Greetings everyone! Been a while since I've written anything. With this story, it's important to have already watched RWBY (duh). I hope you enjoy this crazy chapter as I attempt to get some introductions out of the way. When we get to our 6 years later bit is approximately 2 years before the events of the first episode of RWBY. Enjoy!
Cobalt fell to the cold hard earth, trembling from a combination of exhaustion and pain. Blood ran down the 10 year olds arms, which was holding his fathers right arm aloft. The giant maw of the Grimm Goliath was open above, his fathers forearm sword plunged up and into the skull. Warm dying breaths washed over him before it finally fell to the side. Normally Cobalt would have whooped in joy, but there was no joy in this kill.
Dad was dead, speared by one of the great tusks of this Goliath. They had been tracking this lost one, trying to find out where the herd was, when Cobalt had stepped on a snapping twig loud enough to draw its wrath. He had gotten his father killed.
Cobalt felt empty inside, quaking with fear and sadness. Nothing mattered now. Cobalt let the tears stream from his eyes, blood and tears mixing on his face and clothes. The world was quiet, like it was joining the child in mourning. He moved to hold his father, cradling his head against his chest. Tears dripped to the older mans face. Normally a man ranging from kind smiles to stern glances of determination, it seemed too relaxed. Too pale.
"I'm so sorry," the boy finally choked out. The words seemed hollow. For a long time he didn't move, trapped by his own despair. "I am so freaking sorry." Cobalt under normal circumstances would have noticed that his body seemed to glow in the dim light of the afternoon in the wilderness. With the current situation having unfolded the way it did, he didn't even notice his own wounds healing. Eventually he pulled his fathers arm, pulling the giant sword out of the Grimms mouth. The tip fell on the ground with a clang.
About 4 feet in length, the giant double sided sword stretched out as a long reach melee weapon. The gauntlet it attached to acted as a bracer, protecting his forearm. It was a brilliant yellow gold in color, like it was an item of great honor to wield. Cobalt felt horrible pulling it off his fathers arm and attaching it to his. It took great effort just to get it to fit his arm without falling off, his days arms were tree trunks to his little arms. With a little work, the boy got the sword to collapse into its bracer/sheath mode. Sadly, it was just as heavy even though it was smaller in appearance. Taking a dark blue knife from his fathers tool belt, he set to work. When collected quickly and with the right tools, Grimm hide could be collected before it would dissolve into nothing.
His dad had always told him to scavenge what he could at all times. Like a robot, he forced himself to stop looking at his father and begin work on cutting up the Goliaths foreleg. It was hard work, but eventually he had skinned the entire foreleg. It was just in time too, the giant beast was almost done evaporating into nothingness. Grimm hide like this was hard to come by in wilderness markets. Having many uses with it being such a sturdy piece, it could have fetched quite a price on the market. He had no interest in money. Cobalt dragged his father onto the hide, and began to walk back to Vale, tears once again streaming from his eyes as began the long trek back to safety. If he had to stop, it would be a makeshift tent, and then after his father was buried somewhere safe, it would do well as a jacket. Thick and durable, it would protect him from any number of attacks. All he could think of now was the ache in his heart.
6 years later...
Cobalt glanced around the semi lit room, looking for targets. His faded blue eyes darted this way and that, looking for any sign of movement. The black trench coat he wore was looped to his jeans, and the hood at the top was back, leaving his short light brown hair to sway as his head moved side to side. The sleeves covered the steel gray bracers he wore, making him appear unarmed. Black combat boots seemed to not even touch the ground as he slowly glided forward, fingers outstretched from his fingerless gloves.
Suddenly at the end of the room, three Beowolves came into view. Teeth were bared as they spotted him and began to charge. Cobalt ran to them, and activated his weapon. Two black and blocky semi automatic pistols placed themselves in his hand, and he opened fire on the center Beowulf. The bigger rounds were hollow in the front, and larger than some semi automatic calibers, favoring stopping power over penetration. Six shots and the middle one was down with a groan of pain. The other two were now too close at this point to allow him to fire enough bullets to stop both. Activating the blades on both, he stabbed both in the chest as his arms pushed them to the ground. He dropped to a knee to keep them pinned now from the force of the blows.
The blades were attached to his bracers as well, sliding over the top of his wrist, extending out about three feet, and sharpened enough to cut you just by looking at it long enough, it had no problem plunging deep into the Grimms chests. One lived long enough to swipe at him, but the creatures claws couldn't seem to cut the trench coat he wore.
Hearing a commotion behind him, Cobalt turned his head to see three more charging towards him. He withdrew his arms from the downed Grimms and raised his arms up, exposing the majority of the bracers. Slapping them together, the mechanical changes took effect. It came together and lengthened, his right hand dragging back holding the grip of the pistol. The left bracer morphed into a body of a war era rifle, the blades molding into the side of the body. Barrels widened and stretched. A moment later, the war styled battle rifle bared no resemblance to the dual bracer sword gauntlets. The three oversized bullets left the rifle in quick succession, dropping the three evil creatures.
Cobalt's ears were still ringing a little when the woman known as Goodwitch told him his practical entrance exam was complete. He nodded to the woman and holstered the rifle to its magnetic mounts on the back of his coat. The exam was easy. With all the time he had spent in the wilderness, it was more than enough training to get into Beacon. The only reason he was doing this was to further hone his skills, but it still felt like more of a formality than anything.
That night he spent in the common sleeping room of first year students. It felt good to have the jacket and jeans off. He wore a black undershirt with a pair of washed out gray shorts, more for comfort than anything. Cobalt glanced around the room, his mind quietly making note of exits and those who looked like they were ill tempered. His years of training could rest easy for tonight though. Most mingled about, engaging in small talk or recalling adventures already completed. The chatter was loud, as most were talking over others digging about in large bags or trunks. Cobalt had most of his possessions in a faded tan day pack, which was small compared to most of the others. It did the job though; it had everything he would need, and a few extras. As he set about rummaging for his toothbrush, he saw another student crash to the sleeping pad next to him.
"What's up?" He heard the other student say as he plopped to the ground, and dumped the entire contents of his large backpack into his lap. Various items and clothes spilled out in a mess. It looked like the bag wasn't even packed properly, like it had all just been shoved in. Cobalt looked up to get a good look at the newcomer.
His black hair was shaved short, and wore baggy white pjs. It couldn't actually really pass for white. Not with the collection of stains and smears on the pantlegs and front of the shirt. It looked like they had been used to clean up something. Or had be eaten off of. Maybe even both.
"Reginald," the student said, not waiting for Cobalt to respond. The messy one stuck out his hand, which Cobalt noticed it was rather clean. He'd almost expected to see food and grit under his fingernails, but they were neatly trimmed and free of grime. Cobalt accepted the hand, seeing no reason to ignore him.
"Cobalt," he said. The grip of the other student was strong and firm. Probably someone who had spend years in various academies before ending here. Could have a heavy weapon as well. Cobalt locked eyes with him. They were the color of dull bronze, not quite a full hazel. There was an intensity behind them. The shake ended as a quiet little murmur was heard. Reginald seemed to perk up and spun around.
"Sis, what's the matter? Why aren't you in pjs yet? It's almost bedtime," Reginald questioned the girl. She was wearing a bright yellow combat skirt with no lace trimming. Deep brown eyes were soft, a little nervous. Her eyes matched her hair in an almost copy paste fashion. Little mutters and squeaks escaped the girls lips. Cobalt barely heard anything over the din of the common room. All he did make out was "boys" and something about changing into pajamas.
"Go to the girls bathroom then," Reginald said, his voice lowered slightly. She nodded and tore off out of the room. He then turned back to Cobalt.
"That's my little sis, Goldie," he said. "You should really see her in a fight. She's quite good." Cobalt raised an eyebrow. He had seen stranger things. Reginald started talking about his family and excitement for tomorrow, but it fell of partially deaf ears. Sure, Cobalt was excited for tomorrow, and the prospect of a team was encouraging to him, but all he wanted to do now was sleep. After a while, Reginald seemed to pick up on his weariness of the conversation.
"Well, I'm gonna get some shut eye, see you in the morning."
Cobalt nodded and watched as the student just curled up in his messy pile. 'How is that even comfortable?' His toothbrush forgotten, Cobalt moved his bag to the space under his head. The rough bags texture wasn't comfortable, but it was familiar. Before long, his eyes sealed and he drifted away.
Hello again! Hope you enjoyed this small start up chapter! More to come soon!