Ninjas of Love

Gay Goings-On, Treacherous Trips, and Charlie Copson

Weiss, as much as certain people may hate to admit it (*cough* Charlie *cough*), wasn't far wrong with that assertion, as proven when- mere seconds after Penny had stowed away her emergency picnic blanket- the battered old Datboi landed, unfortunately and unmistakably there for Teams RWBY, JNPR, BECK, and PINC. Never before had Blake actually been reluctant to board a ship, especially with her vaguely Aspergers-like obsession with flying machines, but she was certainly fairly nonplussed about joining the H-ster, Helene Blanche, for another journey back to the Amity Arena.

Once all sixteen young hunters and huntresses had boarded the potential death trap, with varying levels of enthusiasm (it is, of course, worth noting at this point that Nora very rarely dips below a quite obnoxious level of enthusiasm- just in case you hadn't already noticed and had absolutely awful perception for these things), Helene took off with an engine sputter and without a word, covering the ground in a brownish, fairly pungent coating of oil. Charlie quickly closed his mouth to prevent his McDalton's meal from making a very quick, unwanted return to the worryingly sticky floor of the Datboi ship- Blake was now explaining the intricacies of the design that emphatically proved it was a Datboi Lite Millenium Series, likely from Mistral- as his face returned to the sickly green that now seemed ubiquitous to flying for him. Meanwhile, Kerian and Billy were showing each other something that they, between raucous bouts of girly giggles, referred to as "animemes", whilst Emily was sat, enthralled with her own hands- especially whether or not she could actually get one hand round the opposite wrist or not. Of course, there were also other characters on the ship- some would argue an over-abundance of them- but, as you and I both know, dear reader- they were fairly superfluous to the goings on, primarily focussed on trying to hold some semblance of a conversation over the veritable canal boat of an engine that sat within the front of the Millenium Series ship.

Just then, seventeen scrolls went off in unison, causing the entire rickety cattle shed of a ship to vibrate gently with a notification. Yang was the first to read the small news item that had pinged her on her way home (of course, she was holding her scroll with her intact left hand). Her eyes scanned the screen as she read "BREAKING: Team MDRI mysteriously pull out of Vytal Tournament. They are to be replaced, and Team WANK will not receive a bye." She read it over once more with her Aryan blue eyes, just to be absolutely sure of what she read. "Hey Jaune, have you read this?"

"Of course I have." The blond boy replied, scratching his slightly stubbly chin. "I wonder who we're fighting then. Not that I, of course, knew anything about Team MDRI."
"Totally same here! I'm glad I'm not the only one who didn't know who they were!" Nora bleated excitedly, before adding an enthused "I'll smash them either way" and smiling widely at nothing in particular. Weiss, rather uncharacteristically, said nothing, choosing instead to have a look of disillusioned disappointment across her pasty face. Of course, she was none the wiser as to just who was going to replace Team MDRI- the news article seemed tight-lipped about it to the point of very deliberate obtusity- but something as trivial as basic facts would never get in the way of Weiss' under-functional superego and raging superiority complex; this is primarily due to the fact that she simply wouldn't let it, and Weiss dictates what affects Weiss and when it affects Weiss. Even more pertinently, she knew JNPR weren't fighting as they'd beaten OCEN already, but instead chose to let her intellectually inferior colleagues just get on with it.

As the ship managed to land without killing anyone, the sixteen hunters left, mostly by foot, but with Emily draped across Billy's shoulders and trapezius muscles whilst Kerian carried her wheelchair, taking great care not to damage it. Unfortunately for Emily, this was Kerian's interpretation of great care, which meant that he managed to quite literally drop the chair on the edge of the ship, causing it to roll slightly and fall, backrest-first into the harsh ground. Upon the chair's recovery by a tutting Charlie, Emily breathed a very audible sigh of relief when her half-brother assured her, with a genuine, honest glint in his eyes, that it wasn't damaged past a slightly bent handle. As her sibling pushed her back to the dressing room where BECK, PINC, and RWBY would watch the final fight of the day's session, Emily tightly clutched Yang's unbroken, sweaty palm. Yang looked tired, as she focussed all of her energy into harnessing enough aura to at least mostly heal her annihilated hand, and not condemn her a tournament-ending visit to Dr. Schwarzkopf. When they got back into the bare-bones dressing room, Emily shot up from her chair like a Roman candle firework had been let off inside her rectal cavity, and softly took a gentle hold of Yang's other hand. As two pairs of eyes met in pure unadulterated infatuation, so did two pairs of slightly chapped, baby pink lips before they both realised where they were and pulled away. "Yangikins." Emily whispered softly and sweetly into the blonde's ear. "Don't ever- fine, how may I help you?" Yang whispered back, her voice changing, as it often did when she was fatigued, into a sexy, husky tone. "Take a seat for a bit." Yang looked almost angry at Emily's suggestion that she take a break. "Please." Emily made sure to ask as politely as possible, and batted the eyelashes that sat upon her sad-looking, ocean-blue eyes right into Yang's very soul. Nodding, and consigning herself to something a role-reversal by submitting to her girlfriend, the blonde slowly and reluctantly took a seat in the black wheelchair (which was honestly heavier than it needed to be, and was barely a step up from your average hospital issue), as Charlie threw her a proverbial bone in the form of a silver packet of prawn cocktail flavoured Oblongs- notable for being crisps (okay, maize snacks if you're going to be a real snobbish pedant about it- or as we call it, being a Weiss) all in the shape of perfect 2:1 ratio oblongs. "Relax and heal while you watch some more fighting, babe." Emily said softly and reassuringly, as she took up a space in a folding chair next to Yang, laying her own tired head on Yang's bosom. "Look, Em, that's cute but if you do it while I have two working hands, I'll knock your fucking head into next week." Yang informed her girlfriend slightly too cheerily, as she planted a soft kiss on Emily's hairless cheek.