"Legends...Stories scattered through the ever-creeping passage of time. Different stories all end the same way, as the ones that tell them disappear and leave misremembered stories behind. There will be few that last this time, but we both know which ones will stay.
The one called Monty Oum, the first false hero brought into this world, helped forge a new power against the growing darkness with the new discovery of Dust. With it, the Grimm suddenly had something to fear, if, that is, they felt any emotion.
With these new powers, mankind was able to seal the figureheads of the Grimm away: The Alphas; massive abominations tasked with leading their bretherin to destroy humanity. With them captured and dealt with, man was able to flourish to what it was today.
Although, even with their destruction not so long ago, I can't help but notice the Grimm still are determined to do nothing but leave your cities in ruin, your subjects dead in the streets, your castle burnt to the ground. You think with their defeat, you have won, but you couldn't be more wrong. More of your protectors die every day; ones you fought alongside, ones you trained, even ones aspiring to be the legend you created. Face it, old friend. Your legends are nothing but failure.
"You've left out one crucial flaw in that knowledge."
"Hmm? And what might that be?"
"I know all too well as all old legends pass away, new ones rise, strong enough to withstand the hardship you throw upon them, no matter what it may be."
"You may be right, Ozpin...but allow me to prove you wrong ."
FROM THE CREATOR OF STORIES LIKE STOLEN INNOCENCE AND BROKEN HOME,
DUST2DUST17 PRESENTS...
TEAM RWBI
A "RWBY" NEXTGEN FIC
FOUR YEARS AGO...
"Ozpin, you can't be serious!"
"I know what I'm doing, Glynda. Beacon will be left in capable hands while I'm gone. Vale's council has already given the go-ahead."
"Yes, but those hands aren't mine!" Glynda fussed, almost sixty and pouting like she was a four year old denied her dessert before dinner.
"Trust me, Glynda. I dropped your name, but the council denied it. The only one they felt comfortable with was her." Ozpin reasoned. "She will do fine, as long as she has guidance from someone as experienced as you."
Glynda was ready to retort, but bit her lip as the engines of the ship behind him began to activate, a high-pitched whirring beginning to drown out the background noises around them. "At least take someone with you, Ozpin!" she suggested one last time.
"This is an errand I can handle myself, Glynda." Ozpin responded, waving off the recommendation. "I may not be as spry as I once was, but I can do this."
Glynda slowly backed away from the Bullhead landing pad as it made the final preparations for takeoff. "You better come back safely!" she called as the doors began to close.
"I intend to." Ozpin nodded, casting one final smirk across his face before the door shut completely, and the dropship took to the late evening skies. She watched as it departed, letting out a sigh before she turned back to the academy, walking back to the tower that held the administration offices.
"He has experience the rest of us lack." Glynda reminded herself as she walked inside and up to the elevators. "He's making the right decision...no matter what the outcome will be."
She continued thinking of that moniker until the elevator arrived at the headmaster's office. Not much had changed in it over the years, something the only other occupant in the room was marveling at until she heard the doors to the lift slide open. She still faced away from Glynda, but that tattered red cloak and black cascading hair tipped with dark red dye still were familiar to the old mage. "Mrs. Rose?" she called.
Ruby turned to face her old teacher, her good silver eye catching her in its view. "Glynda, this is a pleasant surprise." she smiled as she turned to meet her halfway with a handshake.
"I would say the same if I wasn't expecting you." the platinum blonde replied, returning the shake as she took in the reaper's features.
She was no longer the diminutive teen girl she ran into on a rooftop in Vale so many years ago. She had blossomed into a beautiful woman in her mid-30's, her youthful appearance mostly retained over the years. Her usual black and red outfit was still the same, save for the cloak that she now wore in addition to the scarf that made up her original one. A portion of it also made up her new feature: a triangular eyepatch bearing her emblem in black over her right eye. "So, what's Ozpin need me here for?" she asked.
"It's more what Vale needs you here for." Glynda corrected, walking to the front the desk. "Ozpin just left Beacon for a mission he alone is undertaking." She stared longingly down at the metallic furniture her old friend inhabited for years. "Due to its nature, classification, and undetermined schedule, it's tough to say when he's set to return. In the meantime, Vale's councilmen need someone to be this academy's headmaster in his absence."
Ruby's eye widened as she tried to figure what the mage was insinuating. "So...you brought me here to tell me you're the new Headmistress?" she asked.
The blonde shook her head. "No, Ruby. You are."
Ruby's jaw dropped as she tried to take this information in. "I'm...Beacon's next headmaster?" she thought aloud, moving to the window and looking down at the skyline of Vale across the cliffs.
"Interim headmistress." Glynda corrected. "Ozpin offered many names for a temporary replacement qualified for this position, but you were evidently the only one they could agree with."
Ruby turned back to face Glynda. "There's got to be some mistake then! I'm no teacher, Glynda!" she tried to reason.
"That's where I come in." Goodwitch explained. "I'll be here to advise you and give assistance when needed, but you have final say on all matters here." She placed a hand on the unsure younger woman's shoulder. "I know you're having a busy time with your family now, and I apologize for the added pressure, but this was beyond my or Ozpin's control."
Ruby mulled it over as she let out a sigh as she came to a decision. "You know, the added money could help boost my new daughter's college fund..." she thought aloud.
"That's...a yes then?" Glynda asked, looking for clarification. That reason wasn't exactly what she'd think would hook the brunette Huntress. With a nod from Ruby, she had her answer. "Well, very good then. However, why not Thorn's fund?" she had to ask.
Ruby's eyes turned to the floor as Glynda brought that up. "Thorn's...having some personal issues at the moment. I don't really want to get into it."
PRESENT DAY
Vale City: formerly the last bastion of humanity in a fifty mile radius. After that day almost twenty-five years ago, civilization has prospered, pushing back the darkness that once surrounded them and expanding. Vale now encompassed a state that reached from its northern tip to twenty miles south of Mountain Glenn...or the city formerly know as Mountain Glenn, but that's a story for another time.
In Vale City, people of all walks of life were walking about in the early afternoon sun, minding their own business as they walk around shopping, return to their places of business after a lunch break, or for some, prepare for the new school semesters beginning. Yes, it's a peaceful time where equality, love, and peace have brought about an almost utopian society.
"Hey, stop! Thieves!"
Well, I did say almost.
On a one-way street in the shopping district, the lunch hour crowd stopped and turned to the shout to see three men, wearing all black and hiding their identities with ski masks, jump into a parked car on the sidewalk outside a Dust shop. The owner dashed out just as the culprits peeled off and away from the curb. "I've just been robbed!" he shouted, watching as a police cruiser on the other side of the street pulled out and started chasing after the suspects' car, sirens wailing and lights flashing the whole way.
As the car chase wound its way through the urban jungle, the robbers trying to escape the fuzz on their tail, one lone individual lounging on the edge of an apartment building's roof perked his ears up to the sound of screeching tires and police sirens growing closer. He shifted his gaze down to the street below, watching through silver eyes as the lead car had people leaning out of it to fire handguns at the pursuing cops. Citizens on the sidewalks yelped in surprise as they took cover however they could while the rolling shootout passed by them.
With a sigh over his ruined nap, the man got up, dusting off his black jeans, and broke into a sprint of superhuman speed, a thin trail of rose petals in his wake. He jumped from rooftop to rooftop, following the chase intently as the drivers lead the way on a winding path to try and lose the officers hot on their tails, along with the other two cruisers that had joined in later on in the chase.
"You'd think they'd have got him by now." he thought as they noticed where the car was headed. The robbers were on a straightaway leading to the on-ramp of the highway. If the police didn't stop them now, they would lose the thieves easily in the traffic. Considering he was running out of rooftop to run along as well, he decided to take action. Reaching back into the holsters on his hips, he produced two red and black, metallic, lever action shotguns. He backflipped off the roof towards the lead car, his hood coming down in the wind and exposing his dark brown and red hair, two dog ears also present.
"Oh, Monty dammit." one of the cops in the pursuing cars muttered upon sight of him.
"What's wrong, Blanchard? Who is that?" his much younger partner asked.
"Just get on the radio, Collins." the older cop responded. "Tell HQ we have a Codeword: Prick. They'll know what it means."
The new arrival narrowed his silver eyes as he took aim in midair at the robbers' car. Firing off a shot, the riders inside ducked as the buckshot shattered their windshield and peppered the hood and roof. Another shot at closer proximity went through the front fender, popping one of the tires.
As he landed, the lead car spun out of control, crashing into a fire hydrant on the sidewalk and showering the wreck with a geyser of water. The robbers stumbled out, cursing and glaring down the young man who crashed them.
"Who the hell's this kid supposed to be?" one asked, flipping open his switchblade.
"Who the fuck cares? P, blast him!" a female robber ordered as the third stepped forward, taking aim at him with a submachine gun.
Before "P" could even get a shot off, the shotgun-toting vigilante had disappeared in a flash of red, all that remained where he stood were a small cluster of rose petals fluttering away in the wind. "What the-Where'd he go?" P wondered, lowering his firearm as he looked around. He only looked up too late, as he came face to face with the butt of a shotgun, busting his nose and spraying blood all over his mouth. "Agh!" was all P could spout out at the sudden breaking of his nose, only to be followed up with a kick that sent him flying through a cafe window behind the crashed car.
In retaliation, the other two culprits charged him, the female reaching back into the car and pulling out a lead pipe on the way. She took the lead, swinging at the vigilante wildly, only for him to inch or duck away from each strike until he caught one with the stock of his shotgun. As this happened, he grinned, clenching down on the lever of his shotgun as the barrel extended into a pole, the metal stock curving as the blade guard retracted, forming a sickle.
"Ah, shit, it's a Huntsman!" she cursed as a swipe from his scythe came her way. At first, she thought it missed, only for half of her pipe to suddenly clatter to the ground. Like P, she didn't have time to react as he swept her legs out from under her, following that up by the flat end of his scythe bashing against her skull. The hit sent her back into the pavement, where she landed, groaning in pain.
"You're gonna pay for that!" the final robber, the one wielding a switchblade, yelled as the scythe-user turned to narrowly miss that carved a cut on the right side of the vigilante's hoodie. Growling at the almost-landed strike, the scythe-wielder backed up as he slammed his other shotgun against his blade, the two combining to form a dual-bladed scythe, each curved length of steel on either side. In a flurry of petals, he spun the weapon in his hands at a speed that created a windstorm in the final robber's face, blowing the knife out of his hand as he tried to advance through it. Once he was disarmed, the spinning stopped, and the sudden resistance he had been fighting went with it. As he stumbled forward, the vigilante met him with a roundhouse kick that sent him into a streetlamp pole on the other side of the street.
"Ow..." the thief moaned, spitting out a tooth before noticing the scythe-wielder moving on him. "Okay, guy! You got us. We give up!" he called out nervously, only growing more panicked as his only response was a hand reaching out and grabbing him by his collar.
"You rob a store in my city, fire at the cops and me, cut my favorite shirt, and expect me to forgive you?" the vigilante growled before throwing him back against the pole.
"L-Look, we're sorry!" he responded, slinking back to the ground. "Just arrest us and take the Lien back to the guy we robbed!"
"And now you expect mercy? Tsk." he shook his head, angling one of his blades with the thief, raising it up.
"Wait, what the hell are you doing?" The man cried. "Huntsman aren't executioners!"
"I'm not a Huntsman." the vigilante simply said, bringing the scythe down...
Wait, why wasn't it moving?
He looked back to see a metallic arm, with a very familiar bracer attached to it, holding the blade back with what looked like no effort to the older blonde woman behind him. She wore a long brown overcoat whose coattails reached down to her shins over a sleeveless yellow shirt with her insignia on the front, along with black pants with a bumblebee patch sewn on her right thigh, as well as two bandoliers of shells wrapped around each leg.
"Thorn, stand down." Yang ordered, her eyes narrowing and turning orange.
"Yang, you're kinda obstructing justice at the moment." Thorn responded through clenched teeth.
"From the looks of those cop cars, so are you." she quipped, looking at the half dozen police cruisers behind them, then to the cowering culprit on the ground. "You. How 'bout you go let those good officers take care of ya, hm?" she suggested. The thief nodded rapidly, finding his feet and running to the police line, yelling something through his cries along the lines of "Just arrest me!"
"Yang, look-" Thorn started before he was whipped around to face her.
"That's AUNTIE Yang to you, Pup." Yang reminded, Thorn seething at the mention of his childhood nickname. "And we'll talk about this somewhere else, got it?" she ordered.
"...Got it." Thorn glared the two turning back to walk away.
And that's the start!
You've asked for more story about Thorn since he was introduced at the end of SI, and you've gotten it! I've been working on this since I've hit a bad case of writer's block with Broken Home, so I plan to update it periodically, trying not to give much away as I still have the rest of the stories leading up to this future to go through. Just know that this is going to be a story that starts off a bit darker than the first season of RWBY did. If you couldn't guess that from Thorn almost executing a petty thief just now, I don't know what will get you to understand it.
Anyway, I can't promise I know when this will get updated again, but for now, follow this if you like it, leave a comment because I love reading them, and I'll see you lads and lasses next time!