Homeless Bunny (RWBY/Campione)

Homeless Bunny 24

Malcolm Powers

I bolted out of bed. My wife was screaming, a piercing shriek that sent stabbing pain into my eardrums. Her panic banished the fog of sleep and sent my heart pounding into my throat.

"What? What?" I shouted. My hand went into the top drawer of my bedside table. I always kept my pistol nearby, just in case. You could never trust those animals.

The nightlight on Samantha's side of the bed was on. She was holding something in her hand. Her hands shook like leaves in the wind. No, not something, a severed head.

"Holy shit!" I slapped it out of her hand and it fell to the ground with a dull thunk. That, more than anything, drew me out of my mounting panic. I took a closer look and felt hysterical laughter bubble up in my throat. "S-Sam, relax, that's just fruit."

"Wha-"

"Fruit. A pumpkin. See?"

"I-What the hell? Did you do this, Malcolm?"

"What? No!"

I got up and turned on the light. The shadows that loomed long were banished, revealing a head-sized pumpkin. It had been carved and polished meticulously until it could have sat alongside a marble bust in a museum. The only part of the pumpkin that looked rough was the base of the "neck," which had been left intentionally shredded and dipped in some kind of crimson syrup to give the illusion of a painful death.

I knew who he was: Colonel Powers, a war hero of the Faunus Revolution, my grand-uncle. He was one of the leaders of the humanist faction in Vale, the one who wanted to protect human jobs and livelihoods and paid for it with his life. He'd been captured and beheaded when he refused to disclose the location of faunus prisoners, a patriot to the end.

My heartbeat had just began to settle when it kicked up with a passion. Rage, hot, burning rage filled me. Someone had clearly done their research about my family, and turned my ancestor's good name into a sick mockery.

I could guess who. It didn't take a genius to tell; only a filthy faunus would spit on a man's legacy like this.

"M-Malcolm, look," Samantha whispered.

She was pointing at the shelves and walls. We weren't much for decorating. Sam had a few ornaments, a cracked geode with pretty colors, and a few self-help books, but we weren't the sort to overstuff the shelves. We liked things nice and tidy. And that made the carrots stand out all the more.

Carrots. Carrots were fucking everywhere. They'd been carved into stick figures, each posed as if in mid-execution. One was even hanging off my coat rack, its broken neck carved so accurately that even a coroner would be impressed. Another had been dunked into the glass of water Sam kept by the table, with oversized feet that could only be cement boots. Everywhere I looked, a macabre scene greeted me.

The walls that had been dyed a deep, unsettling crimson, presumably to add to the ambiance. The paint was still glossy, still wet, and caught the light like fresh blood. Atop the red was a silver emblem: a stylized rabbit's head overlaid inside a crescent moon. Beneath the bunny was my police badge, shattered into pieces and stapled haphazardly to the wall. There was a message too:

The King of the Moonlit Famiglia sends his regards.

I laughed, more because I had no idea how else to react. What kind of moron left this kind of evidence? It was ridiculous, so over the top that it stopped being intimidating and circled straight back around to being funny.

Almost

I was going to find the bastards that did this and I was going to wear their fucking pelts like hats.

Sam tugged on my shirt. "Honey, do you smell that?"

"What? I don't smell anyth-"

"Smoke."

"Shit! Out! Out! Out!"

Acrid smoke began to sting my eyes as I grabbed some essentials and woke up the kids. They were almost as pissed as I was, but I'd rather they be inconvenienced than inhaling smoke. As I left, I noticed a sound I hadn't noticed before: the dryer was running for some fucking reason.

I tried to shut it off, it was probably what was causing all this smoke, but by then, the fire had spread to the door and I couldn't get inside. This was what I got for getting one of those "whisper-quiet" models.

Being a police family, it didn't take long for emergency services to come to my house. Nor was it difficult to find the exact source of the fire. They got the fire under control in a few minutes. It could have been bad but it hadn't had enough time to spread from the laundry room.

My hands shook with anger as I held clumps of hair. More specifically, fur. Thick, short, sinfully soft, and oh so flammable.

"I don't know how this got into your dryer vent, detective," the fire chief said. "You and your boys have a pet?"

"No, no we don't," I said, barely suppressing my anger. The good fireman didn't deserve me exploding on him.

"Well, I don't even know what animal this is."

I could guess. "Rabbit. It's fucking rabbit."

"How can you tell?"

"I… Call it a hunch."

X

Semifreddo

I looked down at the detective and his family. They all made it out without a single scratch, just as planned. I wouldn't have bothered having the picciotto wake the wife if I wanted them to burn with the house.

No, that would be too easy. Tonight was merely a declaration of intent, something to let him know that the famiglia was onto him.

He would not find death's merciful embrace. As a proud soldato of the Moonlit Famiglia, the wishes of his majesty were my reason for existence. And his majesty has demanded that Malclom Powers suffer.

With a cheerful grin, I hopped away.

X

Tianyu Yue

I hummed happily as I stirred my pot of adasi. Adasi, or Persian lentil soup, was one of the more popular breakfast foods in Iran. I'd learned it from the great aunt of a friend who agreed to host me for a few days during my travels. It usually consisted of lentils, onions, and dried mint and had a mild, hearty flavor that soothed the soul for the day ahead.

Personally, I also liked to add tumeric, allspice, and paprika along with small cubes of pan-seared pork belly for additional richness. It wasn't traditional, and if I was being honest, wasn't strictly an improvement over the recipe I'd been taught, but I found that the added pieces of pre-fried bacon helped mesh the dish with a more American palate.

Next to that simmering pot were two, large frying pans filled with a spinach omelet, another Iranian staple. A bit of goat cheese helped it stand out from a more typical diner-style omelet the people of Vale seemed to favor.

I'd prepared an extra-large batch today. The portions I'd taken to making had steadily grown each morning. Weiss claimed that she "had the right to start each day in her brother's company." Ruby then followed her, claiming "partner privileges," and shot me the most pitiful puppy eyes I'd ever seen. After that, it felt rude to exclude the other half of team RWBY.

Not that I minded of course.

Food is life. Cooking is art. Cuisine is history.

So long as there were people to feed, I was happy.

"Come in, Oz," I said. I'd heard his footsteps. The distinct knock of a cane was unmistakable. In a blur, I poured out another mug of coffee for the addict. "You may as well join us for breakfast."

"Ozpin?" Amber asked. Out of everyone on my team, she alone had the manners to at least pretend she wasn't stuffing her face as fast as humanly possible. "What are you doing here?"

"That's Headmaster Ozpin, Amber. Really, I'd have thought you'd have some proper etiquette," Weiss sniffed.

"Why? I grew up on a farm. Besides, the old goat almost got me killed. Technically, we can drop the 'almost.'"

"What?" Blake asked, briefly raising her head from her omelet.

"What?" Amber replied innocently.

Ozpin coughed awkwardly as he picked up the mug. "You know, if you didn't insist on traveling without an esco-"

"Still your divorce."

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Hmm… Nah."

"Wait, Professor Ozpin was married?" Yang asked. Next to her, Ruby, who'd been there when Oz and Glynda gave me the rundown in jail, let out a haunted whimper. There were secrets she definitely wasn't ready for.

I clapped to stop the budding argument. "None of that, Amber. He technically wasn't responsible for you getting ambushed."

Oz took a sip of his joe and hummed in contentment. "Thank you, Tianyu."

"By all means, give him shit over the messiest divorce in history but not over breakfast. Conversations that ruin the meal are prohibited."

"Oh, that's what you're concerned with?" Yang muttered under her breath.

"Duh. Do you not know bun-bun by now?" my partner replied. "So, what's up, old man?"

"I came to check in with Tianyu over an interesting story I'd heard. A certain detective's house burned down, you know."

All eyes snapped to me. "I take it that this is the same detective who called me a White Fang terrorist?"

"Quite."

"Well, I honestly have no idea how that could have happened."

"You'll have to forgive an old man his suspicions."

"I don't know what to tell you, Oz. I haven't visited Vale this week."

"Yeah, Tianyu wouldn't do that," Ruby defended me like the adorable puppy she was.

"Can confirm. If fluffy wants to off someone, he'd just go punch a hole through their chest. He wouldn't bother burning their house down," Melanie said. Then, when everyone looked at her with horror, she shrugged. "What? We were all thinking it."

"Melanie's right. I tend to be a bit more direct if I want someone dead. It comes with being a Campione; we're not really known for our patience and restraint. But, again, I really didn't have anything to do with this one," I repeated.

Weiss buried her head in her palms. "Oh, Brothers, my brother is a murderer."

"Untrue. A Campione is king over whatever nation he chooses to occupy unless it is already claimed by another Campione. Murder is the taking of another human life via unlawful means. I am the king and therefore the law. Ergo, I factually cannot commit murder."

"... and delusional…"

Ozpin coughed uncomfortably. He still didn't know what a Campione was exactly, he had no context for that here on Remnant, but he could sense mana. The constant outpouring of mana I gave off that could rival an elder god like Odin or Amaterasu gave him a good idea of what I meant.

He flipped his scroll around and presented it to me. "Be that as it may, are you certain you had nothing to do with this?"

On the screen was a wall with a silver rabbit's head encircled by a crescent moon. Beneath it read:

The King of the Moonlit Famiglia sends his regards.

I could feel Weiss' judgmental glare. "Tianyu, did you commit terrorism because someone accused you of being a terrorist?"

"No…?"

"Then pray tell why someone left your emblem as a calling card."

"It's not my emblem," I muttered. "It doesn't have any kitchen utensils."

"That's your takeaway here?"

"Okay, maybe the Cuddles Crew were a bit… overeager…"

"The Cuddles Crew?" Ozpin asked. He looked about as baffled as any other world leader I'd ever dealt with, which put him in good company.

"Bunnies given sentience and superpowers. I themed them after the mafia. You know, a boss, underboss, crew chief, soldiers, the works."

"What exactly did you tell them to do?"

"I just said they should inconvenience Detective Powers!"

"Yes, being homeless is rather inconvenient," Blake chimed in, then coughed awkwardly. "N-Not that I'd know anything about that of course…"

I sighed. "Fine, so I ought to speak with my bunnies."

"Yes, that would be prudent," Oz said, sipping at his coffee. "Will you be in Vale today?"

"Yeah, I need to check on the club and make sure the twins don't humiliate Yang too much."

"Yes, you need to put a stop to this foolish 'Moonlit Famiglia' business," Weiss sniffed. "Do you have any idea how scandalous it would be to have a respected huntsman at the helm of a crime syndicate?"

The twins looked at each other, then promptly burst out laughing.

"Hahaha, you're hilarious, princess," Miltia giggled.

"What? What's so funny?"

"Most crime syndicates are led by a huntsman, former or otherwise."

"That's not true! Sure, some of those ruffians might have aura, but they're hardly huntsmen."

My partner scarfed down the last of her omelet and waved her fork at Yang. "Blondie's mom is one of the most wanted women alive and leads the strongest bandit tribe in the world. She's a Beacon graduate."

Melanie joined in, waving vaguely in the direction of team VALN's dorm room. "That chameleon girl was actually White Fang, unlike our bun-bun. Pretty sure she'll go right back to them if/when she leaves Beacon."

"She wouldn't!" Blake cut in. "Ilia's not like that!"

"If you say so. Anyway, what I'm saying is: Crime and huntsmen have a funny relationship. It's not as unusual as you'd think to have a huntsman or several in a crime family."

"W-Well it's still wrong!" Weiss said. "Just because someone else does it doesn't mean it's right! Would you jump off a cliff because someone told you to?"

"Yes. We all did. Last week in fact," Melanie replied dryly.

Weiss' face was burning a nice, rosy hue. It was so adorable that I couldn't help myself. I slung an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into a side-hug. "Cheer up, big-little sister. You will be the head of the SDC one day. I will conquer the underworld. And together, we shall rule all of Remnant with an iron fist! Mwahahahahaha!"

My "little sister" sputtered incoherently, though whether in embarrassment or rage was anyone's guess. She wiggled out of my embrace and tried to elbow me in the kidney. "No! You're not going to be a mafioso! And the SDC won't get involved with organized crime!"

"You sure about that?" Miltiades drawled. "How sure are you that, if Mel and I started digging, we wouldn't find a shitload of connections from corrupt politicians back to Jacques Schnee?"

"W-Well…"

"Or are you saying corruption, embezzlement, bribery, and extortion are okay but a good ol' protection racket or gambling ring is wrong?"

"They're both wrong! A-And! When I take over the SDC, things will be different!"

"If you really think about it, there is very little difference between a mafia and a predatory corporation like the SDC," Blake said. She had on a stoic mask but she couldn't fool me. She was enjoying herself more than she'd care to admit. Clearly, with her status as ex-Fang out, she didn't get along with her white-haired teammate. "They're both institutional structures designed to consolidate wealth for those at the very top, to the detriment of everyone else."

"Oh, so says the terrorist!"

"We're not terrorists! We're freedom fighters! And you know what? At least a gang protects the people it has under its rule to make money, whereas the SDC is notorious for its labor violations."

This was quickly getting out of hand. I'd likely have to intervene between Blake and Weiss eventually, especially if that Ilia girl got involved, but this wasn't the time for this particular can of worms.

My finger blurred, and with it the Wooden Spoon of Gentle Guidance. Two sharp, satisfying cracks filled the air. Both girls reeled back, clutching their abused noses.

"Ow!"

"Why me!"

"Both of you, knock it off," I chided. "In any case, I'll be having words with Cuddles so you can relax. They've been out for only a few days. I doubt they've caused too much trouble."

"R-Right. There are only five of those big bunnies," Weiss said. "The argument is moot because you can't start a true mafia with five bunnies. We're blowing things out of proportion. It's not like Tianyu can conquer the underworld without even leaving Beacon."

Pointed silence from Oz, Ruby, Yang, and my team was the answer.

"Right…?"

X

In hindsight, giving Capo Cuddles such a long leash may have been a mistake. Not that he wasn't loyal, of course. He was an anointed beast, uplifted by the power of a divine Authority. He was as loyal as they came. The problem was, he was a little too eager to sing my praises, and ensure that everyone else sang the same song.

My team plus Yang approached the club. It was late morning, many hours before the club would open. Junior's had recovered from Yang's rampage, but I'd almost have preferred the ruined decor to this. The "Junior's" logo outside had been changed. Now, a white rabbit slept inside the "o," relaxing languidly as if it owned the place.

Below, on one wall right next to the bar menu, was a sign that read, "All bunnies eat free." That was fine. That was tasteful, even, a quiet homage to yours truly.

No, what wasn't fine was everything else. The interior had been remodeled again, the second time post-Yang, to include as many bunnies as possible. The wallpaper had been replaced by a black and gold diamond pattern. Inside each diamond was a white rabbit with a black bowtie and a cigar. Each booth had a table with a glass statue of the same. An oil painting of six bunnies playing poker sat behind the bar. I didn't even want to know where Junior found it. Hell, even the lights had been replaced by glass bunnies.

The boys weren't immune to these changes either. Instead of those tacky, orange ties, they had even tackier, blood-red ties with little, white bunny heads on them. The orange sunglasses had been replaced with the same, red-hued shades, except the frames were now in the shape of bunnies. Worst of all, they were all wearing pink bunny slippers.

And, to put the cherry on top of this bizarre cake, everyone was wearing bunny ears. Big. Fluffy. Foot-long. Bunny ears.

Off in the corner, I could see that someone had taken DJ Teddy out to the farm. The teddy bear head had been replaced by a big, white bunny with crimson eyes that glowed with inlaid LED lights.

"Okay," I admitted, "I may have underestimated my bunnies, slightly."

"Slightly?" Amber asked, eyebrow raised in judgment. She tried valiantly but I could see her suppressing her laughter.

The twins, however, had zero shame.

"Hahahahaha! L-Look, we have a DJ Bunny now! Hahahaha!" Miltia laughed.

I jabbed Miltia in the side but that just made her laugh even louder. "It's not funny!"

"Hahahaha, it is. It's fucking hilarious."

I ignored them, even when Yang joined the twins on the ground, wheezing for breath. Instead, I grabbed the first mook I could find by his stupid tie.

"You. Junior. Where?" I growled.

"U-Upstairs, bunnyfather, sir!" he squeaked out.

That got them cracking up all over again. I took a deep breath. It wasn't his fault. He probably had no say in how the club was decorated, or what stupid shit Junior decided was fit for a gang uniform. And maybe, if I told myself that enough times, I wouldn't feel the need to punt him to the moon.

I was about to stalk off but was stopped by Amber placing a calming hand on my shoulder.

"Is this so bad?" she asked. She'd mostly gotten it out of her system.

"It's embarrassing," I grumbled. "Look at all this!"

"Yes, but think of the silver lining before you go off to do something you might regret later."

I took a deep breath. Amber was right; angry-Tianyu did silly things, things that tended to upend the global economy. Then again, Amber had exactly zero experience running an organization, never mind a mob. I was curious. "Please, enlighten me. What silver lining?"

Amber shrugged with a sheepish smile. "I don't know. I was hoping you could think of one."

"Amber…"

"What? Hey, at least it's funny?"

I allowed myself a ghost of a smile. "Maybe a little…"

"Oh! And, you said cooking is always the most important thing!"

I nodded. "Of course it is. Food is life. Cooking is art. Cuisine is history."

"So if everyone thinks the Moonlit Famiglia is a joke, no one will bother you, right?" she tried. And, I had to give it to her; that was a very good point. "That detective you're upset with is probably going to look really stupid if the mobsters all dress like this."

"You do raise some valid points…"

"So…?"

"So I should lean into this. The dumber we all look, the more likely I am to be left alone." I gave Amber a big hug. "You're a genius!"

She preened. "I have my moments."

I turned to the twins. "Say, do either of you know a good tailor?"

Melanie stopped giggling long enough to answer. "Yeah, why?"

"I'm thinking we need new uniforms. You know, have some fun with this whole shitshow Junior calls interior decorating. Know what a playboy bunny is?"

"No?"

"Right, Hugh Hefner isn't a thing here. Think fishnet stockings, a one-piece swimsuit with a built-in pushup bra, and a set of starched collar and wrists without the sleeves or jacket. Oh, and a bowtie and bunny ears."

"Sounds kinky. Wait… No… You wouldn't…"

"I mean, look around. I think Junior's already done the hard part of decorating. We may as well go all-in. It strikes me that we have four attractive ladies to help wait tables."

"Wait, why am I included?" Yang asked, horrified.

"Because sex sells and you owe money."

"I'm not wearing that," Amber said. "No way am I going to be caught in something so… risqué."

"But, Amber, dear, you're the one who said I should lean into this nonsense," I replied with a vicious grin.

Author's Note

I legitimately have no clue what I'm doing with this fic. Usually, I have some idea of what I'm going to write next, but this one's been an adventure. I think it might be because I started writing this when I was drunk and now sober-Fable is trying to keep up with this, really stupid story idea.

Either way, have a bunny fact: Rabbits show happiness by hopping into the air and twisting their heads and bodies in opposite directions. The act is called a "binky." No, I don't know why.

Thank you for reading. Believe it or not, this is the seventh website I've crossposted to. I want to make sure this site catches up with the others, but it's slow, tedious work. Until then, other sites will have a much more updated library of my works. If you want to read ahead, or check out other stories I've written, you can find them all on my Link Tree: https://linktr.ee/fabled.webs.