Oh wait, before that, I have a question for you guys to think about until the end of the story. "Who's the villain in all of this?" By the end of the story, the answer I hope's going to change at least 3 times.
Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY. But if it's offered to me, I don't see why I shouldn't have the role. That's sarcasm- I should be the voice actor for Jaune. Duh.
Chapter 2: Out of the Woods
In the middle of a wintery forest, somewhere in Western Atlas, Farayan was laying in the middle of the snowy clearing, eyes shut tight as his even breathing created a mist with each exhale. Eventually, Farayan was brought back to the world of the living as he groaned, his head pounding as if someone was banging a gong in the center of his brain. He writhed around in pain, clutching his skull while groaning for a few minutes as the pain slowly subsided.
When the pounding went away, his memories came back from the past day or so. And that was twice as disturbing and agonizing as his headache. Farayan scrambled to his feet, turning 'round and 'round as his eyes darted around the circle of trees with fear swimming in his eyes. "How am I alive?" Farayan questioned aloud. His ears were perked as Farayan tried to listen over the soft whistling wind for anything.
Nothing. Farayan couldn't hear anything besides an occasional whistling as the wind passed through the trees. With a sigh of relief, he started examining himself for anything out of place. Then, Farayan's eyes laid on his arm. The same one that the Grimm from the lab turned into a chew toy. With a look of amazement, Farayan held his arm up in the sunlight shining from the star high overhead, rotating it over and over again in disbelief. "What the hell?" Farayan muttered as he kept examining his limb. He noticed a slight discoloration on his bicep, the skin a couple shades too pale for it to be natural, in the same spot where the Grimm had bitten down.
"Is this what they did to me?" Farayan wondered. He was torn between utter amazement and horror as he prodded the flesh experimentally. "What did they do to me?" he pondered. Only then did he realize where he was. Rather, he realized what should've been happening to him. With his jaw slack as his brain imploded from craziness, Farayan scooped up a handful of snow and let it run through his fingers. Nothing. "So cold doesn't affect me," Farayan mused, picking up another handful of snow experimentally. "I can apparently regrow a limb from scratch or something as well. Sure, that's not the craziest thing yet." He could only feel the wetness of the snow, not the chill in his fingers, or feet that should've been turning blue, or even his entire body which was covered by the lab's flimsy shirt and pants. Farayan could barely even call it a shirt since the entire right side had been mangled as if he decided to fight a bear with his fists (which wasn't too far from the truth).
Farayan's breaths quickened and shallowed, and his chest heaved rapidly as his brain tried to process… whatever was happening to him. A low howling from far away snapped Farayan out of his trance. Looking around in with a pounding heart, his head spun and twirled to try and find any sense of where he was. Better yet, he needed to know how to get back to a city or town or anything away from this place. As he continued to peer through the dense forest, however, a horrible but intoxicating stench waved in from his right.
Farayan wrinkled his nose, disgusted, but walked towards it nonetheless. Anything that unnatural and disgusting had to be man-made, Farayan thought. As he jogged through the thick foliage, his mind lingered onto things he never wanted to go to.
"You're out of that place. Good for you- now what?"
"Shut up," Farayan snapped at himself, "Anywhere's better than there."
"You sure about that?" the voice nagged, "I mean, you were safer with Dr. Treuse."
"The one that lied to us?" Farayan shot back with a scowl, "Yeah, like I'd go back now. Anyway, now that I'm out-."
"Where will you go?" the voice had to question, "Once you get back to wherever we're going, then what?"
"I'll just-," Farayan started and stopped, freezing in his tracks as he contemplated.
"Where?" the seemingly logical side of his brain asked, "You're not going back home, even if we can call it that."
"I'll start a new life then," Farayan claimed as he resumed trudging through the snowy forest, following the stench before him.
"Like that's happening. How are you going to be around people without knowing what you can do?"
"Do you ever shut up?" Farayan snapped with a scowl.
"Sorry, but I'm a part of you," the voice denied, "And what if those people try and hunt you down again? You can't stay in… we're still in Atlas, right?"
"Then… we- I'll move," Farayan thought as he pushed away a snow-covered branch away from his face.
"Without a ticket, passport, money, or even an identity," the voice sassed.
"Sneak onto a Bullhead," Farayan answered.
"That's your best plan- sneak onto an Atlas Bullhead and then… hope for the best?"
"Look, you have a better idea?" Farayan snapped at the wind. Realizing his mistake, Farayan shook his head in annoyance. "Great, I'm going insane now," he muttered as he trudged on.
-xXxX-Line Break-XxXx-
In Vale, Team RWBY's day was just getting started with Weiss trying to stretch awake. As she did, though, she remembered with a jolt about what Ruby did to get her up last time. "I'm up," she exclaimed, scrambling out of bed. "I'm up!"
Next to her, Ruby lowered her whistle, slightly disappointed. "Fine," she conceded while hopping off Weiss's bunk. She made her way back to her chuckling friends that were standing near the door.
"Imbecile," Weiss muttered under her breath and pushed herself up. She untangled a few hairs with a hand running through them. "There are things called schedules," she muttered, too low for Ruby to hear.
"And there are things called 'early risers'," Blake countered.
The white-haired girl looked at Blake in astonishment. "How did you…?" she started.
"Gifts," Blake quipped as she turned around, heading out the door. Yang followed soon behind, a sly grin on her face.
Weiss rolled her eyes as she rummaged around in their closet before she was made aware of another presence. "Ruby," she called out.
"Yep?" Ruby replied.
"What are you still doing here?" Weiss asked, continuing her search.
Ruby went into the bathroom, shouting to the other room, "I'm your partner- we stick together." Then, as a side note, she added in embarrassment, "Also, I forgot to brush my teeth."
Weiss let out a groan of frustration as she threw on one of her uniforms. "How are you this unorganized?" she exclaimed.
"There's a reason I get up early," Ruby yelled through her mouthful of toothpaste. She came out of the bathroom with her Scroll in hand, her eyes fixated on the news broadcast flashing onscreen.
"In other news, a research lab in Atlas was attacked late last night," the reporter said, "Ten scientists have lost their lives while another three were injured. Thankfully, the Atlesian military was there to minimize damages before it got out of hand."
Weiss looked up from putting on her jacket and made her way over to Ruby's side, peering over Ruby's shoulder at the newsfeed. "None of their experiments were tampered with, though," the woman continued as a picture of a lab appeared onscreen. Part of the side had a massive hole in it while a dozen robotic soldiers lined the perimeter. "While many have speculated about a possible attack by malevolent sources, the government officials and witnesses have assured us that the attack was done by rogue Grimm. Nonetheless, the damages have been severe enough as-."
Ruby turned off her Scroll as she finished brushing. Weiss snapped out of fixation with a shake of her head as she straightened out her jacket. "That's gonna go well with breakfast," Ruby joked as she rinsed out her mouth.
Weiss let out a huff before turning back to head out. "Right," she drawled, closing the door behind her.
-xXxX-Line Break-XxXx-
Farayan finally got out of the forest- in one piece, no less. He broke through the last of the trees with a sigh of relief. With a deep breath, Farayan tried to savor the moment before the wave of nausea hit him. The stench from the city was almost unbearable from the clean air from the forest. Even the lab wasn't this bad, with its overpowering scent of bleach and cleaning supplies.
Farayan choked back his stomach's contents as he pushed himself forward, pinching his nose as he walked towards the city. He tried his best to brush off the snow and grime off his clothes while making his way, looking over his shoulder every few seconds like something was going to pop out of the forest at any moment. He didn't know why, but it felt like there was a second presence there, watching him.
"Or that could just be my paranoia," Farayan thought grimly. Before he knew it, his bare feet touched asphalt, and he looked up at the dozens of buildings surrounding him. Everything felt… foreign, even for an Atlesian city. Usually, most were just regular copies of the same layout- large skyscrapers and CCT Towers along with small businesses dotting the land while most of the homes were either at the tops of penthouses or on the outskirts of the city. But this one was different. There were too many skyscrapers, too many new buildings popping up with too many names that were unfamiliar to Farayan. "Schnee Dust?" Farayan wondered as he stared at the towering building next to him, "Wasn't that a small company a few years back?"
Finally, Farayan decided to try and ask for some help. "Excuse me," Farayan called out to a random pedestrian. The woman had white hair in a formal wear- military or student, he didn't know (but frankly, they were essentially the same thing in Atlas). "Which city is this?" he asked, "My family and I are traveling through, and I-."
The woman cut off Farayan's rambling with a roll of her eyes. "You're in Atlas Academy," she cut in, "Dust, have you not learned anything about Atlas?"
Farayan chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Sorry, barely remember anything from school," he apologized, "Do you know how to get to Alsuis?"
The woman narrowed her eyes at the boy. "Where?" she asked.
"Alsuis," Farayan repeated.
"You mean Mantle?" she clarified with an amused expression, "No one's used that name in years."
Shocked, Farayan took a deep breath before replying, "Yeah, sorry. Where's Mantle?"
This time, the woman's amused expression turned into one of confusion with a hint of interest. "A couple of miles south of here," she answered, pointing in the direction, "Why are you going there, anyway? There's nothing there but slums." The woman then did a double-take at Farayan's choice of clothes. "And how are you not freezing?" she exclaimed.
Farayan stepped back, unconsciously looking down at his clothes. He shrugged. "I don't really feel the cold," he guessed.
The white-haired girl raised an eyebrow at him. "Alright," she drawled, "Well, best of luck to you," with a small knowing smirk, she added, "and your family." She gave Farayan a curt nod before walking away, hands clasped behind her back.
A bit jumpy, Farayan called out a quick "Thanks!" before turning around himself, eyes darting around the unfamiliar setting. With a quick glance over his shoulder, Farayan started down the street again, his mind spinning around and around while more people started to stare at the teen.
Instinctively, he ducked into a nearby alley, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. Farayan tried to shake off the feeling of being watched as he pulled on the hem of his ruined shirt, looking at the discarded bags in the alley. "I'm gonna have to change this," he muttered to himself, "Can't look like I just escaped from a mental institution." Thank god for wasteful shop owners, since he could almost find an entire, usable set of clothes from their so-called "waste". In no time at all, he was able to get out of his ragged shirt and into a decent ice-blue hoodie that was a size too large and a pair of black pants, along with a pair of bright blue hiking shoes. Looking down at his feet, he had to admit with a small chuckle, there was a reason they were thrown in the garbage.
Farayan stepped out of the alley, examining his new clothes in interest. While he rummaged through one of the pockets, though, his eye caught a pair of Atlesian police officers- no, one was human while the other was a robot- staring back at him. Farayan tried to tear his gaze away. Too late, though, as the pair strode across the block. His breathing intensified, silently pleading for himself to look like anyone else, as one of their hands was placed on his shoulder from behind. Farayan jumped out of his skin, whirling around with panicked eyes.
Up close, he realized it wasn't a police officer, it was one of the soldiers. If he had to guess, Farayan thought it was one of those Specialists from the way he carried himself and the intensity of the blue eyes. The specialist opened his mouth to say something, but it halted just as quickly as it opened. Now confused, the man pulled out a Scroll from his pocket, staring at the screen as his eyebrows knit together tighter. "Excuse me," the specialist started before he thrust the Scroll into Farayan's face, "Do you know this boy?"
Farayan looked down as his breath halted. It was an image of himself but a bit younger. Maybe the image the lab took of him three years ago. "N-no," Farayan stammered.
The robot next to the specialist beeped as it announced, "Elevated heart rate and dilated pupils."
With a small unconvinced look, the specialist turned back to Farayan. "The thing says you have the signs that you're lying," he accused.
Farayan stared at the machine, trying to put a flabbergasted look on his face. "I'm being stopped on the sidewalk by a stranger from the military," he rushed out, "You try not to be scared."
The man rolled his eyes as he walked away. "Come on," he told the bot, "Looks like I got the wrong person."
Farayan stared as the two figures retreated down the block before turning the corner. As they were out of sight, Farayan had to literally stop himself from sighing in relief, turning around as casually as possible with a scratch on the head. His act of being a clueless teen apparently worked since a full minute went by without the specialist showing up again.
But as the adrenaline receded from his veins, confusion replaced it as he thought back to the specialist's confusion. "How did he not recognize me?" Farayan thought, passing by a window displaying all sorts of Dust crystals. Glancing over, Farayan did a double take as he backed up, staring at the glass with a look of astonishment. Not because of the items, but because of his reflection. His cheeks were fuller, almost chubby-like, and his eyes were now a startling red. "Oh," Farayan realized, "That's why." He palmed his mouth, pretending to be deep in thought as he examined his new face. "More powers," Farayan mused with another prod to his face. "What else did that thing give me?"
With extreme effort, Farayan tore his gaze away from the display and kept walking down the sidewalk, looking around for somewhere that could help him without batting a suspicious eye. Like a tourist shop. Despite the situation, Farayan laughed at the idea. Imagining Atlas housing something as trivial or dumb as a tourist stop was too much for him.
That's when the airships flew overhead, drowning out anything Farayan was thinking of. He winced as his eardrums seemed to rupture, listening to the dozen or so ships fly by. Once the noise dropped as the Bullheads went away, Farayan glared after them angrily, peeling his hands away from his ears. Mumbling under his breath, he started to walk away before sudden realization hit him. Farayan glanced over his shoulder at the direction the airships traveled to, hope finally creeping into his eyes. With just a moment of thought, Farayan spun on his heel and headed for wherever the Bullheads were.
Along the way, Farayan had to pinch his nose again, wincing from the horrible smell that still lingered. But, as he looked around, no one else seemed to have the same reaction while they passed him by. It was that same smell he sensed from outside the city- the intoxicating and toxic one. With narrowed eyes, Farayan unplugged his nose, glancing around him for the source. With another sniff, the scent directed him to the person next to him. Farayan looked at the woman in surprise since she wasn't exactly someone he'd think could make that stench: school uniform, regal-like pose, and an overall cleanliness to her. Nothing about her screamed, "I smell like a rotten carton of milk with dead maggots and just a hint of dog food."
Another sniff took Farayan in a different direction: a shopkeeper that was straightening the sign above his door. Another one made him whip his head around to stare at a group of boys horsing around the sidewalk. Farayan took another sniff, his eyes watering, as it directed him to another person. The confusion started to set in as he tried to place his finger on whatever the smell could be. It couldn't be anything anyone could smell since, from the lack of reactions from the others, no one else could sense it. So, it had to be something the Grimm side of him could probably smell. With a flash of horror, Farayan remembered a line from the textbooks back in the lab.
"The Grimm have hunted Humanity for as long as recorded history. These creatures have been observed to only hunt Humans and Faunus and not any other animal. Speculation has questioned if this for the Grimm's diet that can potentially be Aura or if because humans have always been the easiest for these creatures to track down. Their senses do not naturally align with our own and instead can sense negative emotions which are why Grimm naturally flock to recent disasters."
Realization gripped Farayan as he tripped over his own feet, stumbling to catch himself at the last moment. He took a deep sigh of grim acceptance before recoiling back from the stench again. "I'm going to have to live with this," he muttered to himself, flipping his hood over his head.
Before he knew it, Farayan found himself at the other edge of town with the airfields in sight. His jaw dropped at the amount of people and supplies being loaded onto the dozen or so Bullheads. It looked like half the population of Atlas and enough weapons for every Hunter and Huntress- retired, active, or in training- was being packed into a couple of small Bullheads. Sneaking on was going to be a lot harder now.
But still, somehow, either because of another skill he acquired from the Grimm or because the workers weren't attentive, Farayan managed to hop into the airship closest to him without being spotted. There were dozens of close calls, sure, but being stuck in a lab for 3 straight years can make a person extremely patient. Farayan found himself a secluded corner in the back behind a crate containing a trumpet and a pair of nunchucks and huddled there, waiting with a heavy set of lungs as boxes were stacked farther and farther away from him as the space became packed. What seemed like an eternity later, Farayan heard some mechanisms hiss to life while the cargo doors started to close. Only when they were completely shut and darkness enveloped the area did Farayan let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.
He slumped against the side of the Bullhead, the events of today finally catching up to him. Just as he started to relax, that small voice had to pop back up at the worst time. "Congratulations," it said sarcastically, "You're out of Atlas. Now, where exactly are we going?"
"Shut up," Farayan half grumbled, half moaned as he turned onto his side, too tired to fight since he promptly fell asleep.
AN: And there's the end! Welcome back to the Fire Ramblings. I should start with the reviews first.
Cindermane: Hey, hey, hey! You don't criticize me for Dr. Treuse! It's hard to find fitting color names to characters. Anyway, yeah. I can see why you'd say it's like a manticore and sphinx. I was actually imagining the body structure like the Horseman Grimm in Volume 4 with a bunch of characteristics from other Grimm.
ThatGreenDooredBookshop: Wow, two loyal readers already. I'm either really good at what I do, or I am amazing at making stuff up on the fly. I'll try and post twice a month, but it might get hairy for next month. I'm gonna be off at a writer's workshop, so that means working on stories that aren't this. Anyway, Deltas are basically 3rd in command on how a story is supposed to go. There's the writer, Moi, Betas, currently not here, and Deltas. The faithful readers that writers have to listen to so they don't do something completely stupid like, I don't know, kill off the most lovable character mid-story. I'm talking to you, Gurren Lagann.
AHBooklover7: Huh, a new face. The blue food, yep. PJO will always have an influence. Well, cliffhanger resolved. We should all be done now.
By the way, I've already introduced you to a character that's going to die by the end of the story. No hints coming directly from my bolded words, only the story. So start searching the chapters I put out!
Anyway, signing off, Flames of Fire.