Fifth Republic dynamics.

• Chancellor(Head of State / Chief Executive, akin to French President + Roman Consul)
  • Elected by direct popular vote (nationwide, possibly two-round majority system like France to ensure broad support).
  • Term: 5–7 years (renewable once, to avoid short-termism; French influence with Roman annual limits softened for stability).
  • Primary responsibilities: Foreign policy, defense/national security (Ministry of War/State), diplomacy, emergency powers (limited, like French Article 16), commander-in-chief of armed forces.
  • Appoints/dismisses the Chairman/Chairwoman (with legislative constraints).
  • Can dissolve the Low Council (like French president dissolving National Assembly) under specific conditions (e.g., after consulting Speakers and High Council President).
  • Ceremonial roles: Represents Vale internationally, signs/enacts laws (with veto possible, overridden by legislature supermajority), grants pardons.
• Chairman/Chairwoman(Head of Government / akin to French Prime Minister + Roman Consul sharing domestic duties)
  • Elected by the Legislature (joint session of High + Low Council, requiring majority support; akin to parliamentary confidence vote).
  • Term: Tied to legislative confidence (can fall via no-confidence vote from Low Council, forcing resignation or dissolution).
  • Primary responsibilities: Domestic policy, economy, administration (oversees Ministries of Commerce, Interior, Education, Health, etc.).
  • Directs day-to-day government operations and cabinet (Ministers appointed by Chancellor on Chair's recommendation).
  • Responsible to the legislature (can be censured/removed by Low Council majority).
• Collegiality & Checks (Roman influence): Chancellor and Chair share executive power; each can veto the other's major decisions in overlapping areas (e.g., war declaration needs both). In cohabitation (different parties/factions), power tilts toward the directly elected Chancellor (French style).
• Cabinet/Ministries: Appointed by Chancellor on Chair's proposal. Key ones include Ministry of War (defense), Ministry of State (foreign affairs), Ministry of Commerce (trade/economy), etc. Ozpin's role as Head of Huntsmen fits as a high-level agency head/advisor (like a cabinet-level position reporting to both executives).

Legislative Branch
Bicameral parliament (strong Roman Senate + modern bicameralism like US/France).

• High Council(Upper House / akin to Roman Senate + French Senate + US Senate)
  • Represents sub-kingdoms/provinces (federal element).
  • Members (Councilors) appointed by sub-kingdom governments (nobility-descended families, governors, or hereditary seats with modern confirmation).
  • Smaller size (e.g., 2–3 per sub-kingdom).
  • Longer terms (8–10 years, staggered) for stability.
  • Powers: Confirms high appointments (e.g., Supreme Court judges, some ministers), ratifies treaties, tries impeachments, equal say on constitutional amendments.
  • Presided over by Speaker of the High Council (elected by members; leads coalitions/parties in upper house).
• Low Council(Lower House / akin to US House + French National Assembly + Roman tribal/centuriate assemblies)
  • Directly elected by popular vote (proportional representation from sub-kingdoms, ensuring population-based seats).
  • Larger size, shorter terms (4–5 years).
  • Primary initiator of legislation, budget/tax bills, no-confidence votes against Chair.
  • Presided over by Speaker of the Low Council (e.g., Rufus Winchester; elected by members, powerful coalition leader).
• Joint Powers: Both houses must pass identical bills (conference committees resolve differences). Legislation can originate in either (but money bills start in Low). Chair needs Low Council confidence.

Judicial Branch
Independent, US-style with Roman/French touches.

• Supreme Court of Vale(top court)
  • 9 justices (odd number avoids ties; US influence).
  • Appointed by Chancellor (nominated) + confirmed by High Council (advice/consent).
  • Lifetime tenure for independence.
  • Final interpreter of Valean Constitution; judicial review of laws/executive actions.
• Lower Courts: Hierarchy of appellate, district, and specialized courts (e.g., administrative, military).
  • Judges appointed by executive (Chancellor/Chair) or legislature, with varying terms/confirmation.
• Checks: Can declare laws unconstitutional; impeachment possible for misconduct (by legislature).

Additional Modern/Federal Touches

• Sub-kingdoms/Provinces: Retain significant autonomy (like French regions or US states), with own legislatures/governors feeding into High Council.
• Constitution: Rigid amendment process (supermajority in both houses + referendum, French style).
• Checks & Balances: Chancellor dissolves Low Council → new elections; legislature removes Chair; judiciary checks both; Roman-style vetoes/collegiality in executive.
• Elections: Mix direct (Chancellor, Low Council) + indirect (High Council, Chair).

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The Mistralian Confederation (formally the Confederated Provinces of Mistral, or simply Mistral) is a loose confederation of semi-autonomous provinces/sub-kingdoms in Anima, structured as a nominal republic with heavy warlord-era Chinese influences (1916–1928 Beiyang/Nanjing period). It features a weak, fragmented central government in the capital (Mistral, also once called Fengshi in Liu Bei Province), overshadowed by three dominant ideological/military factions (Green, Red, Yellow Dragons) that control provinces, armies, syndicates, and resources. The system is republican in name (post-overthrow of the Utopianist Regime in the Great War), but in practice is a multi-clique warlord confederation with constant intrigue, shifting alliances, assassinations, and proxy conflicts.

Mistral is a federation in theory but functions as a decentralized patchwork where provinces retain near-sovereign control over taxes, armies, justice, and foreign ties. Sub-kingdoms like the Hellenic Confederation, Fuujin, Taejo, Pandu, and Rostram, pay nominal tribute or send delegates but ignore central edicts.

Religious/cultural elements: Predominantly Pathist, with the holy Valley of Peace (near Ren/Nora's village, home to the Dragon Sage) as supreme spiritual site. Aelia Paravel in Narn sub-kingdom is an autonomous holy city-state for the Tablebreaker Church, often neutral or mediating but plays host to Valean and Atlasian military bases for protection.

Executive Branch – Nominal & Weak Central Authority
President / Grand Custodian (Head of State – akin to Beiyang/Nanjing-era President)

• Elected (or "acclaimed") by the National Assembly in theory, but in practice installed/removed by whichever faction/clique holds the capital or most military leverage.
• Term: 5–7 years nominally, but often shortened by coups, "retirements," or assassinations.
• Powers: Ceremonial (signs laws, receives foreign envoys, appoints nominal ministers), commander-in-chief on paper, but real military command rests with provincial warlords/faction leaders.
• Often a figurehead from a compromise faction (e.g., a neutral elder, minor noble, or rotating puppet). Weak presidency reflects post-revolution rejection of monarchy but failure to build strong republican institutions.

Premier / Grand Chancellor (Head of Government – akin to Premier in Nationalist era)

• Appointed by President with Assembly "approval," but chosen by dominant faction/clique controlling the capital.
• Directs nominal cabinet, but ministries are starved of funds and loyalty; real power in provincial governors/warlords.
• Handles day-to-day administration when factions agree (rarely).

Cabinet / Five Yuan System (Based on early ROC, but dysfunctional)

• Nominal ministries (War, Foreign Affairs, Interior, Finance, Justice, etc.).
• Head of Huntsmen – Semi-independent academy head, controls elite Huntsmen units but often faction-aligned or neutral. (Leonardo Lionheart)
• Real executive power lies with faction leaders (Lady Jia Xu for Green, Kael Draven for Red, Khan Rostam IV for Yellow), who command private armies, control provinces, and run parallel "governments."

Legislative Branch – Fragmented & Symbolic
National Assembly (Bicameral, weak central parliament)

• Upper House: Council of Provinces / Dragon Council
  • Delegates from each province/sub-kingdom (2–4 per major province, 1 from minor/sub-kingdoms like Hellenic Confederation, Fuujin).
  • Appointed by provincial governors/warlords or faction bosses.
  • Focus: Ratifies treaties, constitutional changes, symbolic unity. Often boycotted or deadlocked by faction vetoes.
• Lower House: People's Chamber / Representatives' Yuan
  • "Elected" (manipulated) from districts, proportional-ish but rigged by local warlords/syndicates.
  • Initiates laws/budgets nominally, but rarely functions without faction consensus.

Assembly meets irregularly in capital; laws unenforceable outside faction territories. Real "legislation" happens via faction pacts, syndicate deals, or warlord edicts.

Judicial Branch – Decentralized & Patronage-Based
Supreme Tribunal of Mistral

• Nominal highest court in capital, interprets "Confederation Charter".
• Justices appointed by President/Assembly, but loyalty to factions; rulings ignored if inconvenient.

Lower Courts

• Provincial/high courts controlled by local warlords/governors; justice often arbitrary or syndicate-influenced.

Key Features & Dynamics

• Three Dragon Factions as De Facto Power Blocs
  • Green Dragon (Traditionalist/Restorationist) – Dominant in Liu Bei & Guan Yu Provinces; controls ancient arts, elite traditional warriors, cultural institutions. Want to restore the Emperor to the Jade Throne to create unity. Ties with Atlas due to both favoring strong central government and distrust of Vale.
  • Red Dragon (Meritocratic/Revolutionary) – Strong in Zhang Fei & Zhou Yu; tech innovators, Faunus support, Hellenic/Pandu/Valean ties.
  • Yellow Dragon (Expansionist/Authoritarian) – Rules Cao Cao & eastern deserts; Mughal cavalry, syndicates, aggressive raids.
• Syndicates / Organized Crime – Parallel power (like triads in 1920s China); fund factions, smuggle Dust, assassinate rivals, control black markets.
• Sub-Kingdom Autonomy – Hellenic Confederation (Argus) runs Greek-style city-state democracy, leans Vale/Atlas. Fuujin self-governs (akin to modern Japan). Taejo/Pandu/Rostram independent, nominal vassals at best.
• Weak Central Government – Capital under rotating faction occupation; "national" army tiny/fragmented; Huntsmen academies semi-autonomous/neutral-ish.
• Cultural/Religious Overlay – Pathist monasteries mediate disputes; Valley of Peace as pilgrimage site for unity appeals; Tablebreaker Church in Aelia Paravel influences morals/diplomacy.

In short, as Ozpin once said, you could not pay me enough to get into Mistralian politics.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Vacuo Government Structure: The Sultanate of Vacuo
The Sultanate of Vacuo (officially the United Sultanate of Vacuo) is a highly decentralized federal monarchy that exists more on paper than in practice. Founded roughly 800 years ago by Malik the Sunderer, who united the fractured post-Xolotl sub-kingdoms under a single banner, Vacuo was a strong, centralized state blending Tablebreaker faith, revolutionary zeal, and pragmatic tribal governance. Today, it is a fragile confederation of semi-independent sub-kingdoms, city-states, nomadic tribes, and oasis strongholds held together by a weak central authority, constant negotiation, and the looming threat of Grimm incursions. The capital is in Vacuo City, also known as Shadovar.

Vacuo's government is deliberately loose—designed to accommodate the continent's harsh desert environment, nomadic lifestyles, history of warfare, and deeply ingrained distrust of centralized power (a direct reaction to the break up of the kingdom post the end of Malik the Sunderer's bloodline). The result is a system that functions through consensus, patronage, personal loyalty, and survival pragmatism rather than rigid law. Wars between tribes and even sub-kingdoms are common.

Executive Branch – The Sultan and the Grand Council
Sultan / Sultana (Head of State and nominal supreme authority)

• Hereditary monarch from Malik the Sunderer's bloodline (currently contested as the line of Sultans is broken-Held by the Mudif (A hereditary Regent Position).
• Symbolic and spiritual leader; officially commander-in-chief and protector of the Tablebreaker faith in Vacuo.
• Powers:
  • Declares national emergencies (rarely heeded outside the capital).
  • Appoints the Grand Vizier (head of government).
  • Mediates disputes between sub-kingdoms (success varies wildly).
  • Grants pardons and titles, appoints judges.
• In practice: Often a figurehead or puppet of the strongest coalition of sub-kingdoms/tribes at any given time. Real power lies with regional rulers.

Grand Vizier (Head of Government)

• Appointed by the Sultan/Mudif with approval of the Grand Council.
• Runs the day-to-day administration in the capital (Shadovar, built around Malik's oasis).
• Oversees the few functioning central ministries: Water Rights, Grimm Defense Coordination, Trade Routes, Foreign Relations, Religious Affairs (Tablebreaker oversight), and others.
• Effectiveness depends entirely on personal alliances and bribes—most Viziers survive by playing sub-kingdoms against each other.

Legislative / Deliberative Branch – The Grand Council
Grand Council (A massive, unwieldy assembly)

• Composed of representatives from every major sub-kingdom, city-state, nomadic tribal confederation, and oasis stronghold.
• Key permanent members (with largest voting blocs):
  • Hispania (coastal republic; Valean-influenced, mixed population; strong navy and army, anti-cult patrols)
  • Chaac (jungle/mountain city-states; Maya-inspired; independent, ritualistic)
  • Anansi (highland tribal federation; Ethiopian analogue; warrior culture, storytelling tradition)
  • Lusitania (western coastal enclaves; Portuguese analogue; trade and casino-focused, mercantile)
  • Osiris Remnant (ancient desert heartland; Egyptian successor state; scholarly, deeply religious)
  • Nomadic Tribes (rotating delegates from major clans; survivalist, fiercely autonomous)
• Meets irregularly in Shadovar during the brief "cool season" or in emergencies.
• Powers:
  • Approves the Grand Vizier.
  • Declares war (almost never used—sub-kingdoms fight their own wars).
  • Sets trade route tolls and water-sharing agreements (the only laws consistently enforced).
  • Can depose the Sultan or Mudij in extreme cases (has happened twice in history).
  • Approves viziers who oversee various functions across Vacuo, from judges to tax collection.
• In practice: A chaotic bazaar of deal-making, threats, and walkouts. Decisions require near-unanimous consensus among major blocs, making decisive action rare.

Judicial / Religious Authority
Grand Kenbet

• The Grand Kenbet is a council of elders appointed as judges, supervised by viziers appointed by the Grand Assembly. They consist of 352 Elder Judges from across Vacuo, with 9 selected for lifetime appointments on the High Court by the Grand Vizier and Mudij/Sultan as the ultimate authority and interpreter of the laws. While they carry the authority of the Sultan/Mudij, corruption is common and rulings are often only as strong as the judges' support in the area of the ruling.
• Answers petitions from all citizens.

Tablebreaker Ecclesiarchy (Parallel power structure)

• The Tablebreaker Faith has immense influence.
• High Paladin and Council of Archpriests act as a de facto supreme court for many moral/religious crimes.
• Paladins and Warrior Nuns operate semi-independently, hunting Grimm cults, Xolotl revivalists, and raiders. They are one of the few forces that can cross sub-kingdom borders with impunity.
• Many sub-kingdoms defer to Church courts in cases involving heresy, Grimm summoning, or blood rituals rather than the often corrupt Kenbet.

Sub-Kingdoms & Regional Power
Real power rests with the sub-kingdoms and tribal confederations:

• Hispania – Most organized; elected governors, strong republican institutions, professional military. Leads anti-cult operations in former Xolotl territories. Deeply suspicious of centralized power but pragmatic in alliances.
• Chaac – Loose alliance of city-states; priest-kings rule individually. Strong warrior tradition, frequent internal wars.
• Anansi – Tribal federation; leadership rotates among great storytellers/warchiefs. Highly mobile, excellent scouts.
• Lusitania – Merchant republic; wealthy coastal cities, powerful fleets. Often mediates trade disputes.
• Osiris Remnant – Scholarly desert kingdom; controls ancient libraries and ruins. Religious conservatives.
• Nomadic Tribes – Dozens of clans; owe loyalty only when it suits them. Control vast desert routes.

Key Structural Weaknesses (Why Vacuo is "Even Worse")

• No standing national army – Each sub-kingdom/tribe maintains its own forces. Defense against major Grimm swarms relies on ad-hoc coalitions and Huntsmen.
• Water and resource control – The ultimate currency. Whoever controls oases and aquifers holds real power.
• Xolotl Legacy – Underground cults in Hispania and the northwest jungles actively work to undermine stability. Ruins attract Salem's agents and treasure hunters.
• Foreign influence – Vale and Mistral maintain cultural ties (and lingering resentment in some sub-kingdoms, while others have better relationships). Atlas has quiet trade deals (Dust for security tech) but little direct involvement. SDC exploits the chaos for cheap labor and artifact smuggling.
• Grimm attraction – Negative emotions from constant infighting draw endless hordes, forcing even rivals to cooperate temporarily.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Altas, Solitas

- - -

The Schnee manor's sub-basement archive was a tomb of secrets—rows of locked filing cabinets, holographic projectors flickering with decades of ledgers, the air cold, dry and stale. The kind of air that sucked any warmth from your body, from your soul.

Whitley Schnee—sixteen, suit impeccable despite the late hour—sat at the central terminal, fingers flying over keys as he cross-referenced financial discrepancies. Years of quiet observation, of playing the perfect son while cataloging every lie, every bribe, every disappeared worker. It had all come down to this.

Fafnir stood behind him, a silent colossus—wings folded tight, cybernetic mask reflecting the screen's glow. He'd provided the access codes, the hidden drives, the muscle to retrieve what Jacques thought buried.

They'd been at it for hours.

Whitley paused, leaning back in the chair. His voice was quiet, but it cut the silence like ice cracking.

"Why are you doing this?"

Fafnir didn't move. Red eyes fixed on the screen.

"You're risking everything. Father's kill switches—your implants—he could end you with a command. You've served him faithfully for decades. Why betray him now? For me?"

Fafnir's claw flexed once—metal on metal.

"I swore to protect this family," he said finally, voice low thunder. "Not just Jacques. The bloodline. The name."

Whitley turned in the chair, searching the dragon's scarred, masked face.

"You protected us. Stood outside our doors. Trained Winter and Weiss in secret. But you also… did things. For him."

Fafnir's gaze dropped—a rare flicker of something like shame.

"Warden Schnee," he said.

Whitley's breath caught. He'd been young—too young to understand—but the stories lingered. Uncle Warden, the outspoken advocate for miners, found dead in a "Faunus terrorist breach." He'd been told that precursors to the White Fang had done it. They'd kept killing people in the SDC, after all. What was one more?

Yet... The look in Fafnir's eyes...

"You were there," he whispered, "That night."

"I was ordered to let it happen." Fafnir's voice was flat, but the weight behind it crushed the air. "Jacques feared Warden's influence. His voice for the workers. I… arranged the breach. Ensured he died."

The confession hung like smoke.

Whitley stared, throat tight.

"You murdered him," he managed, a low whisper.

"I failed to save him," Fafnir corrected, the distinction raw. "On purpose. Warden was a proud warrior. Strong. Honorable in his way. He saw what Jacques was becoming. I respected him. And I killed him anyway."

Silence stretched, thick and suffocating.

Whitley's hands trembled in his lap. "Then why help me now? Why risk everything to expose the man you killed for? Why...?"

Fafnir stepped closer, towering but not threatening.

"Because you have his determination. Warden's fire, buried under manners and fear. You see the rot. You're willing to cut it out." He shook his head. "You live behind masks, but unlike your sisters, you made it into a weapon. I owe him too much to act directly... But you want to make things... Better. So I try to restore my honor, through your desire for justice."

Whitley's eyes burned—anger, grief, something perilously close to gratitude. He lowered his eyes to hide it.

"No one else sees that in me," he whispered. "Not Mother. Not Winter. Not Weiss. They look at me and see Father's shadow. His puppet."

Fafnir's claw rested—gentle despite the metal—on Whitley's shoulder.

"They're wrong. But you'll have to face them someday. So... prove it."

Whitley looked up, voice cracking. He got himself under control, but only just.

"Thank you. At least… at least you see me. Unlike my sisters."

Fafnir's masked face was unreadable, but his tone carried old, weary certainty.

"Strength isn't just in blades or glyphs, boy. It's in choosing when to strike. You're choosing now. That's the beginning."

He turned back to the terminal, pulling up another encrypted file.

"We have work left to do."

Whitley exhaled shakily, wiping his eyes once—quick, angry—before turning back to the screen.

- - -

Another bit with Fafnir and his relationship with the Schnees. Maybe a bit too emotional, but I wanted to get across that just as Klein was a father figure to Winter and Weiss, Fafnir too had a paternal relationship, of sorts, with Whitley.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The Hellenic League (also called the Argive League or Western Anima Confederation) is a loose confederation of independent city-states (poleis) clustered along the western coast of Anima, in what is now nominally part of Mistral but functions as a de facto autonomous region. Geographically, it occupies fertile coastal plains, hilly hinterlands, and strategic harbors, making it a major trade hub connecting Vale, Vacuo, and the rest of Anima. Culturally, it blends ancient Hellenic traditions (philosophy, theater, athletics, democratic/oligarchic governance experiments) with heavy Mistralian influences (elegant calligraphy, silk-like textiles, Confucian-style bureaucracy in administration, and dragon motifs in art/architecture from the era of Iksander's conquests).



Historical Background

The League traces its origins to the pre-Tablebreaker era, when the Hellenic poleis were unified under Iksander the Great (the Alexander analogue, a legendary conqueror and distant ancestor of Pyrrha Nikos). Iksander's empire exploded outward from the western coast, conquering much of Anima (including Mistral proper), northern Vale, parts of Vacuo, and even reaching into distant Pandu, Rostram, and Taejo. His campaigns spread Hellenic language, art, philosophy, and military tactics (phalanx formations, hoplite warfare) across continents, while absorbing eastern elements that gave rise to the Greco-Mistralian fusion seen in modern Argus (e.g., columned temples with pagoda roofs, Olympic-style games alongside Mistralian festivals).



After Iksander's death, the empire fragmented rapidly. The western poleis reformed as the Hellenic League to preserve their independence and cultural identity. Later, the Quintalan Empire conquered much of western Anima, imposing centralized administration, roads, aqueducts, and legal codes while allowing local governance and Hellenic customs to persist. The Quintalan collapse left the League semi-independent again, nominally under Mistral but effectively self-ruling due to Mistral's chronic disunity. Over the next several centuries Mistral would at times rule over the Hellenes, then lose their grip while other powers rose and fell. They were briefly ruled over by the tyrannical Witch Queen of Argus, but this dictator was slain in single combat by the legendary Jeanne D'Arc of Radian, who went home and left the poleis to rebuild themselves. The Eastern Sanusian nations that would eventually form Vale competed to rule the poleis for centuries while colonizing and building empires across Remnant, but still the Hellenes would hold onto their cultural identity.



In the modern era (post-Great War), the League maintains nominal allegiance to Mistral (sending tribute delegates to the capital, acknowledging the loose confederation) but operates with near-total autonomy. It hosts an Atlas military base in Argus, enjoys strong trade ties with Vale and a military base in Asterius, and trades with Vacuo, Pandu, Fuujin, Taejo, Rostram and Menagerie. This independence rankles Mistral hardliners (especially Yellow Dragon expansionists), but the League's naval strength and Atlas/Valean backing deter direct interference.



Religiously, the League converted en masse to the Tablebreaker faith centuries ago. Ancient Olympian worship mostly survives only in folklore, festivals, art, literature and music—temples are for the most part now repurposed as churches or museums, though there are some followers of it still.



Major City-States

The League comprises dozens of poleis, but seven form the core council (the "Seven Eyes," nodding to Argus Panoptes). Each is named for a Hellenic monster/mythical figure, reflecting ancient founding myths where heroes tamed or descended from such beings.



Argus (largest, de facto capital; Athens analogue with Argos heritage) Patron heritage: Argus Panoptes (the all-seeing giant).
Modern role: Intellectual/cultural center; philosophy academies, theaters, bustling markets, universities and strong tech base. Strong democratic traditions (assembly votes on major policy). Hosts the League's Pan-Hellenic Games every four years. Allows Atlas base; Pyrrha Nikos's ancestral home. Fiercely proud, views itself as cultural superior to "barbarian" Mistral. Powerful navy.
Asterius (Sparta analogue) Patron heritage: Asterius the Minotaur (labyrinthine strength).
Modern role: Militaristic powerhouse; rigorous agoge-style training for youth, elite hoplite/phalanx units. Semi-democratic but primarily oligarchic rule by warrior council. Rival to Argus (historical wars over border lands); emphasizes discipline over philosophy. Has a Valean military base. Excellent infantry and special forces and world class military academy.
Chiron (Corinth analogue) Patron heritage: Chiron the wise centaur.
Modern role: Commercial/trade hub; strategic isthmus-like ports, shipbuilding, finance. Balanced democratic oligarchy with merchant-prince families. Hosts smaller Isthmian-style games focused on water sports. Massive fishing industries.
Medusa (Thebes analogue) Patron heritage: Medusa the Gorgon (petrifying gaze as metaphor for unyielding defense).
Modern role: Fortified inland stronghold; strong walls, Boeotian League-style federation of nearby towns. History of siding with invaders, leading to lingering distrust from other poleis. Has excellent relations with Vacuo, Fuujin, and others-Has many casinos and centers of financial trade.
Polyphemus (Macedon analogue) Patron heritage: Polyphemus the Cyclops (raw strength, one-eyed vision as strategic foresight).
Modern role: Northern/mountainous region; heavy Dust and other mining operations, mechanized and other cavalry-heavy armies, expansionist history. Constitutional monarchy; supplies heavy infantry and military machinery to League defense and hosts many PMCs and tech companies, especially military oriented.
Typhon (Delphi analogue) Patron heritage: Typhon the storm giant.
Modern role: Oracle/shrine center; Tablebreaker monastery on volcanic slopes, but also the old Olympian Oracle temple where visions of the future can be read to the believers. Hosts Pythian-style games with musical/poetic contests alongside athletics. Artistic and scholarly, with music and dance academies and a focus on the humanities as well as religious and literary archives. Also features a Huntsman Academy; trains Huntsmen with emphasis on beast-slaying lore. Produces many elite warriors and support personnel for Hunters Association, PMCs, and militaries. Neutral arbiter in League disputes.
Echidna (Samos analogue) Patron heritage: Echidna the Mother of Monsters (serpent-woman, progenitor of beasts; reframed as primordial earth/sea mother or guardian spirit whose "offspring" were tamed by heroes).
Modern role: Island polis off the western coast; major maritime/trade power with fertile plains and strategic harbors. Famous for its grand Heraion sanctuary (repurposed as a Tablebreaker cathedral blending Hera iconography with serpent-mother motifs—e.g., sacred willow/serpent motifs in art). Engineering and philosophical schools. Balanced oligarchy with merchant and priestly families. Leans more towards Vacuo due to ancient relations in the past but tries to stay fairly neutral.


Smaller poleis include Chimera, Hydra, Scylla/Charybdis, Harpy, and many others, each with unique local customs but subordinate to the Seven in League matters.



Government & Society

Loose confederation: Annual council in Argus (rotating presidency). Each polis sends delegates; decisions require supermajority. Common defense, trade pacts, Games organization.
Internal rivalries: Fierce (Argus vs. Asterius debates, Medusa's old "traitor" stigma). Ostracism/exile for overly ambitious leaders or traitors rather than execution-Making them brave the wilds and Grimm alone is seen as a suitable punishment.
Pan-Hellenic Games: Major unifying event (every 4 years in Argus; cycle includes regional variants in Chiron/Typhon). Events: foot races, pentathlon (wrestling, long jump, javelin, discus, stadion), combat sports (boxing, pankration—no biting/gouging), chariot and horse racing. Winners get wreaths (olive in Argus, laurel in Typhon, etc.); multiple victories earn statues. Pyrrha's wins boosted her fame/prestige across the League alongside her wins in more traditional combat leagues.
Modern character: Culturally arrogant (Hellenic superiority complex vs. "barbarians" who aped their philosophy and culture), but pragmatic (trade with Vale/Vacuo, Atlas and Vale bases for security). Corrupt politics, but strong civic pride and checks.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Jaune holds a town hall for the Vytal Festival.

It does about as well as you might expect.

Chapter Text
The backstage of Vale's Government Tower town hall was filled with nervous energy, as the faint buzz from the packed theater drifted through the curtains. The air was thick with the scent of Yang Xiao Long's citrusy perfume and the faint tang of stage lights warming up. Jaune Arc, reluctant councilman and festival planner, stood in a cluttered dressing area, his blonde hair slicked back as Yang dabbed makeup on his face with a practiced hand. His blue eyes darted nervously, lips muttering a mantra to steady himself.

"Okay… Okay… I'm going to do okay… I'm going to do okay…" Jaune breathed, gripping the edge of a folding chair.

Pyrrha Nikos, radiant in her bronze armor, leaned forward with a warm smile. "You'll be fine!"

Weiss Schnee, clipboard in hand, adjusted her pristine white jacket. "Just follow the notes. That said, I still can't believe you were put in charge of planning the Vytal Festival!"

"He's not in charge, he's just the key Committee Member," Blake observed, barely looking up from her Scroll.

"I memorized the notes," Jaune said, voice steadier now. He glanced around, brow furrowing. "Who's on snack table duty?"

Nora Valkyrie bounced on her heels, hammer slung over her shoulder. "I am!"

Ren, ever calm beside her, deadpanned, "There is no more snack table."

Yang paused, makeup brush hovering. "Wait, I thought Ruby said she was doing it."

"That's why there's no more snack table!" Nora chirped, unapologetic.

Jaune's face paled. "Oh God…"

"Nora reassigned Ruby to security!" Nora added, grinning.

Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose. "Ren? Please calm him down?"

"I've got this," Yang declared, yanking Jaune's face into her chest with a playful smirk.

"MMPH?!" Jaune flailed, voice muffled against her sweater.

"It's scientifically proven that men calm down when they touch boobs! Especially big ones!" Yang teased, winking at Pyrrha.

Pyrrha's cheeks flared red. "W-Well, I can do that just as well!" She pulled Jaune into her chest, armor clinking.

"MMPH!" Jaune's arms waved desperately.

"Not as well as I can!" Yang tugged him back, grinning.

Weiss groaned, tossing her ponytail. "Always about boobs with you people…"

Blake Belladonna, lounging nearby with a book, smirked without looking up. "You're jealous."

"OF COURSE I'M JEALOUS!" Weiss snapped, then froze, mortified.

Blake's amber eyes glinted. "The first step is admitting it."

Weiss's face burned as Jaune, still caught in the tug-of-war, waved his arms like a drowning man. Nora tilted her head. "I think he's choking!"

Weiss muttered, "Wouldn't happen with me."

Sun Wukong burst in, shirt predictably unbuttoned, tail flicking. "GUYS! We're all set!"

Jaune gasped for air as Yang and Pyrrha released him. "Bwah…! Sun?"

"Hey! Blake asked me to help, and I thought, cool! Let's do government things!" Sun grinned.

"Yes, government things," Blake added with a nod.

"Oh… Thank you," Jaune said, catching his breath.

Weiss eyed Sun's open shirt. "Still not buttoning up, I see."

"Nope!" Sun said, unabashed. "Blake says it's for the female voters!"

"Well… Thank you, Blake," Jaune said, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll go introduce you with Ruby!" Sun said, bounding toward the stage.

"Oh, well, thanks…" Jaune muttered, straightening his tie.

Out at the microphone, the crowd's murmur filled the hall, a mix of curious citizens and opportunistic reporters. Sun grabbed the mic with flair as Ruby flanked him.

"Introducing… a really nice guy who loaned me sooo many pencils! You have no idea how many pencils, he was loaded with pencils!"

Ruby, in her red cloak, added: "Also, he can recite all the lyrics of Super Hyper Dimensional Fortress Evangelion! In Fuujin! It was amazing!"

"Councilman Jaune Arc!" Sun finished, throwing an arm out.

Jaune emerged to scattered applause, stepping into the spotlight as his friends took seats or stood nearby. He adjusted the mic, voice steady despite the sweat on his brow. "Thank you, guys. So, this town hall is to address your questions about the Vytal Festival. So, feel free to start asking!"

A Faunus with sharp dog ears stood, voice sharp. "Why are you giving the SDC a platform?! Even after all the allegations against their mistreatment of Faunus!"

Jaune nodded, unfazed, as Weiss and Blake nodded approvingly. "We're also giving Menagerie a platform, despite the fact that many Faunus from there support the White Fang's terrorist activities. It's my hope we can foster a dialogue between Faunus and humans who aren't at the extremes of the conflict, and help improve things. This is just after Menagerie made official diplomatic ties with Vale, despite the White Fang's attack on the Queen Star of Eridu airship liner last year. Vale is trying to act as a mediator in this ongoing conflict, so we must be as neutral as possible. Next question?"

Weiss and Blake spared him a small smile each. It made him feel confident as the Faunus sat down, looking satisfied.

A female voice rang out, bold and teasing. "How long is your dick?"

Jaune's face flushed. "Next question!"

A higher voice squeaked, "COCO!"

Coco Adel, sunglasses glinting, grinned from the crowd. "Shush, Velv! You were gonna ask it later!"

Velvet Scarlatina, ears drooping with bright red cheeks, muttered, "I literally wasn't, stop projecting…"

Russel Thrush shot up, mohawk quivering. "Yeah! Why are Hunters-in-training banned from alcohol until we're 21 like the rest of these losers?! We should be allowed to get hammered too!"

"That's… not related to Vytal," Jaune said, blinking.

"It's bullshit!" Russel snapped. "You grew up drinking wine since you were five!"

"That's because the laws are different in Gallia, not Vale Proper," Jaune explained.

"Then change them!" Russel demanded.

"Next question!" Jaune said quickly. Russel looked like he was about to say more, but Cardin Winchester glared death at him and he pouted in silence.

A man stood, voice tight. "Excuse me, Mr. Arc. This isn't a question as much as a complaint… but I live on property near where Vytal will take place, and your orange-haired teammate destroyed some of the trees I was growing. I just wanted to say… The hell, man?! They weren't even in the way!"

All eyes turned to Nora, who shrank slightly. "…Whoops."

Jaune sighed. "Ah, yes… Nora got a little carried away, but the city insurance policy will pay you back for that. And Nora will be more careful in the future."

Nora waved sheepishly. "SORRY!"

Lisa Lavender, ever the vulture, stood with her microphone. "Mr. Arc, how big is your harem, and which girl will have your child first?"

"No comment, next question!" Jaune said, voice firm.

A new voice cut through—A blonde and brash young lady in leather with goggles, pigtails, and large… Assets.

"Hey! I'm Burnice White! I'm from New Eridu!"

"Oh, uh, welcome to Vale?" Jaune said, confused.

"Thanks! So! When are we declaring war on New Eridu?" Burnice asked, grinning.

"I don't have that—What?" Jaune stammered.

Seth, a wiry Mistralian, shot up. "You can't declare war on New Eridu! It's part of Mistral!"

"So declare war on Mistral!" Burnice countered.

"Why?" Seth asked.

"They took away my liquor license!" Burnice huffed.

Jaune pinched his nose. "That's something we settle in civil court, not via warfare."

Another man stood, face red. "Hey, Arc! Your sister photoshopped my face onto a Grimm and sent it to my girlfriend! Fuck you! I can't say that to her because she's a kid, but… fuck you, dude!"

The crowd stared, dumbfounded. Jaune blinked. "I'm… sorry, I guess? I'll talk to her after?"

"Ladies and gentlemen," Pyrrha said, raising her hands, "we're here about the Vytal Festival. We should keep our focus on that, right?"

Lisa Lavender struck again. "Mr. Arc, is it true what Jacques Schnee tweeted not five minutes ago? That you're marrying his daughter? What happened to staying neutral?"

Jaune shook his head. "I'm not marrying Weiss Schnee. I don't know what Jacques said, but I'm not. Weiss can confirm that right now."

Weiss muttered, "…Damn it…" Flustered, she stood. "I-I mean… this is false! I would never marry this… perverted creep!"

She turned to Jaune, whispering, "I'm so sorry, I panicked!"

Cameras flashed like a lightning storm.

Jaune raised an eyebrow. "Then fix it while panicking?"

Weiss stammered, "I-I mean, he's not a pervert, he's an… okay guy? I guess?"

Lisa Lavender pounced. "Ms. Schnee, are you backtracking out of fear of repercussions from Councilman Arc? And Mr. Arc, what are your favorite kinks?"

"OKAY!" Jaune barked. "Anyone with questions about the Vytal Festival, in here! If you don't, please leave. Don't care where you go, but you can't stay here."

Half the crowd shuffled out, muttering. A lone guy stood. "Is there gonna be a waterslide this year?"

"Yes! There will be a waterslide!" Jaune said, relieved.

Lisa, undeterred, pressed, "Miss Schnee, is it true Councilman Arc is blackmailing you for sex?"

"Nobody is blackmailing anyone for sex!" Jaune snapped.

A woman in the crowd snorted. "True, who would need to be blackmailed into sex with him? I bet Schnee is gay. Who could turn that down?"

"She's not gay!" Ruby shouted. "She's got too bad of taste to be gay!"

"Shut up Ruby!" Weiss growled.

An older man stood, voice stern. "I have one. Mr. Arc, you're a first-year at Beacon Academy, miraculously given a position of power you are, without a doubt, completely unprepared for. You surround yourself with companions who cause nothing but chaos and destruction, unapologetically, mind you. Now you're given creative control over this very important tradition to honor all academies and lands together, and you all seem to be treating this like a joke. Is this a joke to you, Mr. Arc? Are you and your friends, who, mind you, have no official status in the government, going to treat this like a joke?"

Yang winced. "He… has a point…"

Ruby puffed out her cheeks. "We help!"

Blake muttered, "Do we?"

Jaune straightened, voice firm. "No, sir, I take this very seriously. My great-grandmother was Queen Arturia Pendragon, and she encouraged me to give this my all. I'm going to do this job to the best of my ability and make sure the Festival is a success. And while my friends are… chaotic, they do help and support me and do a lot of great stuff behind the scenes. They do, in fact, have official positions in the government as my staff—part-time due to their studies. The fact they do as much for me as they can is a testament to how much I trust them."

The old man nodded, satisfied. "I'm glad to hear it." He paused. "Also, tell the girl who ate all the cookies from the snack table earlier… my wife and I run a bakery, and we'd be more than happy to provide cookies for her… weapons presentation she was muttering about earlier."

A Valean man stood, voice sharp. "Excuse me, Mr. Arc, as a Valean patriot to a Valean patriot, don't you find it strange that Atlesians are in charge of security? What is the VDF doing? What is the National Security Bureau doing? And are you sure holding the Festival amidst these turbulent times is a good idea?"

Jaune nodded. "I agree it's strange, but the Council voted. I voted against it. The argument was that the VDF hasn't recovered sufficiently, even with the new budget to rearm, to do the job, and with the Breach, the security arrangements were inadequate. If we stop the Festival, we allow the terrorists who did the Breach to dictate our policy. We will not give in to fear."

Another voice piped up, sly. "Question from Spook Shack. Is it true every generation of Arcs has a harem?"

"No. That is not true," Jaune said, deadpan.

Lisa Lavender stood again. "Mr. Arc, an actual question this time."

Jaune's tone went flat. "That would be a first."

Lisa plowed on ahead, ignoring this.

"Do you think Ironwood is overstepping his jurisdiction by pushing for Atlesian security? Is the general too eager to assert himself into something he doesn't belong in?"

Jaune sucked in a breath.

"While I disagreed with turning over the entire security of the Festival to Atlas, I agree the VDF may not be ready to handle things on their own. I'm pushing for a joint security arrangement. I can't comment on the General's state of mind, as I'm not a mind reader."

Lisa pressed, "Would it be possible to acquire his opinion on the matter? Or hold a press conference with him?"

"You'd have to ask him," Jaune said.

Lisa continued, "Follow-up: Atlas and the SDC are almost one and the same to the public eye and their infrastructure. It wouldn't be unfair to assume the SDC can interfere with Atlas's security. Yet, when Menagerie offered assistance to deal with any White Fang threat, both Vale and Atlas declined. Can you guarantee the SDC didn't have a hand in keeping Menagerie's influence away, and that the SDC won't gain an unfair advantage through their Atlas connection?"

"You're the reporter; why don't you handle that?" Jaune said, deflecting. "Lisa, this is about the Festival. That's not my department. I just plan the Festival and set things up."

Lisa smirked. "So I'll put you down for no comment?"

"Yes," Jaune said, firm.

"Thank you very much," Lisa said, sitting.

Pyrrha leaned in, whispering to Jaune, "To be fair, you're one of the few government officials to answer questions straightforwardly, so it's not surprising they come to you with them."

Jaune muttered, "Right…"

Weiss groaned, and Blake, in a rare show of solidarity, patted her shoulder. "I hate my father…"

"We both do," Blake said comfortingly.

A man stood, waving at Lisa. "Can you make it a law for Lisa Lavender to do her newscasts in a bikini again? For the Festival?"

Lisa sputtered, "Excuse me?!"

"You did it once; it was amazing," the man said, grinning.

An older man raised both hands. "I second and third and fourth that, heheh!"

Blake stood, voice sharp. "Your attention, please! Can we get back on track with the Festival?"

The older man nodded. "Right, right… Will there be booth babes?"

"That's up to the preference of the vendors," Jaune said.

"WOOHOO!" the old man cheered.

"You're still not allowed to grope them unless they consent," Jaune added.

"Phooey!" the man grumbled, as a cop nearby gave an I'm watching you gesture.

"I know your porn history, Larry!" the old man shot back.

A girl stood, voice sultry. "Mr. Arc, do you need a date to the Vytal Festival? Because I'm single and willing! I'll also be ovulating at that time, just FYI!"

Jaune's face reddened. "I'm very flattered, but I'll have to decline. Sorry."

"What? Am I not good enough for you?!" the girl shrieked.

Yang leaned in with a grin.

"No! You aren't! I'm his girlfriend!" She shouted. The girl, undeterred, began to reach for her waist.

"I got your face tattooed on my tits! I'LL SHOW YOU!"

Security dogpiled her before she could lift her shirt, dragging her out. Jaune cleared his throat, voice strained. "Well… that's all the time we have for today. Thank you all. See you at the Festival!"

He stumbled backstage, beelining for the dressing room. Pressing his face into the wall, he groaned, voice muffled against the plaster.

Nora bounced in, grinning. "I think that went well!"

Jaune groaned louder.

Weiss, following, snapped, "Of course you would."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Taiyang faces his greatest challenge after Summer left and he got his head back on straight... His girls growing up. Fortunately he has a friend to help him out.

One-Shot, No Romance, Family.

Work Text:
Taiyang Xiao-Long faced the greatest challenge he'd ever been confronted with. Fighting the Queen of the Grimm, losing the love of his life (twice), all of that seemed to pale in comparison to the challenge before him.

Both of his girls-Both of them! They needed him. He had failed once before, but now? He had no more chances. He had to figure this out… He had to be there for them. He couldn't fail. He couldn't!

The Patch General Store was a cramped, fluorescent-lit maze of shelves, its air heavy with the scent of canned goods and cleaning supplies.

Taiyang Xiao Long stood frozen in the feminine products aisle, his broad shoulders hunched, his blond hair disheveled, and his blue eyes wide with a haunted look. His hands hovered over a dizzying array of pads and tampons.

He muttered "Which do I… what do I…?" His frantic whispers were barely audible over the store's tinny radio playing bad covers of ancient top twenty hits.

"Oh! Hello, Tai. Are you all right?" A gentle voice cut through his panic.

Taiyang's head snapped up, relief flooding his face as he spotted a smiling woman, her warm brown eyes crinkling behind round glasses, her greying auburn hair tucked under her Tablebreaker habit. Her small frame radiated calm, her hands clasped over a basket of groceries.

Taiyang twitched and reached out a hand towards her, desperation etched into his face.

"Sister Lucy… please… I need some help."

"With…?"

Lucy's gaze flicked to the shelves, understanding dawning. She looked up, her lips twitching.

"Oh… ohhh. Yang?"

Taiyang's expression grew more haunted, "And Ruby… they both started. At the same time."

Lucy chuckled, her laughter soft but grounding.

"It's all right, Tai. I'll help you."

Taiyang's knees wobbled as relief flooded his entire body.

"Thank you," Taiyang breathed, his shoulders sagging.

"I'll even explain the whole thing to them both," Lucy added, plucking a few packages from the shelf with practiced ease, "Since I've been helping them at Sunday School with other… Womanly concerns."

"Ohhh, thank you, thank you, thank God!" Taiyang groaned, his hands clasping around hers in prayer. Lucy chuckled.

"Easy, easy!" Lucy said, her tone teasing but kind. "Everything is going to be just fine, I promise."

"Thanks," Taiyang said, rubbing his neck. "Qrow and I were at a loss."

Lucy's eyebrow arched, her voice playful.

"What, was he going to hire a hooker to explain it to them?"

Taiyang froze, his eyes darting away.

"…Uh… n-no! Of course not! But, uh, let's get home as quickly as possible, just—just to get things going, right?"

Lucy's smile turned knowing, her tone dry.

"…Qrow said he was going to hire a hooker, didn't he?"

"He didn't say that!" Taiyang protested, his face reddening.

"More just that he strongly implied it?"

"... Maybe."

Lucy sighed, grabbing a final product and looping her arm through Taiyang's, her basket swinging.

"Let's get to your house before your girls are scarred for life, huh? Any more than they already are?"

"Good idea," Taiyang muttered, his voice thick with gratitude as they headed to the checkout.

- - -

They managed to get all the way back to the Xiao Long cabin. The living room was a cozy chaos of scattered mechanical devices and half-finished homework, the scent of pine mingling with the faint tang of pancakes and eggs from breakfast.

Yang, twelve and already fierce, sat cross-armed on the couch, her lilac eyes narrowed in embarrassment, while Ruby, ten and wide-eyed, clutched a stuffed Grimm plushie, her silver eyes darting nervously.

Lucy sat between them, her habit smoothed out, her voice calm and warm as she explained things with the same gentle clarity she used for Sunday sermons at Patch's Tablebreaker chapel.

"It's all natural, girls," Lucy said, holding up a diagram she'd sketched on a napkin, her smile reassuring. "Your bodies are growing, and that's a gift, even if it feels strange now. You're becoming strong women, like your mom and Summer were."

Yang's scowl softened at the mention of Raven, her voice small.

"Mom… didn't stick around for this stuff."

Lucy's hand rested on Yang's shoulder, her touch steady.

"She made her choices, Yang, but you're not her. You're you—brave, loyal, and fierce. And you've got Tai, Qrow, and me to help you through."

Ruby's voice was a whisper, her eyes glistening.

"Mom would've known what to say…"

"She would've," Lucy agreed, her voice soft but firm, pulling Ruby into a gentle hug. "But she'd be proud of you, Ruby, for facing this with your big heart. I'm here to help you both, just like she'd want."

Taiyang hovered in the doorway, his eyes misty as he watched Lucy work her quiet magic, easing his daughters' fears with stories of her own awkward youth and practical tips wrapped in humor. Their tension slowly faded, replaced with little laughs and warm smiles.

Taiyang had not been to church since Summer's death. He'd kept sending Ruby and Yang there, because that was what Summer wanted for them. His own beliefs… He wasn't sure he could believe in a God that could love someone like him, a miserable failure.

Yet… Sister Lucy took time out of her day to help them all out. At no profit to herself. He smiled softly, the weight on his heart lifting a little.

"Now! You two go to the bathroom," Lucy said with a smile. "If you need any help, just ask, but I know you two can handle this like the young ladies you are. And after? We'll go out for ice cream. My treat!"

"And cookies?" Ruby asked. Lucy nodded. Ruby squealed. "YEAH!"

Ruby shot off to the bathroom. Yang followed. She huffed.

"I-I would have figured it out," she said. Lucy nodded.

"I know, but everyone needs help once in a while," she said. Yang smiled gratefully, and turned to head off after her little sister. Taiyang came into the living room, and handed Lucy a cup of tea.

"Thank you," he said, "For everything."

Sister Lucy beamed back.

"It's what I'm here for."

Taiyang sighed heavily.

"I should've called you first."

"You should've," Lucy shot back, her tone teasing but pointed, "instead of joking about hookers."

Taiyang chuckled nervously.

"Oh… Yeah… Joking! That's me…"

Qrow walked in with a big smile.

"Hey kids! I've got someone to tell you all about-Oh. Hey Sister Lucy," Qrow trailed off.

A truly voluptuous black cat Faunus woman entered, her ears twitching happily.. She wore a very revealing white dress with a gold collar and expensive sunglasses. Sunglasses she pulled off dramatically with a big smile.

"Qrow baby, where are your nieces? I'm all ready to go-Oh! Hey Lucy!"

Sister Lucy sighed and waved at the Faunus woman.

"Hey Fuschia. How's it going?" She asked with a friendly smile. "Thank you for the donation to the church fund last Sunday, it was very much appreciated."

Fuschia beamed.

"It was nothing! You've been so kind to me since I moved here! So, where are Qrow-baby's little nieces? I can't wait to teach them about taking care of their-!"

"How about we all just go out for ice cream, huh?" Taiyang said quickly. "I-I mean, before we get into the…" His inner manhood shuddered, "Nitty-gritty?"

Fuschia looked him up and down, and winked.

"Anything for you, baby. I love a responsible man. I'll get the car ready!"

She turned and headed out the door.

Sister Lucy slowly turned and stared at the cringing Taiyang and Qrow.

"I mean… Technically she's not a hooker?" Taiyang said weakly.

"Please! I don't do that… Anymore," the Faunus woman called back through the door. "Now I do movies!"

"See? She does movies," Qrow grinned weakly.

"So I've heard," Lucy deadpanned.

In the end, they went out for ice cream and cookies, Taiyang got Fuschia's number on a card with a lipstick mark on it, Sister Lucy and Qrow won big at the arcade, and Yang and Ruby learned a lot more about women's health than they perhaps wanted to know. But instead of fear, they had confidence, and in the end, that's what the people who loved them wanted them to have more than anything else.

That and common sense, but that's another story.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Jaune pushed open the door to the JNPR dorm with Mia riding high on his shoulders, her little hands tangled in his hair like she was steering a very blond airship.

"So, sweetie," he asked, grinning up at her, "what was the best part of daycare today?"

Mia leaned forward, ears perked, eyes shining. "That the Starlight Rangers are awesome heroes who beat up Grimm monsters with sparkly laser guns and friendship!"

Jaune laughed, the sound warm and easy. "Haha! They absolutely are. Best heroes ever."

She patted his head proudly. "I'm gonna be the Pink Ranger when I grow up!"

"You'll be the best Pink Ranger Remnant's ever seen," he promised, stepping into the common room.

And froze.

The place looked like a minor war zone. Smoke still curled lazily from the kitchenette, the fire alarm was giving one last pathetic beep, and three very professional firefighters were packing up their gear while Professor Goodwitch stood in the middle of it all, telekinetically rearranging scorched pots and pans back into some semblance of order.

Weiss and Pyrrha—both wearing slightly singed aprons—spun around at the sound of the door, faces lighting up like they'd been waiting all day.

"Jaune! You're back!" Weiss said, a little too brightly, brushing flour off her sleeve.

Pyrrha's smile was softer, relieved. "It's so great to see you."

Nora, perched on the couch, threw her hands up. "I tried to stop them, Jaune-Jaune! I swear!"

Ren, calmly sipping tea beside her, didn't even look up. "Unsuccessfully."

Nora scowled at him.

Jaune carefully lifted Mia down, setting her on the floor where she immediately toddled toward the least smoky corner to investigate. "What… happened?"

Pyrrha fidgeted with her apron strings. "Um… w-well, we… wanted to try making dinner for a change."

Weiss lifted her chin, defiant. "You always do most of the cooking! Well, you and Xiao-Long."

Jaune nodded, still dazed. "Oh yeah. Yang does a good job. Her spicy noodles are great! Mia loves them!"

Weiss and Pyrrha both bristled in perfect unison, a tiny storm cloud of competitive energy crackling between them.

Pyrrha cleared her throat. "So we thought we'd make you—I mean, all of us—a nice, simple dinner."

Weiss gestured grandly toward the kitchen. "Steak and potatoes with a side salad. Elegant, nutritious, perfectly balanced."

Pyrrha nodded enthusiastically. "Beef noodles with pork buns! Hearty, comforting, traditional!"

The room went very quiet.

Weiss turned slowly. "…Wait. That's what you were trying to make?!"

Pyrrha's cheeks went scarlet. "I-I thought I was following your lead!"

Jaune exhaled, long and slow, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's all right, both of you. Nobody's hurt, and—" He glanced over at the kitchenette, where Glynda was waving her riding crop like a conductor's baton, scorched cabinets slotting neatly back into place. "—look! Professor Goodwitch is fixing everything up."

The firefighters tipped their helmets respectfully and filed out, one of them muttering something about "student experiments" under his breath.

Glynda finished with a final flick of her wrist, the last wisp of smoke vanishing into nothing. She turned, expression as stern as ever, but her eyes softened the moment they landed on Mia, who had wandered over and was now staring up at her with unabashed awe.

"Miss Schnee. Miss Nikos." Glynda's voice could have frozen a Grimm. "No more cooking except under strict supervision."

Weiss and Pyrrha both snapped to attention. "Yes, ma'am."

Glynda's gaze shifted to Jaune. "Mister Arc. I will be joining you for dinner tonight."

Jaune straightened automatically. "Yes, ma'am."

She paused, then added, almost gently, "And I'm holding Mia in my lap."

Jaune's smile was instant and genuine. "Of course, ma'am. No problem at all."

Mia, who had been listening with great interest, tugged on Glynda's skirt. "Do you like Starlight Rangers too?"

Glynda's stern facade cracked—just a little—as she reached down and lifted the little girl into her arms. "I've been known to appreciate a well-coordinated team."

Mia beamed and promptly began explaining the entire season finale plot, complete with hand gestures. Glynda smiled softly and nodded along.

Jaune exhaled.

Well, it's a small price to pay to avoid expulsion...

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Saint Reepicheep's Second Epistle to the Temujns

Chapter 1

1 Reepicheep, a mouse knighted by the Table Breaker's own grace, once quick to draw sword in wrathful pride yet redeemed by his mercy, to the fierce Temujns of the endless deserts, whose blood runs hot as the midday sun and whose blades flash swift in anger:

2 Grace and temperance to you from the Divine Spark, who tempers the storm into still waters and teaches the warrior to sheath the sword before it masters him.

3 Beloved Temujns, I write as one who knows the fire of rage in his small breast. Many times my tail has twitched and my whiskers bristled at insult, and I have leaped into duel with fury blazing. Yet the Table Breaker, in his gentle roar, has taught me—and now I teach you—that anger is a blade with two edges: one may cut evil cleanly, the other may wound the wielder's own soul. As Queen Susan warned the Jotuns, "But now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander" (Susan to the Jotuns 3:8), yet not all anger is to be cast aside, for some is kindled by the Spark himself.

4 There is just anger, O warriors of the dunes, and there is unjust. Just anger rises not from wounded pride or thirst for vengeance, but from zeal for righteousness—like the Table Breaker's indignation when he drove the sacrificers from the Temple of the Broken Table, overturning their altars of greed with holy fire (Chronicles of the Disciples 7:12-13). It burns against cruelty to the weak, blasphemy against the Divine Spark, or the tyranny that chains souls anew to the fragments of the old Stone. Such anger is natural and even pleasing to the Lord, for it mirrors his own sorrow over sin. As High King Peter exhorted the Mistralians, "Be watchful; your adversary prowls like a roaring Grimm, but resist him with the zeal of justice, not the venom of hatred" (Peter to the Mistralians 4:8-9).

5 Unjust anger, however, springs from the flesh: the insult taken too deeply, the slight avenged without measure, the grudge nursed like a hidden dagger. This is the wrath that turns brother against brother, tribe against tribe, and invites destruction. It is the anger that broods into hatred, and hatred is the seed from which sin blossoms into death. The Table Breaker taught in his Sermon by the Sea: "Everyone who is angry with his brother without cause will be liable to judgment; and whoever harbors rage in his heart has already slain in secret" (Sermon 4:22).

6 Feeling righteous anger is natural, Temujns—it stirs in us as the wind stirs the sands—for we are made in the image of the Divine, who grieves over evil. Yet we must not let it turn into hatred and sin. Be slow to anger, as King Edmund counseled the Quitalans: "Let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger; for the anger of man does not produce the righteousness of the Divine" (Edmund to the Quitalans 1:19-20). Temperance and self-control are the reins upon this steed; without them, anger runs wild and tramples the rider.

Chapter 2

1 Consider the Creatures of Grimm, those black voids that haunt our lands. They are drawn not to flesh or blood, but to negativity—to wrath unchecked, to grudges festering, to hatred burning in the heart. When a warrior lets just anger sour into unjust rage, he becomes a beacon for the shadows: his fury feeds them, thickens their hordes, and hastens his own destruction. I have seen it upon the seas and in the wilds: camps torn asunder not by Grimm alone, but by the venom within men's souls that summoned them. To harbor wrath is to become like the Grimm themselves—soulless destroyers, seeking out evil and negativity, blind to mercy, devouring all in their path, including themselves.

2 Yet the Table Breaker offers another way: "Be angry, and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your wrath, nor give place to the shadows" (Sermon 4:26). Forgive swiftly, even your enemy upon the sands. Seek reconciliation before the blade. Let temperance rule your heart, that your anger may serve justice and then depart, leaving room for the peace that Aura kindles. For the warrior who masters himself masters battles unseen, and his soul remains bright, repelling the Grimm where hatred would invite them.

3 Therefore, Temujns, train not only your arms but your spirits. Let righteous anger spur you to defend the innocent, but sheath it in self-control before it draws blood unjustly. Hate sin, but love the sinner, offering even the raider a path to redemption. Thus shall your honor endure, your tribes prosper, and the deserts bloom with the hope of the paradise of growth.

4 May the Divine Spark grant you the valor of temperance and the peace that surpasses the fury of battle.

5 To him who broke the Table and calms every storm, be glory forever. Amen.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

• Name: Sister Lucy Hart
• Allusion: Chūjō-hime from Japanese folklore (the devout princess who became a nun and wove a miraculous lotus-thread tapestry through divine intervention), Sister Eda from Black Lagoon (a profane, chain-smoking, gun-toting "nun" with a hidden heart of gold and zero tolerance for nonsense)
• Naming Process: The religious title "Sister" reflects her vocation in the Tablebreaker Church, a Remnant faith emphasizing righteous upheaval against corruption (inspired by ancient tales of overturning tables in sacred spaces). "Lucy" derives from Latin "lux," meaning "light," symbolizing her role as a gentle illuminator of truth and comfort in dark times and after Lucy Pevensie from The Chronicles of Narnia. The surname Hart evokes the Old English for "stag"—a creature of grace, strength, and quiet vigilance—mirroring her steady guidance through life's trials.
• Age: 40s
• Background: A lifelong resident of Patch, Sister Lucy Hart joined the Tablebreaker Church in her youth after a personal crisis of faith-Before then, she was involved in the criminal underworld (though the details are scarce and she doesn't give much away). She was drawn to its teachings of peace, love, breaking chains of injustice and rebuilding community. She became the beloved Sunday School teacher at Patch's New Spring Chapel, where she nurtured generations of children—including Ruby Rose and Yang Xiao Long—during Taiyang Xiao Long's deepest grief following Summer's death. While Taiyang withdrew into depression, Lucy ensured the girls attended services not just for spiritual lessons but for hot meals, practical education, and emotional support, filling the maternal void with quiet compassion. Known island-wide for her willingness to help with "womanly concerns," household crises, or spiritual doubts, she has counseled everyone from grieving Huntsmen to wayward Faunus, all without judgment. Her gentle interventions have made her a pillar of Patch's community. Though devout, she possesses a worldly edge honed by years of dealing with Remnant's harsh realities, blending sermon-like wisdom with dry, teasing humor.
• Race: Human
• Emblem: The X-Cross of the Tablebreaker church-A simplified symbol worn by the devout, symbolizing the Broken Stone Table.
• Weapon: "Lion Shears" - A pair of Winchester semiauto .45 ACP pistols that can mecha shift into a scissor-like blade. These weapons can also be split into twin shortswords.
• Semblance: "Gentle Weaver"
  • Lucy can manifest thin threads of soft Aura that mend minor wounds, soothe emotional turmoil, or create temporary barriers of calm (dampening pain, fear, or rage in those touched). The threads "weave" connections, fostering understanding or easing confessions—ideal for counseling. Overuse drains her stamina, leaving her vulnerable, and it cannot heal severe injuries or override strong wills.
• Appearance: Petite and unassuming with a warm, maternal presence—greying auburn hair neatly tucked beneath her habit, kind brown eyes magnified behind round glasses, and a perpetual calm smile that can shift to knowing dryness in an instant.
• Outfit: Traditional Tablebreaker habit with a modest black dress with white accents with a wooden cross pendant. Practical additions include sturdy boots for Patch's rugged paths, a satchel for groceries/teaching aids, and hidden pockets for emergency supplies (bandages, snacks, or scripture pamphlets).
• Personality: Warm, grounded, and unflappably kind, Lucy radiates serene compassion that disarms even the most guarded souls—offering hugs, tea, and gentle truths in equal measure. Her humor is dry and teasing, delivered with playful eyebrow arches that cut through nonsense without cruelty. Beneath her devout exterior lies a pragmatic, worldly wisdom—she's seen Remnant's ugliest sides yet chooses faith and service daily. Patient with children, firm with fools, and fiercely protective of the vulnerable, she embodies "tough love" wrapped in softness, never preaching from afar but rolling up sleeves to help directly.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The Beacon library was a sanctuary of hushed whispers and rustling pages that afternoon—sunlight slanting through tall windows, casting golden pools across polished oak tables. Students hunched over scrolls and textbooks, the faint scent of old paper and ink hanging in the air like a comforting fog.

Jaune Arc sat in a secluded corner, surrounded by a fortress of open books—history notes for Oobleck's next quiz, a half-eaten apple beside his scroll. He scribbled furiously, muttering about Mistralian trade routes, oblivious to the storm approaching.

Blake Belladonna stormed through the stacks like a shadow with a mission—ears twitching under her bow, amber eyes narrowed to slits, a worn copy of Ninjas of Love clutched in one hand like evidence at a trial.

She slammed her palm down on Jaune's table—hard enough to make his apple jump.

Jaune yelped, pen flying. "Ah! Can I help you, Blake?"

She leaned in, voice low and intense. "When were you going to tell me?"

Jaune blinked, brain scrambling. "About… what?"

Blake's eyes flashed. She held up the book like a smoking gun. "You know what."

Jaune stared at the cover—the familiar swooning ninja heroine, the brooding love interest with suspiciously blond hair. His stomach dropped.

"Erm…"

Blake's voice dropped even lower, but the intensity ramped up. "Your sister is the author?!" She hissed, caught between glee and anger.

"Shhhh!"

Jaune's face went bright red. He glanced around—thank the Breaker he had chosen a deserted corner. He then looked back at Blake and cleared his throat.

"Yeah. She is."

Blake's stare turned to utter disbelief—betrayal worthy of a Hispanian soap opera, complete with dramatic pause.

"You have any idea what this means to me?" she hissed.

Jaune rubbed his neck, voice climbing an octave. "She usually likes to keep her work and family life separate? And not really—I don't know what this means at all."

Blake leaned closer, eyes wide. "This was a light for me in my darkest moments. And you—you dismiss it so casually?!"

Jaune twitched. Then twitched again. Words failed.

Not again,

"Blake… I know these books mean a lot to you," he managed, "but I'm actively trying to forget where my sister got her ideas. Because I kind of know all those people, and bringing it up around them is really embarrassing."

Blake's ears flicked. "Embarrassed? Why? This is art!"

Jaune winced. "If you said that to any of the people I know she based characters on, the reply would probably involve thrown objects."

Blake huffed. "Philistines." Then her expression shifted—curious, probing. "Did… did she base anyone off you?"

Jaune froze. "Ummm…"

Deny. Deny everything.

Blake leaned forward, amber eyes gleaming with mischief, a smug little smile playing on her lips.

"The hapless, bumbling farm boy who gets a lot of female attention effortlessly?" she teased, voice low but laced with delight. "Who wears bunny pajamas?"

Jaune's face was inventing new shades of red.

"That... That could be anyone!"

Blake's smirk became sharper.

He slammed the book shut harder than necessary. "No. Absolutely not. Akira is categorically not based on me—Jaune Arc. Where did you even get that idea? Have you been getting enough sleep lately?"

-"Come on. It's obvious."

Jaune shook his head vigorously. "First off, a lot of people wear bunny pajamas. Second, mine's a onesie. Third, I don't know anybody who garners that kind of female attention effortlessly."

"Why are you so embarrassed?"

Jaune groaned, rubbing his face. "I'm embarrassed enough being her editor. If my sister actually wrote a character based on me? I'd have to go live in seclusion in the Hinoki forest. Or on top of the mountains. Or maybe that rock of an island my great-great-grandfather enfeoffed my great-granduncle when he married into the family."

Blake tilted her head, curious despite herself. "Enfeoffed?"

"Gave him land. Tiny, useless islands near the Grimmlands. Point is—I'd hide forever."

Blake leaned in closer, voice dropping to a playful whisper. "Well… I'll keep your secret. Don't worry. It's just between us~. If!"

Jaune grabbed for it like the survivor of a Grimm attack grabbing for the Bullhead ladder.

"If?"

"I can meet her," Blake said eagerly.

Jaune sat frozen, twitching.

He pulled out his scroll, typing with shaky fingers.

Sis, remind me your policy for one-on-ones with fans? Classmate figured it out.

It took a while but Saphron responded.

Saphron: Who's asking?

Jaune glanced at Blake.

Blake Belladonna. Friend.

Blake, overhearing, mumbled, "Daughter of Menagerie's Chieftain…"

Jaune added: Yeah, that too.

Saphron: …Wait what? Royalty?

"I'm not royalty," Blake muttered angrily, "My parents were voted in by fair-"

Jaune: Yes. She's a huge fan. The biggest. One of those.

There was another long pause.

Saphron: Book signing at Farmer and Elite next week. Incognito?

Jaune really should have expected this-If he'd gotten his mother's brains, his sisters tended to get her mercenary ways.

Jaune: Sure thing.

Saphron: Great! I look forward to it!

Jaune: Sure thing, sis.

He hung up—well, ended the chat.

"It's done," Jaune said.

Blake hesitated, then hugged him—quick, fierce.

"Thank you," she whispered. "This means everything."

Jaune patted her back awkwardly. "There, there. Uh—you're welcome."

He smiled—confident, warm.

Blake wasn't the worst of his sister's fans.

Not by a long shot.

She brushed a quick kiss on his cheek—light, teasing—and stood, sauntering away with an almost giddy sway to her step. For Blake, that was practically skipping.

Jaune sat frozen, hand touching his cheek, face burning.

He felt resigned.

Still… hopefully he could get through the book signing without her fangirl tendencies exploding.

Jaune shivered.

Oh who was he kidding? He was doomed.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

REPORT OF THE SELECT COMMITTEE OF THE HIGH COUNCIL
APPOINTED TO INQUIRE INTO
THE CIRCUMSTANCES ATTENDING THE FALL OF MOUNT GLENN
AND THE LOSS OF LIFE AND PROPERTY RESULTING THEREFROM
HIGH COUNCIL OF THE UNITED NATIONS OF VALE
Session of the 47th Legislature
Printed by Order of the High Council
Vale City, Year of The Broken Table 1987

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COMMITTEE
The Select Committee appointed by resolution of the High Council on the 12th day of March, Year 1987, to inquire into the facts attending the fall of the settlement known as Mount Glenn, and the causes which led to the destruction of said settlement and the loss of life therein, consisted of the following members:
Councilor Priscilla Glocken (Chairwoman, Province of Vale-Proper)
Councilor Harlan Draven (Province of Arminus)
Councilor Lysandra Corvin (Province of Gallia)
Councilor Matilda Browning (Province of Nova Quitalia)
Councilor Marcus Flint (Province of Niederung)
Councilor Reuben Bell (Province of Endeavor)

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MAJORITY REPORT
Your Committee, having carefully examined the testimony of witnesses, the official correspondence of the Executive, the records of the Council of Ministers, and such other documents as were submitted to them, beg leave to submit the following report:

I. ORIGIN AND CHARACTER OF THE MOUNT GLENN UNDERTAKING
The settlement known as Mount Glenn was conceived and executed under the primary direction of Elias Vorn, a private citizen of considerable wealth and technical accomplishment, with the sanction and material support of the Government of Vale. The project was presented to the Council and to the public as a model city—an engineered metropolis intended to demonstrate the capacity of human ingenuity to establish permanent, prosperous habitation beyond the protected kingdoms. It was asserted that Mount Glenn would be self-sustaining, defended by novel applications of Dust technology and automated systems, and supplied by direct subterranean transit to Vale City.

The undertaking received substantial appropriations from the public treasury, together with assignments of Huntsmen-in-training and regular Defense Force personnel. The scale of the investment, both financial and symbolic, rendered Mount Glenn a matter of national prestige. The project was approved in February of 1979, the city opening up for settlement upon initial completion and operational capacity reached in June 1983.

II. THE ROLE OF DOCTOR VICTOR MERLOT
Doctor Victor Merlot, a scientist of acknowledged brilliance in the fields of cybernetics and Dust applications, was appointed Chief Scientific Advisor to the project by Elias Vorn with the knowledge of certain members of the High Council. Testimony establishes that Doctor Merlot was granted extensive subterranean facilities for research into the behavior and potential control of Grimm creatures.

Evidence from surviving technical schematics and fragmentary laboratory records indicates that these experiments progressed far beyond the defensive purposes originally represented to the Council. Mutant specimens of unprecedented aggression and resistance to conventional deterrents were produced. The Committee finds that the breach of containment of these specimens constituted the proximate cause of the collapse of the city's defensive systems.

III. THE CATASTROPHE
On April 4th, Year 1986, the mutant Grimm escaped confinement, disabling the primary sonic barriers and automated turrets upon which the city relied. Standard Grimm were drawn in unprecedented numbers to the resulting disturbance. The surface districts were rapidly overrun, and the subterranean transit tunnels became avenues of invasion rather than escape.

The Committee received harrowing testimony from surviving medical personnel, Defense Force officers, civilian evacuees, and Hunters, including Doctor Isabel Arc and Captain Nicholas Arc, whose efforts in the final hours preserved many lives at great personal risk. The chaos and loss of life within the city and tunnels defy complete enumeration.

IV. THE DECISION TO SEAL THE TUNNELS
When it became evident that the city could not be held and that the Grimm incursion threatened the territory of Vale proper, the High Council, in emergency session, authorized the destruction of the primary transit tunnel by means of an explosive-laden train. This measure, though grievous, was deemed necessary to prevent the horde from reaching Vale City.

The vote was taken under the authority of Chancellor Zachary Thompson, who ordered the execution of the plan and took full personal responsibility. The Chancellor subsequently tendered his resignation, which was accepted by the Council.

V. CONCLUSIONS

1. The fall of Mount Glenn resulted primarily from the unauthorized and uncontrolled experiments conducted by Doctor Victor Merlot, the dangers of which were not adequately communicated to or supervised by the responsible authorities.
2. The Executive and certain members of the Council of Ministers failed in their duty of oversight by permitting a private citizen to exercise quasi-sovereign authority over a project of such magnitude and risk.
3. While the decision to seal the tunnels inflicted additional loss of life, the Committee finds that the responsible authorities acted under the reasonable belief that no alternative existed to protect the Kingdom from catastrophic invasion.The Committee notes that the resignation, while voluntary, effectively shielded higher executive and legislative authorities from sustained scrutiny, a circumstance that will likely occasion divergent interpretations in subsequent historical scholarship.
4. The tragedy underscores the peril of entrusting the common defense to untested technological innovations without rigorous public scrutiny and accountability.

VI. RECOMMENDATIONS
Your Committee respectfully recommends:

1. That all future undertakings of similar scale require explicit authorization and continuing oversight by a joint committee of the High and Low Councils.
2. That research into the control or modification of Grimm creatures be prohibited except under direct supervision of the Head of Huntsmen and with the express consent of the High Council and legislation to effect this be passed forthwith.
3. That a permanent memorial be established to the citizens and defenders who perished at Mount Glenn, and that the site remain sealed as a warning to future generations.

All of which is respectfully submitted.
Priscilla Glocken (Chairwoman, Province of Vale-Proper)
Harlan Draven (Province of Arminus)
Lysandra Corvin (Province of Gallia)
Matilda Browning (Province of Nova Quitalia)
Marcus Flint (Province of Niederung)
Reuben Bell (Province of Endeavor)

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MINORITY REPORT
The undersigned, while concurring in the general findings of fact contained in the foregoing report, cannot assent to certain conclusions and recommendations therein set forth, and submits the following views:

The Majority, in attributing primary responsibility to inadequate oversight by the Executive and Council of Ministers, has failed to give due weight to the extraordinary and unforeseen nature of the peril that confronted the Kingdom. The experiments of Doctor Merlot, though reckless and ultimately disastrous, were undertaken in pursuit of advancements that might have secured the permanent safety of Vale against the Grimm. The breach of containment and the ensuing catastrophe were not the result of mere negligence, but of the inherent unpredictability of such research—an unpredictability that no degree of supervision could wholly eliminate.

As to the decision to seal the transit tunnels, the Majority concedes its necessity while deploring its consequences. The undersigned holds that this measure was not merely necessary, but imperative and heroic. Intelligence available to the Chancellor and High Council at the critical hour indicated that the Grimm horde, swollen by Merlot's mutants, was advancing with a rapidity that threatened not only the frontier provinces but Vale City itself. Delay would have risked the annihilation of the Kingdom. The sacrifice of those remaining in the tunnels, grievous as it was, preserved the lives of hundreds of thousands.

The resignation of Chancellor Thompson, far from being a just acknowledgment of fault, appears rather as a capitulation to public clamor inflamed by incomplete knowledge of the facts. The undersigned regrets that the Majority has not seen fit to exonerate the Chancellor fully and to affirm the soundness of the final defensive action.

The recommendations of the Majority, while prudent in their call for future oversight, risk stifling legitimate scientific inquiry at a time when bold innovation is most needed against the Grimm menace. Prohibition of research into Grimm control should be tempered with provision for carefully regulated experimentation under joint civilian and Huntsmen authority.

In conclusion, the fall of Mount Glenn, though a profound tragedy, must be viewed as the price of ambition in an age of peril. The responsibility rests chiefly with Elias Vorn and Doctor Merlot, whose private judgments overrode the cautions of public authority. The Kingdom owes a debt of gratitude to those who, in the moment of crisis, chose the survival of the many over the vain hope of saving all.
Respectfully submitted,

Marcus Flint Councilor, Province of Niederung

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THE RESIGNATION

On the 17th day following the catastrophe, Chancellor Thompson appeared before a joint session of the High and Low Councils to deliver the following address (excerpted from the official record):

"Honored Speakers, Councilors, and citizens of Vale,
The weight of the office I have held these six years has never been heavier than in this hour. The decision to seal the tunnels beneath Mount Glenn was mine to affirm, taken in the sincere belief that no lesser measure could preserve the Kingdom from annihilation. Yet the blood of those who perished in that darkness cries out, and I will not permit the institution of the Chancellery to bear the stain of their unanswered grief.
I have tendered my resignation to the Chairwoman, effective immediately. Let my departure serve as the accounting demanded by conscience and by the people. I pray that history may judge the necessity of our actions with greater mercy than the present hour affords.
May the Tablebreaker guide us to wisdom in the trials yet to come."

The resignation was accepted without dissent. Deputy Chancellor Elara Voss (a compromise figure from the moderate coalition) assumed interim authority pending new elections.

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CONFIDENTIAL REPORT
SUBMITTED TO THE HIGH COUNCIL AND THE OFFICE OF THE CHANCELLORBY THE HEAD OF HUNTSMENON THE FALL OF MOUNT GLENN
Beacon Academy, Vale City
Year of The Broken Table 1987

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To the Honorable Members of the High Council,and to Chancellor Zachary Thompson (or his successor in office):

In accordance with the request of the Select Committee and in fulfillment of my duty as Head of Huntsmen, I submit the following report concerning the circumstances surrounding the establishment, operation, and ultimate destruction of the settlement known as Mount Glenn. This account is drawn from direct observation, correspondence, after-action reviews of deployed Huntsmen and Huntresses, and such limited documentation as was recovered from the site.

I. PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS ON THE PROJECT
The Mount Glenn initiative originated as a private venture under the direction of Elias Vorn, a citizen of demonstrated ingenuity and resolve. From its earliest conception, the project was presented as an endeavor to extend the secure boundaries of human habitation through advanced applications of Dust engineering and automated defense systems. I was consulted informally by Mr. Vorn on several occasions beginning in Year 1973, and I encouraged cautious exploration of technologies that might strengthen our common defense against the Grimm.

It was my judgment at the time that a successful settlement of this nature could serve the broader interests of the Kingdom and, indeed, of humanity as a whole. I therefore lent measured support, facilitating the assignment of Huntsmen-in-training and licensed professionals to assist in perimeter establishment and threat assessment.

II. CONCERNS REGARDING SCIENTIFIC DIRECTION
In Year 1983, Mr. Vorn appointed Doctor Victor Merlot as Chief Scientific Advisor, with primary responsibility for the development of defensive technologies. I expressed private reservations to Mr. Vorn regarding Doctor Merlot's prior research, which had on multiple occasions approached the boundaries of ethical restraint in the study of Grimm behavior. These concerns were conveyed in writing and in person, with specific caution against experiments involving the containment or modification of live specimens.

Mr. Vorn assured me that Doctor Merlot's work would remain strictly defensive in nature and subject to oversight. Subsequent developments suggest that such oversight proved inadequate.

III. THE CATASTROPHE AND HUNTSMEN RESPONSE

In the latter months of Year 1985, reports from deployed personnel indicated escalating irregularities in Grimm activity near the settlement—patterns inconsistent with natural attraction. When containment was breached on April 4th 1986, the resulting incursion overwhelmed the city's primary defenses with unprecedented rapidity.

Huntsmen and Huntresses under my authority, alongside elements of the Valean Defense Force, mounted a determined rearguard action to facilitate civilian evacuation through the subterranean transit tunnels. Their efforts, often at great personal cost, preserved many lives that would otherwise have been lost. I mourn the fallen among their number, and I honor the courage of those who remained at their posts to the end.

IV. FINAL OBSERVATIONS

The fall of Mount Glenn represents a profound tragedy, born of ambition that outpaced prudence. Elias Vorn was a man of vision whose dreams for humanity deserved admiration, even as his refusal to heed measured counsel contributed to their undoing. Doctor Merlot's actions, whatever their intent, unleashed forces beyond reckoning.

The decision to seal the tunnels, though agonizing, preserved the Kingdom from a threat that might have eclipsed even the losses suffered that day. I offer no criticism of those who bore the burden of that choice.

We are reminded, once again, that the Grimm are not merely beasts to be engineered or mastered, but a peril that demands humility as much as resolve. Let the ruins of Mount Glenn stand as both memorial and warning: that the path to salvation is seldom found in the pursuit of perfection, but in the quiet strength to recognize our limits.

I remain at the disposal of the Council for any further testimony required.

With solemn respect,

Professor Ozpin
Head of Huntsmen
Headmaster of Beacon Academy

 

[AndrewJTalon]

DECLASSIFIED EXCERPT
FORENSIC ANALYSIS OF RECOVERED LABORATORY RECORDS
MOUNT GLENN SUBTERRANEAN FACILITIES
Prepared by Valean Defense Force Military Intelligence Department Q
In Cooperation with Beacon Academy and the Office of the Head of Huntsmen
Year of The Broken Table 1987
Classification: TOP SECRET – Authorized Personnel Only
Distribution: High Council Select Committee, Chancellor's Office, Beacon Security Archives

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SUMMARY OF FINDINGS
The following analysis is derived from fragmentary data drives, charred notebooks, and surviving holographic logs recovered from the sealed subterranean laboratories beneath the former settlement of Mount Glenn. The facilities, designated "Nexus Sub-Level Delta" by project administration, were constructed under the supervision of Doctor Victor Merlot with funding and resources allocated through the Vorn Combine.

Doctor Merlot's stated objective, as recorded in early correspondence with Elias Vorn, was the development of "adaptive Grimm countermeasures" – technologies and biological modifications intended to render the creatures predictable, controllable, or repellant. Over time, the research diverged markedly from defensive applications into active manipulation and hybridization of live Grimm specimens.

PRIMARY EXPERIMENTAL PHASES
Phase I: Containment and Observation (Years 1982–83)

• Objective: Establish viable long-term containment of lesser Grimm for behavioral study.
• Methodology:
  • Construction of reinforced Dust-crystal containment cages powered directly by the Mount Glenn primary Dust vein.
  • Application of modulated sonic emitters (later adapted for city-wide barriers) to suppress aggression.
  • Introduction of controlled Aura infusions to test Grimm response to human soul-energy signatures.
• Results: Successful containment of Beowolves, Creepers, and juvenile Ursai for periods exceeding six months. Subjects displayed reduced aggression under specific Dust-frequency exposure. Doctor Merlot noted "promising neural compliance thresholds."
• Note: Additional investigation suggests this research was long term and conducted in secret at Merlot's private facilities and later in Mount Glenn, with this phase the culmination of at least four-five years of private experimentation prior to Merlot's appointment to the city.

Phase II: Cybernetic Augmentation (Years 1983-1984)

• Objective: Implant mechanical interfaces to override natural Grimm behavioral patterns.
• Methodology:
  • Surgical implantation of Dust-conductive neural shunts and control nodes into captured specimens.
  • Integration of prototype Atlesian-derived servo-motors and sensor arrays (sourced through discretionary Vorn Combine contracts).
  • Remote command protocols tested via encrypted radio linkage.
• Notable Creations:
  • "Alpha-Series" Beowolves: Enhanced speed and pack coordination; capable of responding to basic directional commands.
  • "Creeper Drones": Modified Creepers fitted with explosive Dust payloads and rudimentary homing instincts.
• Doctor Merlot's Log Entry (excerpt, Year 1984):
  
  "They are not mere beasts of destruction. Beneath the rage lies structure – a dark symmetry. With the proper key, they can be taught obedience. Mr. Vorn speaks of a city untouchable by Grimm; I will give him a city guarded by them."

Phase III: Dust-Induced Mutation and Human Aura Imprinting Cybernetics (Years 1985–1986)

• Objective: Accelerate Grimm evolution to create specimens resistant to conventional deterrents and capable of directed aggression.
• Methodology:
  • Direct exposure of just spawned and "juvenile" Grimm to concentrated multi-type Dust infusions drawn from the primary vein, with Aura neural "overlap" from human volunteers to attempt to imbue Grimm with human intelligence through neutral interfaces.
  • Forced hybridization of Grimm types through Dust-powered merging tanks and Aura-based manipulation systems.
  • Iterative mutation cycles using preserved Grimm tissue and synthetic Dust compounds.
• Notable Creations:
  • "Armored Alpha Beowulves": Forced Alpha level Beowulves with extensive mutations and cybernetic implants: Able to problem solve, resistant to sonic emitters due to integrated neural interface.
  • "Nexus Creepers": Highly volatile Creepers capable of self-detonation on command.
  • "Chimera-Series Hybrids": Experimental fusions exhibiting traits of multiple Grimm species (e.g., Beowolf agility with Death Stalker plating).
• Escalation Indicators:
  • Increasing isolation of research staff; non-essential personnel reassigned.
  • Falsification of progress reports to surface administration.
  • Doctor Merlot's personal logs reveal growing conviction that controlled Grimm could serve as the ultimate labor and defense force for a "post-human" society.

Phase IV: Breach and Collapse (Year 1986)

• Trigger Event: Overloading of primary containment vats during an attempt to stabilize a large-scale Chimera specimen.
• Consequences:
  • Mutant specimens neutralized city-wide sonic barriers through adaptive frequency disruption.
  • Escaped hybrids drew massive external Grimm hordes, overwhelming automated defenses.
  • Doctor Merlot's final recorded transmission (partial):
    
    "They understand now. They obey. Our race will be reborn in darkness—stronger, purer-"

CONCLUSIONS AND RECOMMENDATIONS
Doctor Merlot's experiments represent a profound violation of ethical boundaries and Huntsmen protocols concerning Grimm research. The mutations produced were not merely defensive innovations but weapons of unprecedented destructive potential.

The Investigative Team recommends:

1. Permanent prohibition of live Grimm experimentation outside strictly regulated Beacon oversight.
2. Enhanced security protocols for archival access to Doctor Merlot's research.
3. Continued monitoring of known Merlot associates and salvage operations in the Mount Glenn exclusion zone.

Doctor Merlot's current whereabouts remain unknown. He is to be considered extremely dangerous.

Respectfully submitted,

Professor Ozpin
Head of Huntsmen
In consultation with Senior Investigative Staff and the Vale Defense Force Military Intelligence Department Q

 

[AndrewJTalon]

VALEAN DEFENSE FORCE
SWORN TESTIMONY
Operation: LAST LIGHT – Final Evacuation of Mount Glenn
Submitted by:Captain Elias Reynolds
57th Valean Infantry Regiment, 5th Battalion, Ebony Company
Date: 22nd Day After Collapse
Location: Forward Operating Base Echo, Glennwald Valley
Classification: Restricted – High Council Select Committee, Huntsmen Command, Chancellor's Office
Sworn before:
Colonel Harlan Greene (Commanding Officer, 57th Regiment/Valean Response Forces)
Councilor Priscilla Glocken (Chairwoman, Province of Vale-Proper)
Councilor Harlan Draven (Province of Arminus)
Councilor Lysandra Corvin (Province of Gallia)
Councilor Matilda Browning (Province of Nova Quitalia)
Councilor Marcus Flint (Province of Niederung)
Councilor Reuben Bell (Province of Endeavor)

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STATEMENT OF CAPTAIN ELIAS REYNOLDS
I, Captain Elias Reynolds, do hereby swear that the following account is true and accurate to the best of my knowledge and recollection.
On the day of the final collapse of Mount Glenn, my company—Ebony Company, 5th Battalion, 57th Infantry—was attached to the Radian Volunteer Militia under the overall command of Valean Hunter Captain Nicholas Arc. I made no objection to this: Captain Arc's reputation was well known and well deserved, and his experience and power were welcome.

Colonel Greene had ordered Ebony Company into the primary transit tunnel as part of the rearguard, tasked with holding the barricade long enough to evacuate as many civilians and wounded as possible before the tunnel was sealed.

The tunnel was a nightmare. Dim emergency lighting flickered over a sea of desperate faces—refugees, wounded soldiers, children clutching parents. The air stank of blood, Dust, and fear. Doctor Isabel Arc—Captain Arc's wife—had set up a forward aid station right behind our barricade of concrete traffic dividers. She worked without pause, stabilizing the dying, directing nurses, even using her Semblance to keep men alive long enough to be loaded onto the railcarts. I've never seen a medic with that kind of focus under fire.

The Grimm came in waves. Beowolves mostly, but worse—All I can call them is... Mutants. Bigger, faster, smarter than anything in the field manuals. They shrugged off the sonic emitters and kept coming even after taking full auto bursts and grenades from our rifles. We held the line as best we could, but every minute cost us men.

When Command relayed the order to collapse the tunnel with the explosive train, I passed it down the line. Most of my troops obeyed and began falling back. Doctor Arc refused to leave. She said she'd stay until the last possible moment. I wasn't about to let her face that alone. I ordered the rest of my company to withdraw and took position on the barricade with her.

Captain Nicholas Arc came through the breach not long after—running point for the final group of survivors. He had a child over one shoulder and was laying down fire with his railgun sword. Mercer Sith, the Faunus heavy gunner, was right behind him with his minigun. They brought maybe forty civilians with them—men, women, children, some wounded so badly they shouldn't have been moving.

Doctor Arc was already at the edge of Aura break. She'd been holding the line with thrown barricades and whatever she could lift. When she saw her husband, she uh... She stayed together longer. Never seen anything like it.

We made the final push together. I took the rear, providing covering fire while Captain Arc carried his wife and the child. Mercer grabbed another boy clear of the tracks. The train came down the line like judgment itself—fast, unstoppable. We cleared the blast radius by seconds. The explosion collapsed the tunnel behind us and buried whatever was left of Mount Glenn.

I lost eight men that day holding that barricade. Good soldiers. We saved more than we lost, but not enough.

Captain Nicholas Arc and Doctor Isabel Arc are two of the finest people I've ever served with. Their actions, and the actions of every defender who didn't make it out, deserve to be remembered.

I have nothing further to add.

Captain Elias Reynolds
57th Valean Infantry Regiment
Ebony Company

Sworn and subscribed before this committee this 22nd day after the collapse.
Colonel Harlan Greene (Commanding Officer, 57th Regiment/Valean Response Forces)
Councilor Priscilla Glocken (Chairwoman, Province of Vale-Proper)
Councilor Harlan Draven (Province of Arminus)
Councilor Lysandra Corvin (Province of Gallia)
Councilor Matilda Browning (Province of Nova Quitalia)
Councilor Marcus Flint (Province of Niederung)
Councilor Reuben Bell (Province of Endeavor)

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The RWBY dorm room door was barely visible behind a towering, four-foot pile of bouquets, their vibrant colors clashing in a chaotic explosion of roses, lilies, and tulips. The scent of pollen hung heavy in the air, making Weiss Schnee sneeze as she stood in the hallway, her ice-blue eyes narrowing in exasperation. Her white combat skirt was pristine, but her patience was fraying as she crossed her arms, glaring at the floral barricade.

"Why is there a four-foot pile of bouquets outside our door?" Weiss demanded, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.

Yang Xiao Long leaned against the wall, her blonde hair catching the dorm's dim light, her lilac eyes glinting with amusement. She shrugged, her leather jacket creaking. "They're for me. I still don't have a date for the dance, and I guess every single guy in this whole school decided to shoot their shot."

Weiss snorted, her ponytail swishing as she tossed her head. "Hmph. Desperate, are they?"

Yang's grin turned wicked, her voice a playful growl. "But it's gonna take a lot more than a few flowers to tame this dragon."

The door creaked open, and Jaune Arc stepped into the hallway, his hoodie slightly rumpled, his blonde hair mussed from the wind. He carried a single daffodil, its bright yellow petals glowing softly in his hand. "Hey, Yang," he said, his blue eyes warm but casual.

"Sup, Vomit Boy," Yang replied, her tone teasing, her smirk firmly in place.

Jaune rubbed his neck, his voice earnest. "I found this flower growing in the gardens, and it reminded me of you." He held out the daffodil, its delicate stem dwarfed by the mountain of bouquets behind them. He then turned and walked off, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

Weiss's eyebrow arched, her voice dripping with disdain. "What is it with this kingdom and flowers?" She turned to Yang, expecting a snarky retort, but froze. "…Yang?"

Yang clutched the daffodil close to her chest, her lilac eyes glistening with unshed tears, a dopey smile spreading across her face. Her voice was soft, almost reverent. "He got me a flower. Nobody's ever gotten me something so nice before."

Weiss's jaw dropped, her voice a disbelieving sputter.