One Crazy RWBY Fanfiction

By Daggershard

Yo, Daggershard here! Long-time-no-see! So, for those of you who want me to continue some of my past fanfics, I'm afraid I can't do that. I've just… lost the will to continue on with them. Besides, it's been years! Any ideas I might have had for those stories in the past are long gone. Sorry. But, I will do this one, although I might not get the chapters out very fast, with school starting soon. I'll probably try to get them out each weekend, or possibly every other weekend once the school year begins.

Now, just a warning, this fanfic will be, as the title says, crazy! (Although, chances are that the title will be changed at some point, once I get a better idea.) There will be many references to many fictional universes, the contents of which I own none of. These references will include, but are not limited to: Harry Potter, The Kane Chronicles, and God of War.

Hum… I think that's it for this intro. Feel free to display your rage in the Comment/Review section. Sorry if this first chapter is shite.

Wait, actually, one more thing: This fanfic will take place during a nondescript time in the RWBY timeline, between Volumes 2 and 3.

CHAPTER I: Weirdest Halloween Ever

October 31st, 2016 was the day my life changed. Well, my life's change happened over a period of about three days, but that's beside the point. The point is, my life wasn't the same after that day. There. Can I continue with my story, please? Thank you.

Anyway, that Halloween I was alone at the house, tasked with handing out candy to the trick-or-treaters that came by. My parents and younger sister were currently on their way to a costume party a little ways out of town—I didn't really want to go, and besides, someone had to be there to greet the trick-or-treaters! This year I had decided to dress up as a ginger chap named Roman Torchwick from one of my favorite web series ever, RWBY. It was difficult work, finding the right clothes, a cane, and a good enough wig. It was even more difficult putting the makeup on under my left eye. I am never doing that again!

Oh, right, you all probably want to know my name, don't you? It's Johan. No need to know my surname.

So, me, in my ginger wig and bowler hat, sat in my living room, watching The Big Bang Theory on TV while I waited for more ToT-ers to show up. It's been a rather slow Halloween, and I was worried that no more people would show up, as it was already 10:30 at night. Then I'd be left with a ton of leftover candy, and then I'd most likely eat it all and suffer a horrible stomachache in the morning… I just didn't want to have to deal with that. Thankfully, I wasn't disappointed.

In fact, I got more than I had hoped. A lot more.

I walked down the short flight of stairs to the front door and opened it up, pushing open the glass porch door a crack. Outside, on my porch, stood four teenage girls wearing very nice costumes: One was a busty blond wearing a brown jacket that showed off more cleavage than was really necessary, one was a black-haired girl wearing a dark bow atop her head, and she had amber eyes, one was a very pale girl with one massive ponytail on the side of her head, and the last one had dark hair that turned red at the tips, and she wore a very eye-catching hooded cape. How ironic. Or, it would have been ironic, if the blond hadn't raised her gauntleted fists in preparation to punch my face in!

I yelped "Shite!" and slammed the door—both doors, locking the innermost of the two. I could hear the girls talking on the other side, but the wooden door was too thick to make out anything intelligible. I took off my hat, pressed my ear to the wood, and listened in—or, more accurately, listened out—on the conversation.

"Yang, what are you doing?!" demanded one girl – she had a bossiness in her voice that I've only ever heard in my little sister. "He wasn't a threat!"

Wait, Yang? Either these girls were committed to their costumes and were role-playing as the characters they were dressed up as, or… No, not possible, not in infinity-plus-infinity years.

"Oh, come on, he looked just like Roman!" said the girl dressed up as Yang.

"No," said another girl, this one with what could only be described as an "emo" tone to her voice. "He didn't. He was much too short to be Roman, he wore glasses, and he had pimples. Plus, I could see brown hair under the orange hair. He's obviously wearing a wig."

Okay, first of all, it's dirty-blond, learn the difference. Second, I'm taking care of my acne, okay? I thought bitterly. Only, I hadn't just thought it. I had unlocked the door and swung it open and said what I was thinking, quite literally speaking my mind.

The four girls just stared at me, looking surprised. "Were you eavesdropping on us?" asked the bossy girl, putting her hands on her hips.

"Kind of hard not to, considering one of you tried to make my face into a Picasso." I glared at the girl who was allegedly Yang. "Now, who are you?"

"I'm Ruby!" cheered the red-hooded girl, smiling sweetly, almost apologetically.

"I'm Weiss," said the girl with the ponytail.

"Blake." The amber-eyed girl waved.

"Yang." The busty blond glared right back at me.

"And together we are—" Ruby's cheer was cut off by my hand raising in a "stop" gesture.

"Team RWBY, yeah, yeah. Now, cut the act. Who are you, really?" I knew that I really shouldn't be doubting them at this point, after their conversation outside my house, but I had to be sure.

Team RWBY exchanged glances with each other. They seemed uncertain if my question was serious or not. That was good enough for me.

"Alright, I believe you," I said. I stepped aside. "Get inside, make yourselves comfortable. I've got the feeling that we'll be talking a long time tonight."

The four girls walked inside. After Yang, the last one, had made it inside I shut the door, locked it, and turned off the porch light.