Epilogue Part 3 – Pumpkin Pete and the Blooming Rose

A/N: Yeeeeaaah…Same day, same situation, absolutely winging it. I'll edit it afterwards so it doesn't stink like a rotting corpse. Note: I'M SO SORRY! I can kinda do that sometimes. I just wasn't feeling it when I started this chapter, but I want it to be out at least a little after the Blake and Yang chapter. This one is a couple years after the other epilogues and it's going to be pretty fun. In this chapter, society has completely resettled into living in a civilized manner. Also, dust was, before this, used as a form of currency and that only. In this chapter, everything about dust, including its energetic features has been discovered. Also, if you noticed last chapter, the description Ruby gave Ember Celica was "highly experimental," meaning that I meant for the entirety of this story, not including this chapter, to be strictly modern times weapons only, meaning before season one even started. Enjoy.

Flashes from the crowd's cameras blinded me. I was walked to a seat by a wall, heavily guarded by men I had made weapons for. I sat down in the seat and was bombed by questions. A shrill whistle sounded from behind me, signaling the crowd to silence.

"Before I begin, the rules are as follows: No questions concerning the past events of humanity as a whole. I will take personal questions and any others about my skills in manufacturing weapons."

A brown haired, brown eyed Rabbit faunus sat down next to me, and shouted to the crowd in a shy tone, "You may begin."

Conferences like this were exactly what I hated about being too good at what I do. Weapons…You can't live with them, but you can't live without them. Quite literally.

I called on a particularly angry newscaster from VNN.

"I'd like to ask a question to Ms. Scarlatina."

"Fire away, Lavender."

"Why did you provoke us all into fighting over you two on your own porch?"

"Because it was fun to watch professionals act so unprofessionally."

"Next question, Lavender."

"For Ruby, What are your views on the faunus-human racial tension?"

"What do you think, Lavender?"

"You support the faunus?"

"No…I think that both sides have convincing arguments, but that fighting over it will bring it no end. All this fighting and killing and hurting and blackmailing are all pointless. It's all so stupid. Just because someone has a spare pair of ears doesn't mean they should be punished. And to the Protestors for faunus rights, just because someone hates you for the sake of hating you doesn't mean that they can't be forgiven."

I mean, besides…What good will fighting do if all that was required were a few choice words and a piece of paper? We'd be at the mercy of the third party, the neutral one. The "simple soul," if you will.

A small shop shone brightly in the darkness of uptown Vale, now cleansed of the monstrosity it had become. From Dust Till Dawn was its name. Ever since the Schnee Dust company started up in the year 10 After Apocalypse, (10 A.A.) the market for the newly discovered energy propellant had boomed. Although, it wasn't popular with everyone, like it would soon become.

A girl in a white cloak was sitting at the back of the shop, reading an article on the uses of combat scythes. She sat in silence, her brown eyes fixated on every small detail of the scythe in question.

She marveled at the many applications that the weapon had that weren't as obvious as the complete destruction of a forest in one slice.

"There's a sniper on that thing? I hadn't noticed…I'll have to give that a try sometime. Soon, maybe."

"Put your hands in the air, kid."

"I'm sorry? I was only reading the magazine, I wasn't gonna steal it."

"I said, put your hands in the air!"

"You don't sound like the guy who runs the shop…Are you…Robbing me?"

"I mean, that's the idea, kid."

"Bad. Idea."

"Please. Just take my lien and leave!"

"We don't want your money, we want your dust. Grab some, boys."

A man in a bowler hat, black pea coat and an eye patch just visible under his straight, gray hair spoke menacingly to the cashier of the shop. All of the men were left speechless, however, when a white blur had smashed through the window of the shop. Rising out of the crouched position the blur had landed in, a white cloak flapped gracefully in the wind.

"Summer Rose the second, at your service. I hope you're all wearing your brown pants, because the mess you'll make will probably show through."

"Well? Get her!" the man said, obviously angry.

Later on, atop the roof of an apartment complex, the man stood in the open hatch of a cargo carrier, looking down on the young girl in white.

"Sorry, Summer, I suppose you'll be surprised at just where you'll find me. Anyway, this old fart had better get back to his retirement home. See you in Fall, Summer!"

"I don't think so. Roman! What happened man? First, you save the world from a virus, and then you try and destroy it again?"

"Red! I didn't know you'd be here! This is awesome! How's Velvet?"

"Come down here and I'll tell you!"

"Just like old times, eh, Red?"

"Yeah…Just like old times. I'd just feel a little better if my bad guy catching record wasn't 0 – 5 at this point."

"See ya later!"

"See ya."

"Who was that?" Asked Summer.

"Roman Torchwick."

"No, are you serious?"

"Is it that hard to believe that that guy is behind your favorite kind of cereal?"

"Wait, what?"