Well folks, here comes a new fic. I needed a break from Bioshock, as i just wasn't feeling it. Cranked this chapter out just now, today, so its going to be a little rough.
This story is going to be seriously difficult to write for me, so I don't know about an update schedule.
I am going for a darker, more serious, and more deep feeling in this piece. It is going to be focusing on the war between the faunus and humanity, as well as paralleling the story line of RWBY, or at least trying to. I may add a bit to get it to mesh better.
I am planning on turning this into a romance. I don't know with which character yet, but there will be lovveee.
BTW written entirely while listening to Sycamour. Great band. Check them out.
The whole scene was just like a lucid dream to the young man.
A storm front on the horizon, the sun setting behind it casting a strange glow across the street. The colorless grey buildings looked orange. The street was a rusty dust color. The sky overhead was orange as well.
The whole world was a warm monochrome, but it wasn't comforting. It was rather oppressive. There was no life, no green. Just red, orange, and the searing yellow of the setting sun, slowly disappearing behind the ominous line of black that was the coming storm front.
The humidity was oppressive as well and hung in the air as a visible orange fog, lit by the sun.
A dozen kids were running around in masks wearing little more than rags, prancing in the filth of the gutter. He could see their gaunt necks and spindle like legs. They were starving to death, clearly. That didn't stop their childhood joy though. They would play until they couldn't move, and then die. Forgotten and alone. It happened far too often. He had seen it with his own eyes. He could tell how many days they had left by the tone of their skin and the thickness of their necks.
For months he could do nothing. What could he give? He had no money. He could barely feed himself.
He turned and walked back into his apartment, grabbing all the food he had sitting about.
He couldn't give them shelter, but he could at least offer them a meal. He knew he could survive probably a week with no food at this point.
He stood on the steps into his rundown building, watching the children playing about in the street once more. He held the pile of food in his arms.
He wasn't too well fed himself. His ribs were clearly visible. His legs were a little too thin for a man of his age. A dark stubble hid his pale and narrow face.
He had done a few jobs recently and had scraped together enough cash to stock up on food for a while. Things were looking good for once.
He waved tiredly too one of the children, motioning for them to come over.
They danced over to him, still laughing and play wrestling. He could see the dangling ears and tails of some of the children. It didn't faze him. Faunus were common in this part of the city.
He held out a loaf of bread to the first child.
With shaking hands, the child took the bread into his hands. He stared at it with a strange reverence before shifting his gaze to the man's tired face.
"Share with your friends."
The young boy nodded and slowly turned and walked back to the small group. The man followed, dumping the armful of food he had been carrying into the center of the now seated children.
Dinner in the middle of the street. Car's weren't a problem in this part of the city. No one wanted to drive through anyway.
The children broke the bread and cheese that the man had dropped for them. He stood and watched.
They ate slowly, taking nearly a half hour to finish the first loaf of bread he had given them.
A child at his feet pulled of the mask she had been wearing, placing it behind her.
The man stared down at the strange thing. He reached down and picked it up, feeling the cold ceramic under his fingers.
The young girl at his feet looked up at him with mild interest.
He turned the mask over in his fingers. The right temple had a jagged hole punched through it. Rusty red streaked around it and ran down the side of the mask.
"Where did you get this mask?" The man ask monotonously.
The girl at his feet giggled.
"In the alley! There were dozens of people sleeping! We grabbed them from them after we tried to shake them awake. They didn't seem to care at all!"
The girl snatched the mask out of his hands. She showed him the red stains.
"See! This one had red face paint on! All the others had paint on them too!" She cried out, not a trace of concern in her voice.
The man's hands dropped down to his sides, a hint of a tremor running through them. The whole world seemed a little bit more cloudy.
"Which alley was that?"
The girl twirled about breaking into dance again. Her long thin tail whipping about her. She hopped up on one foot and pointed down the street a block.
"That one down there! If you move fast, they might still be asleep when you get there! You could get a mask too!" The girl sang playfully.
The man glanced down the street again. A man dressed in black leaned against the building across from the alley. There was a long, noticeable bulge along his side under his coat.
Not many people wore coats in this kind of weather.
The girl danced about the young man, the mask pressed onto her face.
He reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder.
"Do you and your friends have somewhere that you usually sleep at? Some sort of shelter?"
The young girl looked up at him again.
"Yah, a few blocks down from here, under the bridge."
The man nodded.
"Go there and finish your dinner. Stay warm during the storm. I need you to leave now." The man said softly.
The girl whined and danced around some more. She slapped her hands into her sides with a huff.
"Fine. Thank you for the food." She said with an exaggerated pout.
In a moment the children were dancing off down the road.
The sky was the color of blood and the heat was choking.
The young man glanced down the road at the figure dressed in black.
He was staring at him. His left arm was resting on the bulge in his coat.
He stared right back.
The young man gave him a half hearted wave before walking quickly back into his rundown apartment.
He flopped down into the rickety wooden chair next to the small table in his room.
He thought he was going to be sick. He sat for a moment.
The world outside was dark already. Rain fell softly onto his window.
It took only moments for the drizzle to become a thundering storm.
There was a steady drip from the ceiling.
The lights went out, and the room plunged into a sickening darkness. The man finally moved from his seat. He couldn't trip over anything in the room. There was nothing to trip over. Just a bed, a table, and a chair.
He lay down on the hard mattress under the sole window. There was no comforting blue glow from the rainy night outside this time. There was only soulless shadow. Total darkness.
What were the children doing?
He finally dozed off to sleep.
Thump. Craaassshhh!
The young man shot up. That was far louder than a bolt of lightning.
Why was his room lit up?
Crunch!
The man fell back into his bed, blood spraying from his nose.
He let out a hoarse scream and rolled for his knife on the floor next to his bed.
Thump!
A fist slammed into his gut, driving the breath out of his lungs. Another fist flew into his face, causing another flash of stars to fly about the darkness.
A cold hand grabbed his arm and pulled him onto the floor.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Three kicks to the stomach and the world was already looking darker than before, if that was even possible. He was gagging for air.
The cold hand was on his arm again, pulling him up. Another one grabbed his other arm. A stinking bag was pulled over his head.
He could hear the hum of a hovercraft over the hammering of the rain and the random crashes of thunder.
The men on either side of him were shouting, but he could tell what they were saying. The whole world was spinning but he couldn't see anything.
The stairs beat against his feat as he was dragged down a level. His heels crashed painfully as they reached the main floor.
The door was kicked open with another crash.
The bag was immediately soaked through. The rain was beating down on him like a thousand hammers. How was it even possible for it to rain this hard?
The man on his right slipped and fell, swears rising over a crash of thunder.
The second man dropped him, reaching to help his buddy. He landed face first into a puddle, the bag still covering his head.
Dirty water flew up his nose, sending his battered lungs into another coughing fit. He couldn't breathe!
His hands flew up, pulling his face out of the puddle. A boot flew into his ribs and he rolled onto his back, gasping for air yet again.
The hands grabbed him under the arms and started to drag him again. The bag was soaked through. He wasn't under water, but he was still drowning.
The rain hammered down relentlessly. It was just another pair of hands holding him down.
The chopping of the hovercraft grew louder. He could feel the down draft. Stinging needles of rain flew into his back.
Cold, dry steel was under his hands, which were dragging uselessly at his sides. Light was shining through the sodden bag covering his face.
The hands dragging him suddenly tossed him. He slammed into a metal wall, slumping down onto his back. He heard a door slam shut. The hydraulic purr of the loading ramp hummed through his body.
The sound of the rain suddenly seemed a little more distance.
He reached up and pulled the soaked bag off of his face. He coughed, water spraying from his mouth. His arm flopped onto the ground.
Painfully bright bar lights dangled above him. He was in a cage.
The world faded to black.
"Back off the bars you little shit!" The masked man shouted as he bashed a steel rod into the bars of the cage, barely missing the young man's fingers.
The young man stumbled back from the bars, landing in a heap on the floor of the hovercraft. Both of his eyes were black and swollen. Blood ran heavily down his chin and coated the thin tank top he was wearing
A crash of thunder shook the ship. The dull bar lights flickered slightly.
"Who the hell are you people?" The man asked grimly.
The masked man snorted and tapped the steel staff against the plated floor of craft.
"We are the ones who bring the pain down on people like you!" He answered simply.
The young man wiped the blood out from under his nose. He noted the guard didn't appear very smug. He seemed almost professional.
"And who would people like me be?"
The guard suddenly seemed furious.
"You little traitors! Think you are doing the right thing helping those scum? Do you know how many people have been killed by the White Fang? Do you even understand what those terrorists do to people?" The man shouted, the tapping of his staff growing more rapid and vicious.
The face of the young man in the cage shifted from deadpan to confusion.
"Who are you..."
The masked man seemingly snapped. The staff bashed into the cage.
"Don't you play stupid with me! You thing we didn't see you helping those filthy faunus? You think we don't know who the hell you are working for?" The man spat, practically shaking with anger.
"I have no idea what you are talking about! I just gave some food to some random kids!"
The man snorted, pacing around a bit more quickly. He twirled the staff in his hands.
"Right. We believe you. They were just a bunch of masked kids. Faunus kids at that. How stupid are you? Do you really think that you can convince us that you didn't know they were White Fang?"
The pilot of the craft turned around in his seat.
"Would you tone it done back there? I don't need another damn distraction!" He shouted. Another crash of thunder shook the ship. The lights flicked out for a moment.
The raging man glared at the young man within the cage.
"If it was up to me, I would have you beaten in the streets. Executed publicly for all to see. Show the other scum like you what happens when you work against humanity. Show the others what happens when you disregard all that the damn terrorists have taken from us."
A flash of pain shot across the masked mans eyes. He turned away and sat down across the ship from the cage.
The young man pulled himself into the corner of the cage, bracing himself against the turbulence.
He was soaked through. The air conditioned chill of the craft stabbed through his skin. He was use to the incredible heat outside.
There was silence for a few minutes, only the sounds of the storm they were flying through filling the space. The hammering of the rain had grown even louder. The lights were a little more dim now.
The guard spoke up again.
"I didn't expect this from someone like you. You were suppose to be a servant of humanity. You were a good man. You were going to be something great for us." The guard said quietly, a hint of disgust in his voice. He held up a rather ratty grey long coat. He tossed it to the floor in front of the cage. Two weapons followed, landing on top of it.
They were fighting picks. Charcoal grey metal that caught the light ever so slightly.
"You were practically one of us." The masked man whispered. The young man was still utterly confused. He never knew who he did his jobs for.
"You did so much work for us, we trusted you as one of our own!" The man suddenly shouted. He was on his feet again, yelling and seething. The young man merely watched, unable to respond. He was still totally lost in the situation. He had no clue who this man was, but he had a slight idea who he was working for.
There was dead silence in the cabin again.
"If it makes you feel any better, you aren't the only one being punished for this." He said with a laugh.
The young man remained quiet.
"Oh, no. You are not the only one. Those children you helped?" The man said evenly as he slowly walked towards the cage.
The young man's eyes were suddenly locked onto the guard with incredible intensity.
"Yah, those kids? We followed them. Gunned those fucking terrorists down under a bridge. We thought we had killed all the Fang in the area, but..." The man was suddenly cut off as the lights flicked off for a second.
Silence.
Whump!
The lights flicked back on.
With a primal roar, the young man slammed the guards head into the bars of the cage. As soon as the lights had flicked off, he had moved, slipping his hand between the bars and grabbing the guard by the back of the head.
"You! Slam! Fucking! Slam! Bastard! Slam!"
The guards nose broke with a crunch.
Slam!
"They were just a bunch of fucking kids!" The man screamed with a sob.
Slam!
"They found the people you gunned down in that fucking alley! They were just kids!"
Slam! Crack!
The man released the guard with another cry of anguish.
The crumpled to the ground, blood slowly pooling on the floor.
The pilot swore.
"I said tone it..."
He spotted the guard, crumpled on the floor, dead.
"Fu..." The pilot started, reaching for his sidearm on his opposite hip.
What happened next utterly confused the young man.
The cockpit window suddenly exploded inward.
In a split second the inside of the craft was soaking wet.
The lights flicked out, a crash of thunder sounded, utterly deafening with the now broken window.
The lights flicked on. A black blur flew through the shattered cockpit window.
Blood flew through the air. The pilot was totally eviscerated.
The young man stumbled back into the corner of the cage as blood splashed across the room.
Another crash of thunder. The lights flicked out.
The horrible grinding screech of metal on something filled the air.
The lights were on.
Giant claws were shearing through the cockpit. Dust and fuel spilled onto the floor, quickly covering the entire area.
The lights were out.
A blue flash pierced the darkness. A short circuit.
Fire everywhere. The heat was almost instantly unbearable. It licked at his feet and threw a hideous, deathly glow everywhere.
He yelled in fear, rolling away from the flames only to be stopped by the wall of the cage.
The sickening feeling of lightness washed over him. They were descending fast.
The sound of shearing metal was absolutely deafening at this point. The bars of the cage were sheared through with a ting ting ting.
He was outside suddenly, weightless and tumbling through the air and rain. For a split second he saw the lights of the city in the distance. Then he saw a massive bolt of lightning in the clouds above.
Trees under him.
Boooooooommmmmmm!
Thunder.
The flaming wreckage of the hovercraft was slowly flying away from him, massive yellow arcs of fire bursting from the shredded hull.
He was looking at the sky again.
He was looking at the ground again.
He was tumbling incredibly fast.
His head whipped around and his eyes focused onto the first thing he saw. His hand.
Flames whipped off and around it, licking up his arm a bit. The rain and wind had yet to snuff out the burning fuel. He felt no pain.
The trees were getting bigger. The wind whipping past his ears was unbearably loud.
His body suddenly seemed to understand what was happening to him.
Sheer fear poured through his body. He was on fire with adrenaline.
How was he going to land?
Whacckkkkkkk!
Well there is chapter 1. Update coming sometime later.
Tell me how you liked it! I honestly think I should have made it a bit more wordy, but i wasn't sure.