Hey guys, Techhy here, with a new story! Sorry to the old fans of my other fanfic but that's being put on hiatus or will more likely just be redone later, I kinda lost motivation for that one. Anyways, here's an RWBY fanfic for a new OC of mine, whose name I will not say just yet. Hope you enjoy it, and slap that follow/favorite buttons when you're done if you want to.

This is gonna be good.

"Thoughts/Semblance Cry" "Background Song" "Speech" "? Speech"

Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY, it belongs to RoosterTeeth and the late Monty Oum, may he rest in peace.

Also, the song is 'I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire' by The Ink Spots.

"I've lost all ambition, for worldly acclaim"

A man looked down upon the child before him, and glared into the young purple-hued eyes.

"You must work on your posture! You're becoming too sloppy!" The child with spiky raven hair sighed and stood back up for the umpteenth time, and gave a glare of determination towards his father.

"Now, move your arms like this... Spread your legs a bit more... Angle your right foot...

Now try to block." The boy's father charged at him, and attempted a diagonal slash with his wooden practice sword, only for it to be parried with his son's. The man gave a snort of surprise, and nodded.

"You'll make a fine hunter some day, my son."

"I just want to be the one you love"

The same boy, looking to be about four years older, stands in front of his father, as the man holds out a massive shining sheath of polished black leather, and a crystal handle sticking out of the end.

"I think it is time you take this. It is Immitis Interfectionis, the sword of our family, and our ancestors. Take Merciless Slaughter, for you have earned it, after five years. Those years have paid off well, and I could not be more proud of you."

The pale-skinned teenager took the large sheath, and secured it around his back. He then gripped the pommel of the sword, and slowly slid it out, all four feet, with the ringing sound of leather being rubbed against. As it was pulled out, the young man now wielded a jagged edged, double-bladed cleaver out of an obsidian-looking metal, with a crystal handle and a pommel inlaid with the family crest.

As he looked upon the cracked skull of the family, his father made one last comment-

"You truly are a man now, Lucas."

"And with your admission that you feel the same..."

The same teenager from earlier, seen again a few months later, looking about fifteen years old, was in front of a train station with his father, saying their goodbyes.

"I wish you luck, my son. Just know, whatever you do with your life, I support you. Just do your old man one last favor- go to Beacon. It is there I feel you will be most satisfied, and learn your true purpose."

"I'll have reached the goal I'm dreaming of, believe me."

"So, Mister... Troy, was it? What makes you think I will just let you into my school?", a lanky, grey-haired man questioned.

"Set anybody, any challenge before me. I'll get it done, or die trying," an apathetic voice replied from the shadows of the room, despite it being dawn and bright.

"I like your determination. You know what, I'll give you a shot. A herd of boarbatusk have been attacking people by the Emerald Forest. You kill them and bring me their hides; You're in. If not, don't bother coming back."

"It will be done." And with that, the six-foot man from the dark vanished, just as light was uncovering where he was, revealing boots with spurs, dark black suit pants, and the bottom of a black billowing cape with a cracked skull on it.

About an hour later, Ozpin, as the plate on his desk read, started talking to himself about the young man he was talking to earlier, he heard a scream from outside of office. He dashed outside with his cane, only to find a shocked and red-faced Glynda Goodwtch and a sixteen year old teenager facedown on the floor, with a bundle next to him and a massive hilt of a sword sticking out from under a familiar cape.

"What happened here?!"

CHARACTER SO FAR:

Name: Lucas Troy

Semblance: Unknown

Abilities: Unknown

Family: Father, Unknown

Weapon: Merciless Slaughter/Immitis Interfectionis,