This next tale begins in a hallway. A hallway long and tall, with one side allowing enough sun to stream in through clear, glass rectangles with rounded tops to illuminate the other wall, which was spotted with doors. The carpet, a dark red pattern, muffled the sound of steps made by the trickling stream of students that was quickly expanding to fill most of its width. Class had been dismissed and students streamed out of rooms chatting amicably about their plans for the rest of the day, while others waited or tried to push their way in, and still others looking at course books whilst squatting outside a door.

Two female students, one wearing a beret despite being indoors, maneuvered through this fray with an air of experience, despite being in the youngest age group, as years of schooling prior to Beacon had prepared them for this writhing obstacle course.

The mass of students, moving as though a single organism, was struck a blow. A collective gasp from one location seemed to sweep through its swarming parts as a hole was ripped through its center. In that strikingly empty patch of hallway stood two young, female students as the eye of the storm. Attempting to become part of the crowd wall, but rejected with a shove and enlarging of the gap, was a male student, likely their same age.

As the onlooking students pushed their way back, the trickling whispers of what had transpired gave way to a quiet hum of gossip. The clear area now spanned the width of the hallway and nearly the same distance down its length in a curved square. Some pushed to get close and watch, others wanted nothing more than to get to class unharmed, none more so than the young man desperately attempting to become an invisible member of the student body once more. However, this was not a wish that would be granted today, for he had bumped into a member of the notorious team . . .

"Pink," the single word that escaped his lips nigh inaudibly with an air of reverence.

Nearly entrapment, how was any student to recognize the team exalted as harbingers of destruction attired in the uniform that adorned every student? Perhaps without the exaggerated reaction from the student body his transgression might have gone unnoticed. Perhaps if it had been a lone member of the team, perhaps one of them was more sane, or at least forgiving. Alas, he was not so fortunate this day.

The silence of the two female students, and that of the bystanders only heightened by the murmurs flowing through, was broken by sudden sound. The reticence was cracked by a giggle, and shattered as the sound quickly morphed into the full-body cackle of the companion to the student he had so regrettably bumped into. Cutting through the anticipatory stillness as sharp as any blade, the eerie display of mirth halted abruptly at its peak. With the sound gone, all that remained was the occasional nervous shuffling from a member of the audience; the young man appeared so fearful the he might fall to the floor given just another minute of delay.

Unfortunately for this student, this pair from PNNC had not come from class, but a weapons maintenance lab they utilized in an empty period.

A chink of metal alerted the entirety of the hallway, refueling the drive for some students to push for a good vantage point, and eliciting a whimper from the ill-fated young man.

The mouth from which the laughter that would soon fill his nightmares was emitted now smiled as a side swing with an upward curve fell just shy of skimming their audience. A puff of pink formed a new, larger window from two on the wall behind the female duo. The regretful instigator was fast enough to take advantage of his narrow warning to collect aura at his abdomen, saving some organ functionality. His body was propelled upward, force in plenty to take him far beyond the controlled arc of the hammer. As his body disconnected from the weapon, any relief was short lived as the ceiling of the corridor prepared its own assault upon his back.

Chunks and powder from plaster rained down upon the collected students from not only the ceiling, but the next floor and roof above it. Nora struck a pose, leaning against her hammer, a hand over her eyes to shield them as she attempted to stare out through to the sky overhead.

The dust settled, the collected audience began to recall their original purposes in the hallway filling it with a mounting return of conversation. Coco grabbed her satisfied team mate's arm and began to drag her through the throngs whilst grumbling to herself, "One week. Not one week without an incident. Maybe if we leave, Ozpin won't know. That's dumb. It is always our team. It's always team PNNC. One day someone else will do something and we'll get blamed without a second thought. They might not even bother to let us know they are blaming us having given up on punishment. Ha! If only."

Pushing through the fringe of the gathered students, Coco stole a look back to her charge. Nora had folded her hammer back up and sheathed it. With an extra tug Coco continued her march, and her vocalized thoughts, this time at a speaking volume for Nora's benefit.

"Penny will not be happy about this. What's the point of being called into the headmaster's office anyway? We already know what Ozpin'll say, and he must have figured out by now that those words don't stop it." she lamented, dreading the summons, dreading Penny's disappointment and exasperation. Coco was embittered as well, she thought more highly of herself than trouble maker. Even at their best, it seemed the team would still find itself treading on thin ice on the sea of mischief. She could have - should have made more of an effort to stop her team mate. But would it have done any good? Unlikely, but without having tried it could not be argued.

Coco and Nora reached the door to their room, both looking up to it, blinking in surprise that they made it. There was not any reason to expect a member of the school's staff to intercept them, their room number and schedule readily available, but rash actions are almost certainly accompanied by rash thoughts.

Nora smiled at the door, expecting the one who led her here to open it. She always liked to pause outside of it anyway, and admire her handiwork. Not long after team selection PNNC had formed a reputation, one the members of the team were not terribly fond of. Within the first month, one, or perhaps multiple, students had carved the student body's preferred epithet for the team diagonally across the door while the team was eating dinner. 'Wreckage'. Each stroke was made up of several slashes, some too long, some lines merely deep while others striped wide.

Now, though, the word was obscured. Five sheets of paper, lined up vertically down the door and taped on, had been arranged carefully, with some minor overlaps or off angles. Each sheet had a single letter, meticulously drawn and artfully decorated with designs or patterns in shades of pink and orange. They spelled out 'SMASH', the informal team name that Nora was determined to make stick to overrule 'wreckage' as their peers' favorite; it may have primarily applied to her, but it was not far off from Coco's own fighting style as well and more importantly was not merely given from without but a designation of a teammate's own design.