Necro: Shit! Dammit, fuck! I can't work on anything else cause this shit is rattling around in my head!
MP: By the way, we started a Tumblr for our Fanfics. It's called Necro-floodwaters-ff-inc and the title is Necro's Writings.
Necro: *in the distance* Holy fuck! Shitting fuck balls!
MP: Um...yeah, I can't even begin to apologize for that.
Wrong.
What…? Wrong…something wrong…
Wrong. Wrong! Something…something wrong!
What is it? Wrong! Damn it, something is wrong! WRONG!
...
...must...wrong...must calcul...wrong...must calculate. Wrong. Find...wrong. Find the wrong.
Yes. Hehe...find wrong...find it!
The kingdom of Vale, home to Beacon Academy and Vale City. One month ago, the city was destroyed by an army of Grimm, monstrous creatures made of shadow and bone, and five humans, one of which stole an ancient power from a young woman and murdered the girl who should have received that power. During the battle, a powerful Grimm was awakened. Had it not been for the convenient presence of a young, silver-eyed girl, that creature would have killed what little citizens remained alive within the city.
Now, the city is in ruin and Grimm freely roam the streets. Atop the old clock tower, the Dragon, the Grimm woken up by the battle in the city below, remains frozen. And just a few blocks away, between a partially demolished building and the remaining wall of another structure, a man stumbled down the alley, clutching at his head with one hand and dragging a katana along the ground behind him with the other. At first glance, the man appeared normal, but when one really paid attention, odd things could be noticed: the man's eyes, when not closed against some intense pain, were a brilliant green that almost seemed to glow, his sword blade was made of an unnaturally dark metal, and his clothes were an odd mix of causal and formal.
The man ran a hand through his short curly hair then jammed his sword into the ground and sat down heavily, back against the wall. "What...wrong? What is...wrong? Clock...clock tower. Yes...the clock...tower." Standing again, the man grabbed his sword and began moving down the alley, his steps a little more even and much softer than before. As he progressed through the city, Grimm stopped and watched. The Grimm had ended the life of the last citizen in Vale City several days ago and to see this man, to feel the emotions running through him, was a great surprise to them.
"Creatures. They don't...sound like normal ani-animals." The man stopped and pressed the palm of his left hand against the side of his head. A small Beowulf, a Grimm resembling a transformed lycanthrope, or werewolf, began moving closer, sensing a moment of weakness. Less than a yard from the man, the young Beowulf pounced. The body continued into the wall where the man had been standing, but the head rested on the end of the man's sword, which he had held up to one of his ears. "I see. Hehehe, I see," he murmured just as the head began to disappear, turning into ash. The man did not see what was happening, for he was blind, but he did hear, and that was how he knew the world around him; he heard the buildings, the ground beneath his feet, and even the Grimm, and all that noise, all that sound, created an image in his mind, a three hundred and sixty degree view. "So you see, I see it all." The man laughed to himself, letting his now bare sword drop to his side. "Now, clock tower." The man turned a corner and almost immediately walked into an Ursa, which began backing away. "Aww, is the little beast scared? Good." The man walked past the bear-like creature, continuing his journey to the tower, Grimm shrinking away from the sudden void that was the man's feelings.
Shouldering open a door to the clock tower, the man paused to listen, building a map of as much of the tower as he could. "Le...left. Must..." The man stumbled into a wall, groaning as he pressed his palms against his forehead. "D-Damn it! I'm working as fast as...p-possible! Give me some peace!" The man took a deep, shuddering breath then began moving again, heading for the elevator, the only means of reaching the lower floor.
SHIING! CCRRREEAAAAAKK! The man pried and shook his sword as he attempted to shift the elevator doors, which had become lodged in the walls opposite where the actual elevator was set. "You know, to do something like this, it would require a lot of force." Giving up on leveraging the doors with his sword, the man made a flicking motion with wrist and one of the doors flopped over as if it had been pushed from underneath. "Of course, you also need some heat for something like this." The man prodded the deformed metal with his foot. "Well, bottom floor, here I come." The man walked over to the empty shaft and stepped inside, out into open air and stood there, seemingly levitating. What was actually occurring was the same force that had moved the elevator door: shadows. Shadows that act as the man's limbs, his weapons, and his tools, and, in this case, an impromptu elevator platform.
"Ding, bottom floor: death, destruction, and one hell of a mystery for me." The man laughed and dropped through the wreckage of the elevator. "I wonder if there's a sale. Hehehehe!" The man walked to the very back of the cavernous hall he was now in and placed his hands on a massive machine. A crackling sound emanated from his hands and electricity arced from him to the machine. "Energy transfer. Two pods. I see. But who was the energy for and who did it come from?" The man moved to one of the pods, which appeared to be missing the door, according to his hearing. When he felt inside, he very quickly drew his hand back to himself. "No. No no no no no nononononono! Wrong! This is wrong! This is...this is what we felt. This is what was wrong. No, it's not right." The man had begun to run his hands through his hair at some point and now he was pacing, shaking his head and muttering. "FUCK!" He slashed with his sword and ended cutting the...unoccupied pod next to him in half. "Damn it, probably shouldn't have done that." He sighed and moved back to the slightly more intact pod. "I'm so sorry, Lady of Autumn. If I had known...I'm sorry." The man reached into the pod and lifted the young woman out, cradling her in his arms. He did not need his phenomenal hearing nor would he have needed his eyes to tell that she was dead. She was so cold and unmoving. "I'm so sorry."
He turned towards the elevator then froze. "Oh dear. Oh no, no way." Expanding his senses, the man could not help looking around, feeling the energy left by a battle between two powerful people, one of which felt familiar. "So you were here. Old man, you should have known better." He shook his head and started walking again. "Don't worry, Maiden of Autumn, I will give you a proper burial, I promise. Then I have something I must attend to."
MadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMad
The man finished packing down the dirt of the Maiden of Autumn's grave, which he had dug out in a row of trees not too far from the tower, and stood up, brushing the dirt off on his pants. In his native tongue, the man said a quick good-bye and headed for the clock tower again. "Wait here for me, mm?" The man asked as he stuck his sword in the ground, easily slicing into the concrete of the sidewalk. He pressed his hands against the side of the tower, right above where a steel support beam ran under the material the tower was constructed. A moment of concentration and suddenly he was at the top, electricity shimmering over his body before fading. "Let's see, the thief came up here and was met by someone." He moved to the center of the tower, knelt, and placed his hand on the floor. "They fought for a very short while, then the second person's energy ceases." The man paused for a moment then moved over to the edge of the roof. "Then a third energy, very strong and very sudden. And since it seems to be all over the big...thing, I would say that's what froze it. Interesting." The man shook his head and was about to descend when something caught his attention. "Hang on, that second...hmm. Very interesting indeed." He turned towards the east and stood like that, 'staring' off into the distance. Eventually he moved, sweeping his arm in a slow arch before nodding and descending the tower in the same fashion that he had ascended. "Three months. Hopefully within three months, anyway." He took out a pocket watch and held it up to his ear. "Shit, five months. Actually, that could work out better." He slipped the watch back into his pocket. "Well, if I'm sticking around for almost half a year, might as well come up with a name. Hmm...Jay Nix. That will do. That'll do." The man grabbed his sword and started down the street. He got halfway before he stopped and considered the katana-like sword in his hand. "I need a sheath or something."
Jay began wandering through the city, trying to find clothes or leather shops, or anything with fabric inside. Curiously, most of the stores had already been looted and some recently so. Eventually, Jay found what he was looking for and something that he wasn't. "Hello? What's your name?" He could hear a heartbeat, but it was faint and whomever it belonged to wasn't moving. He moved furthered, pushing aside clothing racks and, at one point, cutting down a door. Jay stumbled into a back room and stopped, looking down on a small person, who was wearing several different styles of clothing, likely because their original set had become too filthy, and was clutching a tattered umbrella in one hand. The person seemed to have passed out within the last few hours and Jay quickly found out why when the person's stomach growled loudly. "Hmm...help or don't help? Really? Intriguing choice. Sheath first though." Jay walked back to the front of the shop, whipped a cloth off a display table, and folded it in such a way that it could hang from his belt loop and still hold his sword.
Suddenly, something very sharp was pressed against Jay's back. He froze for a moment then slowly put his hands up. He had been too focused on his sheath that he hadn't thought to ensure that he wouldn't be snuck up on. The sharp thing moved from his back to his side and from there to his front, the person he had found standing in front of him, if only barely. "Who...are you?" A woman's voice, a little on the high side and rough, as if she wasn't used to speaking or, more likely, hadn't spoken to anyone since the city's destruction. She also sounded exhausted.
"My name is Jay Nix. And you are…?" While Jay had had swords and various other weapons pointed at him during his long, and admittedly violence-filled, life, he had never been so uncomfortable with the idea of disarming someone. The girl in front of him was tired, hungry, and had quite likely had many more narrow escapes in the last month than in her entire life. And the idea that he was being threatened by a blade hidden in a beat up umbrella was a little funny.
"Any food...you have, give...it...to m...to me..." The girl toppled forward unexpectedly and Jay, out of surprise, almost did not catch her.
"My my, you're in worse shape than I thought." Jay shook his head and picked up the girl, cradling her in almost the same way he had the Maiden of Autumn. "Well, I have no food with me, but I suppose I could catch something." He muttered to himself as he moved through the shop, carefully moving racks and clothes out of his way with shadows and his feet.
Once outside, Jay shifted his grip on the girl then began moving towards the borders of the city. Everywhere he walked, Grimm would try to approach only to be cut down or forced back with shadows. When Jay made it to the edge of Vale, he turned west and began walking in the direction of the thickest woods he could hear.
MadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMad
"Unh..." The groan came from the other side of Jay's camp, making him look up from his task of sharpening the sword hidden inside the girl's umbrella. Another sound soon followed: violent retching and splattering.
"Not a very elegant way to wake up, for someone who uses this sword." Jay held the sword up, examining the edge and listening for movement from his guest. "Then again, if I was stuck in a city in the same situation that you were, I imagine that I wouldn't wake up very elegantly either. By the way, I wouldn't attempt to use my sword, there is a price to pay with nearly swing. That is, if you are capable of making contact." He glanced over his shoulder at the girl just as she pulled her hand away from the hilt of his sword. "There's a bowl of broth next to the campfire. It's for you." Jay slid the girl's weapon back into the umbrella and began to inspect the material between the spindles.
She scooted over to the fire and grabbed the bowl, taking a small mouthful and swishing it around before swallowing. "What..." cough "what are you doing...to my sword?"
"I am repairing it. It would appear that it has gone a few weeks without proper care." Jay removed the finger-less glove on his right hand and laid it across the umbrella spindles at regular intervals, noting how much of the glove went over or, when the spindles got too far apart, how much space was left between the glove and opposite spindle. "We're going to need some material. What's left of the original feels like lace, but...there's something mixed in it, almost crushed in." Being blind, most of Jay's other senses were enhanced, the exception being taste, and he could just barely discern a grainy substance on what was left of the umbrella's material.
"Dust." The girl sipped at the broth, watching Jay as he studied her weapon, noting the length of the blade, how everything fit together, what other things the umbrella was capable of doing.
"Dust? I'm not quite a native. Will you explain?" Jay slid the sword back into the umbrella and laid it next to him. He stood up and stretched, casually placing his right foot on top of the girl's weapon, keeping it in place.
"Dust is a powerful powder-like," She paused to clear her throat, "substance collected from gems mined from underground." She returned to sipping at her broth, satisfied with her explanation.
"Hmm...so they must have abilities, powers that can be added to objects like clothes, weapons, etc. Interesting. What sort of powers does this Dust usually manifest?"
The girl did not answer, instead choosing to set the bowl down and attempting to stand. When she fell over, Jay simply regarded her as most would a drunk: mild concern and no interest in helping. "Wonderfully done. That was almost a second." The girl shot Jay a look so dirty that he actually felt and tried again, failing when she had nothing to help support her weight. "Has it occurred to you that several weeks without proper food and exercise may have temporarily robbed you of something as simple as walking? Of course, that could also be the paralyzing agent I dropped in the broth earlier." When the girl turned to glare at him again, Jay merely smiled. "What? I didn't want you attacking me before I had the chance to talk. And it was only enough to make moving...difficult."
"Now," Jay said, moving closer to the burnt out fire, "I have a few questions for you and after you answer them you can either be on your way or accompany me to the nearest settlement. With your weapon, too." He added. The girl considered Jay's statement for a short time then, sensing no trap, sat down across the fire pit from him. "Alright. First question: what is your name?"
"My name is Neopolitan."
"A pleasure to meet you, Neopolitan, my name is Jay Nix." Jay tried to smile reassuringly, but he knew that with the facial mask and odd clothing, it probably did not come across as even somewhat comforting. "I think I may have told you that all ready. Anyway, how did you come to be in that store?"
"I was in Vale for...business when the Grimm came."
"Grimm? Like the brothers? Never mind. The Grimm would be those creatures crawling all over the city, I suppose. Well, I have one other question for you before I have to pack up the camp and be on my way." Neopolitan gestured for Jay to ask. "Would you like to accompany me to the nearest town? After all, travelling alone can be very dangerous."
Neopolitan blinked and regarded the man before her suspiciously. "You said that I could 'be on my way' after you asked your questions."
"I did. And you can, but I wouldn't mind the company. Besides, who knows, we might just find each other useful at some point. What do you say?" Jay hopped to his feet, hooked a foot under Neopolitan's umbrella, kicked it up, spun it over the back of his hand, and held it out to her, handle first.
"I'd say you're insane."
"You wouldn't be wrong, Ms. Neopolitan, however, questioning the stability of my mind is not an answer." Jay shook the umbrella teasingly. "Come on, yes or no, you get your weapon back and the chance to carry out that little fantasy of stabbing me."
Startled, Neopolitan jerked up, almost toppling over again before regaining her balancing on shaky legs. "How did you know that?"
"Energy is as energy does and thoughts are just a different kind of energy for me. That and I'm fairly irritating to those that first meet me, so not too hard to guess your intentions."
Neopolitan considered Jay again before nodding slowly, grasping the proffered umbrella handle. "Ok."
While Neopolitan was dealing with the mysterious, and more than a little crazy, Jay Nix, in another part of Remnant, far from the devastated City of Vale, nestled between a massive mountain and a sweeping forest, there was a village, small but a frequent stop for Hunters, Huntresses, and travelers of all types. Within this village, a building sat, about the size of our world's brownstones. This build is called Red's Bed and Bar, an inn with, that's right, a bar on the bottom floor. Red's Bed and Bar held ten rooms total and no more than half were ever filled, and most who stay are Hunters and Huntresses.
"Good evening!" The barkeep called when he heard the door open, setting off a little bell above the door. He didn't look up from his task of cleaning the shot glasses, all of which were lined up on the bar top in two separate rows. "I have ten minutes until I close the bar, so if you're looking for a drink, it'll have to be quick."
"Actually," a man said, placing a custom-made Colt 1855 twenty-four inch revolving rifle down on the counter, "I'm here to rent a room for a night, maybe two." The man dug into the pockets of his coat, pulling out a slim wallet.
"It's fifteen Lien a night." The barkeep said, starting on the beer mugs.
"Is breakfast extra or...?" The man paused, wallet held firmly in his hand.
"Breakfast is free for Hunters and Huntresses, five Lien for regular guests." The barkeep looked up and took note of the rifle on his counter. "You a Hunter?"
"Of sorts." The barkeep nodded at the man's answer, grabbed a ledger from a shelf behind his bar, and dropped it on the counter in front of the man.
"Sign your name and write down how long you'll be staying." The barkeep nodded when the man finished and collected the ledger. "Room six, it's the third one on the right upstairs. Here's your key," the barkeep dug in his pants pocket and tossed a broad ended key, with number six engraved on it, to the man.
"Thanks." The man caught the key and grabbed his rifle, heading for the stairs. He stopped and turned around when the barkeep addressed him.
"'Scuse me, but what's this last name? I can read through Mason C, but that's it." The barkeep looked up from his ledger and glanced at Mason.
"Cole. I guess my parents had a sense of humor." Mason smiled and winked, his coal black eyes shining with amusement.
"Yes, I suppose so. Good night, Mr. Cole."
"Oh, please, call me Mason. Good night." Mason turned again and went up the flight of stairs. After locking the door to room six, Mason shrugged out of his coat and slung it at the large bed in the center of the room. He stretched and groaned when several joints popped. "I've been sleeping outdoors too long." Mason ran his hands through his hair, stopping when he reached his cat-like ears, which had been pressed flat against his head all day. "Stiff as a board. Of course." Sighing, Mason uncurled his tail from around his waist and carefully massaged the base. "If I'd known about this world's Faunus, I wouldn't have had to do this." Mason sighed again and threw on the bed, forgetting that his rifle was caught in his coat. "...ow."
Necro: That's it! That's as far I can go with this chapter! Tell me what you think.
MP: How many of you can guess what colors Jay's name represent?
Mason: Why I am being included in this?
