[RWBY] RWBY Shorts

[AndrewJTalon]

The Beacon Cafeteria courtyard was unusually busy that afternoon, thanks to one very determined four-year-old.

Mia sat behind a rickety old wooden table she'd convinced the teachers to let her use. A slightly crooked cardboard sign reading "LEMONAD" in bright crayon letters was taped to the front. On the table sat a big pitcher of powdered lemonade, a stack of plastic cups, and a small bucket of ice Dust keeping everything cool.

Professor Ozpin had stopped by earlier when Mia had shyly asked him for money to buy her papa a gift for Father's Day.

"I can't just give you money, Mia," Ozpin had said with a gentle chuckle. "But if you want to earn it, you could set up a lemonade stand. That's how many enterprising young people begin."

So here she was, standing behind her little table, determination in her eyes.

Coco Adel was the first to walk by. She stopped, tilting her sunglasses down as she took in the scene.

"What's all this, darling?"

Mia looked up with big, hopeful eyes. "I'm selling lemonade! I want to buy my Papa a really good Father's Day gift because I love him lots!"

Coco's heart visibly melted. Without another word, she pulled out a generous stack of lien and handed it over.

"Keep the change, cutie." She took a cup, took one sip, and somehow kept a straight face. "Delicious."

She immediately waved over the rest of CFVY. Velvet, Fox, and Yatsuhashi each bought a cup (and quietly suffered through the overly sweet, slightly gritty lemonade) while Coco dramatically praised it as "a bold new flavor profile."

Other students started trickling in.

Neptune swaggered up, trying to impress May Zedong, who was walking beside him. "One cup for the lovely lady, and one for me!"

May blushed, quietly bought her own cup, and whispered, "Thank you…" before scurrying off. Neptune went after her.

"Hey! Wait up!"

Cardin walked by with his little sister Sam on his shoulders. Sam pointed excitedly at the stand.

"Lemonade!" she demanded.

Cardin groaned but pulled out lien. "Fine. But only because you're cute, kid."

"Yay!" Mia cheered.

"I wasn't talking to you, brat," Cardin grumbled, but at Sam tugging on his hair he coughed, "I mean... Just give me some lemonade!"

"Okay!"

Even General Ironwood, passing through on his way to a meeting, stopped. He regarded the stand with his usual seriousness, bought a cup, took a single sip, and nodded once.

"Acceptable hydration."

Mia's little table was soon surrounded. She was handing out cups as fast as she could, her face flushed with pride and effort.

Then she ran out of lemonade.

The pitcher was empty. The line was still there. Mia's lip started to wobble.

"I… I don't have any more…" she whispered, eyes filling with tears. "Now I can't get Papa a gift…"

RWBY and JNPR pushed through the small crowd just in time to see Mia's face crumple.

"Wha... Mia, seriously? What is all this?" Jaune asked.

"I-I wanted to get money to buy you a gift and-and Professor Ozpin said I could earn it-And-And I ran out of lemonade and now I can't buy you one!" Mia bawled.

The female majority of the two teams all looked at the heartbreaking scene with looks of affection and sorrow. Even Blake.

Weiss was the first to be practical.

Weiss sighed. "Mia, I could have just given you the money-"

"No!" Mia sniffled, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "I had to earn it! For Papa! Y-You do everything and I-I wanna do something for you!"

Jaune knelt down immediately and pulled her into his arms. "Hey, hey… it's okay, kitten."

He hugged her tight, rubbing her back as she cried into his shoulder.

"You don't have to do anything special for me," he said softly. "You're already the greatest gift I could ever have. I love you so much, Mia. And I'm so grateful for you trying to do this for me."

Mia sniffled, then smiled through her tears and planted a big, wet kiss on his cheek. "Love you, Papa."

Jaune chuckled and wiped her face gently. "Love you too, sweetie. Now… how much did you make?"

Mia held up a surprisingly thick stack of lien with both hands.

Jaune stared.

The rest of RWBY and JNPR stared.

Nora let out a low whistle. "That's… gotta be close to a hundred thousand lien."

"Hundred thousand and fifty," Ruby muttered. "Geez... We never did those numbers for our lemonade stand!"

"We were out in the middle of nowhere," Yang added. She patted Mia on the head with a broad grin. "Nice work, kiddo!"

Jaune coughed in disbelief. "Mia… how—?"

Mia shrugged innocently, still sniffling. "Lots of people bought lemonade. Is it enough for anything good?"

Jaune looked at the stack, then at his beaming, tear-streaked daughter, and started laughing — half in disbelief, half in pure love.

"Yeah, kitten," he said, pulling her into another tight hug. "It's more than enough."

 

[Gur40]

@AndrewJTalon
Theatre time for the Dragon

Xia: calling her aunt "Hey, aunty Rubes."

Ruby: in a confused voice "What is it Xia??"

Xia: "Can we crash at your place aunty?"

Ruby: "........Jaune told Yang a pun right??"

Xia: " .....yes"

Ruby: after exhaling deeply "Give me 30 minutes, let me prepare the beds."

Click to shrink...

If this is the step-sibling time line then at least Xia can hang out with her 15-20 "cousins"
… and "aunty" Ruby can slip out to join Yang and Jaune

 

[Sliverhero]

Here is an idea for a twisted team that is almost a dark mirror to JNPR. Anyone can use them.
Team GRIM
The Leader : Gille Arc
Inspiration: Gilles de Rais
Obsession: The Dark Sovereign
The Dynamic: Gille after being saved by her beloved cousin she now believes that Jaune is a sleeping tyrant in the making. She is obsessed with the idea that the Arc family were once God-Kings who were betrayed by history. She acts as a twisted mentor and seductress, trying to corrupt Jaune's soul. She wants to be the "Queen to his King," ruling over the ashes of Remnant after she unlocks his dormant, world-conquering potential.

The Muscle : Ragna Rockwell
Inspiration: Surtur
Obsession: The Broken Storm
The Dynamic: Ragna is a hulking, scarred man with skin resembling cooled lava and a temperament that is violently oppressive. When he was young he meets Nora and ends up becoming obsessed with Nora's boundless energy, which he would view down the lane as an insult to his idea of the gravity of war. He doesn't want to date her; he wants to crush her, conquer her. Prove to her that her way of life is wrong. He believes a god's power should be feared, not used for games. He seeks to break her spirit and her hammer, proving that "fire burns hotter than lightning," and that her cheerfulness is a mask for weakness.

The Tactician : Isidore "The Butcher"
Inspiration: The Death of Achilles
Obsession: The Fatal Flaw
The Dynamic: Isidore is a cold, calculating man who fights with a jagged spear and a brutal, brawling style that mocks Pyrrha's grace. He is obsessed with the concept of "Invincibility" as a lie. He has studied every frame of Pyrrha's tournament matches. He doesn't want to beat her; he wants to dismantle her piece by piece. He is obsessed with finding the microscopic hesitation, the emotional crack, or the physical "heel" that will make the "Invincible Girl" crumble into a pathetic victim.

The Infiltrator : General Hua
Inspiration: The Faceless Soldier
Obsession: The Void
The Dynamic: Hua is a silent, bandaged-wrapped woman who moves like smoke. She is obsessed with Ren's humanity, specifically, his attachment to it. She believes emotions are a cancer that Ren failed to cut out. She wants to "cure" him. Hua is obsessed with the idea of removing Ren's memories, his name, and his love, leaving only a killing machine. She views him as a "failed experiment" that she needs to fix by hollowing him out.
But strangely the only thing you can see of her is her eyes and they are the same shade of colour that Ren eyes are.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Pyrrha has a marriage meeting...

- - -

Pyrrha Nikos sat perfectly straight in the plush leather seat of her mother's private airship, hands folded in her lap, smile polite and practiced. The expression had served her well in tournaments, interviews, sponsorship galas—anywhere the world demanded the Invincible Girl be serene, gracious, untouchable. Inside, she was screaming.

Athena Nikos stood at the viewport, radiant as ever in a flowing emerald gown that caught the light like stage spotlights. Even pushing sixty, her mother looked barely forty; the benefits of a lifetime of Aura discipline and the best cosmetic surgeons lien could buy. Athena turned, beaming.

"You're going to love him, darling. Truly. Old blood—real blood. His great-grandmother ruled half the known world before she abdicated. The family still commands respect in every court from Vale to Vacuo. A match like this will open every door your tournament wins never could."

Pyrrha's smile didn't waver. "I have Beacon, Mother. I'm happy there."

Athena waved a dismissive hand. "Beacon is charming, yes, and I indulged you because you begged so prettily. But you're nineteen now. Past time to think of your future beyond schoolyard heroics."

Pyrrha looked out the window so her mother wouldn't see the flicker of pain in her eyes. She had fought this for months—quietly, carefully, the only way she dared. Athena Nikos loved her daughter fiercely, in the way a director loves her star actress: with absolute certainty that she alone knew what role suited her best. Pyrrha had begged, reasoned, even cried once (in private). In the end, she had agreed to one meeting. Just one. Then perhaps her mother would let it rest.

She missed her team so fiercely it hurt. Nora would have filled the cabin with wild chatter and threats to blow up any suitor who looked at Pyrrha wrong. Ren would have sat beside her in calm silence, offering the comfort of simply being there. And Jaune…

Jaune would have made her laugh. Clumsy, earnest Jaune, who believed in her even when she didn't believe in herself.

But Jaune had a family obligation this weekend, and Nora and Ren had been firmly told they were not invited. So Pyrrha endured alone.

She straightened her spine further. Fine. She would attend this farce, greet this spoiled princeling, and make it unmistakably clear that Pyrrha Nikos was no one's bargaining chip. She would be polite—devastatingly so—and he would flee back to whatever gilded manor had birthed him.

The airship descended toward a picturesque mountain valley. Radian nestled there like something out of an old storybook: white stone walls, colorful banners fluttering from towers, a waterfall cascading down the mountainside into a crystal lake. A castle perched on the highest hill, banners of blue and gold snapping in the wind.

Athena clasped her hands. "Beautiful, isn't it? It was the imperial seat once. They turned the old castle into a hospital after the war—such forward thinking."

Pyrrha followed her mother down the ramp onto the landing pad. The air smelled of pine and fresh bread. Townspeople waved cheerfully as they passed; several called out greetings to Athena by name. Her mother had clearly done her research.

They walked along cobblestone streets toward the hill. The castle-hospital loomed closer, its ancient walls softened by flowering vines. A grand sign arched over the main gate: Arc-en-Ciel Medical Center.

Pyrrha stopped dead.

Arc-en-Ciel.

It couldn't be.

Her mother noticed her pause. "Is something wrong, darling?"

"No," Pyrrha said faintly. "Nothing."

But her heart was suddenly pounding. Jaune had mentioned his family ran a hospital in his hometown. He'd laughed about it once, saying his mother threatened to make him scrub bedpans if he ever slacked off on his studies.

No. It was a coincidence. Plenty of families had rainbow-themed names. Plenty of hospitals were converted castles.

They were led through pristine halls that still retained vaulted ceilings and stained-glass windows depicting knights and lions. Nurses in pastel scrubs nodded respectfully. Finally they reached a private conference room on the top floor, sunlight pouring through tall windows onto a long oak table.

Nick and Isabel Arc rose to greet them—tall, kind-eyed, unmistakably Jaune's parents. And there, seated at the head of the table in a simple yet regal blue gown, golden circlet resting on silver-white hair, was Queen Arturia Pendragon herself.

Athena swept into an elegant curtsy. "Your Majesty. Lady Isabel, Lord Nicholas. What an honor."

Arturia's smile was warm, almost grandmotherly, but her eyes—sharp as any blade—assessed them both. "Athena Nikos. Pyrrha Nikos." She inclined her head. "I have heard much about you from my great-grandson."

Athena's perfectly maintained smile cracked a bit. "Y-your—?!"

The side door burst open.

"Yoooo! Baby!" A tall blond figure strutted in wearing a blindingly pink pair of heart-shaped sunglasses, at least six gaudy gold chains layered over a half-unbuttoned silk shirt, and—Pyrrha wasn't entirely sure—white pants so tight they had to be illegal in at least three kingdoms. He struck a pose, one hand on his hip, the other pointing finger-guns. "You are lookin' fiiiine, girl, and I am here to—Pyrrha?!"

The sunglasses slipped down his nose.

Jaune Arc stared at her in open-mouthed horror.

Pyrrha stared back.

Athena's smile froze in place. Isabel pinched the bridge of her nose. Nick coughed into his fist, shoulders shaking with barely suppressed laughter.

Arturia sighed, long and suffering. "Jaune. What are you wearing?"

Jaune yanked the sunglasses off, face flaming crimson. "Nana, I—this was—I thought if I acted like a total tool, she'd hate me and we could all go home! I didn't know it was Pyrrha!"

Pyrrha felt something bubble up in her chest—relief, amusement, affection so fierce it nearly knocked her over. The tension that had coiled inside her for weeks unraveled all at once.

She laughed.

It started as a small, startled sound and grew until she had to cover her mouth, shoulders shaking. Jaune's expression shifted from mortification to sheepish delight.

Athena cleared her throat sharply. "Pyrrha."

Pyrrha straightened, wiping her eyes, composure sliding back into place like armor. But her voice was softer than it had been in days.

"Hello, Jaune."

Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, chains clinking embarrassingly. "Hi, Pyr. Uh… surprise?"

Arturia rose. "Perhaps the two of you would like a moment in the courtyard. Alone."

Athena opened her mouth—clearly to protest—but one look from the former empress stilled her tongue. Nick gently took his wife's elbow. "Come along, ladies. I believe the kids have some catching up to do."

The adults filed out. The door closed with a soft click.

Silence.

Then Pyrrha stepped forward and, very carefully, flicked one of the gold chains. "This is new."

Jaune groaned, covering his face. "I look like a Mistral nightclub owner's midlife crisis. I'm so sorry. I thought if I scared the suitor away, Nana would stop dragging me to these things."

Pyrrha's smile turned gentle. "You were trying to sabotage the meeting?"

"Every time," he admitted. "Usually it works within five minutes. I didn't know it was you."

"I didn't know it was you either." She tilted her head. "Arc-en-Ciel. I should have guessed."

He winced. "Yeah. Sorry for the… everything." He gestured helplessly at his outfit.

Pyrrha studied him—ridiculous clothes and all—and felt the last of her dread melt away. "I was planning to do the same thing, you know. Be perfectly polite and utterly untouchable until he ran screaming."

Jaune's eyes widened. "Really?"

She nodded. "I thought he'd be some arrogant prince who saw me as a trophy."

He gave her a lopsided smile. "Instead you got… this."

"I think," Pyrrha said softly, "I much prefer this."

Jaune's blush returned full force. He reached up as if to remove the chains, then stopped. "So… courtyard? Before my nana decides to come back and lecture us both on proper courtship attire?"

Pyrrha offered her arm, the way he always did for her at Beacon dances when he thought no one was watching. "Lead the way, Prince Jaune."

He took it carefully, like she was something precious. "For the record," he muttered as they stepped into the sunlight, "I'd have worn something normal if I'd known it was you."

Pyrrha leaned her head briefly against his shoulder. "I know."

And for the first time in weeks, she felt perfectly, completely at peace.

 

[IvanR1314]

"why do i hear boss music/doom music?" - the Grimm, probably.

Click to shrink...

I think Arsenal Knight fits more, plus this is an obvious reference to Doom slayer in the Dark Ages, and he had an Arsenal of Shotguns, Nail shooters, rocket and cannon ball, Plasma weapons the SHIELD with FREAKING SAW TEETH and Glory Strikes with Gauntlets and Kicks, Flail and Huge Club, which can translate to Gauntlets and Crocoa Mors and a club and the Shield with the Energy dust modified Shield, plus an arsenal of weapons including high caliber Hunting Handguns, shotguns, Rocket and cannonball launcher, Energy dust gun with various dust crystal payloads, a LMG and a BIG FREAKING SIEGE GUN!