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RWBY belongs to Rooster Teeth

Chapter 1: The Grimm Shifter


Vale was lovely this time of the year. The doors to Beacon would be opening to aspiring new huntsmen and huntresses in a few days and the weather would slowly turn from the heat of the summer sun to the cool breezes of the fall clouds.

It was on one of these cool nights that a rather unremarkable young man walked through the streets of Vale. The people who were still out would give him a wide berth and fearful looks as he passed. He figured it was probably due to his arm, as the shadows of his hood covered his face. It looked larger than it should. He wore a simple pair of black cargo pants with dark green combat boots. A black hooded jacket that had no right sleeve was slung over his left arm. He also wore a t-shirt with text on it that said, 'Your questions don't match my answers.' His right arm was covered in bandages, with his hand being wrapped tighter with long white claws appearing to be taped to his hand.

He was wandering to nowhere in particular. He just felt like getting a bit lost on this night. That was how he ended up at an open dust shop called From Dust till Dawn. He chuckled at the name as he entered the building. An old man sat at the counter and watched as he entered. Near the magazine rack he saw a person in a red hood. Neither of them was deemed a threat, nevertheless his weapons were still in arms reach.

The shopkeeper watched with bated breath as the young man approached the counter. He appeared to be in his late teens, but it was the weapons he carried on his person that held the old shopkeeper's attention. The black hilt of a sword could be seen on his back, while his left hand rested on the holstered grip of a three barreled gun on his left hip. The shopkeeper also noticed a collection of vials stuck in a modified bandolier on his right hip.

"I need five empty dust vials." The young man said placing 50 lien on the counter.

The shopkeeper looked confused but grabbed some empty vials while taking the money. The young man nodded his thanks and moved to browse the aisles of dust.

A group of about ten men are approaching.

'Hostile?'

Yes.

'Good, it's been a while since I got a good workout.'

The bell in the front jingled as the door opened and ten armed men entered the building followed by a man in a white coat and black bowler hat. The young man instantly recognized him as the wanted thief Roman Torchwick. He was smiling at the shopkeeper and talking about how hard it was to find a dust shop open this late. He was waiting for the hostilities. Clearly, he was here to rob the shop. He just had to wait.

"Give me all your money and put your hands where I can see them." One of Torchwick's mooks said aiming his weapon at the young man.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll put the gun down and leave before I break you."

He's not going to put the gun down.

'I know. I just don't want people to say I didn't warn him.'

The sound of glass breaking drew both of their attention as the person in the red hood sent one of the thugs flying through the front window of the store. The young man noticed that the person was a she with a giant scythe. It also appeared she knew how to use it.

He turned back to the thug who was still staring out the window. Shaking his head, he unsheathed his sword and slammed the blade onto the man's wrist. The sound of the man's bones breaking made him wince, but he had other matters to attend to. Two of the other thugs started firing at him. He dove for cover behind the shelves.

Dorian, might I suggest Deathstalker injection, neck? The protection it provides would allow you to tank the bullets.

'No Altdor, I don't want to rely on my ability to tank attacks like that. Besides we still haven't figured out the full limits of Deathstalker protection.'

Fair enough. So, what's your plan?

'If you didn't notice they are still firing, when those clips run out of ammo, they will have to reload. I won't.'

So, electroshock therapy, magnetic pulse cannon, or volatile dust devils?

'Electroshock. We aren't going to kill them.'

Wow, so boring. Anyway, you might want to act fast, they stopped firing.

Dorian drew his gun and dove from cover. He rotated the barrels to one labeled EST and shot at both of the thugs. Two bolts of purple electricity flew from the gun and hit each thug. The electricity surged through their bodies and they dropped to the ground, unconscious.

Dorian nodded at them and ran outside just in time to see the red hooded girl take out three of the thugs. A fourth was running up behind her. Dorian took aim and fired a bolt of electricity at him. Like the last two, electricity surged through him before he dropped to the ground.

"Pathetic. Torchwick, your hired guns are useless." Dorian said as Roman exited the building.

"They were truly worth the money, weren't they?" Roman spat sarcastically. "As much fun as this has been, I'm afraid this is where we part ways."

Roman raised his cane. A small flap opened at the end, and Dorian barely noticed a crosshair on it. He aimed at the girl and fired a round. The girl fired her weapon at the ground and used the recoil to escape the projectile which exploded on impact with the ground.

When she landed, she noticed that Roman was gone. Dorian scowled, the criminal was climbing a building using the fire escape.

'Alright Altdor, fastest ways up?'

Single injection, left arm, Beowolf. That should allow for us to scale that building with relative ease.

"You mind if we go after him?" Dorian heard the girl ask the old shopkeeper.

"If you have a target in sight, you don't need permission to hunt it." Dorian said.

He pulled a vial marked BW out of his bandolier. The glint of metal from a syringe in the cork caught the girl's eye. She looked at it confused as he stabbed it into his left wrist.

"What are you waiting for, go after him!" Dorian yelled at her.

She jumped back, startled at his command, but did as he ordered. Dorian rolled his eyes but walked up to the building. The injection had caused his left hand to change. It now resembled the claw of a Beowolf, complete with bones on the fingers. Dorian stabbed the bone appendages into the brick of the building and started climbing with startling speed. When he reached the top, he vaulted over the lip of the roof and landed on the building.

Roman was standing in a bullhead and had just shot another explosive projectile at the girl. There was no way she was going to dodge in time. Dorian ran at her and tackled her to the side, just narrowly escaping the explosion. When the smoke cleared, a blond huntress with a black tattered cape stood where the projectile hit. Roman called to someone in the bullhead. A woman in a red dress stepped to the open hatch and started using fire-based magic against the Huntress.

The girl Dorian tackled got up, she didn't appear to be injured. She grabbed her weapon and started shooting at the airborne vehicle, but none of her bullets were getting past.

It would seem that the woman on that vehicle is a dust weaver.

'Why do you say that?'

Her clothing lights up every time she uses an attack, it appears to be fire based.

'Good thing we have a weapon that doesn't shoot physical bullets.'

Dorian drew his gun and rotated the barrel to one marked MPC. he aimed at the bullhead, and the gun started humming with magnetic energy. When it was fully charged, he pulled the trigger. A concentrated magnetic field was launched at the bullhead and missed. Despite missing, the magnetic force did pull the bullhead with it. The thieves used that as their escape.

Boy, you need to work on your aim with that thing.

'Haven't I told you not to call me boy?'

"You're a huntress! Can I have your autograph?" the girl in read squealed.

The Huntress glared at them and told them to follow her. They soon found themselves in separate holding rooms at the police station. Their weapons had been confiscated, as had Dorian's bandolier of vials. The authorities had him securely fastened to the table in front of him. The Grimm claw that made up his left hand clearly had them scared.

We could have taken them.

'I would rather not be a fugitive, thank you very much.'

They haven't seen your face yet, so they wouldn't even know who to look for.

'Yes, but they did see my right arm. Thanks for that by the way.'

You realize that you have thanked me for that arm 257 times now, right? If I didn't know any better, then I would think you were actually grateful for that.

"SHUT UP!" Dorian yelled as the door opened.

"That isn't exactly the best way to greet someone." said the man who entered the room. Here was yet another person Dorian recognized. The headmaster of Beacon, Ozpin himself. The only person that Hunter ever held in any regard other than 'pile of dirt'.

"Sorry, the voices in my head don't know when to stop talking." Dorian responded.

"Multiple personalities?" Ozpin asked.

"Sure, let's go with that." Dorian said. "Would you mind telling me why I am here? As far as I know, the girl and I did nothing wrong. Unless it has become against the law to stop a crime in progress if you can clearly help."

"No, you aren't here because of that. Why did you help though?" Ozpin asked.

"Torchwick was robbing that store. One of his thugs pulled a gun on me. I wanted some exercise. Take your pick. Shouldn't you know this?" Dorian responded as he attempted to cross his arms, before realizing that they were still cuffed to the table.

"I don't know anything about you. I have never seen a person of your…" Ozpin trailed off thinking of the right words.

"Monstrous disposition? Demonic influence? Grimm build? Call me what you want. I don't care." Dorian said.

"Interesting build. I have a very reliable informant when it comes to this sort of thing, and he has no idea who you are. So, who are you, and why are there no records of you anywhere?" Ozpin asked.

'How much should we tell him?'

Tell him what he wants to know, but do not tell him anything about me. If he asks about me, deny any knowledge.

'You sure about this?'

Yes.

"There should be no record of me. I have been living off the radar since my parents died. I was taken in by a Huntsman who only ever called himself Hunter. He too met a rather grisly fate. Been on my own since he died two years ago. As for who I am, my name is Dorian Lycan Gintus and you are headmaster Ozpin of Beacon academy." Dorian said after a few seconds of silence.

"Sorry about your family and friend." Ozpin said.

"HA! I would hardly call Hunter a friend. He was a mentor, nothing more. As for my family. Don't be sorry about them. They died, I mourned, life goes on." Dorian leaned back. Then forward as his hands felt the resistance of the cuffs. "Can I get these off? They aren't necessary."

Ozpin nodded, then left to get the key.

'Can we trust him?'

Probably more than other humans. But I still won't trust him though.

'You only trust Provenance.'

And Cyclone, but Ozpin is hiding something. Something big.

'I noticed. You think he knows about you?'

I doubt it, he probably knows about the usurper though.

'That reminds me, we need to meet with Provenance again sometime soon.'

The door to the room opened and Ozpin walked in.

"Here you go." Ozpin said as he unlocked the cuffs.

"Thanks." Dorian said as he rubbed his wrists.

"Mr. Gintus, have you ever considered attending Beacon?" Ozpin asked, surprising Dorian.

"Not really. Why?" Dorian asked.

"You seem like a good candidate for my school. I will need some information first." Ozpin answered.

"If this is an open invitation, I accept." Dorian answered.

Hold on, do I get a say in this?

'No, my body, my choice. You're just along for the ride, remember? Don't worry, I won't hurt the loyal Grimm.'

"Excellent Mr. Gintus. I just need to see your face, know what your semblance is, your aura levels, and more for my own curiosity, why your arm is bandaged." Ozpin said.

Dorian tensed as he stared at Ozpin. This was information he didn't want to give away so freely.

Now you're panicking.

'Shut it, what should I do?'

Only reveal this if he agrees to certain conditions.

'Like what?'

He wants us at his academy.

'What do you mean?'

His demeanor suggests that he wants us there, most likely to exploit us for our abilities. I would be willing to wager your body that he wants us as an ally against his enemies. Ask him for a private place for us to train, we have no partner, confidentiality, and we will not be a tool. How does that sound?

'If he accepts, good enough.'

"I will only do this on five conditions." Dorian spoke.

Five?

'Yes, I want him to call me Dorian. You take over.'

"Conditions? If anyone should be laying down conditions, it should be me Mr. Gintus." Ozpin answered. Ozpin noticed Dorian's countenance change from being on guard to one of a confident authority. His voice also changed slightly when he started speaking again.

"Yes, but you will agree to them. Why, you may ask. Well, I know you want me to go to Beacon. A way to keep an eye on me and guarantee my alliance. I can see it in your demeanor. Am I wrong?" 'Dorian' asked.

Ozpin hesitated before responding "No, you are correct. What are the conditions?"

"One, I would like somewhere private that I can train with my abilities at Beacon. Two, I will not be partnered with anybody. Three, I will not be used as your personal tool, nor will I be anyone else's. Four, this is to remain confidential. If you must share it with the other professors at Beacon, that is fine. And finally, my name is Dorian, I would appreciate it if you called me by it. Is this too much to ask for?" 'Dorian' spoke calmly.

"That is...agreeable. Though, I would have to make you the fifth member of a team rather than your own, we do have limited housing space." Ozpin acquiesced.

Your turn, buddy.

'Thank you.'

Dorian slowly went back to a guarded manner. Ozpin raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"That will be fine." Dorian said. "As for my aura and semblance. My aura is nonexistent, and my semblance I call blood assimilation."

"Explain." Ozpin said.

"First, due to the nature of my semblance, it will not allow for my aura to be protective. So, I do have an aura, it just doesn't exactly do anything. My body accepts the blood of other beings and will assimilate it. This will give me aspects and/or abilities of the organism that the blood comes from. The method I use most is injection. It changes based on one of five different injection methods. For example, a single injection of Beowolf blood in my left arm turns it into a Beowolf arm. Different Grimm bloods do different things. Ingestion, however, turns me into the creature fully. The only way to reverse either is ingestion of human or Faunus blood."

"This is very interesting. What are your different injection methods?"

Humor him for now.

"Single injection left arm, single injection right arm, double injection both arms, injection neck, and injection legs." Dorian listed off. "Each injection method has a different effect. Those are the only methods that ever have any effect."

"I am curious, you still haven't let me see your face or your arm."

Dorian nodded and pulled back his hood. A head of slicked black hair was revealed. His left eye was a deep royal purple. His right eye was hidden by an eyepatch that had a rather unusual crest emblazoned on it. Ozpin noted the crest looked like the skull of a Beowulf rising from the flames of a torch. Ozpin motioned for Dorian to remove the patch, which he did, reluctantly. His right eye was crimson with a black dot in the center. No sclera could be seen. Just crimson and a pupil. Around the eye was a strange crimson crosshair.

While Ozpin inspected his face, Dorian started to remove the bandages on his right arm. When they were gone, Ozpin could clearly see the Grimm like appendage in all its dark glory. The arm had the same general shape of a human but was black and furry. The back of his hand was completely coated in the same white bone armor of the Grimm, with his fingers being nothing but segmented Grimm bone. At his elbow, five bone spines fanned out. Dorian sighed in content when the spines had reached their natural standing position.

"A more permanent reminder of what I am." Dorian said as Ozpin stared at Dorian's arm.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I am a human by birth and a monster by choice." Dorian said as he leaned back.

"Monster by choice? Care to explain that." Ozpin asked while pointing at his arm.

"Indeed, this arm is a permanent side effect of the first time I became a Grimm. A Beowolf to be precise. I learned that day that you should not try to hack a Beowolf into literal nothingness. The blood flew everywhere, including my mouth. I was frustrated that day. So, I was screaming in frustration as I cut it down to size. Needless to say, I swallowed some of the creature's blood, and next thing I know, I am on all fours with no control over my body. My...Grimm side had taken over It took a bit of doing, but I was able to regain control. Since then I have made peace with the other side of my psyche. As for me being a monster by choice, I have had many opportunities to have this arm fixed or removed. I have rejected them all." Dorian explained. "Are you sure you still want me at your school?"

Ozpin smiled. "Yes Dorian, I am. A bullhead leaves for Beacon in three days, please don't be late."

"Will do. Have a good night, Ozpin." Dorian stood up, shook Ozpin's hand and left to get his belongings.

"This will be a very interesting year." Ozpin said to himself. "Now, to inform the professors at Beacon."


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