Disclaimer: I do not own Red vs. Blue nor do I own RWBY. They are both owned by Rooster Teeth.

A/N: I've been holding up by binge-watching the entire Blood Gulch Chronicles repeatedly. Also, I might just start writing smut because I'm THAT bored. Case in point, the beginning of this chapter.


Chapter 8


Our heroine Kunoichi had found herself inside a tricky situation after waking up from being captured. Again. Blinded and muffled, her body tied up unto a position of pure defenselessness on top of a hard chair, she could feel a physical warmth on her lap, tied up onto her while it struggled in a vain attempt to free itself, muffled groans giving away that it was her closest friend and partner.

Soon her own attempts of freeing herself out of the tight, unwanted embrace led both of their bodies to stroke against each other; both shy back at first, the touches on their tired yet sensitive bodies sent shivers down their spines.

She could make out a muffled moan between the groans of her stressed partner, her own muffled moans joining his as she felt the firm, built chest of her partner stroking along her own soft breasts, pressing against each other's warm, smooth skin as their sweat started to slowly slide down, melding together sensuously as they continued their struggle.

Confused at first, she had asked what he was thinking but fast found out the dirty intentions of her partner as she felt his warm breath close to her neck, their body struggling and rubbing along each other in tense, shy movements. Her own needs soon became overwhelming, soft moans pressing against her gag as she gave off a distressed whimper, their clothes have slipped from their position, raw skin stroking now onto each other in warm tenderly touches-


Blake glared into the page of Ninjas of Love with piercing eyes, panting at the colorful image painted upon her imaginative mind.

This issue. It was wonderful! No, "wonderful" was an insult. It was a masterpiece! A representation of finest art crystallized into words upon a page! The author really outdid themselves this time, she praised inside her head. The vivid imagery was spectacular! The diction was so expressive that she found herself engrossed! The details were so rich, so striking that she felt her very self becoming the Kunoichi as the character was stroking herself against her partner/love interest, feeling everything she was experiencing. Nay, she IS the Kunoichi.

It was almost as if she was reading a true event-

"Blake!"

She yelped shrilly and stuffed the book under her pillow in a knee jerk reaction. A practiced act, for sure.

Right. She had forgotten that she was on a team now. That was still something to digest.

"What is it?" She acted as if she had not been reading fine art.

"Did you hear what I said?" Weiss frowned at the black-haired girl, having not seen what Blake was doing only a few seconds earlier. She did kick the door to their dorm open when the "B" of RWBY was occupied doing… whatever it was she was doing. "I asked if you have any idea where Yang and Ruby are. It may be the weekend, but that does not excuse them from leaving and lounging about."

"Oh, that. They went out to Vale earlier," Blake easily answered. The Schnee heiress turned and raised her arms in exasperation at the poor door that had suffered her earlier abuse. She quickly sneaked Ninjas of Love back into the bookshelf and behind all of the other books by her bedside. Dutifully, the black-haired girl continued, "Yang had said something about hanging out with her sassy gay friend and dragged Ruby with her. Ruby had tried to call you for help, but you were in the library at the time."

"…Sassy gay-? Actually, no. Don't elaborate on that. I don't want to know." Weiss checked her Scroll for unread messages. "Are you sure she called? I don't have any messages from them."

"No. Ruby was shouting and pleading Yang not to take her away with Donut." Blake fished out another book underneath her bed, a less saucy book which she would have to put up with. Weiss, on the other hand, mouthed to herself,'What kind of name is Donut?'. "Then one of Team CLMA came around and she forgot about getting help… we might need to get a lint remover in the near future."

She shuddered at the reminder of that dog faunus. Caboose, his name was. Why was he so enthusiastic about being around her? Why couldn't he take the hint that she did not want to be around him? And dear Heaven, why did his hair have to smell like a dog?!

Weiss raised a brow at Blake. "Just because Caboose is a dog faunus doesn't mean he has fur… well, not much. It's just his ears. Those damnable, twitchy ears under all that hair that are just… just… w-why do you even dislike him anyway? He hasn't done much to you, as far as I'm concerned."

"I don't like dogs." She said as concisely as possible. It could not be any more concise than that.

The white-haired girl squinted inquisitively at her.

The two teams had an interesting relationship. Their leader, Church, was basically an angry guy who was always an inch away from blowing a fuse. Somehow, Ruby's presence placated him, which was confusing for the guy who was so used to being angry that it was second nature. That dynamic between the two leaders led to the RWBY and CLMA meeting often, some more explosive than others due to Yang still harboring a grudge towards the resident black guy. Granted, the rage had subsided but the blonde brawler was still a little resentful about her hair being desecrated.

'A little,' Yang had emphasized.

She then roared at Tucker with the rage of a thousand during Goodwitch's combat class while trying to violently rearrange his face a little. The "little" was a very crucial detail, apparently.

"Right." Weiss came to the conclusion that Blake was a weirdo for being afraid of dogs. "If that's the case, I'll just ask CLMA if they've seen the two of them."

Right on cue, Tucker appeared at the door Weiss turned to exit.

"Have you seen our blonde teammate? / Have you seen our blond idiot?" They asked at the same time.

"No. / No." Again, at the same time.

"…" Tucker stared at Weiss.

"…" Weiss stared back.

The silence was untelling. The former began to sweat and took off running. The two remaining members of RWBY were confused by the reaction and were not placated by the next set of words.

"Church! We have a problem!"

"If Caboose is running around with scissors again, I swear I'm gonna break his kneecap!"


"And that's the story of why I'm not allowed to carry scissors anymore!"

Caboose finished his tale and puffed his chest like it was something to be proud of. By his standards, it really was something to be proud of. To others, it was a logistical nightmare that was stamped and ready to screw a person's life over. No amount of lawyers could come close to deciphering that pile of madness into something coherent.

"That was a nightmare as much as it was nonsensical." Yang managed to sum up her and her sister's thoughts. "That was just so… stupid. I don't know where to begin. W-what am I supposed to do with this information?" The older sister stared down at her hands, trying to make even a lick of sense from Caboose's grand tale.

"It's true, though." Donut pulled at his pants. "I still have the marks to show. You wanna see?"

"Eeeeeeh- maybe later," Yang hedged. She was curious but not enough that she would subject her eyes to a guy's junk. Even if it wasn't anything kinky. Donut did not seem to have the capacity to be kinky despite the innuendos he spouted out in rapid-fire.

"How is that even possible?" Ruby had to ask. Her curiosity demanded to be sated. "How did the scissors even end up- just… what?" Even the diminutive girl could only trail off as she tried to make sense of the story.

"There there," her sister placed a hand over her eyes, "No need to think too much about it. You'll just get a headache."

"Anyways, Caboose's story aside, we are here!~" Donut cheered at their arrival at the destination; one of Vale's top shopping malls, framing the sight before him with his hands, humming in approval at what he was seeing, "Mmhmm, symmetrical, bright, quivering with life and just the right spots to get those heels for Ruby. Ohohohoh, you girls have no idea how long I've waited for this moment. We'll make a new fashion statement out of Ruby yet!"

Yang rubbed her hand together in excitement, "I miss parading Ruby around like a doll. We used to do it so much when we were little, and now, we get to relive it again! Isn't that great, little sis?"

"Please no," Ruby whimpered at the repressed memories resurfacing.

"That's the spirit!" Donut whirled and placed Ruby into a picture frame with his fingers, "Let's see… red and black suit you just fine what with the goth look you got going but I'm thinking with a little bit of rearrangement, you can definitely pull off white. But what shade of white is the question… cream, bone, and beige are out of the question-"

"Maybe eggshell? Or do you think ivory could work?"

"Nah, too business-y, the two of those. Ruby doesn't look like the kind of girl to act refined and mature… as she is now."

"Whu- hey! I can be refined!"

"I'm leaning towards linen and seashell," Donut ignored Ruby's outburst, focused on the ordeal he had beset upon himself, "Perhaps even lavenderblush depending on the situation."

"Oooh, lavenderblush. I never thought I'd hear that word. A tricky pony, that one, but I can definitely see it bring out the color of Ruby's eyes and if not, then complement her skin," Yang too descended into analytics. On the other hand, Ruby was progressively becoming scared at the two fashion-obsessed first-years' eyes roaming about every part of her body. She felt both naked and vulnerable and there seemed to be nothing she could do. Caboose was not much help as his attention turned to the nearby food court with thought of how he managed to get here in the first place. Or whatever was going on in his mind, no one could tell exactly.

The effeminate Red hummed in contemplation. "It could work. But we won't know until we get to it!"

"Um, is it too late to say that-"

"Yes." Her two sudden captors answered.

"P-please let me finish my question!"

"Certainly not, Ruby!" Donut smiled placatingly at Team RWBY's leader. It did nothing to placate her. "I'm going to take a leaf out of my former Sarge's book and tell you that-"

"-you're all maggots and I'm here to make you rise up above "maggots" and right into "worms" territory!"

Sarge started his first lesson by hurling that statement straight out to the class.

The entire student body that managed to get into this class was taken aback by the rather undeserving nonsequitur. The only ones who did not seem to register the abuse was Team FLSD, who did not care to think why their "leader" was not present, and Team CLMA, who had the same thought as their sister tea except with their resident idiot and Tex, for some reason. 'Idiot' did not narrow down the options by much since the latter team was roughly 75% idiot, if the only female of the team CLMA was asked.

"And you will find no finer example than this pile of dung seated right here!"

Sarge pointed at Grif, who had been forced to sit in the front row.

In the back sat three particular people of out the other thirty or so students watching the exchange.

"Sheesh, what's his deal with Grif?" Jaune whispered to Simmons, who was writing an immaculate transcript of every word Professor Sarge was throwing around. Even the insults currently being ass-pounded onto Grif. Oh boy, the insults. And the actual lesson had not even started yet.

Simmons hummed. "It's a little more complicated than "beef". As far as we've been together, the only time they ever got along was when they first met. After that, well. You can see the results for yourself."

Sarge gesticulated whilst pointing at Grif, "As you can see, class, our esteemed dirtbag Grif here suffers from Uranium Gysotomic Lynostic Yeast-Infection since childhood and only got worse after he contracted Distol Uranium Masticular Bi Acetone Systonic Shit over the years he has served in the Red Army!"

The older man paused for dramatic effect.

"In layman's term, he's an UGLY DUMBASS."

"I'm right here, you know?"

"Ahah, right where I want you! In 'UGLY DUMBASS' territory!"

Grif sighed in resignation. "…Whatever."

"What results? I only see a beefy asshat who's compensating for a lot of things by taking 'em out on Grif. Poor bastard."

The one who pointed that out was none other than Cardin Winchester.

In the most surprising of turnabouts, Cardin and Jaune – respectively, the class bully and the lowest-performing student among the first years – had become friends. The former was eager to deny that claim but the truth was that the two team leaders had both suffered from the ministrations of Tex upon their sacred regions over the past weeks or so, Cardin more than Jaune. Since then, the leader of team CRDL had become a lot more mellow than was considered healthy and the latter a bit more confident despite his nuts being cracked a good amount of times. (Perhaps there was an inverse effect on blonds?) This in effect had ingratiated them to Grif, who had previously suffered the worst from CLMA's resident shark woman.

Thus, the three could be nothing else but comrade-in-arms.

Jaune was willing to give Sarge the benefit of the doubt, "I mean, he's the biggest-looking guy in Beacon so far. He looks like he wrestles bears on his spare time, so that's gotta mean something on his part."

"Nah, he just realized that if he has bigger muscles, he can shoot bigger guns," Simmons was quick to correct. "Once, he tried to fire an experimental Gulchian weapon that was bigger than his torso back then. Months with his arms in a cast did not sit well with him so he started working out and dragged us with him."

Cardin seemed surprised, "That explains why Grif is a bit buff himself, even though he's a complete fatass in the cafeteria."

"Trust me, if it was up to him, he'd have a beer belly by now," Simmons agreed without hesitation.

Jaune stared at Simmons judgmentally. The judgment was passed onto Team FLSD as well.

"The more I hear your stories, the more it seems you guys don't exactly have the best intentions coming here."

Simmons snorted. "That's ironic 'cuz everyone seems to listen to us anyway. Every. Single. Time. Even when our ideas are just absolutely batshit insane."

"Must be because you talk like assholes. You and Team CLMA," Cardin stared at the egghead of FLSD while saying that.

He did not bother to deny that statement.

"Could be that."

The three of them looked at each other, shrugged, and reluctantly returned their attention to the front. Sarge had finally moved onto questions the students wanted to ask.

"Yes! You with the ears!"

The rabbit-eared girl raised a brow at the nomenclature. "Sir? Are you ever going to go over lessons? Or…"

"Whut." Sarge smartly replied. "Oh! Right right, the lesson! This class is Survival Tactics and Stratagems. We will start off with the most basic of all: food. "

The frankly-undeserving professor began to pace the board, which was already filled to the brim with pictures and graphs pertaining to the subject he was going over.

"Food is the most crucial element to sustaining a team when they are out on a mission. Many have fallen apart, been mutilated, and or traumatized simply because there were not enough MREs to pass around. Or one of them had been hogging them to themselves. Or one of them decided to conveniently forget that the authorized amount was non-negotiable. Grif."

"I will neither confirm nor deny that accusation," was his only reply.

"I'll have you become a respectable human being yet," Sarge mulled darkly. "But yes! Food is important! Food is a necessity most of you maggots take for granted. Imagine, you're out in the wilderness for your mission and the nearest town is in miles. You think this is some romantic walk through the woods?! NO! You're hungry! There's nothing to eat but that unopened ketchup bottle, a bunch of spicy buffalo wing sauce packets, and that one pack of Oreos that's going stale because someone opened it weeks earlier and didn't bother wrapping it up! So you improvise! The ketchup is your water! The sauce packets are your salt and pepper! The stale Oreos are your breakfast, lunch, and dinner! And that's only IF your teammates haven't stabbed you in the eye with a plastic spork and left you for dead yet!"

Everyone looked disgusted at the thought of surviving off of ketchup and stale Oreo's. On the other hand, Grif could not look any more delighted about it, reaffirming Cardin's impression about him.

"That is why the subject of food is covered now! It's so you maggots do not decide to kill each other because one of you decided Mistral's MRE's are so worthy of murder and lawsuits! Even if violence truly seems to be-"

"-the only answer!" Donut finally finished.

"Okay, I'll admit. That was a really nice story and I especially like the part about how you replaced every dots with hearts, Donut, but how does that tell me that I should just let myself be dressed up!?"

"Easy, Ruby!" Donut smiled. The pretty boy did not follow up on his remark.

"…Why aren't you saying anything?"

"I helped you skip Professor Sarge's class. Thus, you owe me."

"That's-!" Ruby paused as she processed the word 'class'. "Wait, we have class today? On a weekend?"

"Of course! Sarge has his classes thrice biweekly. He had me write out his lesson plans and what topics should and should not be covered. Today, he's going over food but I'll bet he's going to spend the entire class session telling horror stories about how one time Grif raided the pantry and left the entire Red Army starving and how that would build team dynamics. I have all the lesson plans so that means anytime it's Sarge's class time, we can skedaddle into Vale under the guise of teacher assistants doing their work!"

Yang checked her class schedule on her scroll and whistled, "Wow. We actually do have class on… Survival Tactics and Stratagems? Huh. And you said you have all the lesson plans?"

"I- bu- that's jus- whu-" Ruby could not form any coherent words.

"Yep yep yep." Donut nodded "And I have an intimate understanding of how Sarge's head works and what will be covered anyways, so when exam time comes, I'll just help you out. Plus, he's not going to take attendance on me."

"T-that's not fair at all!" The petite Red finally found her voice.

"I dunno, sis. We got ourselves a guy with connections and a way to an easy "A" for one of our classes. That's a plus anytime. So you know what that means~" The "Y" of RWBY smiled mischievously alongside her sassy gay friend.

Whu- traitor! Her sister has betrayed her! Weiss! Wait, she's still back at Beacon… Blake! Blake is not here?! Why are none of her other teammates here to rescue her?!

With no other options left, she turned to her last hope.

"Caboose! Help!"

Caboose perked up at finally being called and began to help out.

"W-wait! Help me! Not help them!~"


"…I have a distinct feeling something stupidly funny is about to happen."

Tex muttered to herself as she approached her target.

She was in Vale at the moment, having found a delectable piece of info from her sources that she needed confirming. That information brought her to this apartment building near the outskirts of Vale, the very same one the Blues – or Team CLMA as it was known as now – had been frequenting before their transition to Beacon. Not the same room though, it was actually two floors above.

In front of her was a door. Not just any door. Inside was a person she thought she would not meet again.

They had a history… well, not much of a history. It was actually the idiots, the Reds and Blues, who had a history with him. Tex just came along afterward.

Three sharp raps against the door.

The door opened three seconds later.

A man greeted her. A tall built dark-skinned man with an X-shaped scar across his frowning face looked at her, focused and unyielding even as she smiled toothily at him. A testament to who he is… who he once was.

"Locus."

"…Texas."

The man blinked slowly in resignation.

"Why have you come here? I have already sworn to never meet you or the others again."

"You never swore to never let us meet you," Tex cheekily replied then leaned in. "You already know why I'm here, Samuel."

Locus tilted his head. "You'll have to be specific, Allison."

Any other time, Tex would immediately jab the one who called her that in the throat. Only a select few were allowed to call her that and Locus was not one of them. But, as the saying goes, 'everyone gets one'.

"Since when have you been cheeky?"

"I'll give you three guesses."

The man gestured her in.

The room was… Spartan, to say the least. There were no decorations, no books, no pictures, not even a potted plant, only the bare necessities were present in the room: a table, a chair, a TV, a ham radio, a kitchen, and a cot with a pillow and blanket. It was bare, lifeless, and completely lacking in ambiance, resembling a prison more than a home.

…A fitting place for the one known as Locus.

"So what is happening that Gulch's number one… former number one Freelancer went out of her way to find a washed-up mercenary?" Locus opened a cabinet in an attempt at hospitality.

"Control."

At that word, the man paused.

"…Coffee?"

"You know then. Atlesian Black, if you have it."

"I may be retired but I'm not uninformed." Locus began his brewing preparation as he spoke, "Control has it out for the lot of you. After you all humiliated him so greatly, I would not be surprised if you are on his immediate hit list. It's one thing to disobey orders. It's another to defect from a Kingdom with nearly every other Freelancers and sim soldiers who were willing to listen to you, along with its covetous secrets. Sugar?"

"Hmph. If he had even an ounce of sense in him, he would have known that his plans would backfire on him eventually." Tex declined the sugar cubes.

"So they did. And now you are back, once again." Locus offered the coffee to Tex. She took it…

…but the man had a firm hold on the drink. The ex-mercenary stared hard into the ex-Freelancer's eyes.

"You had finally gotten away from it all. Control no longer has his fingers around you. The Reds. The Blues. The Freelancers. You no longer have any obligations towards your past dealings. And yet, you are back. You have returned. Have you thought this through? I mean, chewed down to the bone. You stabbed the devil in the back and got away with it, and now you risk every deserving thing gained from it just to do it again."

They continued staring, prying into each other's minds. Finally, he let go.

"Is vengeance really that important to you?"

The shark woman lifted the coffee to her face, seemingly studying the visual of the ambrosia.

"…It's not about taking revenge, Locus."

She gulped the coffee down in one sitting and nearly slammed the mug down.

"It's about what will happen because we got out of that pond."

Locus looked at the finished cup.

"They will find out eventually. And they will stop at nothing to stop- no, help you."

"And that is why they are not with me." She glared at him for bringing that to her attention. Locus did not believe for a second it would remain like that. "That is why I'm here. Church… they deserve better. They deserve a chance to make better people out of themselves. After all that shit, they deserve it."

"And not you?"

"…" Tex did not speak. Her silence was enough.

"If you're asking where Carolina and York are, then I don't know."

She waited for him to continue.

"But I know some people who may," Locus nodded tersely. He wrote down some contact information. "Two of them, actually. One likes to call himself a criminal mastermind and the other is a fence and info broker. You'll have more luck getting the latter to accommodate you. As for the other… I've lost contact with him weeks prior. Maybe he'll answer you instead?"

"Thanks for the heads-up," Tex took the note and made to leave. She paused at the door, "…You should open up a shop. Atlesian Black tastes like ass but you made it good."

Locus waited for the door to shut. Once again, quiet.

Quiet was nice.

Quiet was peaceful.

Finally, he snorted.

"This universe has a bad habit of bringing back fools whose stories have ended."


A/N: This is the part where Cerebus Syndrome rears its head, like it did in RvB: Out of Mind. Oh, did you forget? There's a story behind the antics the Reds and Blues get themselves into.

In unimportant news, I've managed to find my old PSP and a bunch of UMDs lying around, most still in pristine condition. Good news is I fixed it up! More specifically, I replaced the cracked screen and got a new battery for it. Bad news is after a bit more digging around, I found a cracked memory card. My only one. Sadness ensues.

Rest in peace, memory card containing all of my Star Wars: Battlefront II (the good one) and Ace Combat X game datas.

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