I never really considered myself as someone who was fast.
I never really thought of myself as someone who was a quick thinker.
I felt I was more absent-minded than most people seemed to consider.
And yet… time had always felt so slow to me.
Time.
The concept of time has always been interesting to me. What was time? Was it a straight line filled with a series of fated events, or was it a diverging tree-branch that lead to all possibilities? Was it another way to measure, or was it a philosophical idea? Was it infinite, or was it doomed to die like the rest of us?
Could you control time?
Or does it control you?
Did I just spend an hour having a philosophical monologue in my head, or was it in actuality, literally five seconds?
I turned my head to look at the clock.
The clock's needle ticked one second.
10:05 PM.
I continued to stare at the clock for ten minutes straight.
But the clock's needle never tocked while under my gaze.
10:05 PM.
…
I decided to walk down the street.
Time flowed normally for me once again.
They say that during a certain age, a child will discover their semblance: a power or ability that is unique to the child and to the child only.
When I was a kid, I couldn't wait for when I would discover my semblance. I was so impatient back then. I just wanted to rush through my youth so that I could finally get my "super-hero powers," as I would have called it.
Time moved too slow, I once said.
Heh. Such irony.
I don't know when or how it manifested, but I remembered the day I discovered what it was.
A child, not even a month older than seven, impatiently sat in the hallway of a hospital, too young to understand why he was even there in the first place.
Mom's gonna be home soon, I thought. She's going to wonder where we are, I thought. She's gonna read me a bedtime story tonight, I thought.
This place was so boring. Nothing exciting was happening. But I sat there patiently, like a good boy was supposed to.
I asked my dad, "When are we gonna go home?"
"In a few hours son… just wait for a few more hours." He told me.
I never picked up the depressed tone in his words.
So I waited. I sat still and waited for hours… and hours, and hours, and hours, and hours. I hated waiting. I wished I had something to do to pass the time. I wished my big sister wasn't busy with Uncle Qrow, so we could play together.
I knew for a fact that I sat there for hours now. So I asked Dad again, "Daddy, do we get to go home yet?"
"Ross, it hasn't even been five minutes yet." He chastised me.
That was my first hint that something wasn't right.
"I know you're impatient son, but please… Please wait here for just a few hours. Please." He begged.
He sounded so broken. But I don't think I ever noticed back then.
Rather confusedly, I looked up at the clock. The needle ticked on as normal.
But then it stopped.
Curious, I sat up straight to examine the clock in more detail. The needle ticked on as normal.
But then it stopped again.
I began to notice a pattern.
I kicked my legs, the needle moved.
I stopped. It stopped. Repeat.
I began experimenting at that point. I kicked my legs until a nurse came down the hallway, and then I would stop.
The results were what I predicted.
At some point, my legs had gotten tired, so I resorted to continuously tap my chest with my finger in order to literally pass the time.
I don't know how long I amused myself with this weird power of mine. I must have been doing it for a whole day in my perspective, but in reality, it was only three hours.
Eventually, the door next to us opened up, and out came a doctor with a face full of regret.
Then I found out why I had to be there in the first place.
Mom's gonna be home soon, I thought.
She wasn't.
She's going to wonder where we are, I thought.
She couldn't.
She's gonna read me a bedtime story tonight, I thought.
She never would, ever again.
I shook my head from the memory, trying to forget about that day. I was disappointed that I had gotten absent-minded again, more so now since I was thinking about something that I should have moved on from a long time ago.
No, I did move on. I have moved on.
Distracted momentarily, I almost didn't notice that I had already arrived at the front door of the 'From Dust Till Dawn' shop.
I was half an hour past closing time.
You'd think, since I literally had all the time in the world, it'd be impossible for me to be late for anything. Guess there are no exceptions for sloppy time management.
Conveniently enough, the shopkeeper hadn't closed up yet. I must have been lucky tonight.
I opened the door and stepped inside, the visitor bell dinging which alerted the old shopkeeper. "Good evening, Ross." He greeted me warmly.
I tapped my chest in a steady rhythm as I talked. "You know that it's past closing time already, right?" I asked.
"I know it is. Business has been slow lately though. I thought if I kept myself open, some late-night stragglers might come by. Like you." He smiled.
I gave a chuckle, "Although that might seem like a good idea, that kind of thinking is just begging for robbers to show up."
"Bah, I'll be fine!" He waved off my warning, "It's a time of peace, I doubt anyone will try to rob me tonight."
"Alright, if you say so." I shrugged. Then I remembered why I came here. "By the way, did the new issue of Weapons Magazine arrive today?"
He nodded and pointed to the back of the store. "Just this morning."
"Thanks." I pulled out some lien for the old man as a tip, and walked to the back of the store. There, I searched out what I was looking for from the organized selection of books and magazines.
Let's see… Fashion magazines, news magazines, pet magazines, magazines magazines- Ah, here it is.
With my semblance, I could have easily read the entire magazine in a span of seconds... But I wasn't exactly in a rush to go anywhere tonight. I actually needed to pass the time, and books were invented as a way to gain knowledge and to pass time.
Besides, I could never read anything without some good music.
And I can't listen to good music without moving to the rhythm.
...
Well- it's mostly because if I didn't move at all, my MP3 player would just freeze in time like everything else in the world, but even still, I couldn't help but headbob to good music.
I wore my headphones, put my music player on shuffle, and opened to the first page.
The smooth electric guitar played the first notes of "Red Like Roses Pt. 2" and I immersed myself in another reality...
Moments later...
The shopkeeper turned around as the visitor bell dinged the second time that night.
Just as he was about to greet whoever it was, he was surprised when he saw not one customer, but a suspicious group of men in black suits and red glasses.
One of the men stood out from the others. A man wearing a white jacket and bowler hat, smoking a cigar.
They all glanced around the place, eyeing the dust chutes and the crystals on display. After a few seconds, the bowler hat man walked up to the counter, rudely dropping some cigar ashes on the floor.
Before the shopkeeper could say a word however, he was suddenly staring at the end of a gun.
"Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a dust shop this late?" Bowler-hat complained.
It was then the shopkeeper realized how bad of a situation he was in.
Sigh... I should've retired.
I always had a fascination with weapons. Especially unique, custom-made ones. There was something about them... How their creators slaved away days and months of their lives to create a weapon that would fit just for them. There was just something... alive about them. Like the creators had somehow crafted souls for the weapons themselves.
Yang called me crazy when I first explained this to her.
Maybe I am...
I found my gaze lingering over a familiar picture featured in the magazine.
It was a scythe. Not just any scythe though, it was Uncle Qrow's scythe. Looked like the publishers finally took notice and decided to feature his weapon on this month's edition. I wonder how he would feel about this when he found out?
Hm... I always wanted to create my own custom-made weapon. Back at Signal, they had these workshops for the students to use, gun parts and weapon assembly kits free of charge.
There wasn't really anything to stop me from making my own weapon, per se. It was just... I couldn't decide on what I wanted. I never felt comfortable with any specific type of weapon. Anything I held in my hands just felt too... easy to use.
I blamed my semblance. The problem with being able to pause or slow time whenever you want is that it screws up your way of fighting.
Or 'improves it,' depending on your perspective.
No matter what kind of weapon I had, or who I was up against, I would win. How could I not, with my semblance? Every test I ever took, every fight I'd ever been in, it would be done in the shortest amount of time possible. No matter how long it actually took for me.
They called me a prodigy. A master of all weapons. A legendary child who would win every duel, no matter who I was up against.
I'd scoff. Of course they would say stupid things like that. Anyone with this power could do the same things I did.
My semblance made things too easy for me. I never actually mastered any weapons. I never had proper training for any weapons. They all thought I was too good for training. They all thought I was too perfect.
But the truth was that I wasn't. Without my semblance, I would fumble with any sword. Without my semblance, I would miss every shot fired from a gun. Without my semblance, a kid who actually trained, who actually poured sweat, tears, and blood to improve himself each day, he would have earned the praise and attention that I had. Praise and attention that I didn't deserve.
This semblance made me special.
But I'm not special.
Without my semblance, I would be just another kid in the world, growing up with hopes and dreams like any other.
I wouldn't be special.
I'm not special.
...
Huh. Looks like I zoned out in another absent-minded train of thought. I really needed to focus more. But I guess it wasn't like it would be necessary, though. I couldn't waste time unless I intentionally wanted to.
What was I thinking about again?
Oh right, Uncle Qrow had his weapon featured in the new edition of Weapons Magazine.
I paused that thought for a moment when I heard a familiar guitar riff...
Aw man, I loved this song! 'This Will Be The Day' is a true masterpiece.
"They see you as small and helpless. They see you as just a child. Surprised when they find out a warrior will soon run wi-"
Suddenly, I was interrupted when I felt my shoulder being tugged from behind. Turning around, I saw a man in a black suit holding a sword.
I instantly froze.
Thus time froze as well.
I assessed the situation at hand.
A clearly aggravated man had his weapon out in a public area.
Behind him were other men who seemed to have a similar taste in fashion. They were in the process of filling up dust tubes from the chutes.
The shopkeeper was putting his dust crystals in a suitcase, with one of the suited men pointing a gun at his head.
This was a robbery. The shopkeeper was being robbed.
This should be fun.
The teachers in Signal would comment about how unnaturally calm I was when facing stressful situations.
What was the point in panicking when you had all the time in the world to react?
I tried to think up of different ways to subdue the guy in front of me first. He was opening his mouth, meaning he was currently speaking to me, probably issuing a command for me to put my hands up or something.
I shouldn't get near him when he still had his sword and his attention concentrated on me, though.
Luckily for me, I had a magazine in my hand, and his face was wide open for distractions.
I moved to throw the magazine at him, and time flowed freely again.
"-eathwish or somethi- Agh! What the fu-" The magazine had hit him square in the face.
Time paused once more.
His head was tilted back and his free hand was reaching up to get the magazine off of his face. His sword hand would be loose now.
Time unpaused as I ran forward and grabbed his sword by the blunt edge of the blade, before violently shoving the hilt into his abdomen.
His head lurched forward, his arms covering his stomach because of the pain. Time stopped.
A wide opening.
I whacked him on the side of the head with the sword hilt, and he was instantly out like a light.
No challenge whatsoever.
Looking up, I saw one of his friends dropping his dust tube and was just about to pull out a gun from his coat before time stopped again.
I took my time to glance around the shop and find anything useful. On my right, I saw a bag of aged red fire dust, then a funny little idea popped up in my head.
I hastily grabbed the bag of dust and threw it at the gunman, just as he aimed his gun at me.
His reflexes reacted too quickly, he couldn't stop himself from pulling the trigger before it was already too late. When the bullet made contact with the bag...
Boom.
Out the window he goes.
...
I just realized that I'd probably have to pay for that. Oh well, bridges and gaps.
I noticed that the robber had dropped his gun when he went soaring out the window from the mini-explosion. Amazingly enough, it doesn't seem to have sustained any damage.
How convenient.
I calmly walked over to grab the gun, giving a few casual spins with my new sword as I went. Kicking the gun up, it flipped to the air in slow motion, before I grabbed it in my free hand. Examining the gun more closely, I noticed it seemed unfamiliar... It didn't look like any standard pistol I'd been taught about. New brand, maybe?
Hm... A sword in one hand, and a gun in the other? I could make do with this.
I turned my head right, and saw all the other robbers cautiously staring at me. The shopkeeper took advantage at how they were all focusing on me, and crouched to hide behind the counter.
Let's see, five guys. Four men in black, one man in white and a bowler hat. Three out of the four men in black carried swords, while one held an SMG. Bowler-hat had to be the ringleader of the group. He carried no distinctive or noticeable weapons, although I was a bit wary about that cane of his. Logical assumption would be that the cane was also part gun. Better watch out for that.
You know, maybe I just did it for laughs, but when I looked at their nervous faces, I couldn't help but give a smug smile and say, "Hello there. You done fucked with the wrong shop." I made a loud guncock to add in extra bits of intimidation.
Seemed like it worked, most of the robbers in black suits took a few step backs. Bowler-hat didn't seem the least bit fazed, however.
Despite him, I was feeling confident. Then again, I always felt confident about my chances with anything. Probably to the point in arrogance. Was I getting arrogant lately? I hoped not. I better keep watch of that before I did something I might regret.
Wait, I was losing focus again. Reassess the new situation at hand, Ross.
I didn't see any openings for an attack yet. If I charged at them now, they'd be expecting it and would react appropriately, overpowering me. I couldn't just shoot them, I just wanted to knock them out, not have them killed. I was going to have to wait for a better opportunity, most likely wait until I could perform a counter-attack.
So, I'd just let them make the first move.
Time moved forward as I started tapping the tip of my gun to the side.
Bowler-hat held his cigar away as he sighed, releasing a puff of smoke into the air. Dropping some cigar ashes, he looked at me inquisitively, before casually remarking, "What an annoying inconvenience."
"Hey kettle, the pot called. He says you're black."
"Funny." He snarked. He paused for a moment, as if expecting something to happen. When nothing did, he groaned before turning his head back and frustratedly shouting, "What, am I paying you monkeys to just stand there and gawk?! GET HIM!"
At his urgency, the robbers snapped out of their daze. With a sudden burst of courage, they charged at me.
I stopped tapping my gun.
The robber in front of me froze in place just as he was about to slice me diagonally with his sword.
Easy enough to counter.
I deflected his attack and slammed my hilt against his jaw. As time paused again, I was deciding what to do next as I studied the robber holding his jaw while mid-scream, before opting to just trip him.
As he fell, I observed the next guy who was just inches away from pummeling my face with his fist. I tilted my head a bit to the left, letting the punch fly past me. Deciding to teach him a lesson about why it was a bad idea to bring a fist to a sword fight, I levelled my gun up to his shoulder and fired a round.
"Augh! Motherfu-" Time paused again.
I hit his gut with the butt of my gun, knocking wind out of him, and pushed him to the floor.
The wound wasn't that serious. As long as he kept applying pressure to it like he was doing now, he'd live long enough for the paramedics to take care of him.
For the next guy, I didn't even have to try. He had such a sloppy and predictable attack, charging at me while holding his sword like a spear.
All I did was step to the side, and he couldn't even stop himself from face-planting straight into the wall behind me.
I heard a thud, a groan, and then another thud.
I sighed. This was starting to get boring again.
"Say good night you bast-" Once again, time froze.
The last robber had his SMG pointed at me.
I smirked, unintentionally moving time forward for a bit before it stopped again.
Now we're talking.
This was one of my favorite things to do when fighting against someone with a full-auto gun. Bullet dodging.
It took me a while to master it, but the key trick to slowing down time without stopping it entirely, is to move like you were in slow motion yourself. I had to be careful not to move too quickly, or else I would have no reaction time left to dodge the next oncoming bullets.
I slowly stepped forward. The robber held down the trigger to his gun, slowly spraying bullets at me.
To the world, I must have been a blur, dodging every single bullet effortlessly.
Tilt head to the right, slowly spin sideways here, deflect bullet with a sword there, dodge last bullet by overdramatically tilting head back. Just like every action movie I've ever seen.
The gun eventually stop spewing bullets and started clicking on an empty barrel. The robber grew scared as he realized that he had just unleashed an entire mag on me at close range and not even a single bullet had landed a hit.
"What the hell?!" He whimpered.
Welp, that was fun while it lasted. Time to get serious though.
I closed one eye and steadily aimed my gun-sights at him.
He hastily moved to reload his gun.
I calmly took my time to aim exactly where I wanted to shoot.
I pulled the trigger. The bullet flew straight into his foot.
He yelped, fumbling and dropping both the gun and magazine as he crouched down to tend to his wounded foot, before time paused again.
He was just in the right position. Lets see if I could do this without screwing up…
I took a few steps back, concentrated… and then I ran forward, jumped, and drop-kicked his face.
He flew back from the impact, but he was already knocked out before his head even landed.
I always wanted to do that. Man I wished someone recorded this moment. Yang would never believe this otherwise.
…
I cautiously scanned the area to see if there were any more bad guys left. It looked like I got all of them though. Three criminals left unconscious, one exploded out the window, two of them were wounded by gunshots, though none of the shots were fatal. I should probably get the shopkeeper to call them an ambulance anyway.
Oh right, the shopkeeper!
"Hey old man! Are you still breathing?" I called out worriedly, instinctively tapping myself.
"Just fine!" He stuck his head above the counter, checking if the coast was clear. When he saw all of the robbers subdued, he pulled himself up and sighed in relief. "Probably going to need to fill out paperwork for my insurance though. Heheheh." He chuckled.
Phew, he wasn't hurt at all. Thank God.
"I'd thought you were a goner when I heard the guns firing! Glad to know you're still with us though." He wiped his wet brow from all the nervous sweat. He took a second look at the mess, before asking incredulously "Ross, did you just single handedly beat down four armed men in less than a few minutes?!"
"It- it's really not that impressive." I nervously shrugged, "I know tons of people who could have done that faster."
"Ohoh, I find that hard to believe! I've met plenty of hunters in my time, but I've never met anyone who was as fast as you, Ross! You must be very special if you could-"
"Hey, not to rush you or anything," I interrupted, "but could you call the police department and tell them what happened? Like, right now? Some of these guys are bleeding here."
As if on point, the robber who was shot in the shoulder started to cry.
"Oh right, sorry." The old shopkeeper nodded, before going off to find a phone.
I sighed as I stood there by my lonesome. I didn't know how long this whole event took in real time. Probably less than a few minutes, like the old man said. Didn't even break a sweat. I was honestly hoping for a better challenge, but I guess I shouldn't have expected anything more. Not with my semblance, anyway.
"Looks like I won't need these anymore." I unceremoniously dropped my sword, then began to dismantle the gun of its barrel and magazine, before dropping them as well.
I looked around and saw all the damage that I had done. The broken window, the charred remains from the mini-dust-explosion, the damaged dust chutes, bullet casings all over the floor, the blood from the robbers that I shot… God, I felt bad for the shopkeeper. How was he gonna pay for all this? I was going to need to come back later and leave him a big fat tip.
While I continued to look at the damage, I had noticed something peculiar on the floor. A weird brownish thing. I stepped closer to examine it in detail.
It was a single, smashed cigar.
I immediately stopped tapping, my eyes widening as I realized...
I had forgotten about the man in the bowler hat.
"Damn it!" I muttered. I checked around to see if there were any weapons I could use, before seeing the SMG and magazine one of the robbers had dropped early in the fight. I scooped both of them up and ran out of the shop.
He couldn't have gotten far, could he? How did I not notice him leaving earlier? When did he leave during the fight?
These questions ran through my head as I got angry at myself for not paying attention earlier. Because of me, that bastard probably got away scot-free! Then he'd probably come back to try to rob another dust shop again, and I wouldn't be around to do anything about it until it was too late!
I reloaded the SMG, and slowly observed the area to find Bowler-hat.
But he was nowhere in sight. I had lost him.
"God damn it!" I shouted, frustratingly stomping my foot on the ground.
Just then, I saw a Bullhead aircraft fly overhead. As time paused, I took a good long look on the inside of the VTOL vehicle. To my chagrin, there he was, mockingly waving at me with that smug grin of his.
I tried to level my gun sights on him, but the Bullhead had moved too quickly. Every single move I made, it would get yards further away from me.
I fired short-bursts at the Bullhead, hoping that at least one of my shots got lucky. Of course, none of them did. I didn't know what I was expecting to happen, but it didn't work, as all my bullets just bounced harmlessly off the metal body.
Just like that, they were already gone.
I lost him. He got away.
And it was because I didn't pay enough attention to prevent this from happening in the first place.
This was my fault.
"Such a worthless idiot…" I sighed depressingly, knowing that I couldn't do anything more except wait for the police to show up.
After dismantling the SMG, I resumed my tapping in a steady rhythm and went back inside to help the shopkeeper clean up.
Above the rooftops, two shadowy figures stood as they re-watched the recording of the entire scene on their scroll-pad.
"Amazing. Simply remarkable!"
"'Remarkable,' sir? You don't mean him?"
"Did you not see him fight? The way he moved, the way he dodged those bullets with such inhuman speed!"
"What I saw, sir, was a boy who had nearly endangered his life and the lives of others. If he had hesitated, took one step out of turn, or if his reaction time was even one second too slow, he would've been killed tonight."
"Oh, I highly doubt that his reaction time would ever be too slow for anything."
"What do you mean?"
"Hmhm, I'll explain it to you later, if you don't mind waiting?"
The other speaker gave an annoyed grunt, but raised no voice to argue.
"Thank you. Now, if you could Glynda, have the police get Ross to remain in custody after they finish questioning him. Temporarily, of course. I want to speak with him, personally."
"As you wish, Ozpin."
Ugh, such a lame cliffhanger.
To those who have read my stuff for the first time, welcome. This is an alternate universe spinoff to another story. I will continue to make more RWBY: A(n) *Adjective/noun* Take, because there are not enough Male!Ruby fanfics.
Also, because time manipulation is freaking cool, and in the right hands, a good story concept. Yes, I got the idea from the video game.
To those who have read my other works, fear not. I am not canceling anything, this story is just to help me get past my writer's block. I will concentrate mostly on A Boy's Take when my brain decides not to be a douche.
BRING ON THE HATE REVIEWS!