Ninjas of Love

The Office (No Ricky Gervais)

"Miss Rose." The voice came from a grey-haired man, wearing a suit, who clutched a mug of what was presumably coffee in one hand- and, in the other, a polished, black walking cane with an ornate spherical handle of expertly forged steel. "Who are these people?"
"Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna and Ya.."
"Not those ones, you moron! The ones I've never laid eyes on before."
"Oh.. those ones."

"This is Billy. He can lift things because it's convenient to the plot. And he has his weapon Jeff." Ruby told the man.
"Does his weapon take the form of a slightly overweight corpse?"
"WHY DOES EVERYONE ASSUME I'M DEAD? I JUST WISH I WAS!" Emily shouted in disdain. "Oh yeah," Ruby remembered, "this is..... Yang's friend. She fell down a hill."
"Anything else I want to know about her?"
"No."
"She's fit!" Yang exclaimed.
"That was something I didn't want to know, Miss Long."
"Anyway," Ruby said, trying to move on the subject from her sister's infatuation with Emily, "this here is Kerian Furry. He has a big sword-cum-gun machine killy thing. He also hasn't shat himself- I am reliably informed- he in fact is a Faunus."
"Of course he is. They all say that."
"And finally, we have Charlie. He is basically his team's collective grandmother who convinces them not to do utterly stupid things."
"Wow, this one might actually be of use."
"I heard that." Emily shouted from atop Billy's shoulders.

"What are they doing here, anyway? Miss Rose?"
"They're here to compete in the Vytal Festival Tournament. From Patch."
"Patch doesn't have an academy."
"It does now!" Charlie decreed, driving his quarter staff into the grass. Upon attempting to pull it out, he realised he had pushed it in harder than he had expected. "Can someone help out?" Weiss grabbed Charlie round the waist, and hoisted him up so quickly both the staff and he left the ground. She dropped him down, and he landed with a thud. "Next time I won't take such pity, Copson."

"Ignore her," Yang whispered into Charlie's ear, "she's a bitch."
"I suppose... seeing as you've already travelled all this way to Beacon Academy, I can allow you to partake in the Festival just this once. But first, I would appreciate it if all eight of you came to my office. And don't think I won't know when it's just Mr. Arc in a cosplay wig, Miss Long. I expect you to actually turn up."

***

The eight students filed into the grey-haired man's office. The room was circular, and was painted in a dour, dull grey, except for one large, clock-shaped, window behind his wooden desk. In lieu of a proper ceiling, the grey-haired man had instead opted for several iron cogs, hanging suspended in mid-air and not touching one another. How they still managed to move in unison is anyone's guess, but nonetheless they did.

The students saw the row of eight wooden seats and sat down in (or in Emily's case, was unceremoniously plonked onto) them. From left to right, the order was: Emmie, Weiss, Billy, Charlie, Blake, Kerian, Ruby, and Yang. "You may be wondering why I summoned you all here. First of all, I'm Professor Ozpin. Before any of you smartarses say anything, I know Team RWBY knows that. I am specifically addressing... you lot. Why are you here?"
"To compete in the Vytal Festival Tournament." Charlie answered, showing no emotion whatsoever. "But why, specifically, at Beacon Academy?"
"You have comfy beds. And I love a good bed, right guys?" (RoytGoiys )
"Well, I suppose that if Miss Rose, as a team leader, allowed you to, you could sleep in their dorm. But that's entirely her prerogative, I'm afraid. So, Miss Rose?"
"Yeah Rubes! Whaddya say?" Yang asked her sister expectantly. "The more the merrier!" Ruby replied jubilantly, her silver eyes glistening. "Well, in that case, only one thing remains to be said. Good luck, my scouts are always watching."
"Thank you, Professor Ozpin." Kerian replied, bowing his head. "Now you may leave, with the exception of you." Ozpin decreed, pointing the end of his polished cane at Emily, who was in great discomfort due to the ice that encased her dodgy knees melting, and beginning to trickle down her legs like dog piss trickling down a lamppost.

"You and I need to talk about a few things."