NC

"The Headmaster…" Bart sighed, "has killed Santa."

…

Wait, what?

Glynda sighed explosively as she collapsed back in her seat, a fierce frown on her face – and Jaune could understand why. They'd woke them up early in the morning for a practical joke!? Right then, see if he gave Ozpin that rare Vacuan coffee set he'd saved up for. It was going right down the toilet.

"Santa doesn't exist," the blonde woman waved her hand. The two of them flinched however when something was thrown on the desk between them, a large red figure – made more so by the copious amount of blood – spilled across the mahogany.

"Not anymore he doesn't." Peter Port said, huffing loudly as he wiped sweat and blood from his brow.

"Fuck." Jaune summarised, even as Glynda's head fell into her hands.

"It's worse than you realise Mr Arc," the Headmaster sighed, "tell me – what is it that Santa brings to little boys and girls on this day?"

"Presents?"

"I was hoping for something a little less material." The older man sighed, even as Jaune blushed.

"Oh right…. Uh, joy and happiness and all that?"

"And all that," the man nodded. "And let us continue this hypothetical situation once more, if someone were to per se kill Santa," Glynda groaned angrily at the man's words, "then what might little boys and girls feel on the morrow?"

"Well… the opposite, sad and disappointed I guess."

"Exactly, and again hypothetically – but not exactly – what increases Grimm attack rates?"

"Oh…" Jaune caught on immediately, his face going white.

"Oh indeed…" the Headmaster wiped his face once more. "All those children across the four Kingdoms, all feeling a surge of negativity at the exact same time, in our most populated areas? Let me just say that the tale of the Grimm before Christmas might become very literal this year."

Oh Gods… it was going to be a Grimmpocalypse. All four Kingdoms attacked at once, huge numbers of Grimm surging over every area where children were – which was pretty much everywhere. This was… this was bad – very bad.

[...]

"You will take Vale Mr Arc," the Headmaster said as he took the fourth reindeer, leaving a particularly evil looking one for Jaune. It was frothing at the mouth badly. "While you're handling the city, see to Beacon as well won't you? And don't forget the visiting dignitaries!"

[...]

The golden dust-imbued reins in his hand felt light and flimsy.

He needed to be fast… very fast…

[...]

One golden brow raised as he stroked his chin.

"Look, we need to work together," Jaune cried, even as he pulled on the reins – fighting to retain control. "This is for the good of everyone, can't you understand that!?"

Furious eyes looked back, promising more than murder – torture, humiliation, followed by slow, agonising death.

"Okay, so you don't care about that," Jaune sighed as his message fell flat, "I get that – I do! But the Grimm are a threat to everyone, and if those children don't get their presents then we're screwed." For a moment it looked like he was getting through, and he leaned closer – only to back away as teeth flashed, nearly taking off his nose.

Those eyes, baleful and deadly. He didn't want to meet them, but dared not look away.

"I know that you didn't sign up for this," he tried to reason, appealing to its gentler nature – if it had one. "And I know that you are full-well planning my murder right now, but can't we just work together for once!?"

Two brows seemed to raise.

"Okay yes, I did maybe attack you while you were sleeping," he admitted, "but come on Neo – you'd never have agreed to this."

[...]

"Away Neo!" He cried, pointing out into the distance, "to save Christmas." The girl snorted angrily, almost like the reindeer really, before reality seemed to fold in on itself, him squeezing through a tiny tunnel.

[...]

Was it the… sixteenth-hundredth house they'd entered? He'd sort of lost count after the first thousand. Either way the two teleported into the living room of the house with their usual silence, though it was punctuated a second later by a loud thud as Neo collapsed to the carpet panting.

Jaune settled the rickety desk chair with one hand as he stepped by her, patting her pink locks gently even as she tried to muster the energy to bite his ankles.

[...]

"I'll take Vale, and have my lads work on it too. With all my goons working on it, we should be done in two hours or so." Roman waved as Jaune's chair trundled by, "you focus on Beacon and we'll call it done."

"Thanks Roman," Jaune nodded as he cracked the reins once more, both he and Roman wincing as the aura of malice before them grew. "Anyway, I'll maybe see you again, if Neo's merciful."

[...]

Ghosting from the room the tired giver of gifts stooped, draping the dozing Neo across one shoulder as he made his way back to his rooms.