Omake Week 2018, Day 2: I find it entertaining that the actual producers of RWBY basically have their own omake collection in the form of RWBY Chibi. I suspect that has something to do with the slower pace of this collection compared to some of my others.

~X X X~

Snip.

The veil of sleep was like a warm, comforting blanket enveloping Yang Xiao Long's consciousness. All she wanted was to remain that way, but something teased at the back of her mind and wouldn't let her rest.

Snip.

It was a ringing sound, the scrape of metal on metal, and it intruded forcefully into Yang's slumbering will.

Snip.

There was a twisted wrongness to it, like the sickly-sweet odor of rotting meat, or the way a Grimm's black color wasn't just something dark but an unnatural slice carved out of the fabric of reality.

Snip.

She was panicking now, even while not yet awake enough to really understand why, just spurred on by her instincts into a desperate drive to shake off the weight of unconsciousness. It was a weight, too, a great, heavy, smothering blanket that kept her imprisoned away from the world, choking her off with the false reassurance that everything would be fine if she would just sleep…sleep…sleep…

Snip.

With a ferocious effort of will she tore herself awake, exploding back into consciousness as the shining scissors descended yet again towards her head. Acting on pure reflex she slapped the scissors aside, the blades chiming off her artificial right hand as they were torn from her assailant's grasp to go flying across the room, while her left hand locked around the Mistrali woman's throat. Yang's eyes were blazing sparks of red in the mirror as she hoisted the scissorwoman off the floor.

"What the hell were you doing to my hair!?" she roared.

"I…I was just trimming the split ends, honest!" the woman babbled.

Split ends?

The lingering fog of sleep cleared at last, opening up Yang's awareness and letting her recognize the hair salon her uncle had recommended.

Gently, she lowered the stylist to the floor.

"Um…sorry. I guess I'm still a little tightly wound after…" She held up her right hand and wiggled the prosthetic fingers.

"Oh, no, no, it's all right. You're from Vale, aren't you? I can only imagine what the Vytal Festival must have been like."

It was a good excuse…if one ignored the fact that she'd still had two natural hands the last time she'd fallen asleep in a stylist's chair. At least this time she hadn't broken a sink.

Over in the waiting area, Blake Belladonna did neither cats nor ninja any credit when she fell off her chair laughing.

"Fine, yuk it up," Yang sighed. "But if you breathe a word of this to Ruby or Qrow I'm cutting you off from tuna for a month!"