A/N: Hey guys, I know it's been a while and I apologize for that. I have not stopped entirely on Lightning Strikes, but I will admit I have gotten lazy and after I lost the document, it was hard for me to go back and rewrite it. I dropped the pen for a while, so to speak, and I am deeply sorry. I will be back to finish it, and it will not go unfinished. I have a trilogy planned, dammit, and I will not see Icarus' plight go to waste. Anyway, I have, in my absence, discovered RWBY and found myself enjoying it very much. However, as much as I love it, there is a distinct lack of gray area among the heroes. I mean, I've seen up season 3, episode 7, and yet not one of them treads the thin line between light and dark. Blake was the closest *SPOILER* with her being once a member of the White Fang *SPOILER end* but that's about it. If there is a character, let me know and tell me how much of an idiot I am. So, while I slowly rebuild what's left of chapter 19, I will begin this RWBY story. I hope you all enjoy and remember to R&R, Follow and/or Favorite, and Flame with red Dust infused firearms. As always,
Cheers,
Stryke

Post Script/Disclaimer: RWBY is the property of Rooster Teeth. I am merely a teenager who likes to express ideas through writing.

(edit) I finally made a little image of what Vincent looks like in his combat attire...but it's upside-down for some unknown reason. I apologize but I can't find a way to fix it. It's the new cover image though. Again, I'm sorry.

Attachment is a Scaffold
Chapter 1:
Dust, Thugs, and-Wait, a Girl?

"Love is a noose." Durzo Blint, Way of the Shadows

Dust shop, 20:00

The place was mostly empty, as far as an onlooker could tell; just an old store owner. Easy pickings, right? Well, that's what Roman Torchwick and his cronies believed as well as they entered the place.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a Dust shop open this late?" Roman asked the elderly owner as one of his tuxedo wearing thugs pointed a gun in the old man's face. Roman was as dapper as you could get if you were a criminal. A black bowler cap, a white and red over-coat, slacks, and a cane, even though he only looked to be in his early twenties. Light orange hair covered the left side of his face, but it was more stylish than a simple emover.

"Please?" The shop keeper begged. "Just take the money and leave."

Roman shushed him, "Calm down, we're not here for your money or your life." He then turned to his thugs as he lay a briefcase on the counter. "Grab the Dust." However, no one ever seems to account for what they don't see. In this case, me. I shook my head at the criminals' sheer lack of perception as I hid just out of sight behind one of the many shelves in the shop. Brushing my light gray bangs out of my cobalt irises, I reached over my shoulders and swiftly pulled out two silver short swords from their leather sheathes. "Virtue" was inscribed along the left blade while "Vice" was inscribed along the right one. They were relatively thick around the hilts though the blade was slightly thin. Where the blade met the hilt, there was a trigger guard. I had built them myself and I would never stop being proud of my work.

However, before I made my move, I was caught off guard by the sound of music coming from the right side of the store. It was muffled, but it was definitely there. Now, while I found myself slightly agreeing with the person's taste, I also wondered how people could be so oblivious to what was going on around them…granted that doesn't say much for myself because I hadn't noticed it earlier…

"Oi kid, put your hands where I can see 'em!" One of the thugs yelled and I heard the distinct sound of a high-frequency blade being pulled out of its sheathe. I heard no response from the person, kid I guess, in question. The music just continued to play. "Hey, I said hands in the air! You gotta death wish or something?" I briefly wondered what accent the nameless thug had before the music became less muffled and a girl's voice responded.

"Yes?" The voice asked. She sounded around my age, sixteen, but maybe a little younger.

"I said, 'put your hands in the air.' Now." The thug repeated. Looking around, I noticed the others were all preoccupied with robbing the Dust, including Torchwick himself. Seeing the coast was relatively clear, I moved quietly forward, crouched low. I wanted to at least get a good angle on the thug, so I could easily take him out without alerting the others.

"Are you robbing me?" The girl asked as I came close to the large shelving that mostly blocked them out from sight. 'Hmm…I won't be able to slide under and I can't risk going around for obvious reasons. This is going to be slightly challenging.'

"Yeah!" The thug responded. Looking through the shelving, I could slightly see the girl now. She was dressed in a red hood as well as a red and black corset and skirt. Light silver eyes shone through black hair with red highlights as a small smirk spread over her pale features.

"Oh." She said nonchalantly before moving quicker than my eyes could track. The next thing I knew, the thug was flying through the air, smashing through the front window. Damn.

"Freeze!" A voice shouted behind me. 'Fuck, now they think I did it.' I turned around to see another finely dressed thug leveling a pistol at me.

I decided to try and use my natural human repellent (AKA: my voice, which was either cold or annoyed), "Listen, I'm not the one who tossed your buddy out the window like a really large soccer ball, so beat it." As I said this, I heard two things at the same time. The first was the thug growling in anger and the second was the familiar shifting of a weapon. Now, on numerous occasions my gut has saved my life. At this moment, it was telling me to duck, and frankly when added with the sound of a weapon, I was more than convinced. That is the reason why I had fallen flat on my stomach. I wasn't cowering or scared, I was listening to my gut-and I found myself being very thankful as the sharp blade of a red and black scythe just sliced through the bookcase, and the nameless thug, sending both of them falling into two pieces. Thanks again, Gut.

A red blur shot by overhead, leaving rose petals in its wake. Rose petals? Picking one up, I found I was not mistaken. Lifting my head off the ground, I found the four thugs and their boss' backs to me, facing the street outside. Getting to my knees, I saw the girl standing in the center of said street, a giant red and black scythe in her hands.

"Okay then." Roman nodded to himself before gesturing to his lackeys. "Get her." Seeing as how they were all charging her, I decided this was my chance to get what I came here for and go. Scooping up Virtue and Vice, I slowly walked towards Torchwick, who held the briefcase in his free hand. "You know what never fails to amuse me?" He asked and I froze as he turned around, a smug smile on his face. "Little shits who think that they're invisible." With that said, he quickly raised his cane and a small sight flicked up from the end of it. I certainly knew enough about weaponry to see where this was going.

Jumping to the right, I narrowly escaped being shot by a large, red projectile. However, I didn't account for the small explosion that went off behind me, launching me face-first onto the floor. Lifting my head, my vision was blurry and I found myself very fortunate that my semblance hadn't kicked in yet. If it had-I shook my head, partly to keep myself in the moment and mostly to clear my vision.

Quickly standing to my feet, I saw Torchwick leaning on his cane, grinning, "That was quite graceful, I must admit."

Narrowing my eyes, I ignored his taunt and instead motioned to his cane, "Modified to shoot red dust?" I asked, both trying to learn as much as I could and sating my own curiosity.

"How idiotic do you think I am?" Roman asked as he spun his cane and brandished it like a rapier. "Acting like I'm your stereotypical villain, it's quite insulting." With that he charged towards me, quickly striking with his cane. If I had been slightly slower, that would have done some damage. As it was, I was able to bring Virtue up just in time to parry his strike. Using the force of the parry, Torchwick spun and swung horizontally. Likewise, I had done the same and Vice clashed against his cane. The blows quickly sped up and I found myself flowing into one fluid motion after another as the adrenaline filled my veins. My moves grew faster the longer the dance continued. I say dance because that's exactly what fighting is: A deadly dance. Parry, duck, strike, block, dodge, counter, press the offensive. The movements continued and I smirked. My movement speed was increasing with each passing second. This was my element.

Torchwick, who started out confident, grew more serious and grave as he was visibly struggling to match or evade my lightning quick strikes as I pushed him back. "How the hell are you moving like that?!" Roman asked incredulously as I swung Virtue and vice in an x-pattern, which he blocked, engaging in a lock.

"You haven't figured it out yet, Roman?" I asked, my heart seeming to beat out of my chest.

His eyes widened as comprehension dawned on him, "You don't mean-" I cut him off by turning his cane to the side and-quicker than the eye could follow-twist-kicked him, sending him out the already broken window.

Calmly walking out the door of the shop, I advanced towards the fallen form of Roman Torchwick as he groaned and sat up. "My semblance." I stated simply as I stopped in front of him.

He turned his body slightly and looked to be covering his side, "Well, that's one hell of a semblance, I'll give you that." He chuckled before coughing. I frowned but the telltale sound of blood splattering the street caught my attention. Glancing up, I saw Red had deftly handled the thugs while I was fighting Roman...or rather, I saw evidence that she had deftly handled the thugs. Blood splatter added a dark hue to the buildings on both sides of the street as limbs and stumps-respectively-littered the streets. In the center of it all: Red, shaking her head and making disgusted faces at the blood splatter on her clothes. "Never take your eyes off a downed enemy!" Torchwick shouted and I snapped my attention back to him. His cane was back in his hand, aimed at me, and his finger was already pulling the trigger at point blank range. This was going to hurt. A lot.

A sound like a cannon roaring echoed in my ears as I caught a flash of red before pain erupted from my abdomen. I caught a sense of vertigo and felt as if I was spinning in the air before I slammed into something-the blacktop I soon found out from the tumbling and the feeling like the skin on my arms had been scraped off. Rolling to a halt, I groaned and heard a familiar crack before my ribcage screamed in agony...or maybe that was my barely choked back yell-turned-growl. Gasping and seething, I tried to roll over to get on my hands and knees.

"You two were magnificent. Truly, you were." Roman's voice rang out and rose petals rained down on me and, making guttural gasps and growls, I slowly got onto my knees to find Red standing next to me, scythe extended forwards. Following her intense, silver gaze, I saw Torchwick crushing a cigar bud with his cane before raising it. "I think we can all agree though, Red...and Silver, too much of a sweet thing can ruin it." Raising his cane, the sight flicked up once more and he smirked. "As much as I'd love to stick around, I'm afraid this...is where we part ways." I knew what was coming with that statement, and knowing the little that I did about Torchwick, I would be the target. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, waiting for the end to come. The blast sounded, my eyelids lit up bright red and I felt myself become weightless once again...but no blow hit me. Opening my eyes, I found myself in the center of the street, unharmed. I need only to run my hand over my shoulder to know the cause in the form of petals. Red stood on my right, looking down at me with what I thought was concern.

"You okay?" She asked, offering her hand, which I regarded before waving it off and struggling to my feet. "Your chest...and arms...they should be looked at." Snarling in pain I looked down at myself. My once white overcoat was torn and stained...with my blood. Gingerly running a hand over my ribs, I winced, both in pain and at the strange feeling of them either being snapped or out of alignment. Breathing deeply, I slowly removed the overcoat, my arms stinging with every movement. Inspecting my arms, I found them bloody and skinned from my wrists to my elbows.

I seethed once more before moving back to more important matters: The location of Torchwick, "I've been through worse. He's going to get away if you don't stop wasting time." I somehow managed to speak without much pain and noticed a flash of Roman's white coat on the roof of the building across the way. Taking a deep and painful breath, I set off towards the ladder, Red close behind. If she was speaking, I didn't pay her any attention. In fact, the only thing on my mind-besides Torchwick-was that I was thankful for having broken my ribs multiple times over. If this was my first time, I would still be on my back, gasping from the pain and wondering when the Angel of Death would come for me. I was overly dramatic when I was a kid, don't judge.

The ladder was a bit of a struggle-not that I would openly admit that mind you-but after almost biting straight through my tongue, I had made it only to find Torchwick's back to me. "It's over." I spoke as I reached over my shoulder for Vice...only to grasp empty air. Oh...fuck.

My surprise must have been evident, because when Roman turned around his smirk widened, "Well that is amusing. A hunter who dropped his weapon...isn't that against some code?"

I only glared in response as my heart rate started to climb once more; this was either going to be very rewarding or very painful. "I'm no hunter." Was my reply as I tried to make myself look as drained as possible-wasn't all that hard to be honest-as Red took the stage.

"Stop!" She yelled and Roman chuckled before turning his back once again.

"Tenacious bunch, aren't you?" As soon as Roman asked that, a Bullhead aircraft rose above the building, as though he had planned this all from the start. He was a notorious criminal for a reason, so I wouldn't doubt that he had a backup plan. Before anyone could blink, I appeared behind Roman and delivered a reverse roundhouse to his back. The surprised and pain-filled grunt was quite satisfying as he fell to the side, his cane slid away from him while he held onto the briefcase.

"Damn right we are." I stated as I held my palm up to Red, silently telling her this was my fight. Whether or not she got the message wasn't my concern. A small smirk found itself on my face as I advanced towards him. Once more, he surprised me as he quickly jumped up and swung the briefcase as a weapon. Shaking my head slightly, I once more unleashed a lightning fast strike at him, however I quickly stopped the strike before it landed. The smart bastard. The briefcase was filled with uncut and unstable Dust crystals and he had placed it in front of himself where I had aimed my strike. I tested his speed by launching a few more random strikes, and while I was quicker than him, he was able to protect himself fairly well due to the size and light weight of the case. All the while, my frustration grew as my heart rate rose, increasing my speed even more. I just hoped my body didn't pop while I tried to fight him. That was why my semblance was as much a gift as it was a curse.

"So, Silver, as you can see, I'm a busy man. As much as we both hate to admit it, we can't stay here forever. Now, either you back off, or I'll be forced to do something, shall we say, drastic." He quickly removed a red Dust crystal with his free hand from his coat and made a pose as if to throw it with all his might at the ground. "Ah-ah-ah Red, if you so much as move a muscle, I'm blowing all of us sky-high." His eyes had not one ounce of fear and I knew he had us. Even with my speed, I knew there would no way to stop him…especially since I had foolishly let him open the distance between us, bringing him closer to his cane and the Bullhead. I growled in anger as I slowly backed away, watching him place the case in the Bullhead, grab his cane, tilt his hat to us, and hop inside. However, he kept the Dust crystal in his hand, poised to throw and as the Bullhead rose into the air, he shouted down at us, "Sorry, but this is the end of the line." The minute those words were uttered, I ran as quickly as my semblance allowed me to go at its current stage; pretty fucking fast in layman's terms. In fact, by the time the explosion actually did go off, I had scurried down the ladder and was staring up at the fireworks…okay fine, I was bent over panting from pain and exertion, my heart rate slowing down and my aura all but gone. I didn't know if Red made it out and frankly, didn't care too much to find out. Call me a coward or call me callous. I'll be the only one standing when the shit hits the fan. Attachment is a scaffold and Love is a noose. Shuffling forward, I managed to find both Virtue and Vice as an all-out Magic Storm erupted above me. Either Red survived or a Hunter was on the scene. I had to get moving either way. The Bullhead was taking a heavy beating, but I knew I had to get out of here-and soon. But first, the sole reason why I came here. Dragging myself back to the Dust Shop, the owner came outside and moved towards me.

"Thank you so much for fighting off those-" I cut him off as I spun Vice, transforming it into its second form: a submachine gun, and pressed it against his forehead.

"The rest of your Dust Crystals." I panted, feeling as though I was about to fall over. "I want them in a case. Before you even start, I know you have them. Every Dust Shop does."

He put his hands up and backed into the store, eyes wide, "Please, it's all I have now. They took everything!"

I raised an eyebrow and tapped the trigger, shooting a round near his face. "Really? Because all I saw that they had was eight uncut crystals and a few tubes of ground Dust. You're telling me those were all you had in this shop? Now, before I lose my patience and add murder onto robbery, give me the rest of it." He quickly complied, filling a case with the remaining uncut and a few cut crystals until the case could hold no more.

However, before he pushed the case over to me, he spoke, "You are better than this. There is more, I know it. I can see it."

I glared coldly as I brought the barrel to his forehead once more, "You don't know a thing."

"I know more than you do. About yourself." He stated, conviction so laced in his tone that I wouldn't be surprised if all of Remant could hear it. "About your loss." Upon hearing that, I lashed out. Vice struck the side of his face, causing him to fall to the floor and I advanced, my eyes brimmed with ice-cold fury. He pleaded as I lay my finger on the trigger and slowly began to pull it.

Even as I began to do so, however, a voice echoed in my head, "You're going to be a Hunter-a true hero, right Machina?"

A/N: Been a while since I did one of these, huh? How'd you like it? I don't think I do a very good job at writing apathetic or emotionless characters, so tell me how I did. Your support is much appreciated. While this chapter follows the first episode, not all of them will be like that. In fact, only important events within the episodes will be followed. Aside from that, Machina will have his own story and his own adventures. This will be a darker story though, so I hope you enjoy and won't get used to the slight amount of humor because this is going to be one of the lightest chapters in this story. I'll put warnings before every chapter with what one might consider explicit content. Please R&R, follow and/or favorite, and flame. Your support-or hate-helps fuel my passion for writing.