A/N: [CONNECTION ESTABLISHED]

GaryOkampo logging on...

It. Is. Here!

Yes my faithful friends, you have asked and you have received. Here comes the second volume.

Epsilon: 'Nuff said.

Warning- I do not own Red-VS-Blue, RWBY, or any of the characters. All is property of Roosterteeth.

Que: RVB OST- Fifty(by Trocadero)

Journal Entry 101

Subject: Recap

I know it's been a long time since I've done one of these, so….let's get this over with.

It all started with Project Freelancer, a military organization that was more than it seemed. The men in charge were corrupt and the soldiers who followed them were blind, and just guess whose side I was on. I was just a naive agent at the time who simply followed orders like the rest. That is until a "fateful" incident occurred. When I finally learned the truth, my entire world shattered. The people closest to me suddenly became my enemies and I was forced to flee from my home. I thought I couldn't believe in anyone anymore. But then, I met a man named Ozpin; the headmaster of a huntsmen academy called "Beacon". He offered me two choices: go to prison...or enroll into his school. I figured this was my chance to start over, as long as I got to work alone.

Sadly, that didn't last.

I was assigned to teams RWBY and JNPR, eight "gifted" teenagers who had the skills and training, but lack any real-life experience. Obviously I was hesitant to the idea and we...struggled to get along. Even now I'm still getting used to this whole teammate/friends thing.

Call it superstition or paranoia, but I have a feeling that we're going to need each other more than ever.

End: RVB OST- Fifty(by Trocadero)

City of Vale…

BANG!

Though the noise was muffled, anyone could tell that was the sound of a gunshot. With the fact that the very little people on the street didn't hear nor react to it, whoever pulled the trigger was either cunning or extremely lucky. The door to "Tukson's Book Trade" opened soon after, revealing a young man and woman leaving the establishment. The man, or rather boy since he was so young, had silver-gray hair and a similarly colored outfit with black greaves. The girl beside him had green hair and wore a surprisingly revealing outfit. Intel identified him as Mercury Black, the other was his partner, Emerald Sustrai.

The girl stretched her arms before looking at her co-hort, "What's with that?"

"Meh," Mercury shrugged as he continued to read the comic in his hand, "I like the pictures."

It was clear these two, despite their age, had no qualms with taking lives. That was what made them dangerous, as well as careless.

The two criminals casually walked away from the scene of the crime, failing to notice the figure watching them from the rooftops across the street. He was crouched low, in order to not be spotted by the two, though his armor did contrast with the black asphalt. Even if his organization and theirs have agreed to work together, there were still those who saw them as….untrustworthy. He touched the side of his helmet activating the silver visor to scan the two of them. Aside from the comic in the boy's hand, there was nothing else in their possession. The man sighed in disappointment, but then chuckled at their mistake. It was a clear sign that they went into the situation half-cocked. What'd you expect from children.

"It's me," he reported into the walkie-talkie attached to his right shoulder, "They don't have the package."

"..."

"Understood."

When the two of them eventually disappeared from his line of sight, he took it as his cue to clean up their mess. He stood up from his perch and began to stretch his own joints. Hands firmly placed at his hips as he marveled at the cityscape before flying into action.

Seeing a couple of teenagers with weapons enter a bookstore was strange, a fully armored soldier goes in soon after is just plain suspicious. He took a running start towards a cable that connected the rooftop he was on with the one across. As he leaped into the air, he used his pistol as a makeshift zipline until he rolled into his landing to keep his momentum. The stranger continued to vault over any chimneys or obstacles that stood in his path until his eyes laid on the ladder that led to the dumpsters behind the building. In one fluid motion, he vaulted over the railing and firmly planted his boots and gloves onto the sides and slid down till he reached the concrete.

Now he stood behind the back-door, a quick jerk at the knob revealing it was locked. Nothing that a good lock-pick wouldn't fix. Most would argue that kicking the door down was easier and much faster, but the man excelled at infiltration and stealth. Brute force just wasn't his style. Besides, he would finish by the time they would raise their boot.

The door slowly opened with a rusty creak, revealing the dimly lit back room. Four rows of shelves faced the double-doors that were swinging above a trail of crimson liquid. The man's eyes followed the path into the middle row of the shelves where he could hear the sounds of painful grunts. Clearly the traitor is quite skilled at playing dead. The soldier walked through the aisle parallel to the blood trail, knowing that he will soon cut him off. His eyes absently glanced at the hundreds of books that lined the shelves. Proof that the shop truly lived up to it's name, however the man wasn't here for a good read.

He eventually stood at the end of the middle row with his long shadow casting over the bleeding Faunus. The traitor was on his stomach, a hole in his chest and a pool of his own blood continuing to expand. Tukson just stared at the soldier in front him, looking over his navy blue armor. His expression transformed from worry to panic when he saw him reach for something behind his waist. The weapon quickly unfolded itself until it transformed into it's tomahawk form, the blade shining under the lamp light.

"Why hello there," the soldier cheerfully greeted.

The former White Fang's pants grew hoarse as he looked up at the assailant.

"My name is Butch Flowers. And this," the blue freelancer motioned towards his weapon, "Is my friend."

In one downward swipe….Tukson's Book Trade was put out of business.

Peaceful was the perfect word that described the atmosphere within the forest. Green leaves were falling from the branches and harmlessly onto the ground. Squirrels would innocently gather the nuts around them. However, their animal senses quickly picked-up the sounds of a creature that could squish them like insects. They only scurried away at the last second before meeting that fate.

The beowolf snarled as he ran through the forest, running for it's life as it toppled every tree and bush in it's path. It could only look back and see if it was still on the run. The pursuer was close, using his agility to evade any obstacles that blocked his way. The Grimm tackled a nearby tree, hoping to block the hunter's pursuit. Though it proved fruitless as he quickly vaulted over it and ran through the thicket. He had reached a clearing where his prey had somehow disappeared. Only a pair of prints in the center of the mud was his only clue. And the eerie silence enclosing them.

The huntsman-in-training traced the outline with his gloved hand.

"Deep impression," Wash scanned his surroundings for the Grimm, "It leapt into the trees in order to lose us. You getting anything?"

A sapphire hologram appeared above his shoulder, taking the form of a soldier in military armor of the same color.

"I'm programmed to fight people remember?" Epsilon replied rather frustrated, "I track electronic signatures, not soul-less monsters."

Wash quickly turned his head when the sounds of leaves fell to the ground, "I don't like it. Staying out here in the open like this."

"Good advice," the A.I.F. quipped, "You don't happen to have thermal vision goggles do ya?"

"No. I don't," the ex-Freelancer deadpanned, but then had an idea, "But I do have something else."

He flexed his left hand and placed it in the middle of the beowolf's print. He closed his eyes and focused his mind in order to pull off this technique. A whitish gray light began to outline his body as everything around him started to become more….clear. The sounds of leaves striking the ground, twigs cracking under someone's foot, and the snarls of a beowolf. Make that beowolves.

"I count five of them," Wash reported, "Three in the tree-line and two in the bushes."

"How can you be sure?"

The former Gulch soldier aimed his rifle towards the tree in front of him and fired a burst from his battle rifle. Birds flew away from the noise, along with the beowolf that fell onto the dirt…a bullet-hole between it's eyes.

"Show off," Epsilon grumbled.

The creatures of Grimm immediately leapt from their hiding places in order to surround their target. Demanding revenge for their fallen pack brother.

Wash slowly backed away, aiming his weapon at each monster to at least frighten them to back off. It was only temporary as the Grimm drew closer and closer.

"Great. Now we've got four angry beowolves who want to tear your guts out and drink out of your skull like a soup bowl," Epsilon looked around worried.

A booming thud resonated behind the ex-Freelancer and the fragment. Both looked back to find a beowolf much more taller than rest and with sharper teeth that were meant to tear off skin.

"Okay scratch that," the sapphire A.I.F. deadpanned, "Four angry beowolves and an alpha that want to kill you. Any ideas?"

"Just one," Wash simply took out a spike grenade.

Epsilon looked at the hand-held explosive, "...Bet you can't stick it."

The huntsman-trainee pulled the pin at the challenge, "You're on."

One of the beowolves leaped forward but was then met with three rounds to the chest and then one to the head. The body skidded forward which Wash leaped over and threw the grenade. The bladed sides were firmly planted into one of the grimm's eyes, exploding soon after. Another made a swipe with it's claws which Wash evaded with a dodge-roll. A few blasts from his battle rifle caused the creature to fall back stunned which gave Wash enough time to kick it to the ground. Another round to the skull for good measure.

"On your left!" Epsilon warned.

But it was too late as Wash felt himself flying through the air and into a tree trunk. The ex-Freelancer quickly shook himself out of his daze and saw the remaining monsters prepare to attack. Wash pulled another spike grenade and planted it into the trunk behind him when he saw one of the Grimm charge. He used the handle to pull himself up just before the beowolf's skull collided with the hardwood, leaving a small crater in the tree. He then rolled off the monster's back and cleared the blast area before the explosion killed the Grimm.

The eight-foot-tall Grimm was the only one left standing as it encircled it's prey. Snarls emanated from it's fangs before charging towards the huntsman-trainee, fully prepared to tear him to shreds. It did a low swipe with it's claws which Wash dove over to avoid it's path. The alpha beowolf prepared to slash again but was met with the rifle-butt striking it's bone-like mask. Wash used that moment as his chance to quickly draw his magnum and fire it point blank between it's glowing red eyes.

The beast fell onto the ground with a thud, the body disintegrating like it's pack surrounding it.

"Good job," Epsilon appeared next to his partner, bringing up different screens as he made calculations, "Sure there were a few bumps, but you killed them all. And you didn't lose your weapon this time."

"I should have been able to detect that alpha," Wash holstered his sidearm and flexed his hand, "Let's do it again, try to get the hang of this Aura thing."

"And you will, but you need a break."

"I can still keep going," the huntsman trainee jerked his head.

"We've done this three times already," Epsilon then brought up a screen displaying his partner's health and the time, "Besides, the others are waiting in the cafeteria."

"Just one more-."

"Wash," the sapphire A.I.F.'s tone hardened.

"...Okay," he rubbed his eyes to wipe away the exhaustion, "I could use a break."

"There we go," Epsilon snapped his fingers.

The corpses and environment transformed into pixels before they collapsed into the floor. Soon the forest was replaced with the metal and concrete walls of the amphitheater. As if no signs or evidence of a battle just recently took place.

"So," Wash looked at his holographic partner, "What's for lunch?"

Changing out of his combat attire and into his school uniform was simple enough. It was the walk towards the cafeteria that was the hard part. Wash fervently scanned his surroundings, keeping track of every little thing. So far he had mostly seen Beacon students and a couple of the exchange students from the other kingdoms. Most of them ignored his presence, but he still noticed the ones who were either brave or bold enough to whisper behind his back. It was understandable since he had gained a bit of a reputation. The mysterious student who never showed his face, being the only times he ever "expressed" himself was when he slammed a student's face into his lunch and sending another to the hospital after nearly beating him to death. Granted that both of his victims were school thugs, you couldn't blame the others to be a bit cautious around him. Of course none of this bothered the ex-Freelancer.

It was another group of students he was concerned about.

"Is it me Wash," Epsilon mentally asked him, "Or have you become even more paranoid after the others knows who we are?"

"Just because we made peace with them, doesn't mean we're still fugitives," Wash looked off into the distance, "And we have to be careful now more than ever."

"Normally I would say that you're being overly suspicious or just being an asshole. But," the A.I.F. followed his gaze.

Both Gulch natives stared at the two Gulch military hover-carriers stationed at Beacon's airdock. Though Wash was surprised that there hasn't been much improvements to the ship's design since he left. He had Epsilon make scans of the layout the second they landed and so far it wasn't that different from the "Mother of Invention". The only changes was that it's computer systems were more updated and the anti-aircraft guns and weapon were newer models. Once you were chosen as it's target, you're already dead.

Something the ex-Freelancer obviously wanted to avoid.

"...I guess you're sort of right."

"Let's just get inside before they spot us."

After finally arriving, Wash was greeted by a fully packed mess hall. Much to his chagrin. Of course it wasn't that hard to find his table of friends. Weiss, Blake, and Yang were sitting at one table while Jaune and his team were sitting at the one parallel to them. Currently Nora was flinging grapes with a spoon towards Yang who successfully caught each of them with her mouth.

The blonde huntress spotted their ninth member and happily waved him over.

"Sup Wash," Yang greeted.

"Hey," the ex-Freelancer replied with an exhausted sigh as he took a seat across from them.

"What's wrong with you?" Blake asked.

"Nothing," he grabbed a chicken nugget from the tray in front him, ignoring Weiss' protest, "Just….a little tired."

"He means that he's been trying to keep a low profile," Epsilon appeared on the table.

"From what?" Yang looked at him worried.

The doors to the cafeteria were slammed open, grabbing everyone's attention. Standing in the doorway were three Gulch huntsmen-recruits. Everyone had there apprehensive gazes locked onto the group of armored soldiers as they too looked over the faces of the students. Both were the first of their kind to make eye contact in years. Though the Beacon students were unable to look through the Gulch students' visors. Eventually they made their way to the cafeteria line with the students getting out of their path. Wash, especially, lowered the bill of his ballcap so that they wouldn't notice him. No one said anything as they silently grabbed their food, paid for it, and left.

As soon as the doors were closed, the Beacon students murmured to each other over what had just occurred until the volume in the cafeteria returned to normal.

"From them," Wash finally answered.

"Ever since the Gulch students showed up," Epsilon explained, "Wash has been more on edge as if the Meta just enrolled into the school. Seriously, he's checks his locks six times and sleeps with his pistol next to his bed," the A.I.F. glanced at his partner, "That's unhealthy….and kinda creepy."

"I think you should see a professional," Weiss stated boldly.

"That's too bad," Wash dryly chuckled, "My old job had great mental health coverage."

"Well at least you got a sense of humor," Yang stated at her friend with straight face, but then asked, "Hey do you mind me asking?"

"About what?"

"What's with the whole 'armor' thing?"

"What do you mean?" Wash took a quick bite of the nugget, "Soldiers are supposed to wear armor."

"Yeah, but all the time?" Weiss asked this time, "Nobody has seen their faces, not even once."

"And have you seen the way they talk to each other," Yang added, "It looks like a bunch of helmets moving up and down."

"Well wearing the armor often is normal," Wash swallowed his nugget before continuing, "It helped so much during the Great War that it sort of became our uniform. We're trained to wear it for extended periods of time since we'll never know when there will be another mission or how long it'll last. Even I had trouble getting used to not having my entire body covered in at least kevlar the first time around."

"Is that why your attire resembles your armor?" Blake questioned.

"More or less," Wash shrugged, taking a sip from the soda he bought.

Yang looked at the former soldier with a smirk, "But don't you ever feel like you just want to, ya know….take it off?"

The ex-freelancer frowned at the attempted double-entendre, "It's not like we wear it twenty-four-seven, we've got clothes for formal events and those with higher ranks usually don't wear their armor."

"Then what about the color scheme," Yang leaned back slightly, trying to take in what she just heard, "I'm no military expert but I'm sure red, blue, or even orange doesn't make the best camouflage."

"We have a standard set for trainees and regular grunts. But with the improvements in technology and different companies making new armor sets, a lot of the younger soldiers got….rebellious. They say it helps make them unique and so many recruits adopted the idea that the military eventually allowed it. To an extent."

"So you picked your own colors too?"

"Yeah, after we graduate from the academy, the class goes to the armory to customize their loadout."

"Huh," Yang's face then had a look of pride on it.

"W-What?" Wash looked at the fellow blonde confused.

"This is the first time we've had an actual chat with you," she smiled, "Usually you stay on the side lines and be all mopey."

"Since when am I mopey!?" the ex-Freelancer blushed.

"You mean besides every other hour?" Epsilon sarcastically asked.

Yang chuckled at Wash's embarrassed expression. She was glad that he had lighten up these past few days. With them now knowing about his past, he has been less distant to the group. He still found it difficult to talk about his time at Project Freelancer, and only she knew more than the others. Even so, the ex-Freelancer was growing to be a real member of the team.

WHAM!

Everyone suddenly turned their heads towards the massive white binder that landed at the end of the table. The mere size and amount of pages would put the thickest encylopedia to shame. On the cover was a label with the title "Vytal Festival Activities: Property of Weiss Schnee". Though the text was crossed out with red marker and was given a new name below it.

Epsilon teleported onto the cover and read, "'Best Day Ever Activities'?"

The sound of someone dramatically clearing their throat had brought everyone's attention towards their team leader.

Ruby announced and motioned to the different people at the tables, "Sisters! Friends! Weiss."

"Hey!" the heiress whined.

"Four score and seven minutes ago: I. Had. A dream!"

"This ought to be good," Yang glanced at her partner before catching a raspberry.

Ruby simply continued, "A dream that one day where all of us, as a team, come together and have the most fun anyone's ever had….EVER!"

"Did you steal my binder?" Weiss glared, ignoring her crimson partner's antics.

Ruby responded by making peace signs with both hands and stated, "I am not a crook."

"What are you talking about?" Blake asked, slightly curious.

"I'm talking about kicking off the semester with a bang!" the scythe-wielder pointed at the Faunus.

"Oh no," Wash pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"I always like to start off my semesters with a Yang," the blonde boxer quipped.

The two teams immediately lowered their heads and/or groaned at another of her puns.

"Eh? Guys?" Yang looked at the others to see their reaction, "Am I right?"

"BOOOoooo!" Nora shouted, throwing an apple that lightly bumped off the blonde's face, earning the hammer girl an annoyed glare.

Ruby resumed explaining her plans for the team, "Look guys, it's been a good two weeks and between more exchange students arriving and the tournament at the end of the year, our second semester is going to be great! But, classes start back up tomorrow," her voice then becomes more cheerful, "Which is why I've taken the time to schedule a series of wonderful events for us today."

Weiss looked at her partner skeptically, "I don't know if I should be proud or scared of what you have in store for us."

"How about worried?" Epsilon appeared in front of the heiress, "Worried seems like a good middle ground."

Yang, not paying attention to the conversation, throws her own apple which Wash marginally tilts his head to dodge it. Apparently she missed since he heard a random student complain when he suddenly felt a fruit strike the back of his head.

"I don't know," Blake looked at her teammates, "I think….I think I might sit this one out."

"Sit out or not," Weiss, surprisingly, agreed with her team leader, "I think that however we spend this last day. We should do it as a team."

Wash then noticed Yang was fervently waving her hands as she tried to stop Nora from doing something.

The heiress didn't seem to notice as she stood up and continued, "I for one think-."

She was then abruptly interrupted by a pie landing on her face. The members of team RWBY and the former freelancer looked towards the guilty party who hurriedly returned to her seat and pointed towards her partner Ren, his face buried into the palm of his hand. Wash and Epsilon glanced back and forth between the two teams. One thing that caught their attention was a certain heiress' expression, covered in whipped cream….and a twitchy eye.

"Um…," the A.I.F. glanced at Wash, "You might wanna take cover."

5 Seconds Later...

The moment of retaliation was the moment she started laughing maniacally. Which everyone knew was the time to drop what they were doing and run. Beacon students frantically tried to escape the mess hall as they fully understood what happens when the infamous Nora Valkyrie finds something fun to do. Atop her pile of tables, she overlooked the disorganized eating area with a smile.

"AHAHAHAHA!" the hammer girl began to sing, "I'm queen of the castle~. I'm queen of the castle~."

Ruby then stomps onto an overturned table and dramatically pointed, "Justice will be swift! Justice will be painful!" she crushed the milk carton in her hand, spraying it's contents everywhere, "IT WILL BE DELICIOUS!"

The rest of her teammates rallied behind her, "YEAH!"

As the food started flying, Washington dove back behind the table he was using for cover.

"What the hell are you doing man!?" Epsilon asked excitedly, "Jump on in!"

"I prefer keeping my uniform clean," the ex-Freelancer deadpanned.

"You're no fun," the A.I.F. huffed before he vanished.

"Hey Wash!"

The huntsman-trainee in question turned his head and found a familiar monkey faunus dive right next to him.

"Sun?"

"The one and only," he smirked.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was planning to introduce everyone to my friend," Sun motioned to a young man with blue hair next to him, "Neptune. Wash. Wash. Neptune."

"Sup," he greeted.

Wash only nodded.

"So what's going on here?" Sun looked over the edge of the table.

"Isn't it obvious," Wash examined what looked more like a food "war" rather than a food "fight".

"Looks fun, aren't you joining?"

"No thanks," he rolled his eyes, "Besides I don't think food fights are supposed to be this…."

The ex-Freelancer motioned towards the sight of Ruby cradling an unconscious Weiss who was thrown into a pillar.

"Weiss, Weiss!" the red huntress acted as if her partner just died, "Don't leave me!"

The pillar crumbled behind them, emphasizing the "heart-breaking" scene before the three viewers.

"NOOOOO!" Ruby dramatically cried before dropping the heiress to the ground and rejoin the others.

"...Intense," Wash finished his comment.

"Pffft," Sun absentmindedly waved his hand, "Why let that stop you? Come on man, haven't you been in a food fight before?"

"I have," the ex-Freelancer protested, "It's just…."

Many years ago….

Carolina stood in the doorway of the mess hall with an aura of anger and disappointment surrounding her….but mostly anger. A-squad's leader looked over what was once a clean and organized mess hall, but had become a culinary warzone. Foods of different kinds were scattered about along with a fair amount sticking to the walls and even the ceiling. In the center were those responsible. North and South were on one side of the room, taking cover behind a flipped table as they threw what looked like mashed potatoes at the "enemy". York and Wash stood behind some pillars, the tan freelancer holding a banana like a pistol and the rookie with pudding cups. Eventually, all four of them froze when they saw their CO with her hands balled on her waist and looking very un-happy.

"What. Is going on. Here?" Carolina growled, her patience thinning fast.

"Uuuhhh," York nervously laughed, "It's probably what it looks like."

"Wash started it!" South pointed an accusing finger.

"What!?" the young agent shrieked, "No I didn't!"

"Twenty laps around the airfield!" the cyan freelancer ordered.

"But Boss-."

"Twenty laps and two-hundred pushups for every set," Carolina added to their punishment, "NOW!"

"But-!"

"NOWWWWWW!"

Present Day….

"Let's just say the punishment isn't worth it," Wash shuddered at the memory.

"...You are one cryptic dude," Sun blankly stated, "You know that, right?"

"Uh, guys," Neptune asked the others to get their attention, "Is it me….or is there a draft?"

Both the ex-Freelancer and Faunus delinquent looked at the man confused until they too started to feel it. They began to feel the air pushing against their faces until a flash of red rocketed passed them.

"Woah!" Sun tried to follow, "What the-!"

"Oh no," Wash looked in horror.

The three young men's faces paled when they saw what was in front of them. It was an impossible phenomena, but there it was, a whirlwind of food and sodas heading straight towards them.

"Get down!" Wash yelled as he ducked behind the table.

Sun did the same, assuming Neptune followed suit.

For five seconds it was as if a hurricane was occurring inside the cafeteria. The three huntsmen-trainees could hear plates and utensils clatter against any and every hard surface, along with the splatters of delectables. Soon the wind died down and they looked over the carnage. Both the tables and benches were pushed to the side with dishes either chipped or shattered throughout the hall.

And where was the food?

At the far end of the room was could only be described as a massive poster of everyone's spoiled and mangled lunch. That also just so happened to have four human-sized outlines in the center.

Wash looked on with more awe than horror at the aftermath. He couldn't help but wonder if this is what is considered a "normal" encounter to foreigners. Or maybe this was how teams RWBY and JNPR made things more exciting.

Sun looked at his partner with a smile on his face, "I love these guys."

Neptune simply had a frown on his face, angered that his freshly cleaned outfit and stylized blue hair were now covered in what looked like grape-juice.

"It's going to take some time to clean this up," Wash sighed, knowing that somehow he'll be dragged into this.

"Well at least none of the staff is here," Epsilon mentally stated with confidence.

The double doors to the mess hall were slammed open again and in came Professor Goodwitch, teeth gritted and growling in annoyance. She even had that same look that Carolina had when she caught Wash in his first food fight.

"And I spoke too soon."

The huntress stomped past the three onlookers and immediately waved her riding crop. The sound of what seemed like a bell resonated throughout the room as tables, chairs, utensils, and anything else that lay scattered; was lifted telepathically and placed back where they originally were. In a matter of seconds the cafeteria was back to normal. Minus the food on the walls, the floor, the hole in the ceiling, and the students dressed in stained uniforms.

"Children," Goodwitch pushed up her glasses threateningly, "Might I ask why there was a crater in the wall."

The perpetrators either looked away nervously or whistled trying to play innocent. Nora casually belching and a certain blonde falling through the roof didn't help their situation.

"Washington," the mage-huntress growled through her teeth.

"Y-Yes ma'm," the ex-Freelancer straightened his body as if he was ordered by his CO.

"I demand an explanation."

Wash quickly stepped forward, "Well, you see this all-WOAH!"

His vision went blurry, if only briefly, when he felt his body make contact with the tiled floor. He quickly shook his head and found Goodwitch staring down at him more enraged than ever. A confused expression was on the huntsman-trainee's face until he could hear snickering behind the professor. His teammates were trying to suppress their laughter, Nora too, though she looked like she was going to burst at any second. Wash stared at them confused until he saw a banana peel lying comfortably atop the mage-huntress' head.

"Holy shit dude!" Sun hunched over laughing, "You slipped on a banana peel, I didn't think that was-!"

It only took one look from Goodwitch to make the monkey Faunus shut-up and stand straight.

"I think we've all had our fill of flying food for one day," a new voice entered the room.

Everyone turned towards the entrance and saw Headmaster Ozpin with a smile on his face.

"Professor Ozpin," Goodwitch quickly swatted away the banana peel, "I was just about to deliver a week's worth of detention."

Both teams groaned at the sound of their punishment. Beacon's headmaster looked over his student's distraught faces and motioned his assistant to come to him. Wash propped himself up when he saw a hand reach out for him.

"You okay?" Yang smirked.

The ex-freelancer shook his head and accepted the gesture, "I think I should be asking you that. Did you really just fly through the roof and back down without so much as a scratch?"

"Hey," the blonde confidently dusted herself off, "I'm tougher than I look."

"That can't be normal," he scoffed.

"Says the guy with a computer program installed into his brain," Yang tapped the side of her head.

"Neither is using turkeys as boxing gloves," Wash argued with his own smirk, crossing his arms.

"Now you gotta admit," the blonde boxer smugly placed her hands behind her head, "That was pretty cool."

The two friends heard a frustrated groan and saw Professor Goodwitch storm off out of the cafeteria. Ozpin had a victorious smile on his face and approached the group of students.

"I've worked things out with Goodwitch," he announced to them, "None of you will be getting detention."

They all let out a cheer until-.

"However," the headmaster quickly interrupted, "I saved you from detention, but that doesn't mean you go off unpunished," he then pointed towards the kitchen area, "You'll find mops and buckets over there."

A mixture of frustrated "aww"s and whines emanated from the two teams as they begun their assignment.

Wash was about to walk off too until he heard Ozpin call his name, "Washington, may I speak to you for a moment?"

The ex-freelancer nodded when he and the headmaster were the only ones left.

"Is something the matter?" the ex-freelancer asked.

"Just a curiosity really," Ozpin narrowed his eyes, "Why didn't you join in with them?"

Wash sighed when he heard the question for the third time, "I think I'm a bit old to do food fights."

The headmaster chuckled at his response, "Come now. You sound like you are in your late thirties rather than a teenager."

Wash frowned at the joke.

"You know, despite your experiences, you yourself are still a child," Ozpin lectured.

"I came here to be huntsmen….like my teammates," the ex-Freelancer scoffed, "Not play around."

"True," the headmaster nodded, "But there is no harm in having fun once in awhile. Remember, I said that was the only the first step."

Wash stared at the man confused until he remembered, "...Regaining my humanity."

"And that means embracing who you are."

There was a brief silence between them until Ozpin decided to take his leave, but not before lending one last piece of advice.

"Make sure you help them out with the clean-up," he ordered, not even looking back, "After all, a good friend should always be ready to lend a hand."

When the doors were closed, Wash found himself staring at them for quite some time.

Epsilon then formed on his shoulder, "What'd you think he meant by that?"

"...No idea."

The warehouse district….

During an alliance, it is important that there be some semblance of trust. Or at least pretend too. That was the mission the Director assigned him: stay on their newfound allies good side by whatever means….for now. Yet it seems Project Freelancer is not the only one who was having trust issues. Agent Florida had to stay in the shadows of the warehouse, making sure not to be noticed by the White Fang soldiers who were hard at work. He had no qualms working with them. Orders are orders. However, only a select few of the faunus extremists knew that they were allied with the ones who killed many of their members. Even so, it was best to play along as one of the foreign mercenaries they've hired.

The blue freelancer kneeled atop a shipping crate while observing what seemed to be fighting amongst the ranks. Emerald and Mercury had returned only a few minutes ago and they were already butting heads with Roman Torchwick, their supplier. Apparently the two young criminals took it upon themselves to take care of Tukson the turncoat. But Roman is the kind of man who doesn't like being kept in the dark, as well as being lectured by some arrogant street kids.

"I had that under control," the infamous criminal growled.

Mercury stated back with confidence, "Two packed bags and a ticket out of Vale said otherwise."

"Listen here you little punk!" Roman jabbed his finger, "If it were up to me, I would take you and your little street rat friend and I would-!"

"Do what, Roman?"

Her voice echoed throughout the building causing the three, Florida guessed he would call them her "lieutenants", to freeze up. The sounds of her heels colliding against metal revealed that she strode on the catwalk above them and onto a lift that lowered her to the ground. Everyone just continued to look at the woman with a mixture of fear and respect.

Roman nervously chuckled, "I'd….uhm….not kill them?"

The way he reacted showed that he was the only one who feared her. It was fascinating at how much power she carried despite her age.

"Cinder!" Emerald eagerly approached her idol.

However the dust witch coldly brushed her off, continuing her approach on Roman, "I thought I made it clear for you to eliminate the would-be runaway."

"I was going to….," the criminal "mastermind" tried to come up with an excuse.

"He was going to leave for Vacuo!" Emerald quickly interjected, "Mercury and I took it upon ourselves to kill the rat."

"I think he was some kind of cat actually," her partner corrected.

"What?" she laughed, "Like a puma?"

"Yeah, that," Mercury shrugged.

"Quiet!" Cinder glared at the two of them, "Did I not specifically tell you two to keep your hands clean while in Vale?"

Unbeknownst to her that Roman was taunting the two kids who were being lectured.

Emerald anxiously scratched the top her head, trying to hide behind her bangs, "I just thought-."

"Don't think," the dust witch cut her off, "Obey."

"...Yes ma'm," she apologized, "It won't happen again."

"Did you at least take back the equipment he stole?" Cinder asked.

"Umm," Emerald nervously glanced at Mercury who was similarly confused, "What equipment?"

It was here that Cinder's expression darkened, "Don't tell me," her heels clicked against the floor as she dangerously strode towards them, "That you not only disobeyed my orders, went out in broad daylight, killed a man, left the scene of the crime, came back here," her eyes then glowed threateningly, "And you didn't even try to cover it up!"

The two young killers nervously took a step back. It seemed now was a good time to fulfill his objective.

"Ahem," Florida cleared his throat in order to announce himself to the room.

He leaped down from his perch, grabbing everyone's attention, "Now now. There's no need to be mad at the kids."

"Agent Florida," Cinder narrowed her eyes at the blue freelancer, "Finally decided to join us I see."

Her eyes were still glowing, perhaps that was what revealed his position. Either that or the woman had keen instincts.

"Have you come here empty handed as well?" she asked again.

"Quite the opposite actually," Flowers approached her, unafraid of the woman in front of him.

He then took out the healing unit, bowing his head and body as if he was giving her a bouquet.

Cinder stared at the strange gesture, but eventually took the equipment, "Where did you find this?"

"In the backroom of the shop," he reported, "Apparently Tucson, that little rascal, was also part possum. I found him crawling towards the cupboard where he stashed it."

"Was he now?" the dust witch glanced back at her two subordinates, another failure added to their list.

"Rest assured, I took care of it," Florida calmly raised his hands, "Finished him off and made it look like a hate crime. That should get you some more….'enlistees'."

"Why thank you," Cinder smirked, "Glad to see their is at least someone capable of getting results."

The blue freelancer briefly saw the annoyed growls emanating from Emerald. She didn't seem the kind of girl you would find amongst these kind of people. Mercury most likely, but her? The young thief had no qualms with taking a life, but there was still that flicker of innocence in her eyes, even if it was just a smudge. It was almost kind of cute whenever she got angry.

"Which now brings me to my next complaint," Cinder then looked back at Roman, "Why wasn't this job done sooner?"

"Uuuhhmm," the infamous criminal scoffed, "Eh?" he motioned at a small pile of boxes, "Uh?" then to a rack of another set of boxes, "UHHHHH!?" he then dramatically spread his arms, showing the shipping crates behind him….all filled with Dust.

"Sorry~," Roman let out a sarcastic apology, "But I've been little busy robbing every spec of Dust in the kingdom."

Mercury replied with sarcastic praise, "You're an inspiration to every thief who wears stockings on their heads."

"To be fair," Agent Florida approached Roman and put a hand on his shoulder, "Not just anyone can pull off jobs like these. Especially in the span of a few weeks."

"I like this guy," the infamous criminal pointed with his cane and looked at everyone with a confident smile, "Because of me I've got this town running scared, police are spread thin, Dust prices at an all time high, and….," he turned towards the spoils from each of his heists, "We're sitting in an abandoned warehouse with more Dust crystals, vials, and rounds than we know what to do with."

"Speaking of which," Roman looked back at his employers, "If you wouldn't mind filling me in on your grand master plan, it might make my next jobs go a little smoother."

The last words were stated with clenched fists and a bitter tone. The man was still frustrated over failing the past mission that was foiled by the killer mute.

"Oh Roman, have a little faith," Cinder walked towards him with feigned sincerity before she lightly traced his jawline with her fingers, "You'll know what you need when you need to know."

Florida could see the way her eyes glowed an undeterminable gaze covered by a smile. Though one word could describe that look perfectly: dangerous.

Roman reluctantly huffed in compliance.

"Besides," her eyes returned to normal, "We're done with Dust."

The criminal looked at her confused, "Okay, so what now?"

"We're moving," she commanded, walking towards the entrance as she absentmindedly handed Mercury the healing unit, "Have the White Fang clear out this building. I'll send you details and coordinates tonight."

"Coordinates?"

Cinder looked at her underlings with a smile, "We're proceeding to phase two."

She walked off with Mercury, Emerald, and Florida at her heel. Roman just stared at the woman, feeling that a quick smoke was the break he needed. He looked through his pockets until he realized his favorite lighter was gone. The familiar sound of it igniting brought his attention towards Emerald as she immaturely stuck her tongue at him.

"Emerald!" Cinder ordered the girl to follow.

The master thief did so after tossing back the lighter to an annoyed Roman.

"I want you and Mercury to make the final preparations and wait for me at the dropship."

"What about you?" she asked.

"Agent Florida and I…," the dust witch glanced at the freelancer, "Have some things to discuss."

Emerald casted an obviously disgruntled glare towards the foreign agent.

"I expect you to obey me this time," Cinder narrowed her eyes, not even needing the glow to send the message.

"...Yes ma'm," she hesitantly bowed.

When the two finally made it to the dropship, both parties could finally get down to business.

"Honestly," Cinder let out frustrated sigh, "Give them a gun and suddenly they think they can take on the whole world."

"That's teenagers for you," Flowers defended the two kids, "Hormones and firepower usually don't mix well."

"I sometimes wish that they grow up already, but onto more important things," she placed two fingers on her temple, fighting the urge to rub it before looking at the freelancer, "Where is the Director?"

Florida could feel his body tense under his armor when he heard the question. This was the time when the friendly neighbor facade takes a break.

"I'm sorry, but he has moved to a new location," he replied, "It's classified."

"Really now? I was afraid your Director had run off after that….what did you call him?" Cinder placed a finger on her chin, acting like she had forgotten, "The 'Meta', is it? After he thwarted the heist at the docks, he and your superior then disappear off the map soon after," a look of suspicion then covered her face, "And then you come in a few days later as a 'liaison' between our organizations."

"He is a busy man," Florida placed his hands on his hips, not even bothered by her questioning, "We still provide military assistance and new prototypes. And rest assured, our best agent is tracking down the Meta as we speak."

"That is good to hear, though forgive me for having a lack of faith," a knowing smile appeared, "From what I hear….there aren't that many of you left."

The blue freelancer chuckled, "You make it sound like we're a dying race."

"It seems fitting," Cinder turned away and walked towards an open crate, glancing over the Dust crystals that were neatly packed, "Your country may be isolated, but I've heard my fair share of stories about you and your people," her hand glided over the many different colored shards, "They say every citizen is required to serve in the military. Some say it only lasts a few years, others say it's indefinite, or until you die. Makes no difference to me, an army is only as powerful as it's numbers. But," she grabbed a turquoise crystal and held it up in the moonlight, "It's the unique ones that interest me. The ones who shine brighter than the pebbles who surround them. Soldiers like you freelancers."

Florida narrowed his eyes under his visor. The woman was truly an enigma; her goals, her ideals, a part of him even started to doubt if Cinder was even her real name. He couldn't really describe it. There was just something about her aura. Not that light show whenever she used her powers, but the atmosphere that surrounded her. A "predatory élégance" is what he called it. It was something he respected, yet also made him cautious.

"The Director will ensure Project Freelancer holds up it's end of the bargain," the blue freelancer assured her, trying to stay on topic, "Provided you hold up yours."

"But of course," Cinder placed the crystal back where it was, "Even so, as a sign of good faith. Can you relay a message to your superior for me?"

"And what would that be?"

"Some words of advice," she looked back at him with a devious smile, "Don't make a girl a promise….if you know you can't keep it."

Florida's eyes widened when he heard the famous saying.

"H-How do you-?"

"Like I said before Agent Florida," she returned to the dropship where the others are waiting for her, "I've heard my fair share of stories."

The blue freelancer looked up as the ship fly into the night sky, thankful that his helmet was covering his shocked expression. He was starting to understand why Project Freelancer didn't fully trust this woman. She wasn't just dangerous….but a complete mystery.

A/N: Hope you all enjoy this holiday gift and expect more upon the new year. Checkout my other stories and let me know what you think in a review.

Epsilon-Merry Christmas to all!

Santa-And to all a good night...you feeble human creatures.

Dammit! Just how many more of you are there!?

GaryOkampo logging off...

[CONNECTION TERMINATED]