Ninjas of Love

"Weird" Al Yangovic

Roughly forty-five minutes later, Team BECK drew up to the door of the dormitory-cum-apartment they had been sharing with Team RWBY, gifts stuffed in non-biodegradable, single-use, plastic carrier bags that carried a fairly high possibility of giving Weiss Schnee, everyone's favourite annoying environmentalist, an actual case of myocardial infarction were she to see them. As Charlie turned his key in the lock- he happened to always bring a room key and his wallet wherever he went, a habit that harked back to his younger years when he never did know quite what was around the corner- he heard the trademark click that the old, slightly dodgy lock liked to make, and pushed his weight through the door, shoulder-first.

Much to the surprise of Charlie and his teammates, they were greeted by a strangely civilised-looking and united Team RWBY. All of them- yes, even the remarkably anti-social Blake- were sat around the ever-present coffee table, all clutching mugs of hot drink and debating heatedly yet respectfully about some sort of paperwork that had been laid out, utterly disorganised, across the entire length and breadth of the table. "Heya!" Emily called out to the team, trying deliberately to be as cutesy and feminine as possible, unhappy she'd been the strongest stomached member of her team when confronted with Rosie's unique way of butchery. She looked inquisitively at the coffee table. "What are y'all talking about?"
"Yang's been showing us the words she's been working on." Weiss said, sounding like she'd rather be literally anywhere else, despite her eagerness to debate which was the least awful of the umpteen sheets seconds beforehand. "Words? I don't remember her writing any words." Emily asked, confused. "Yeah, about that." Yang answered. "Pyrrha's letting me copy her notes for Oobleck's last three lessons. The ones I spent writing these up."
"Honestly, it isn't worth it to copy Pyrrha's notes. Oobleck only spends about five per cent of his lessons actually teaching." Blake interrupted, her fatalistic outlook permeating into her assessment of Bartholomew Oobleck. "And the other 95% is spent indulging his coffee fetish." If Blake had been holding a microphone, rather than a boiling hot mug of salmon-infused tea, she would have dropped it then, and probably then retreated to the nearest library. She didn't, however, and thus she remained seated and her fishy tea remained firmly in her hand. Whether or not that's a good thing is entirely up to your own taste, and whether you have enough of it to realise salmon tea might be the worst idea ever had by Faunuskind.

"I never pegged you as a songwriter, Yang. We got a little creative prodigy?" Em ribbed her girlfriend, as she and her teammates took the remaining seats amongst the scattered RWBY members. "No, I certainly wouldn't use the word prodigious." Weiss rebutted, looking at- and periodically rolling her eyes at- one of Yang's lyric sheets. "Oh, come on, grumpy!" Billy said, trying to raise the heiress' mood. "It still takes some level of skill to write a set of song lyrics."
"I appreciate that, but Yang didn't do that. She's simply taken pre-existing songs and changed a few lyrics so they're now packed full of the most blatant and unfunny innuendo and toilet humour this side of an episode of that shitty Mrs. Brown's Boys. Look at this crap!" Weiss practically threw the sheet of paper at Emily, with true venom behind her words. Emily perused the sheet carefully. "It's not that bad, Weiss, I just thi..."
"That evil, large-titted, blonde, gauntlet-wearing bitch absolutely ruined all that is good in this world when she elected to take on the classic that is I Want It That Way." Weiss sounded angry, but was soon brought back down to being calm by the logical thought processes of Blake, of all people. "Weiss, darl- I mean, Weiss, girl, you realise that I Want It That Way is already a huge fucking innuendo? Just look at the title." Blake's calm voice soothed the brewing storm that was Weiss, as the Schnee took a small, dainty sip of her black coffee to avoid having to reply to Blake.

"I mean, you wanted me and Yang to sing as a duet, didn't you, Ruby?" Emily asked the group's resident Faunavision expert, getting a simple nod in response, as Ruby focused on her overly sweet coffee. "That means that Yang and I need to practice some of these before we pick one for certain I would imagine. Though I would like to veto singing your parody of Eminem's Stan, and whatever you've created from the Tarja Turunen song Die Alive. If that's quite alright, Yang?" Yang recognised that, although Emily had phrased her vetoes as a question, she was actually admitting, as best as she could bring herself to, that she simply couldn't sing in the way required for those songs, and thus it was no use trying to pressure her. "Sure. I can live with that." Yang said, gathering up the papers and beckoning Emily through to the bedroom to practice.

This left six in the living room, three from Team RWBY, and three from Team BECK. "Hold on." Charlie had another sudden realisation, as he often did- almost as if his mind flitted between ideas wantonly without actually committing to anything in particular for any length of time. "Who's meant to be cooking dinner tonight?" He had yet to grasp the rota, having not been in the dormitory for very long. "Oh! I think that's meant to be me!" Ruby declared emphatically, casting her Pumpkin Pete-branded mug down onto the now-empty coffee table, very nearly smashing it. "Save us." Charlie prayed to any deity who might listen, as soon as he realised Ruby was being entrusted to cook. "I think I have a better idea though." Ruby told the five remaining students, flashing a smirk specifically at Charlie- as if she thought that he would understand what she was planning on. With a giggle, she whipped her scroll out of the pocket of her combat skirt.