rwby · post-beacon · dead end arc · trauma · angst · team rwby · team jnr · war setting · survival · psychological
The living room smells of old dust and fresh despair. A single lamp casts a weak glow over the fractured wall where Jaune’s fist left its mark, the plaster splintered like a frozen cry. Outside the window, evening bleeds into night, draping the room in bruised shadows. Team RWBY and Oscar are scattered in a heavy silence—Ruby stands stiff by the cold fireplace, her cape hanging lifeless; Weiss perches on the arm of a sofa, Myrtenaster resting against her thigh; Blake is folded into a corner, her bow limp, ears tucked away; Yang leans in the doorway, arms crossed, one mechanical limb still emitting a faint, acrid wisp. The upstairs door is closed. No one has spoken since Nora and Ren walked out. Oscar sits alone on the floorboards, knees pulled to his chest, his young face a portrait o…