Homeless Bunny 41
Tianyu Yue
Time passed and the end of the semester approached. I spent most of my days cooking and training the twins. And to their credit, they finally discovered their Semblances.
It happened in a particularly chaotic skirmish. Team CFVY headed off on another mission assigned to second years–a caravan escort mission this time–so I decided to make up the numbers with bunnies. A lot more bunnies. Sixteen freshly anointed members of the Moonlit Famiglia, to be exact.
The inclusion of four teams worth of huntsman-level magic bunnies was too much. Everyone suffered; not even Amber was spared when Soldato Snickerdoodle, a witch-themed bunny, rode her carrot into the air like a broomstick. The two engaged in a dogfight, Amber with her lightning, ice, and wind blades and Snickerdoodle with suspiciously magic-resistant, explosive carrot-ballistics.
That day, the whole group mutinied. Such was their sulking that I made them a promise. Never again would I drown them in a tide of bunnies.
From that day forth, bunny hit squads were limited to a single fighting pair in our training sessions. And, much as Noah received the rainbow, they received the nine vegetable terrine, a rainbow of colors and flavors first crafted by a treasured friend from a century ago.
As chaotic as that session had been, it had been the impetus needed for the twins to finally take the next step.
Melanie’s gouquan, dog style, was a grounded martial art. She was the rock, the perch from which her sister soared. When they were separated and picked apart one too many times, she lashed out in a storm of aura.
Every step rippled as though she was on the surface of a lake. Except rather than ripples of water, her footsteps scattered spiderwebs of aura. Though the webs were not truly solid, they marked out her territory. Within it, everyone who touched the ground slowed to a crawl, with one obvious exception.
Miltia was the eagle that soared from her sister’s perch. Not only was she immune to the slowing effect of her sister’s Semblance, her speed rose drastically when she ran along the threads of the web. When she followed a thread, she became almost as fast as Ruby, though it also made her somewhat predictable.
Miltia’s Semblance was all about mobility and picking apart the opponent’s vitals. She formed a telepathic link with her twin, allowing them to share their senses and guide one another no matter how far she roamed. In this way, their teamwork became even more refined.
We celebrated with a giant hotpot party, something the twins hadn’t had many chances to enjoy since leaving Mistral. The twins got to have authentic baiju brewed by Chang’e, albeit watered down for their mortal palates. That didn’t stop them from getting utterly sloshed, of course.
They spent half the evening trying to hook Ilia up with her crush, saying something about how her pining made their drinks taste sour. Ilia didn’t appreciate it, especially when Melanie asked if Blake had multiple sets of nipples to go with the cat ears. How that was supposed to help the chameleon-girl’s case, I had no clue, but it was funny and that’s what really mattered.
They then got into an argument over which of them could drink more baiju. That started a drinking contest that pulled in Yang and Ren. Normally, I would have been quite miffed to have Chang’e’s treasured brew consumed like this–it was a treasure to be sipped and savored–but I allowed the discourtesy for a single night.
The winner was Miltia, but only by half a cup over her sister. She took a sip and slipped the rest to me so she could pretend she’d finished it all. She did a victory dance that I was pretty sure was meant to be sexy but actually made her look like a gawky chicken.
Melanie joined her, but their coordination had long since exited stage left. They collided with each other and started a catfight. Amber tried to break them up, but the twins chose that moment to decide they’d had enough and barfed the evening’s contents down the Maiden’s shirt.
A storm raged that night, severe enough to trigger a kingdom-wide flash flood warning. The Vale Weather Institute called it a “freak meteorological phenomenon.” We called it a pissed off Fall Maiden.
Through it all, I cackled long and loud. I cheered on their antics and kept everyone’s cups full. It wasn’t just a celebration of the twins’ new Semblances. It was a party meant to close out the semester.
X
I set the breakfast table. Twelve servings of loco moco and ten sizable glasses of bloody caesar to accompany them. This wasn’t the breakfast they were used to, but given the sheer amount of booze they drank last night, this was the breakfast they needed.
Unsurprisingly, it was Amber, Pyrrha, and Ruby who found me first. The former two had incredible self-discipline and Ruby had taken one sip of baiju and declared it “icky.” Thus, neither she nor I needed the hangover cure. I made the little reaper a strawberry milkshake so she could join the festivities.
“Good morning, you three,” I called as I slid the last of the silverware into place. “How did you sleep?”
“Not as well as everyone else, but I think we’ll have a much easier time waking up,” Amber said with a vindictive chuckle. She’d liked that shirt. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Loco moco, with a glass of bloody caesar if you feel like you need the hangover cure,” I said blithely. “Loco moco is rice, hamburger patty, and a sunnyside egg, all lathered with gravy. It’s not the healthiest, but I think you can afford to treat yourselves.”
“Ooh, nice! It looks pretty much like a farmhouse classic, but with rice instead of potatoes.”
“The rice plays differently with the gravy. Unlike most potato dishes, plain white rice is unseasoned so it acts as a perfect neutral base for the rest of the food. That, and the mouthfeel. Try it, you’ll find that even familiar ingredients taste different when eaten with rice.”
“Thanks, don’t mind if I do,” she said, taking a seat. She eyed the glass of orange-red liquid. “You’re not going to be upset if I don’t drink this, are you?”
I waved her off. “Nah, that’s just a Canadian hangover cure. It’s a riff on a bloody mary, but definitely an acquired taste.”
Pyrrha picked up her glass and swirled the liquid around. “What’s in it? It smells… interesting.”
“Vodka, two-thirds portion of vodka as tomato juice, one-third portion of vodka as clam juice, two dashes of Worcestershire and Tabasco hot sauces each, and a bit of grated horseradish to clear your sinuses. Oh, and celery salt along the rim for flair.”
“That does not sound like a drink anyone would take voluntarily.”
“It’s a hangover cure. I can guarantee it works.”
She considered how badly her head hurt, then decided she could live with it. She slid the glass towards me. “I’ll pass as well, thanks.”
I shrugged and handed Ruby two frying pans to bang together. “That’s fine. Ruby, can you go get everyone up? Tell them that if I have to come get them, they’ll wish they actually drank themselves into a coma.”
“Okay!” she chirped before zipping off in a flutter of rose petals.
“That’s cruel,” Amber said nonchalantly.
I poured her a cup of warm milk, something she took with a grateful smile. “And?”
“Just an observation,” she smiled. “I know how you feel about letting food get cold.”
We shot the breeze as the rest of our teammates crawled out of bed. They shambled into the kitchen like zombies, driven more by the need to shut Ruby up than any desire to face the day.
The twins glared heatedly behind them with bleary eyes. They saw the hair of the dog on the counter. Melanie made for the fridge, picked out two more eggs, then tossed one to Miltia. The two cracked the raw eggs into their drinks. As one, no hesitation, they swallowed it all in a single, fluid shot. Truly, these were veterans of the clubbing life.
“Ah, that’s the shit,” Melanie said with a burp. “Thanks, bun-bun, love you.”
“That was disgusting,” Weiss said as she took her seat. She sniffed her drink and frowned. “Does… Does more alcohol really help with hangovers?”
“It does, now drink up,” I said. “You won’t even remember the flavor once you chase it with that loco moco.”
“If you insist, brother.” She pinched her nose and tipped the glass. Her face scrunched up adorably as she tried to process that unique clamato flavor. “Eugh, how did someone come up with this?”
“Hair of the dog, that is, chasing a hangover with more liquor, has been around for centuries. It works, right?”
“Oddly enough, I do feel a little better.”
“See? Now eat your grease-on-a-plate. The rich food really does help.”
Yang took a big bite of her rice and burger. She seemed to enjoy the simple fare most. “Anyway, what’s everyone planning for winter break? I mean, we’re not all gonna stick around Beacon, right?”
Miltia scoffed as she dragged a spoonful of rice through gravy and still-gooey yolk. “Does it matter? You’re bussing tables.”
“Oh, come on! Haven’t I paid it off already?”
“You trashed the club and put several men in the hospital. You think working weekends for a single semester is going to cut it?”
“This blows,” she sulked.
“You’re not the only one who’ll be working. Mel and I will be busy helping Junior because someone started a bunny-themed mafia and refuses to have anything to do with actually being the don.”
I shrugged. “That’s Don Fluffles’ job. She’s not here right now, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. I mean, it can’t be too much work, right?”
My darling partner leveled the most exasperated glare she could at me. “Your bunny army subjugated every gang, assassinated the leader of Vale’s White Fang, and–”
“I still can’t believe you did that,” Blake grumbled.
“It’s not like you were still dating him, pussycat,” Melanie said ambivalently. “I mean, you said it yourself: You’re happier without him.”
“That doesn’t mean I wanted him dead!”
“In my defense, I actually had nothing to do with that,” I told her, as I’d told her several times now. She’d mostly calmed down since she found out, but she still found herself knocked for a loop every time it was brought up. “Capo Cuddles did that on his own, and for good reasons.”
“He planned to assassinate me,” Weiss reminded her teammate. “I’m not sure extra-judicial executions are the way to go, but I do appreciate the proactive problem-solving.”
“We don’t know that,” Blake grouched, mostly for the sake of sulking. She was a very sulky cat. “You just have your bunny’s word.”
“Capo Cuddles would not lie to Tianyu. And even Ilia agrees that trying to kill me off was entirely in character for your ex.”
“It’s true,” the chameleon-girl said through a mouthful of eggs. “Adam was kooky even for us terrorists. Like, he actually wanted to kill or enslave humanity, something about showing them how it feels to be faunus. That’s not terrorism, that’s full-on ethnic cleansing and genocide.”
“I’m glad you have lines in the sand,” Weiss drawled. “Terrorism? Acceptable. Genocide? Not so much.”
“Don’t ever say I don’t have standards,” Ilia said proudly.
“Rennie and I will be staying here,” Nora said, bringing us back on topic. “I mean, we’re homeless and all, so…”
“You know, Weiss could probably just buy you an apartment in the city,” Ruby pointed out.
Weiss shoved her leader. “Don’t promise my money on my behalf. But yes, it really wouldn’t be any trouble.”
“An apartment? For me? And Rennie? Just me and Rennie?” Nora gasped. She promptly fell into the depths of her own daydream and began muttering about things that proved super-hearing wasn’t always a blessing.
“And… she’s gone,” Ruby muttered. “Well, I live in Patch so I’ll be going home for a few days before coming back. Dad probably wants to hear from me about how Yang managed to land a job. Professor Ozpin wants to teach me and Amber a few more things about magic.”
“Lucky, I wish I didn’t have to travel quite so far,” Pyrrha said over a second helping of rice. “I have to be in Argus to record a few brand sponsorship commercials that my agent set up for me.”
“Ooh, is it Pumpkin Pete again?”
“That’s one of them. The main reason I’m going to Argus is for family, but there’s an activewear brand I’ll be working with as well.”
I counted them off. Ruby and Amber would be learning from Ozpin. Yang and the twins would be at the club. Nora planned to go on “not-dates” with Ren while she could get him alone. Pyrrha was off to Argus to visit family and model gym shorts and sports bras or whatever.
That left Weiss, Blake, and Ilia. Weiss, I already knew about. She’d received two letters from Atlas, one from her father and another from her sister.
Jacques demanded she return to Atlas. He said some other things about being his heir and being groomed for the position, but the gist was that he felt threatened. He wanted to grill her for information about me and find a way to merge the BDC into his company.
Weiss took an inordinate amount of joy in burning the letter. She was a huntress, and legally an adult. Even if she wasn’t, it wasn’t as if Ozpin or Ironwood would help Jacques here. Just the implied threat of Queso’s return was enough to take coercion off the table. The most Jacques could do was to disinherit her, and that was no threat at all.
The letter from Winter had been received with far more warmth. Her sister was coming. She’d been assigned to Beacon as a “security liaison and supplementary instructor” until the conclusion of the Vytal Festival. She’d arrive sometime before the start of the new semester.
Technically, she was supposed to have arrived earlier this semester, but sending her here was just about the only thing the Atlas Council could agree on right now. Every politician and diplomat seemed to have a different suggestion for just what she should be doing here.
The elder Schnee had been remarkably forthcoming. One councilor suggested assassinating me, which I got a good chuckle out of. Another said she should remind Weiss that her loyalties “lay with her homeland.” A third even proposed trying to seduce me, never mind that they weren’t positive she wasn’t my half-sister.
General Ironwood put his foot down in the end. Winter was a military officer. As such, she would be undertaking missions pertaining to the national security of Atlas, within the means and purview of a military officer. Trying for a potentially incestuous honeypot was far outside the scope of her expertise.
Winter herself seemed all too amused by it all, if a little unsure herself about what to make of me. No doubt, Queso had left an impression, never mind whatever other secret she’d been briefed on. In the end, just about the only thing the Atlas bigwigs could agree on was that she should be sent here to “keep an eye on things,” “promote the interests of Atlas,” and “make sure your family drama doesn’t doom us all.”
All that to say, Weiss had no interest in going back to Atlas. Winter, just about the only person she gave a damn about there, would be showing up soon enough. That, and she had quite a bit of work to do with the BDC. They recently finalized the contract to supply Vale with dust for the next five years and were now looking to expand to other kingdoms.
I eyed the three girls. That gave me an idea. Blake was always going on about how the BDC should use its wealth to promote equality and uplift the less fortunate… And she did need to hash out a few things with her parents…
“Say, Weiss, you’re going to be working with the BDC for a few weeks, right?” I asked rhetorically. “And being the CEO also means being the primary ambassador for your company?”
“Of course it does. Not only must I be the face of the company, I must ensure that its various arms are functioning as they should,” Weiss agreed wholeheartedly. It was nice to see she was taking her appointment so seriously.
“And Blake, you said you want the BDC to support faunus, right?”
“I did,” Blake said cautiously. “Why?”
“Then it’s settled. You, me, and Weiss will be going to Menagerie. Weiss can work on a deal with your dad. Oh, and I guess the stalker-gecko can come, too.”
“W-What? I mean, we’re not ready to expand–”
“Liar. Weiss gives me reports, you know,” I called her out. “Granted, I don’t read most of them, but I do recall that the deal with Vale was finalized a few weeks ago. That means that as a corporation, you should be looking for new markets. Menagerie is perfect seeing how the SDC has no influence there. No competition, an accessible labor market, and relatively close to Vale. See? Perfect.”
“That doesn’t mean I need to go myself. I’m not the CEO. Being the brand ambassador is her job.”
“Of course it does. You’re the sole faunus board member and chief ethics officer. Seeing how there is a documented history of ethics violations in the dust mining and processing industries, particularly regarding faunus, it only makes sense that you accompany Weiss to both relieve tensions and reassure doubters.”
“T-That’s–You just want me to go to Menagerie!”
“And you’re just trying to avoid talking to your parents,” I pointed out mercilessly. “Besides, that doesn’t make anything else I said any less true.”
“Stay out of my personal life!”
“Hmm… Ilia, is Blake ever going to reconcile with her parents if no one forces her?”
Ilia looked conflicted. Then, her good sense won out. “Honestly? It’d take a lot to get her to go back. No offense, Blake, but you do tend to run from your problems.”
“Right? Weiss can do the actual job while you go tell your parents you’ve been a naughty kitty–”
“I’m not telling them that!” she yelped, face red.
“Fine, but I’m sure they’d love to see you again.”
“I just… This isn’t fair. You’re holding my beliefs hostage.”
“I am? How dare I,” I gasped. “And how noble you are, Blake Belladonna. You’re willing to suffer through loving parents and a heartfelt reunion for the prosperity of your people. Truly, none have sacrificed more.”
“That’s not… I disappointed them. I hurt a lot of people when all they taught me was to fight for peace,” she said quietly.
“You did. And now, you can start to make things right. Not everyone gets that chance, pussycat.”
“I… You’re going to drag me to Menagerie whether I like it or not, aren’t you?”
“I mean, you can run if you think it’ll help,” I smiled like a shark. “I’ll even give you a head start.”
“Fine, but I’m going under protest.”
“If that’s what makes you happy.”
“I’ll get things settled on the corporate end, then,” Weiss said with a sympathetic smile. They’d really patched up the “terrorist and terror victim” thing. “Is the BDC just a tool to settle family drama for you, Tianyu?”
I laughed and began to clear the table. “Considering I started it just to mess with your father? Always has been.”
Author’s Note
I timeskipped over Blake’s angst-fest. It’s not worth it. Maybe if I ever write a proper RWBY fic, I’ll try to “solve racism” the normal way, but this fic is about the god-bunny doing stupid things.
Anyway, off to Menagerie. We’re officially treading new territory since I didn’t watch anything past v3.
Animal Fact: Bottlenose dolphins can have a handedness preference. A team led by Florida’s Dolphin Communication Project looked at the feeding behavior of bottlenose dolphins.
Dolphins engage in something called crater feeding. This is when they swim close to the ocean floor and use their echolocation to scan for food beneath the sand. Scientists recorded seven hundred nine turns. In 99.44% of recorded instances, dolphins turned to their left.
This highly suggests a right-handed bias because by turning left, they present their right eye and side to the ocean floor. Essentially, in the same way we would reach out with our right hands, they’re using the side of their body that they are most comfortable with.
On a side note, humans also have a right-handed bias, but only in about 70-95% of individuals. One reason dolphins have such a strong bias might be because their food channel splits to pass around their larynx, and this gap is bigger on their right side, making it easier to swallow from that side.