A/N: Alrighty-ighty, my dear snowflakes, Princess Santa Clause here, and I'm here to inform you that this story is a collab between Chained Fighter and I!

Wait! ...Lemme explain.

Now, we know Rwby is still relatively new, but that shouldn't stop a creative flow, AmIRight? So here's a crazy fanfic to set it off! Mixing a Self Insert with an Original Character story; because they're not enough craziness on their own! Still, it's super fun to work with her and write this. The catch? Well, with Rwby coming out with new episodes every Thursday, not everything may follow storyline. But THAT'S FINE! Because that's not our goal. This story will have a separate storyline, which may -and we're sure it will- merge with the canon storyline of Rwby from time to time. As a result, the canon storyline may be altered in this story; sometimes by a little and sometimes by a lot.

Second; this is a mainly OC story, excluding our SI's who will serve as the main characters here. There will be Canon Character appearances, but they will probably be kept to a minimum. Don't like that?

OH WELL. SANTA LOVES HER SNOWFLAKES ANYWAY.

This WILL be rated Teen; because Chantal, here, has a horrible sailor's mouth; and so do some of the OCs. Plus, it's nice having a little things for the teens and young adults and such. *FISTPUMP*

In this story, my SI character is represented by Chantal, and she, by Bonnie. NOW LET'S GET DOWN TO DIS SHIET.

Santa: *Motions over to Chained* TAKE IT AWAY 'BONNIE'.

Chained: A-ah….waita' put the pressure on me… Ah! Hi there! I'm not really used to a big crowd like this…Well no matter! This show must go on! I'm the Chained Fighter, and as you heard before, I'll be playing the role of Kiyo- er…Motsu- Gob dannit! Bonnie!

Santa: You'd totes be Kiyowa js. (That Lucky Stars Reference tho.)

Chained: There…now her little…snowflakes? Really?

Santa: DON'T JUDGE ME!

Chained: Well, I don't write the script here- it's time for a story that I hope you'll enjoy! Filled with-well, I can't just TELL you, now can I? Upupu… 10 points to whoever finds that quote out. And that is now it for the weather! Back to you Tal!

Santa: Where there you have it, folks! Ain't she a natural? LOL. Well! On with the story! Or uh.. Continue with the story.. for those of you who skipped this. *Eyeroll*

"If, by any chance, would it even be remotely possible to get a smaller lawn?" Mumbled a mocha skinned female as she trudged her electronic lawnmower across the thick grass. The mower was continuously losing power, causing the young lady to want to throw it off to the side in frustration. Gripping her teal nail-polished hands on the bar of the machine, she turned around on her heel, marching back to the garage to store the now dead device, not caring about her beat-up red and white tennis shoes. They could have more stained green as a result of the continuous walk through the grass for all she cared.

"You done?" She saw her brother's lips form into the words as she walked into the spacious garage; the reason that she wasn't able to hear him being that she still had on her music blasting ear buds straight from her iPod. The girl nodded her head in reply, prompting the young man to take the mower away from her as she aired out her loose shirt and gym shorts, finally reaching down to lower her black socks.

At rough tap on her shoulder was enough for her to turn back to her elder brother in surprise. "What?" Unfortunately, his mouth moved to fast for her to comprehend. Sighing and pulling up her brown toned glasses in the process, the female plucked one ear bud out of her ear, tipping her head as a signal for him to repeat himself.

"You did a good job," The girl's dark brown eyes dulled at the boy's comment, leading her to scratch the left section of her thick and black curly brown hair, a feature she hated more that her almost nonexistent eyebrows, which, at that point, were raised slightly.

"Is that all?" She asked, watching him store the machine beside a stack of wooden crates.

"Yea, pretty much," He grinned, knowing that it would take a while to have her ear bud in just the right position once more, lest she'd get a headache out of frustration.

"You're immature," Tugging at her chin length hair, the young girl rolled her eyes and tipped her head slightly, looking out into the scenery once more before it would be out of sight by the closing garage door.

At that moment, the melody of a piano began to play out to her adjusting ear, disrupting the track that was currently playing on her handheld device. The girl slowly looked up to the ceiling, the wall, and the floor in confusion before finally looking at her iPod to see if the water damage she caused it was coming back with a vengeance.

Sadly, the mobile device was playing smoothly, still playing its instrumental downloaded from one of her favorite video games. By the time the girl slowly took her ear buds out, the words started to play.

Mirror, tell me something

Tell me who's the lo~nliest of all

"Juni I promise on your handheld that if you've been messing with my music I'll-" She stopped cold as she noticed her brother wasn't in the garage with her. In fact, nothing was in the garage with her; the lawnmower was nowhere to be found, the stacks of crates and other tools were all gone, most of them being too hard to carry without a few hours and much needed help. Even the walls were stripped of the papers they usually had, not even leaving the squares of carpet in the now bare room. Paling, the girl dropped to her knees, pulling her hands to her chest and interlocking her fingers.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, oh God please I'm sorry," The girl repeated frantically as the music was well past the beginning and heading to the middle. She repeated the same words, soon saying them in every language she could in order to trigger some secret code to have everything back to normal. Because this was anything but normal, "Quit fooling around you guys!" She helplessly called out to the rest of her four siblings, hoping that it was some kind of joke, "You know I don't like being scared!" The girl knew the music well; it was the theme from her favorite RWBY character, Weiss Schnee, sung by Casey Lee Williams. Hopefully someone had dug into her playlist and snatched the first thing they saw, playing it to scare her. Of course, that was it. She was fine and that was that.

Unfortunately, things went from bad to worse for the young lady, for as soon as the piano music took an intense turn, the girl was sent spiraling down a glowing white hole in the middle of her garage. She shrieked, wishing to be back in her home as she continued her speedy decent down the swirled passage until the last note played, prompting the hole to close. The female ceased her shrieks as she fell face first unto a tan tiled floor, quickly getting up on her knees and rubbing her nose at the sheer pain of it all.

"Ow…" She muttered. Finally realizing the situation she was in, she hastily peered up at her surroundings, her eyes not being able to open widely as a result of the fall. Her eye problem was soon cleared up as her heart felt like it was about to jump out of her throat, open the front door, and never look back.

She was in a classroom, that was for certain; a lecture hall of sorts, staring into the countless eyes if students, all silent and looking back at her. As her stomach flip flopped, she could only stammer.

"Th-this isn't…" At last, in a flash of green and pink, all the girl then saw was black.

Sigh...

Walking down the driveway after a tiring, yet somewhat exciting day of school, a young brunette could only sigh to herself. Gazing upon the multiple cars that littered her driveway, her brown eyes only needed to swipe once to know that none of those car owners were present. See, for whatever reason, people around this house had an odd kind of taste when it came to vehicles, most of the time, that taste being that they wanted more than one. It was a confusing thing for the sophmore student, considering she had yet to receive even one drivable car or truck, for that matter, of her own. Regardless of that fact, she never complained. Driving was something that frightened her a bit.

Shaking the thought from her head in a hasty fashion that forced her somewhat shaggy, and purposely fluffed ponytail to swing and smack against her cheeks repeatedly, she forced her mind back into the present. A subtle yawn escaped her lips, one that she made no attempt to stifle as she dragged herself up the pale blue steps of her porch. Just as she was about to enter, the sound of an engine snatched her attention. Despite this small, rural-like sector of suburbia being relatively peaceful and void of any real outlawish behavior, she forced herself to turn out of a sliver of internal paranoia.

Her father's bulky truck had just pulled in, much to her delight. Days that he arrived home early were days that she could walk inside and take a load off, rather than waiting around for an hour until her nephew's bus came speeding down the main stretch. "Thanks dad," She murmured to herself while waving her hand towards his peering head. He merely acknowledged her with a nod; so clearly he had other business at the time, likely a phone call by the way his voice reached even through the wound up truck window. She turned and entered through the white painted door and into the blue-gray entry room.

Another yawn stretched through her lips as she now trudged reluctantly down the hallway, where she ditched her heavy bundle of books on the surface of her desk. What to do, what to do.. There were usually alot of things to do, but they were never really brought to her attention until her mom came home and began to bellow about what could have been done. Despite her knowledge of what her mom would say, and her overwhelming urge to lip sync her prediction in a mocking motion, she, surprisingly, passed up the opportunity. Instead, she moved out, back into the hallway, through the entry room, and into the family room, which was a dull painted beige, despite its exotic green carpet.

What to do... What to do...

Food was an idea, and yet her stomach kind of opted against it. A videogame maybe? Nah, she didn't feel too motivated for that... Drawing? Nope. Writing... She hadn't had an idea for any kind of story in months...

"Another day in the life of Chantal, huh.."

Sighing for what seemed like the 50th time that day, the brunette resigned to the black leather couch beside her. It was pressed against the wall, thus far from the sun, and as a result was cold to the touch. Ignoring the slight shiver for now, Chantal turned onto her side and pressed her knees up somewhat towards her chest. She was too tired to worry about the cold right now; besides, she handled the cold relatively well, or at least better than heat.

For the third time in less than ten minutes, she yawned, intense enough to bring a slight swelling of water to the corners of her eyes. Even if she seemed this fatigued, she knew she wouldn't sleep. She hardly ever took naps, because her body's internal clock seemed to follow a certain 'once you're up, you stay up', kind of policy -without her acceptance, of course-. Yep.. even if she really wanted to, there was just no way she would actually-

"zzzzzzzz"

Well.. Perhaps she was even more tired than she once thought.

Slowly, faint, purple dusted eyelids began to slowly open. The room was blurred and her eyes felt a little heavy at the moment, "errrr.." She murmured softly to herself. Her ears felt like they were ringing a familiar tune, but she couldn't be too sure about that right now. More than anything, she needed to gather her bearings. Last time she checked, she had fallen asleep on the couch, a bedding area that was a little less than comfortable, what with her head resting on an entirely higher level than her body. It put undesired stress on her neck that felt tense and painful through the side. Ah yes.. that dreaded couch.. Slowly, she raised her body up, keeping her back straight and neck stiff. Moving it would likely cost a shit load of pain that she simply didn't want to deal with just after waking, "Okay.." She said to herself in coaching, shutting her eyes, "Here we go.." Placing her hand carefully up on the side of her neck, she tipped her head off to lean on the right side.

Surprisingly enough, there was no pain.

That's when her eyes opened, sharpness of her sight through the glasses she had fallen asleep in suddenly focusing. First, the medium brown eyes of hers focused on the bed in which she lied, "The fuck.." She murmured to herself. The bed sheets were jumbled together in an untidy ball that rested atop her legs, but more importantly, they were white. Her own bedding was blue, her mother and father's was black, her sister's and nephew's a soft beige, and her brother's, steel gray. Nowhere in their house were there white sheets.

Not only that, but she came to notice the bed was rather narrow, probably just large enough to comfortably provide for one person. Every other bed in her home was large enough for at least two. This was peculiar, very peculiar, and as a result of these numerous abnormalities, her breathing pace began to quicken.

Softly swallowing, Chantal lifted her head hesitantly to take in the rest of the room. It was large and mainly white with subtle trimmings of red. Nowhere in her house, after her father's experimental painting sessions, were there white walls. Now, breathing went from quick and unsteady in pace, to caught in her throat and hardly releasing. For a period, in fact, she was frozen out of these oddities' impact on her sliver of present paranoia.

Not a word passed through her sealed lips as she turned her body and moved to hop from the bed, but she noticed, a second too late, that the distance from suspended air to floor was alot higher than her own bed at home. As a result of the underjudged jump, she felt herself fall face first into the floor. She was a clutz, and she would own up to that, but the current jelly-kneed state she was facing certainly didn't help her case. "Bitch.." She muttered under her breath, whilst rubbing at her throbbing nose and stumbling to her feet in a disoriented fashion.

Her head craned around to scan the room one more time. No signs of anyone else anywhere, in fact, it seemed to be a relatively large room of nothing but emptiness. She would move hesitantly towards the door.

"I need to keep quiet," She assured herself in a hushed whisper. Her hand pressed open the door, and she prayed to herself that there would be no backlash to her action, like the creak of an unoiled door hinge. Fortunately, there was none. "I've seen this kind of shit on the I.D. channel too many times before..." Her head poked out of the door, a little at first, then in its entirety.

Large hallways with such high ceilings, that it made her little 5'6 seem completely insignificant. Suddenly, she felt very small. A little unnerving, sure, being that she would always tell her mother she didn't want a big house for fear that she would get lost in it, but she was determined that it wouldn't halt her exploration. After all, it never stopped those abducted women on the I.D. channel. She tiptoed at first, looking around and making the attempt to commit the layout to memory, then after a few minutes of walking without as much as a footstep in the distance, she began to walk more casually.

To the her left, a door that was slightly ajar opened further by the soft push of someone on the inside. The one walking out of the door was a man, not particularly old though his grayish-white hair color said otherwise, adorned in a dark green suit with a series of lighter green shades. The man even wore green toned glasses, barely covering up his sharp silver eyes. As he walked further out of his room, he noticed this light brunette, who hadn't heard the small creaking of the door, walking through the hallway. Sipping what seemed like a brown liquid in a white mug he held with a dark cane in his opposite hand, the man hummed softly in thought, raising a brow before recollecting his thoughts. Lowering the mug from his mouth, he slowly nodded his head in comprehension, calmly stepping towards her,his neutral facial expression unchanging.

"So, it seems that you've made your way out without the need of any assistance," His semi-deep voice, although at a low volume and in a very large place, resonated through the hall, soon to reach Chantal.

Although he hadn't seemed too threatening from a face-to-face view, this wasn't a face to face view. He had practically snuck up behind her, being that he exited whilst she continued to walk, "A...Ah.." She trailed to herself involuntarily. She was a bit nervous, and the rapid drying of her throat made that clear. Ever so slowly, she began to turn around. Alright... so that was peculiar.. It seemed this male greatly resembled a character from Rwby she had seen through the first season; -which was practically the only season she had even began to see-. Her mind forced her to shake it off. Clearly, that was the most impossible thing that could happen right now, as well as the most cliche. Narrowing a cautious glare, she looked up at his outfit, -which seemed pretty accurate-, then to his face and hair. 'Shame on me for even thinking that.. That's the FAKESTsilver hair I've ever seen...' Without answering the man at all, she began to hold her glare strong, whilst slowly retreating in -what she hoped to be- undetectable baby steps.

The silver haired man raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of his coffee, noticing the girl's cautious movements. Peering behind the young female, he knew exactly where she was going to run off to. At that moment, a soft smile came across his face before speaking once more,

"Now before you go running off, I-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Chantal turned a 180 and broke into a sprint down the hallway, "HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME!" She practically screeched, nearly stumbling as she kept up her running. She needed assistance. This place was large, but she was paying no attention to detail. It was so empty, in fact, that she was sure she could continue running straight down without seeing a single face, nor hearing a single footstep.

"I think.." She trailed, looking around, "I'm.. in the clear.." She'd ran long enough, right? She should have lost the man. Plus, he was nowhere in sight. Yes, she must have lost him. Her breaths were a little sharp and rasped, and her legs were tingling from fatigue. She had been running for a while, and her adrenaline was beginning to forsake her internal fuel tanks. Sighing, she took this time to actually pay closer attention to her surroundings, rather than just trying to remember for layout purposes. It bore, now that she realized, a striking resemblance to Beacon... And this could only mean two things... Well considering she had mentally vowed to outtake any possible supernatural behavior from the equation, just because of a few abnormalities, that meant... This could only mean one thing.

"These sick...cosplayers," She began to grumble under her breath, medium brown eyes suddenly beginning to grow wide behind her purple pattern-framed glasses, "They kidnapped me, and... they're planning to... Whataretheyplanningtodo.." She shook her head, "Ugh! It doesn't matter what they're trying to do! It's just something no good, I know! Wait.." Suddenly stepping backwards and placing her hand over her chest, she gripped at the black polo shirt in a handful, "I'm talkng to myself.. I'm going frigging nuts... Okay.. think. think!"

She enclosed her hands into a tight fist and stormed over to the wall on the opposite side of the hallway, "There's no way that this place.. This manor.. This fake-me-out Beacon.. Hah.." She trailed awkwardly, legitamently beginning to believe she was falling into a state of insanity, "Hah.. It's cardboard..or something.." Her foot reared back, and she slammed her toe into the wall, "OW! Ow ow owww!" Okay, so it definitely was not cardboard. Her pained toe could vouch for that much. She brought her foot up closer to her thigh level and gripped onto her toe whilst jumping up and down, "Ow ow owww..!"

This was around the time that she noticed the Hallway had gotten alot busier. Her eyes lulled over to the side, and immediately she paused, stopping her writhing and hopping, but still holding her foot, "What..." She trailed, watching the people walk by, and some shoot her odd glances, "The Hell is going onnn hereee..?" She trailed to herself in a muffled, sing-song tone that came whisping out from pursed lips.

Her mind began to focus on a possibility, or a need for escape whilst possibly helping others in the process, "HEY!" She shouted, throwing her foot down, though hobbling on it a bit while flailing her arms around, "You're all in danger! There's a kidnapper among you!"

Apparently, her warning didn't come off as she wished, for majority of the uniformed students were staring at her like she was insane. Not the reaction she was going for.

A/N: Whelp! That's Chapter 1... Yep. 1. That's the end. On a cliffhanger... GET MAD ALL YOU WANT, but I recomend you don't, because while you're flailing and storming around the house like Godzilla, you might miss out on when we upload the rest later on!

That's right; Since we didn't meet the deadline due to technical difficulties, we'll be posting the rest of this chapter somewhere around midnight tonight. After all, the only reason we sent it through the trimmer was because it was SUPER long; but hey, most good Pilots are.

Santa: To you again, Chained!

Chained: Again!? Ah, where do I begin…I hope you liked it! And just so ya know, I didn't decide on the cliffe-cliff…hangar…eheheh… she did! It was her! She is the one you want…

Santa: Wow! Way to rat me out, you jerkwad!

Chained: . ...Anywho, the chappy-chap shall be put up! That….that right there…that was my idea…don't kill me! Take it away Tom-er, Tal…

Santa: Tom. Nice... Anywhore. She's right. Cliffhanger was my idea. I'm evil. You're lucky she's the nicer of the two of us and decided to save yo- I mean. I love you, Snowflakes...*Hearts* Cya at later to see if we're screwed!