A/N: Hornet here.
This is an idea I've had for a while. Figured it would make a decent story. I don't plan to let this replace Deep Purple, however, I am suffering from severe writer's block for that fic.
Despite it being located in the center of the City of Vale, the Vale Police Department lockup was surprisingly devoid of occupants. The barrenness of the holding cell was strange, considering the amount of street crime that took place in that particular part of the city. Most of the time, the precinct was as busy and loud as a subway station. Tonight, however, the only guests of the police were two young men brought in on charges of assault.
They were seated on opposite ends of the large, concrete room. Glowing metal bands held their hands together with the use of magnetized Dust crystals. The so-called "Dust-Cuffs" were a recent innovation in detainment technology, courtesy of the Schnee Dust Company, and had aided law-enforcement in safely apprehending criminals all over Remnant. Currently, one of the detainees was vigorously struggling with his cuffs in a futile attempt to remove them.
He glanced at his cell-mate cautiously before frantically calling out to the nearest guard. "Hey! Hey officer, you gotta get me outta here, man. This guy's crazy!"
"Shut up in there!" the guard replied, lazily sipping his coffee before returning his attention to the semi-finals of the Vytal Festival on his scroll. "Damn, Beacon's getting their butts handed to 'em this year," he muttered.
The greasy man did not heed the cop's instructions and continued his rant, undeterred. "I'm serious man, he's gonna kill me if you don't let me out. I didn't even do anything to get in here in the first place. He just attacked me out of nowhere."
The officer stood up and walked over to the bars of the cell. "I'll tell you what. Either you shut the hell up, or I cut the maniac loose. Then we'll see just how crazy he really is." He held up his keys in a threatening manner. The man shook his head violently and sat back down quietly.
The "maniac" in question laughed and began to growl sarcastically, mocking the frantic man. In reality, he had no intentions of killing the thug. That's not to say he didn't look like he would. He was garbed in ripped black jeans, black combat boots, and a grey shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing pale, muscular forearms. Over his shirt, he wore a black and red leather vest with a blood red decal of a rose, surrounded by two arches on the back. His hair matched his overall aesthetic and color-pallet. It was black with red highlights, pulled back into a messy ponytail.
His most intimidating feature, however, were his eyes (well, eye). The right one was piercing and silver, while the left was covered by a worn, black leather eye-patch. All in all, the young man had the appearance of a grizzled and battle-hardened huntsman.
Suddenly, a door opened and slammed closed again down the hallway. Two sets of footsteps along with a lot of chatter began making their way closer.
One of the voices, a man, was doing most of the talking. "Miss Xiao Long, this is the fourth time this month that we've had to detain him," he said. "I'm sorry, but if your nephew gets himself into trouble one more time, not even your influence will be enough to get him out here."
"I understand, Commissioner," replied a female voice. "And you don't need to worry anymore. Jasper's weekly stays in the Hotel de V.P.D. end tonight."
As the pair entered the room, the Commissioner finished the conversation. "All due respect, ma'am, I'll believe it when I see it."
Commissioner Church was a short, stocky faunus, with a pair of brown pointy dog ears poking out of his light brown hair. He was dressed in the standard Vale P.D. uniform: a light blue dress shirt, black slacks, and dress shoes.
The woman to which he was speaking was Yang Xiao Long: Huntress, hero, and all around badass. She was also the only member of Team RWBY that was still on active duty. If there was ever anyone that didn't look her age, it was Yang. At the age of forty-four, she managed to maintain a somewhat youthful complexion, not a single hair in her golden mane had any hint of grey, and she was still fit enough to wrestle an Ursa to the ground barehanded.
As for her attire, she wore a brown leather jacket that appeared to be a size too small, as it hugged her torso and shoulders quite snuggly. The right sleeve was rolled up to the elbow, providing an adequate view of her yellow and black prosthetic arm. Underneath the coat, the low neckline of a bright yellow t-shirt could just barely be seen. Her tight pants were of the same material and color of her jacket and had an intricate design of a dragon running down the left leg. Yang's feet and shins were clad in high top boots that were meant for fashion as much as function. With them on, she could curb-stomp a Beowolf and strut a runway on the same night.
Any man or woman that didn't know who she was would've been awestruck by her. At this moment, however, she instilled nothing but fear. Her lilac eyes scanned the room, searching for any kind of threat, a habit she had acquired after years of fighting in the war against Salem. Finally, her gaze locked on the one-eyed perp in the cell. He smiled nervously and waved, and she rolled her eyes, annoyed.
Clearing his throat, the Commissioner spoke to the guard, who was still engrossed in his scroll. "Andersmith, let him out."
"Hmm? Oh, Commissioner Church, sir," Andersmith scrambled to his feet, stuffing the device in his pocket. "Umm...Which one?"
Church sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "The regular," he groaned.
"Right," Andersmith walked to the cell door. "Arc!" he barked. "Get over here. Nice and slow."
The silver-eyed man rose and smoothly made his way to the guard, as his restraints were removed, he glanced at the other occupant. With a smirk, he stuck his tongue out. Which, in turn, prompted a scowl. Jasper laughed and turned to Andersmith as the door opened. "Is it time for my hour in the yard, Boss?"
"Don't be a smartass," he said as the door clanged shut.
"Rather be a smartass than a dumbass, chief," Jasper returned cheerily.
"Who says you're not both?" Yang piped in. "You're in here every weekend."
He opened his mouth to fire off another rebuttal but realized that he had nothing to counter her comment.
"Touché," he replied as the officer removed his cuffs.
Church interrupted the sarcastic conversation. "Andersmith, take Miss Xiao Long and Mr. Arc here to get his things. Then see them out," he ordered.
Andersmith nodded. "Yes sir, but someone has to stay here to watch the cell."
"I'll take over for a while. I need a break from paperwork anyway." The Commissioner took Andersmith's seat after retrieving for himself a cup of coffee from the machine in the hallway. "Take care, Yang. And remember what I said. No more second chances."
Yang waved as she stepped through the door. "Got it, Church. It's been fun as always."
All the way down the corridor, Jasper could feel Yang's eyes burning holes through the back of his skull. It was never wise of him to earn his aunt's ire, but, for some reason, he was drawn to the danger all the same. Perhaps it was a trait he inherited from his mother, who was always finding some way to pester her sister. Whatever the case was, he was going to regret his evening's activities on the ride home.
Andersmith led them into a cramped office that was barely big enough to accommodate all three of them. The tiny room had a desk and a door to another room, but not much else. He motioned for them to sit and slid a sheet of paper across the table.
"You know the drill, Jasper," he said dryly. "Sign at the bottom of the page while I get your stuff." He disappeared through the door. Emerging a few moments later with a backpack in one hand and a roll of red cloth in the other. Setting the items on the table, he let out a puff of air. "Welp, it's all there," Andersmith stated. "You get everything signed?"
Jasper nodded.
"Right," the officer returned his gesture. "You're free to go. As much as I know it won't do any good, try to stay out of trouble, kid. If not for yourself, then do it for her." He motioned toward Yang.
The blonde war hero crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged. "I honestly could care less about all of this. Me and Church talked it over, next time he gets locked up, he can rot in that cell as far as I'm concerned."
"So I've heard," Jasper said without looking up from his bag. Though Andersmith had told him nothing had been removed, he wanted to make sure. As he dug through the pack, he found his newly-bought chocolate-chip cookies (still unopened, thank God.), a carton of milk, now spoiled, and a pint of strawberry ice cream which had unfortunately melted.
Before he had been arrested, Jasper was merely out shopping for some late-night comfort foods. As he was exiting the supermarket, something had caught his eye in the parking lot. The other man from the holding cell was struggling with an older woman, trying to steal her purse. Seeing that no one else was helping and having nothing better to do, he decided to intervene. He did so by simply walking up and punching the mugger as hard as he could in the mouth. Now, having been trained by Yang Xiao Long, Jasper had a killer left hook, but the other man apparently didn't get the memo and refused to be beaten. On the upside, he lost all interest in the old lady's handbag and turned his attention to Jasper. On the downside, their brawl drew the eyes a passing police cruiser. Needless to say, neither of them looked all that innocent to the officers.
It had recently become something of a habit for Jasper to pull such stunts. Not a week went by that he didn't get locked up for dispensing his own brand of vigilante justice.
"I'm serious, kid," Yang continued. "The next time you get in here, you're getting yourself out. I'm done protecting you."
"Look, this is really none of my business," Andersmith interrupted. "And I can't help but feel like you two might want to have this talk in private. So, I'm just gonna go." Yang thanked the officer as he locked up the door to the Suspect Belongings Room and exited through the way they came in. "I'm sure you can show yourselves out. Take care."
When she could no longer hear his footsteps, Yang turned to Jasper and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Kid, how long until you straighten up and get your life right?"
The silver-eyed cyclops's smug attitude faded almost instantly. "What do you mean? My life's just fine."
"Really? You're working security at a nightclub, illegally might I add, living in a rathole of an apartment, and you get your kicks by going around and beating the crap out of street thugs. That's what you consider to be 'just fine?'"
He looked up from his bag and met her gaze. "So I'm in a bit of a rough patch. What can I do?"
"I don't know, Jasper," she shook her head. "But I'm worried about you. Between getting kicked out of Beacon and all of your nights spent in this place, how could I not be?" She paused, considering her next words carefully. "Do you honestly think that this is the kind of life your parents would've wanted for you? What do you think they'd say if they saw you like this?"
Jasper winced. His parents were a sensitive subject. Their deaths six years ago had hit everyone they knew pretty hard.
"I know you don't like to talk about them. Hell, neither do I," Yang said. "But Jaune and Ruby wanted you to be happy. And I know for a fact that you're not happy. If you were, you wouldn't be using Vale's underbelly as punching bags."
"What's your point? Other than to depress me?"
She stood up, running a hand through her hair. "My point is that you need to find something that makes you happy, whether it's here in Vale or out in the great wide world. Because I'm not gonna be here to help you for a while."
He raised an eyebrow. "You're leaving?"
"Yep. Takin' a trip to Atlas, visit Weiss for a bit." She mimicked his brow movement, but in a smug way. "I was considering inviting you to come with, but since you're content to stay here where things are 'just fine,' I thought better of it."
"Yeah, a week at the Ice Queen's mansion, attending fancy parties and galas doesn't really sound like my kind of vacation. I'll pass," Jasper joked. He acted indifferent about the chance to see his mother's best friend. But in reality, it was really just her lifestyle that deterred him. The kind of image that the CEO of the Schnee Dust Company promoted had never been his cup of tea.
"Oh, this isn't a vacation, kid," she explained. "Somebody attacked Weiss, and she thinks they're gonna try again. I'm going up there to help her out."
Jasper was shocked. "Who'd be dumb enough to attack Weiss Schnee? She's like...the most untouchable person in the world."
Yang nodded in agreement. It was true, Weiss had more security than General Ironwood in his day. And was even more paranoid. "Apparently someone with a lot of balls and a lot of skill to back it up."
"Well then, why were you gonna ask me to go with you? I'm no huntsman. I'm not even a student anymore."
The blonde took a deep breath, and her expression became cold and serious. "Because I thought you'd be interested in the fact that the assassins sounded very similar to the ones that murdered Ruby and Jaune."
Jasper's head snapped toward her with inhuman speed. "What? You're sure?"
She nodded somberly. "Yeah. Their methods were almost identical," she said. "They attacked when her guard was down. Set fire to a press conference while she was giving a speech and blew past all of her security in the chaos."
He shuddered as memories of that fateful night flooded back to him. The family home set ablaze, gunfire thundering throughout the woods, and the sheer dread he felt as he watched his parents' lives end. Back then, he was only thirteen years old; too young to actually help in a real fight, no matter what sort of training they had given him. Now, he was older, stronger, and hungry for revenge.
"Weiss is one of my oldest friends. I'm going to Atlas," she stated. "If you want a chance at these guys, you're welcome to join me. Unless you'd rather stay here and keep terrorizing Vale's street thugs."
"I'll do it," he said hastily.
Yang sighed. "Good," she chuckled. "Cause I already bought your plane ticket."
Jasper fell silent. A shot at avenging his parents? He'd be crazy not to take it. He stood up from his chair, picking up the other, far more important item that Andersmith had retrieved for him. His mother's red cloak. Now faded and tattered, the hooded cape was the only material thing he possessed that belonged to her.
As he donned the worn garment, Yang nodded in approval. "Alrighty then. Let's get outta here. I'll give you a lift home. You can pack for the trip. Only bring the essentials: your weapons, toothbrush, scroll, that kind of thing," she explained as they exited the office and began making their way out of the precinct. When Jasper inquired about a change of clothes, she laughed. "No. Only the clothes on your back. Trust me, back in the day, we'd be wearing the same outfits for weeks at a time. It was disgusting but necessary."
"Oookay..." he replied nervously. "Anything else?"
"Nothing that can't wait," she concluded.
On the ride back to Jasper's apartment, they didn't do much talking. Mostly due to the fact that they were on Yang's motorcycle, Stinger. Carrying on a conversation would not only have been difficult, but downright dangerous. Yang was an adrenaline junkie, but that didn't mean she was partial to a head-on collision at eighty miles an hour. The bike tore through the city streets. To Jasper, it would have been a lot of fun, had he not been crammed into the sidecar.
Jasper lived in the downtown "Cauldron," as it was referred to by the citizens of Vale. It was where all of the city's bums, junkies, and lowlifes congregated in one big melting pot of filth and poverty.
When they finally reached his apartment building, it was close to midnight. All of the outdoor lights on the structure were out. Jasper stumbled out of the tiny, metal container and clambered to his feet.
"Well, thanks for the ride," he grunted.
"Don't mention it," came Yang's reply through the dark. "Meet me at the airport at five sharp. We'll be taking a Hunter Class flight directly to Atlas. That means we can bring our weapons on the plane without having to go through all the paperwork. I'll explain the rest of what I know then."
He nodded, even though he knew that she couldn't see him. "Right. Good night, Aunt Yang."
"Night, kid." And with that, she was gone. Speeding out of the parking lot, tires screeching and engine roaring all the way.
Jasper turned on his scroll to use as a makeshift flashlight. With it, he found his way to his room. The complex was actually more of a motel, all of the dwellings were single-room apartments with little more than a sink, toilet, and stove. Laundry and shower facilities were in a community area on the ground floor. Needless to say, it wasn't the nicest or friendliest place to live. Not a night went by that he didn't hear yelling, puking, or wildly loud fornicating coming from somewhere nearby.
As he entered the pit he called home, Jasper noticed a sickeningly sweet and sour odor emanating from his bag.
"Dammit!" he hissed.
He'd forgotten all about the ice cream, milk, and cookies that he had with him. The stench only grew in intensity as he focused on it. He got to the point where, in order to free himself of it, Jasper simply opened the door and tossed it out over the railing into the night. So what if it was rude? He'd get it in the morning...probably.
He leaned back against the door and slid down to the floor as it was pushed shut, flipping a light switch on the way down. With a sigh, he gazed at his meager abode. It was little more than a large closet, barely eight feet by eight feet. At the base of the back wall, sat an old mattress covered in blankets. Nearby, there was a minifridge that stored his perishable foods for each week. The small, metal box also served as a shelf, on which he kept his scroll charger and various knick-knacks.
In place of a window or any other sort of wall decor, there hung a sink that he made doubly sure to keep clean along with a mirror. Beside it, there was a small closet which contained a toilet. And finally, directly next to the entrance, was a single-eye electric stove, used to cook all of his meals.
All in all, the place was a dump, but it was home. And Jasper would much rather have been here as opposed to sharing a house with Yang. There was something freeing about providing for himself and living under his own roof.
However, a turd is still a turd, no matter how much you polish it. And despite all of the of the freedom he felt, he wanted something more. Maybe he would find what truly made him happy out in the world, as Yang said, on this mission to Atlas.
"One thing's for sure," he told himself. "I am not gonna miss this place."
The thought of leaving Vale was more than a little intimidating. The farthest he'd ever been out of the Kingdom were his yearly visits to his parents' graves on Patch. But even that was just a few hundred miles. Tomorrow, he would be getting on a plane and flying thousands of miles away, to a different continent. It was a lot to think about.
"But, that's future Jasper's problem," he said cheerily, knowing full well that he would be future Jasper in a few hours.
With that, he decided to start packing for the trip. Picking up an old duffle bag, he walked over to a chest, which contained all of his clothing. He remembered what Yang had told him. "Only the clothes on your back." As such, he stuck with the outfit he was currently wearing. However, he did stuff a warmer shirt and a few extra pairs of boxers in his travel bag. He wasn't an animal, after all. Next came the other essentials. His toothbrush, a spare blanket, and his weapon maintenance gear.
Finally, Jasper lifted up the mattress. Underneath, he pulled a couple of loose floorboards up. From within the hidden stash, he produced two items: one long and pole-like, and the other, the same length of his forearm but a little wider.
First, he examined the larger of the two. It was his main means of offense, Blutrache, a katana-style sword. Fully unsheathing it, he inspected the ruby colored blade for any imperfections. Finding none, he pressed a small switch on the hilt, which caused another, much shorter blade to extend from the pommel. Jasper had designed it so that this second edge could be detached and used to dual-wield. Satisfied with the weapon, he slid it back into its sheath and placed it on his bag.
He then turned his attention to Blutrache's companion, Valorschutz. An uncommon tool by huntsman standards, Valorschutz was a shield that he strapped to his left forearm and used for parrying blows. By no means could it stop a full-on assault, but it was useful for redirecting hits and creating openings. And, much like his sword, Jasper had also included a fun surprise into the buckler. On its underside, he had attached a high-caliber pistol, which, admittedly lacked in range but more than made up for it in stopping power.
When used effectively in combat, the pair were a force to be reckoned with.
"Well, my babies," he whispered almost lovingly to the instruments of death. "You might actually see some action soon. How 'bout that?"
Over the next hour or so, Jasper gathered and sorted the rest of his gear for the trip. After a while, he tried to lie down and get some sleep, only to be roused by his scroll's alarm twenty minutes later. As he headed out the door, he took one last look at the apartment. He thought to himself about how much the concept of going on this revenge quest scared him. And of the fact that no matter what, he wasn't going to come back the same, if he came back at all. However, the fear soon faded and was replaced by excitement and a sense of adventure. This was a good thing, he finally decided.
The next thing Jasper knew, he was taking his seat on the plane with Yang beside him. Their passage through customs was all a blur, most likely a result of sleep deprivation. Although, hunters did get special treatment on most airlines. He and Yang had been allowed to keep their weapons on the plane, didn't need to have their bags searched, and were the first passengers on board.
As he settled in, Yang turned to him. "Nervous? Excited? Wishing you had stayed in bed? Which is it?"
"I think all of the above," he chuckled somewhat groggily.
"Good. That's how I know you're a person and not some alien robot from the future that's come to steal my brain."
It was her corny sense of humor that had always helped to put Jasper at ease as a child. And now it seemed to be helping yet again.
"Wow," he replied. "I don't think I've ever heard someone successfully reference every sci-fi movie in existence, but you just did it. Impressive."
They bantered on for a few more minutes until they heard the pilot's voice come crackling over the intercom.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. This is your captain speaking. We are beginning take-off on our nonstop flight to Atlas," his tone was quite chipper and whimsical, a frame of mind that Jasper felt a pilot should not have. "Folks, just sit back, enjoy the ride, and we thank you for choosing Achieve Airlines."
The aircraft rumbled as it began taxiing toward the runway. Making Jasper grip his armrest like a vice. Unfortunately, he had inherited his father's motion sickness and fear of heights. A fact that he was none too pleased about at the moment.
Seeing this, Yang laughed, earning her a glare from her nephew. "I'm sorry, but I can't help it," she giggled. "Your dad was the same way when I first met him. I can't believe it, I'm sitting next to Vomit Boy Jr.!"
The new nickname infuriated him. But, he was afraid to speak, as he might have puked if he did.
When they were in the air, the sensation passed for the most part. He still felt a little queasy, but he wasn't sick to his stomach. In an attempt to calm himself, he let his mind wander, drowning out his aunt's chuckles.
The tactic proved quite effective, Jasper felt his muscles unwind and his anxiety lessen. Although, he couldn't help but feel like he'd forgotten something.
"Oh, crap!" he exclaimed suddenly.
He'd left the rotten milk and ice cream in the parking lot.
A/N: So, what do ya think? A lot of liberties will be taken in future chapters in regards to "past" events, or things that haven't happened in RWBY yet.
If I didn't make it clear enough, Jasper is the son of the late Ruby and Jaune. And if anybody's wondering, this story takes place twenty-four years in the future.
I hope you enjoyed. Leave a review, it helps me understand what people want from my stories. Thanks.
P.S. I plan on releasing chapters for this fic every other week.