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Yang paused. Slowly, she slipped off her shades, folding them neatly as she handed them to a shocked Blake, who already looked like she was regretting everything. And stepping onto the stage, ignoring the calls and the laughs she turned to her opponent, looking up... And up, into the guttural features of the half orc before she flashed a smile all teeth and less savage than a dragon's maw.

"You've done it now mister. No one beats Yang Xiao Long in a pun battle! No one!"

Blake slammed her head lightly into the table, the laughter of the crowd rising as she wondered how she got into this.

Oh right.

Yang was bored.

Well excuse her, but we can't all have apparently, actually magical fairy godmothers in the family. Or whatever Mrs. Weatherwax was. But that could wait, considering she had her own agenda for coming down here today besides horrible, horrible pun-offs.

The White Fang.

Rumor had it that the infamous terrorist organization was sighted around town, to say nothing of the reports of them in Vale. Under Adam, they had become more violent, more twisted and she couldn't stomach it anymore. And so, she parted ways and tried not to think about how much it affected her now, to see the news and how they were painted. Much less listen to the Schnee on the other team act, bad-mouthing them to the point she swore she'd have smothered her in her sleep, had she been part of her team.

And so here she was, while her partner learned martial arts from a dragon and Jaune from a witch, Blake and Yang under the guise of barhopping would be hunting for news. She supposed that was one good thing about her, she admitted grudgingly. Yang didn't know why Blake was worried, nor why she was obsessed with the idea. She didn't even ask.

She just made it an outing, and Blake was coming to the end of her rope. On stage, the orc chuckled at his opponent. Clad in heavy furs, he wielded an axe upon which was of all things, a strange magic. Holding it in a way and strumming his fingers, it produced a sound as if there were strings and when swung, made a melodic noise like music, aided by the holes in the blade. He was also upon hearing his voice, younger than his features suggested. Enough to indicate he was around their age or perhaps a little older, if more scarred.

It was a surprising choice Blake admitted, but it just went to show, there were all sorts out there. More so, now that the idea of a multiverse... Solar system? Aliens? Was made real.

The orc spoke, his voice a sonorous intonation. "It was my... Assumption. That my kin would prove far inferior... In the face of your tactics."

In a crowd of bardic types, that only meant almost everyone had an instrument and a sense of the dramatic. The lights had dimmed, someone had rigged up spotlights with light spells and lamp shades and a small band played, the defeated in the contest which grew the more folks lost. They were now doing a dramatic tune, before it focused on Yang who grinned and snapped her fingers.

Whatever was going on, she liked it, and something seemed to answer as she responded, just as dramatically.

"You summon and pun. Summon and pun..." She shook her head, one arm rising to rest over her brow as she declared. "Is sanity the price to pay... For this power?!"

"What is even happening?!" Blake mouthed in silence.

The orc responded, as seriously as he strummed his axe and rose up, pointing to Yang as a swirl of fingers brought forth her smiling face in effigy.

"Humans! But the same, no matter the plane. They are but stubborn and foolish. It takes a journey to pun Hell for them to accept and praise their better ...A fact that tickles irony's judgement." He clenched his fingers, the effigy vanishing.

The audience turned, like a tennis match between to Yang currently laying lazily on her side on the stage, examining her fingernails as she grinned.

"And your judgements interest me not. For I'm here."

And flipping up, she pointed to the far side, as the spotlights on cue turned to illuminate what looked like the most ritzy, cheapest looking trophy Blake had ever seen. Gold leaf, with the image of a classic bard proclaiming as another person laid in fetal position, hands over their eyes at his feet. Beneath it, was a shield that said simply 'Patches Pun Champion.'

Of course, Yang would want it. And she pointed out, proclaiming as sparks began to flicker from her fingers in the gesture. "To claim... What is rightfully mine!"

"Then let the battle-begin!"

Blake plugged her ears through sheer, self-preservation and looked away in frustration before she saw someone. In the corner of the bar, for what would have been pure darkness to anyone else was a man or man-shaped at least. Harder to tell nowadays, really. He was dressed in a more Remnant style, a black suit with red highlights and shades of the same color. He drank alone and seemed to radiate his own, personal 'keep away' bubble but Blake finally had a lead.

This man was sighted close to Mrs. Weatherwax and she needed answers so getting up, she moved over and sat across at the table. The man drank quietly, not even acknowledging her presence before he finally spoke.

"You know, when a man sits in a corner and drinks, its usually a sign he's not looking for company."

"What, not interested in the company of some wide-eyed, curious student?" Blake said dryly, before the man looked at her and went through an entire motion that seemed ceremonial. He took off his shades, wrapped them in a handkerchief as he then stashed them in a case and finally, into his inner jacket. The entire process took five minutes, as groans and cheers alternated where Yang was having her battle before he splayed his hands flat on the table and spoke.

"Blake Belladonna. Student of Beacon, partner Lie Ren. Daughter of Ghira and Kali Belladonna, originally from-."

Blake's blood ran cold, as she almost bolted from the table before the man snorted. "Relax kitty cat, I'm not going to bite. It's my job to dig into the garbage, especially for threats. Let's start over."

His eyes pierced her own, cold and almost uncaring as he spoke robotically.

"Hello. My name is Artemis. What is your name?"

There was silence for all of five seconds, as the sounds in the background grew more raucous before Blake said flatly. "That was terrible. What was that supposed to be again?"

Artemis shrugged. "A greeting. My therapist told me that finding new hobbies and ways to live, was integral for a solid foundation mentally." He paused and added. "I'm more used to killing people than talking to them, so what do I know?" Ah. That was what was putting Blake on edge so much now.

Schnee.

He reminded her of the Schnee, all cold and calculating, measuring lives in statistics. Her bow flattened and his eyes flicked rapidly to the top of her head before he finally spoke.

"So. White Fang? What was that like?"

Blake pondered sharing, before finally opting for the most basics. "We were just tired of being pushed around. I suppose it's different, out there?" This seemed to make Artemis laugh, a harsh, twisted thing as he shook his head before he spoke, a rueful grin on his face.

"You'd think so, would you? See that guy on stage with your friend? To this day, various orc tribes still submit to the old 'might makes right.' They raid, burn and pillage and submit to darker masters in a flash. Dragons? Oooh, you've never seen the aftermath of a dragon attack. All fire and ashes, or worst. I've seen dragons hobble live prey... Humanoids, letting them run before gobbling em up, screaming and wriggling. Says it improves the taste." His features looked almost ghoulish, his grin broad as he drank and slammed the mug down, Blake wishing she was anywhere but here as he spoke, with visceral hate.

"And then there's the Drow. Those fucking, knife eared, dual wielding, little shits who think they can just UP AND DIE ON ME, WITHOUT SO MUCH AS A BY YOUR LEAVE?!" He was roaring and Blake brought his mug close, sniffing as she almost gagged. Artemis was snarling now, staggering as he called out.

"YOU CAN'T BE DEAD! I WON'T LET YOU! WE HADN'T SETTLED SHIT, YOU COWARDLY LITTLE-"

Someone threw a punch. Artemis threw one back.

And then it devolved into a mess.

Music began to play on stage as it all went down, the orc smacked away an errant beer mug even as Yang kicked away another. The blonde huntress letting out a squawk as she cried out.

"Ah! I wasn't expecting a mugging today!"

The orc looked surprised and then suddenly grinned. The show must go on, and he cried back. "Liquor let die, that's the Icewind Dale way!"

"Well, you've certainly raised the bar." Yang shot back, her opponent narrowing his eyes as he spoke back, his expression a parody of heartbreak.

"But you just lift my spirits."

He ducked in time, as someone's whiskey bottle smashed and Yang could have sworn she heard her uncle Qrow scream in pain as she winced.

"Ooof. If only we had one of those Atlas guys here now!"

The orc looked confused, taking the hit from a chair as he turned and roared in the face of the intrepid fighter, who decided to go fight somewhere else.

"Why do you say that?"

"So they can order everyone around!"

The orc winced. Yang felt something, an odd spark behind her eyes as she continued without stop and paused only to slam her fist for an anthropomorphic cat that tried to jump her.

"Oh sorry, I wasn't really feline it. But it really gave me paws! Hey, do you think if looked in the insurance claws, they'd pay via act of cat-?"

The orc roared in actual pain, falling to the floor and Yang got worried as she rushed over. "Hey, you alright big guy?!" She paused and frowned, listening to him wheeze in laughter, even as he winced at the headache.

In the corner of her eye, she could see Blake hiding among the tavern rafters, among other enterprising bards who kept up the background music. Down below, the odd man she had spoken to talking about his boyfriend or whatever, had cleared out a small circle full of groaning bodies.

His eyes opened, he stared at her as he spoke. "Welcome to our ranks." Yang blinked and suddenly cocked her head. She looked inward, her eyes widened as she felt it. Like her aura, welcoming and happy, eager to please as she began to laugh.

"No way!"

"Happened to me at a funeral." Grunted the orc youth as he added. "I was singing the death songs as he was lowered, and my own magic just clicked then." Yang blinked.

"Oh, sorry about that."

"Yeah, I really let him down." He agreed and Yang blinked before she grinned. "I like you. What's your name?"

And then suddenly, there was a cry.

"Hey! Your friend was talking to this frak!" Yang and the orc turned to look, both seeing the following. A massive, muscled creature with the literal head of a bull as he jerked a thumb down towards a blissfully, snoring Artemis.

"We want satisfaction."

"Taking that situation by the horns, huh?" Yang said before thinking as a horrifying silence fell. The minotaur spoke casually.

"And now I want you dead."

Laying his axe against the wall, the orc youth cracked his knuckles. "I'm Elrick. Elrick Redd." As he flashed his tusks, he added.

"And this promises to be a very mooving experience."

The minotaur roared and charged.

Yang and Elrick charged back.

The bar did not survive.

====

"But the important thing, is that I saved the trophy!" Yang declared, beaming upwards at Aunty Em. Her expression looked carved from stone, her eyes flicking to a sheepish looking Elrick and Blake before she sighed and smiled.

"Yang love. Because I love you like family, I won't throw you in a cell to cool yourself off. Because I also love you like family, I have a much better punishment for you." She turned and strode out of the way and Yang paled.

Taiyang Xiao Long strode in, Zwei at his heels and expression like thunder as he yelled.

"YANG XIAO LONG!"

"SAVE THE TROPHY!" Yang screamed to Blake as she threw it out of harm's way.

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