Team ROAD: Intros

by The Unplanner

These are introductions for a team of OCs I made up with my brother. Three of the OCs are mine, but the O in ROAD is his, so I can't write an intro for him. I might use these characters for a larger story later. Some violence and discrimination are to be expected within. This is a world where everything is a gun, after all.

1. R-Right Weapon for the Job

Team ROAD Intros

R: Right Weapon for the Job

Summary: It doesn't matter what the job is. Meet Rust Roader: Team leader, auto mechanic, multitool weaponmaster. One of four intros for my Atlesian OC team, co-created with my brother.

Author's Notes: For Rust's dad, Mr. Roader, picture the generic old guy from the first episode, and from every other time something bad happens to a generic old guy. He doesn't need a name, really, since he's only going to show up in one or two scenes.

For Rust's combat stance, think Sora from Kingdom Hearts, only with a bigger sword.

My brother's pen-name is FierceDeityMask, and he writes some good video game poetry that actually rhymes!

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"Rust, my boy! I've got another lost cause here!" An old man called out into the back room of his family-owned shop, "Rust in Peace." The family business specialized in weapon and vehicle repair.

A mop of spiky, red hair popped up behind a workbench. Rust's flame-orange eyes snapped to the doorway like a puppy who just heard the word "treat." As expected, a rusty rifle flew through the opening. It snapped into two halves when Rust caught it in his brown biker gloves. "Awesome, thanks Dad! I'll get this into my project right away!"

Rust ducked back into what used to be the dismantling room. Over the grinding sounds of rapid power-tool use, his father grumbled, "Rust Roader, when are you going to actually show me that project of yours? You've been shoving every broken weapon that's come through here into that whatever-it-is for two months, and I never see them again! Not that I particularly care for broken weapons I can't repair, but-"

"Ta-dah!" Rust interrupted the familiar grumbling by flipping through the door and landing on the intake desk. "I just finished it! How's it look, Dad?" Rust brandished the colossal weapon in a generically cool warrior pose.

"It looks like a huge hunk of red-painted metal that a moron civilian might possibly confuse for a sword. You're telling me you melted down all that scrap to make that?" The disapproval might have deflated Rust's enthusiasm, but this was exactly the reaction he was going for.

"'Melted down?' Well, how about..." Rust pushed one of ten buttons on the handle, most of which were hidden under his fingers. In response, the blade unfolded into a plethora of weapons on robotic joints, from classic rifles and swords, to daggers and throwing knives, more exotic sickles, a couple axes, a giant flail, and one enormous cannon. All the weapons were polished to perfection. "...How about now? This is why I call my secret weapon 'Eversword!' I can select which weapon comes out, or have them all out at once like this. Don't worry, my Semblance can handle the weight, no problem!"

The shop owner was suitably impressed. "Well, son, it looks like you finally beat me at my job. I recognize all of these weapons, and I couldn't figure out how to fix even one of them! ...You did fix them, right?"

"Well, of course I did. Why waste a slot on a weapon that doesn't shoot? I figure I'll have to swap them out soon, though. These quick fixes won't hold forever." Rust shrugged in feigned apathy.

The proprietor beamed at his son, practically jumping up and down. "It's amazing that you got them to work at all! You know, with skills like yours, I could finally retire! What do you say to taking over the main shop?"

Rust hesitated. "...Sorry, Dad, but I'm going to have to decline." As the old man's expression drooped, the boy added, "I've spent the last two months working on this as a hobby. After a while, I thought about it, and there's no reason to build this awesome weapon if I never use it. I want to learn to fight from now on. I've taken Eversword for test runs in the woods, and I'm pretty good with it. Maybe I could be a Huntsman one day!"

There was a long silence, during which Rust's dramatic expression began to falter. Finally, his father spoke up. "Well, if that's your dream, who am I to stop you? I'm not sure how you'd go about getting trained, though. Maybe you should ask around. Better for you to have formal training than to go running off to the woods and get eaten by Grimm. Still, I'm worried about your Semblance. The last time I saw you try to lift something that heavy, your arms started bleeding the instant you put it down. The mess got into everything, even the-"

Rust cut off that sentence before he could mention anything embarrassing. "I've been training my Semblance, too! I wouldn't have gone out and slain random Beowolves if I couldn't safely lift my weapon. I'm not dumb. But... Thanks, Dad. I'll make you proud!" Rust slung his multitool over his back, where it stuck to a specially-designed pad on his ammo belt. The red blade neatly covered the "Rust in Peace" logo on the back of his brown jacket. The red-haired boy dashed off to new adventures, wiping some grease from his hands onto his blue jeans as he ran.

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"Hey, guys! I got accepted to Skylight!" A booming voice carried to Rust's ears from a dirty side alley. One didn't often see dirty alleyways in Atlas, given that the city was cleaned by robots, so this merited at least some curiosity.

As Rust drew closer to the source of the commotion, another voice responded to the first in a nasal tone. "The Huntsman Academy? Cool! I always knew you could do it, boss!" Rust walked around the corner and came upon a large, muscular guy in a black T-shirt who had apparently shaved off all the hair on his scalp, boasting to a pair of scrawny shorter boys. He had a chainsaw in a holster on his back.

Rust spoke up, "What's this Skylight place? Can I go there to work towards being a Huntsman?"

One of the scrawny boys exclaimed, "How do you not know what Skylight is?" Then he wheezed like a lifelong smoker.

The other squeaked, "Yeah! It's only the most famous institution in all of Atlas! Only the toughest of the tough get to train there!"

"Yeah, like me!" The big guy finished. "So you want to be a Huntsman, huh, kid? Get in line. I bet a scrawny kid like you couldn't even swing that huge lump of metal on your back. I mean, if you had guns like these," he posed by flexing a bicep, "then maybe you could pull it off. Here, let me show you how it's done. Hand over the sword."

Rust grinned in spite of the implied threats. "Sure, give me a sec." He easily drew Eversword into his fighting stance, holding it in both hands at his side with the tip of the blade pointed upward. This already shocked the larger boy, who fumbled with his case to free his chainsaw, but then Rust made it even better by pressing a hidden button. The tip of Eversword swung open like a lid, and a silver blade sprang out, extending the already impressive reach of the multitool another foot. The chainsaw fell out of the larger boy's slackened grip and landed on his foot. "There. That's the sword part. Still think you could do better?" Rust taunted.

"Ow ow ow ow ow!" Was all the thug said. Apparently he'd been overcharged for those steel-toed leather boots. After a few more hops, the thug stopped clutching his leg and snatched up the chainsaw. "Okay, new bet. You have some neat surprises in that sword, but you still can't swing it! I bet I can saw your head off before you can hit me! Winner gets whatever's left of the loser!" Yanking a cord, the thug caused his chainsaw to loudly roar to life.

"Are you seriously trying to mug me? What an amazing candidate to be a Huntsman!" Rust wasn't really concerned. His own Aura was clearly stronger than the thug's, and that chainsaw didn't have any guns on it. This offended Rust's sensibilities as a weaponsmith, so he switched Eversword's configuration again. This time, the blade split in two halves like a hot dog bun, revealing the barrel of the cannon inside. "I'll take that bet."

The thug stumbled mid-rush. "Wait wait, maybe we can talk this-"

*BOOM!* The ammo was just an iron ball the size of an orange, since Rust hadn't loaded any Dust ammo yet. It was still enough to knock the thug back a few feet, then keep going after passing right through the guy's abdomen. Now Rust was the one shocked. "Oops! I didn't mean to rip a hole in you! I guess this thing shoots harder than I thought, but didn't you put up your Aura?"

"*Gasp* My...what?"

"No time to explain, gotta dial for an ambulance!" Rust whipped out his scroll and started dialing, but he was cut off by a much more confident voice from behind him.

"Don't bother. I've already informed the proper authorities." It was a robot proxy, speaking with the voice of General Ironwood himself while the General was tied up with official business elsewhere. "Once this boy has been treated, he will answer to the Atlesian court system for the crimes of attempted assault...and forgery of official transcripts."

"General Ironwood, sir! Thank you, sir!" There were rules for this situation that got pressed into kids' heads in primary school. No showing disrespect to military officials or their robot proxies, because General Ironwood might as well be right there with a hotline to the entire military, so it would usually be best to err on the side of caution.

"There's need to be so formal." The robot waved off Rust's attempted salute. "At ease, Rust Roader. I actually sent this robot out as a talent scout for the last few admission slots at Skylight. Also, now that this...boy is disqualified, his slot is open to be reassigned. That was the bet he proposed, wasn't it? 'Winner gets whatever's left of the loser.' And I heard everything, because I was already scouting you when you proved yourself so obviously superior to him. So, now it's time to be formal. Rust Roader, would you like to attend Skylight Academy, and train to become a Huntsman?"

"Would I? Uh, I mean... Sir, yes sir!" Rust did another hasty salute.

"Then you're good to go. The airship leaves from Gate 3 of the main port tomorrow morning at 0700 hours; be packed and ready to go."

"Thank you, sir!"

"One last thing," Ironwood chuckled over the robot's speaker. "Huntsmen and Huntresses aren't subject to the same military protocols as the Atlesian army, especially since we are continuing to phase out human involvement in favor of robot soldiers. So you can stop saluting now."

"Really? Aw man, now I feel stupid."

"Don't worry. I expect great things from you in the coming days. In fact, I... Hold on, someone's knocking at my door... What on Remnant happened out here?!" There was an audible click as Ironwood hung up, and the robot jerked its arms as its rudimentary AI took over.

"MOVE ALONG, CIV-STUDENT. THIS UNIT MUST RETURN TO BASE."

"Sure thing," Rust called as he dashed out of the alley, momentarily forgetting that the robot couldn't respond to conversation in his excitement to get packed. The day would have to try pretty hard to get even better!

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Closing A/N's: The disturbance in Ironwood's office is part of another intro. I'm going to be making a LOT of assumptions for this slightly AU setting.

Safe Assumption 1: Atlas' Huntsman's Academy is called Skylight in this AU. Given that the show focuses entirely on Vale, there's a lot we don't know about the other three kingdoms/cities, aside from their names and the name of the Haven Academy in Mistrel.

Foolish Assumption 2: General Ironwood isn't one of the bad guys. My current theory is that he's a well-intentioned extremist, and he's less extreme than he could be. He's sending in the robots to purge soulless monsters, not taking over the world to eliminate discrimination or anything equally ridiculous.

Likely Assumption 3: General Ironwood doesn't have an analogue to Glynda Goodwitch. Instead, he takes over robots to work remotely, or assigns a random subordinate to do so. There are real-life robots that pretty much do this, though of course they aren't as physically effective or coordinated. The concept is called "telepresence."

Disproven Assumption 4: RWBY Volume 3 won't release in the USA for at least a few months. If I turn out to be horribly wrong about everything I write, I can point to this being an AU that I started writing after watching only up to Volume 2.

Probably Not an Assumption 5: Cinder Fall has a big master plan. Roman Torchwick was lying through his cigar-stained teeth when he said he was the mastermind of their operation. Or maybe he's the mastermind of a separate operation behind their backs... Either way, right now Cinder's calling the shots.

More assumptions will have to be made as they come up and will mostly pertain to other original characters.

Legally Pointless Disclaimer: I, the fanfiction author under the pen-name "mysteriousguy898", have no connection or affiliation with the concepts, characters, or scenarios portrayed in RWBY. Those concepts belong to Monty Oum (R.I.P. Monty Oum; the Internet has lost one of its best) and the Rooster Teeth group. The OCs portrayed in this story were designed by me with some aid from my younger brother. Inspirations for Rust Roader in particular came from Final Fantasy and Kingdom Hearts for his appearance, and Ar Tonelico 3: Knell of Ar Ciel for his weapon. All rights to those concepts, insomuch as they apply to this writing, belong to their respective owners. This work is not made for profit, and should not be re-posted on any site unless you do all of the following: really like it, ask me first, and re-post this Legally Pointless Disclaimer.

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