This might become my new baby. Please, treat the story nicely, I'm excited to write it.
The term for this style of writing, I believe, is in media res. Translated, it is Latin for "in the middle of things." I'm not necessarily starting this story at the beginning, explaining what's going on, or giving much background. So I realize it might feel like the middle of a story rather than the start of one, in some ways, but please bear with me. I hope to clear that up, and show the world better than just having a bunch of mindless exposition.
Also, I'm writing from a perspective other than Ruby or Weiss. I'm going to switch around, and try to tell the story from everyone's point of view. Again, this is a bit of an experiment on my part, so please allow me to experiment and fiddle and hopefully get it right.
With all that said, enjoy.
"Fuck."
Yang broke into a run, her legs pounding a rhythm on the pavement. The steel toed boots weren't helping her run quiet, and sure as hell weren't helping her run quick, but it wasn't like she could take them off. Behind her, claws scratched on cracked pavement, five black monstrous things were eating up the ground between them, their heavy limbs making a sound like thunder on the asphalt.
Yang broke left, heavy boots skidding and catching on the ground, letting her spin ninety degrees in no time flat. She darted into an alley between two crumbling buildings; strewn with rubble, refuse, and pitted with water damage.
But most importantly, it was enclosed.
Yang reversed just before hitting the back wall, and took a stance with her legs shoulder width apart, hands up in front of her face. It was a boxer's stance, one rendered automatic by long repetition. It wasn't necessary, of course, but it felt good and solid. It let her focus.
Behind her, the things crowded in, five snarling Beowolves, their eerie red eyes trained straight on her.
Yang laughed quietly. Grimm never were very smart.
Out in the open, some might escape. But in here, well, in here there wasn't anywhere to go.
In a smooth motion, Yang slammed her fists together, and a wave of searing fire and heat washed out, so strong it sucked the air from the alleyway and melted the smaller stones to molten lava, the rest glowing cherry red.
The Grimm didn't stand a chance.
Yang set her camp fire atop an abandoned skyscraper, still stable but crawling with ivy and plant life. The hike had been long, but she was up for it, and honestly even if she hadn't been the view was worth it. She could see the whole wreck of a city from up here, and the full rising moon.
More to the point, she was a great big beacon for any Grimm that wanted a little fun. Who knows, on a clear night like this she might even get a full sized Nevermore. That would be a night to remember. Yang had only seen one about five times, and had only killed one once. They were tough, smart, and rare, and she desperately needed something to hit.
Yang toasted some bread, layered it with mustard and a few peppery wild greens she'd found below, and dug in. It wasn't good, but she hadn't eaten all day, and had to have five more slices before she could officially consider herself full.
Another glance at the night sky didn't yield anything interesting. Just a few clouds, silvery against the full moon. The city was dark, quiet... still.
Almost.
A rock fell somewhere below her and almost immediately Yang rose, adopting her boxer's stance again. For a few moments, everything was quiet.
Then, abruptly, she wasn't alone.
Five quiet figures came up out of the stairwell, apparently unafraid. They were all tall and solidly built, covered head to toe in dark colored camouflage, except for white masks that stood out starkly in the moonlight night.
To be specific, Grimm masks.
Yang cocked her hip and rested one hand on it, looking at them with arched eyebrows.
"You guys wanna go? Because I don't think you do. See, none of you have the cool masks that might mean you'll put up a fight." And abruptly, Yang started literally glowing, tongues of flame licking and clinging to her skin. "And I really don't like the White Fang. So get the hell off my rooftop before I make you."
One gave a low chuckle, an edge of nervousness to it. "Yeah, except we've got reinforcements. We can see this place for miles, and everyone for miles came running. Still wanna go, bitch?"
Yang made a show of thinking about it, tapping her lips thoughtfully. Then she smirked. "Yeah, pretty sure I do." The fire on her skin blazed, and before any of the White Fang goon squad could react, she crossed the distance and kicked out hard, taking the lead one in the face.
While Yang couldn't be hurt by fire, other people definitely could be. And metal tended to have two important properties; it was heavy, and it conducted heat better than just about anything.
So when Yang's steel toed boot hit his jaw, the entire roof could hear it crack, could smell it burn, and could see him go flying five feet to land limp on the ground. It wasn't pretty, and it wasn't fair. But Yang never had reacted very well to threats, and had never been big on restraint.
She stood still, eyeing the other four, close enough to strike out if she wanted. "So, want to hang around for all your groupies to get here, or want to run away and get them all before trying again?" Yang's fingers clenched; she halfway hoped they would. This wasn't a Nevermore, but she would never turn down the opportunity to beat on some White Fang thugs.
"That's enough." A quiet voice cut through, soft and deep and somehow commanding.
Yang and everyone else turned, looking at the person who had quietly climbed up. She, and it was definitely a she by the soft curves, had flowing black hair, sensible but slightly dressy black pants, and a loose white blouse. Her mask was one of the more ornate that Yang had ever seen, and she carried a thick, heavy machete looking weapon in one hand. It was held lazily, loosely, but Yang was under no illusions that it was definitely a threat.
This was someone really dangerous.
Yang shifted almost unconsciously, facing the woman. This night was getting better by the second. But the woman ignored her, walking over to the people she obviously commanded.
"Alex, did Frederick pick a fight again?" She said, addressing a blonde man. He dipped his head in a sharp nod.
"Yes, miss."
"I think I very specifically told him not to approach."
"You did, miss."
"Carry him down. I think he's learned his lesson. I'll deal with this."
The man nodded again. "Lisa, grab his legs." He said to one of the other figures, before looking back at the woman. "We'll get him down, miss, and to a medic."
As quickly as they'd come, the group departed, and the woman breathed a sigh of relief. "Did they threaten you?" She asked.
Yang shrugged uneasily. She didn't know where this was going, but it was certainly outside her realm of experience. "Yeah. I kinda tried to piss him off though."
The woman shook her head. "He shouldn't have even been up here. I'm sorry about that."
Yang kicked the ground absently. "Ah, don't worry about it. I kinda wanted to hit something. So... are we fighting or what?" This hadn't exactly been what she'd expected when ambushed by the White Fang. That lot, to Yang's experience, had always been the kind to shoot first and ask questions later.
While she couldn't see her eyes, Yang could see the lazy smile that the woman's lips curled into. "No, we're not fighting."
"Ah. Because, uh, you seem tough. Wouldn't wanna tangle with you. Um." Yang's tongue seemed to be twisted in a knot, and her brain under the influence of a few strong drinks. This was a really inappropriate time for her ridiculous gayness to strike, but damn this woman was striking. Like, wow.
"I... thank you?" The brunette said, seeming slightly off balance herself. "I'm sorry, was that a compliment or are you hitting on me?"
"Definitely hitting on you. And it was also a compliment. I mean, that's a pretty hardcore mask you've got. I don't think the White Fang hands 'em out to just anyone." Yang said, slipping a bit more into her element.
The woman chuckled, so quickly Yang almost didn't notice it until it was over. She didn't think the woman did that often, somehow, and felt a little flush of pride. "Then thank you. My name is Blake, by the way. I'm... in charge of the White Fang around here."
"I'm Yang." Yang said. "From Rubin."
Blake seemed startled. "Rubin?"
"Uh. Yeah. You heard of it? It's a bit far away..."
"Why are you here, then." The warm tone was still in Blake's voice, but there was an undercurrent of steel that hadn't been there. Yang had the feeling she was treading on thin ice, and couldn't even figure out why.
"I'm... well, guess you could say I'm the head of the police force. I'm chasing a criminal. Name of Torchwick."
Blake sagged. "I know Torchwick." She said, after a moment. "Why are you chasing him?"
"Murder. Theft." Yang said. "If you know where he is, you can help me-"
"No." Blake cut her off. "I can't."
Yang's stomach dropped, as Blake went on. "We have him, back at our headquarters. Along with my boss, the head of the White Fang. We're going to hire him."
Yang tensed. "Then tell me where he is. You'll have to get someone else for whatever the hell the job is, because I am taking that sick fuck in."
Blake shook her head. "No. That won't work. There's hundreds of us, Yang, and I don't care how good you are, you can't fight us all. Not only that, but Adam... It won't work. But maybe we could help eachother, if you're willing to hear me out."
"Alright. How?" Yang asked, voice slow.
"Come with me. Tell everyone what Torchwick has done. I have influence, I can get you in and let you speak your piece. It's your best chance to get him, and my best chance to get rid of him."
Yang smiled slightly. "You don't like him either?"
"Who could? Especially with the murder charges... I want him gone. I don't want the White Fang to go in a direction that he has a say in." Blake breathed a deep breath. "I'm asking something dangerous. Most of us... don't like humans, and it'll be dangerous. But if you're willing to do it, I'll get you there."
Yang shrugged. "I'm in if you are, partner."
Blake's mouth quirked in another smile. "We're partners?"
"Hey, not that way. You know, yet. But we're teaming up to get rid of Torchwick. That makes us partners in my book."
"Not that way, you know, yet." Blake repeated slowly. "That's awfully presumptuous of you. Besides, how do you even know you're my type?"
Yang shrugged, flashing a grin of her own. "Babe, I'm everyone's type."
"We'll see." Blake murmured. "Though... do you have a place to stay?"
"I knew it." Yang said triumphantly. "You can't wait to get in my pants."
"I was going to offer you the guestroom." Blake replied flatly.
"Why do you call your room the guestroom?"
"Or," Blake said, "You can have this roof. It's your choice."
Yang pouted. "Fine, I'll take the guestroom."
Blake smiled. "Good. I was hoping you'd stay a little while."
Yang shrugged. "Eh, what can I say. I'm a sucker for a pretty face."
I wrote this in a style that I think is close to how Yang thinks. It's not quite my voice, so if it sounds awkward I'm sorry. If you really wanted to help, please point out weird sounding bits so I can edit.
But, yeah, other than that, what did you guys think? I'm eager for feedback!