A Better Place, A Better Time
So, this is an attempt at freeing my own mind of the insurmountable nonsense that lives up there. I was planning on doing a RWBY AU way back when, but it didn't feel like the right time. This narrative isn't going to veer too far from the original story, however, it will deviate slightly per my own request. Let's just say it takes place somewhere after team RWBY is formed with an additional member on their team. I have a feeling that OC's aren't really favoured in the fanfiction community but this isn't a traditional, "I have a story I want to share, please enjoy", it's more of a way for me to externalise my eternal love for RWBY and the great man who created it, Monty Oum.
Chapter 1: Piecing it Together
Nature's first green is gold,
An orange glow filled the darkened streets of Vale on a night when, by most people's reasoning, they should be quiet. Within the incandescent bulb's radius, a figure stood clutching a dimly lit lamp in one hand, and in the other, a blade of considerate length. His hand lowered as he lay the light source down on cold cobbles, a dark piece of fabric obstructing its luminosity. The shadow crouched low and looked onward towards a nearby dust shop that had recently been robbed by the infamous Roman Torchwick.
"Suppose he'll think twice before messing with our resident scythe-wielder again." The air separated against the man's deep and raspy voice, knowing better than to stand in its way. It's not as if the air has a way of thinking. It isn't as though it can form opinions or state facts. It couldn't even determine the accent with which the man spoke (a deep British accent). However, it had an inherent feeling; one that told every atom that formed its existence not to be a hindrance. As if air could be as such.
Searching the area for any hidden clue that the police may have missed, he re-positioned himself in an awkward stance, fingering the ground aimlessly. A smirk found its way to his lips and he sighed internally, noting a cigar butt that had been carelessly tossed away. 'Classic Roman.' He thought, before being distracted by a rustling of feet to the rear, but he took no notice, clearly satisfied with the discovery. As the man stood, the long, flowing black coat that he donned whipped around his waist and, soon, nothing remained but the air that had previously been there, metaphorically breathing a sigh of relief at the man's departure.
Elsewhere in Vale, in a rather spacious dorm room, three adolescents were all but finished in taking turns to carry out the inane ritual one does before sleeping. Ruby peeked her head out of the bathroom door with a slight frown beginning to appear, only to fade into stoicism.
"Hey, where'd Owain go?" The redhead's voice nearing a whisper, but loud enough for her teammates to hear. The three girls, to which the question was asked, shrugged in synchronicity. Blake lay upright in bed, her eyes transfixed upon a suspiciously titled novel and she didn't even bother to look up, as doing so would mean losing her place on the page. Weiss sat at her desk, hurriedly scribbling notation after notation after, well, notation, with no signs of stopping, save only for the shrug. Yang stood beside Blake's bed, focusing her eyes on the faunus' book, trying to gain insight into her reading material. However, Yang failed, the absence of light proving to be too much of an obstacle. This was no problem for Blake, of course. The faunus' are well-known for their eyesight. Giving up, the blonde brawler turned her attention to her sister standing in the door frame.
"I dunno, dude said he was going out. Didn't say where." Her flippant attitude arousing some frustration in the small girl and the frown returned with a vengeance, mixed with some anxiety. Due to the light being emitted from the bathroom, Yang noticed her sister's expression and offered some small comfort. "Rubes, the guy's 18, he's his own man and is more than capable on his own."
Suddenly, the dorm's door was opened quietly, with not so much as a squeak from one of the hinges. Had the residents been asleep, they would hardly have noticed it's opening.
Had they been asleep.
"Ahh... bollocks. Thought you ladies would be tucked away in your beddy-bye at this time." Owain spoke with a soft tone, the clock residing on Weiss' desk affirming his suspicions that it was late, even for him. For a moment, no one commented as the dark ranger removed his coat and laid it on the tenterhook protruding from the door. Blake's amber pupils did not leave the book she was reading, Weiss' hand did not cease its incessant writing, the exception being a slight recoil after hearing the familiar curse; Yang stretched her arms above her head, turning to flash a grin in Owain's direction. Finally, after the awkward silence became too unbearable even for her, Ruby raised an eyebrow and began speaking:
"Soooo, where you been?" The sweet innocence of her voice shining through her words as she finished her question, prompting her teammate to respond. Setting himself down on his small but accommodating cot, he sighed and answered the small girl without hesitation,
"Just out." His knew this answer would not satisfy and, although he wasn't looking at Ruby, Owain knew for a fact her expression was inciting him to continue. "I was looking for any traces that Torchwick may have left behind. It was a long shot." Owain smiled and reclined onto his linen laced mattress, finding a comfortable position and laying there.
"Did you find anything?" To everyone's surprise, it was Blake that spoke up, finally deeming the conversation worthy enough to peel herself away from her novel. She dog-eared the page and sat up straight, awaiting a response. A sly grin grew large against the pale face that Owain wore and he fumbled around in his pocket for a short second, only to reveal the same cigar butt from earlier. Unwavering, though his smile was, the piece of evidence did nothing for the raven-haired girl and she simply huffed, "That could be anyone's." Of course, there was truth in this statement. Lots of people all throughout Remnant smoked. Hell, Owain was one of them. However, the cigar was expensive, not common amongst the average citizen and, more importantly, Owain witnessed Roman smoking something similar in design the first time they ever met. The red band that wrapped tightly around the carcinogenic was of specific origin, which meant he had a destination and soon, he would have Roman Torchwick.
"Trust me Blake, it's his. And now I know where we need to head next." His grin grew somewhat as he turned to address all of them.
"A little place I like to call... home."
Hope that suffices for now. Any and all reviews are welcome as well as appreciated. Lemme know if you guys want more of this cause I could do with the outlet and the rest of it is already waiting to be put to paper. Thank you for reading!