Black Trailer
RWBY Belongs to Monty Oum and Roosterteeth.
{Insert Back in Black by AC/DC}
It was dark in the city capital of Vale, there were very few lights on in the city. There were also few businesses open at this time of the night, though, most of the ones that were open were mostly bars and late night diners. Though, one such establishment was about to get wrecked. Severely.
In a bar called Drunks and Dust, few people were active. Some of its inhabitants practicing their darts, some passed out at the bar due to being drunk, and others just watching the late night news on the little TV that was set up from the ceiling.
"And in other news, the night club owned by bar owner Junior was recently destroyed by a new student of Beacon Academy. Average height, blonde hair, purple eyes, and…"
Suddenly, the doors were kicked open, revealing a man and his gang. This caught the attention of everyone present, though no one made an attempt at escaping for fear of injury or worse.
Slowly, the man and his men walked over to a table where a rather young and big boned man who looked like a highschool version of the famous actor Black Jackie sat, stuffing his face with his food, while watching Huntertube videos about trolling on his scroll. He wore khakis, a black t-shirt with a black and white checkered flannel over it. "Hey Skye! We've come to collect our money! You better have it kid!" The gang leader called the boy's name, though wasn't payed any attention to. This action made the man growl in anger, no one ignored him and got away with it!
"I don't think he can hear us boss! His fat ass is too wrapped up in his foo-!" One of his henchmen commented, only to get punched in the throat, getting knocked out cold. Everyone else just stared in shock at what just happened.
"What the Hell dude?" The teenager got up from his seat, putting down his hamburger and replacing it in his hand with an oversized baseball bat. "Did ya really have to call me fat?" Skye complained nonchalantly while his would-be attackers nervously pulled up their guns. He gestured to himself, pulling on a flab of skin. "Does this really look like fat to you? You asses!" He shouted, batting one man to the side easily, though having his back turned left him open. This gave a few of the men a chance to unload their guns on Skye, a shot or two hit him in the shoulder, earning an plain "ow", but the rest never hit him. Instead, the bullets all stopped mere inches from his back, then dropped to the ground.
"Man you guys like to fight dirty!" He turned around, pointing his bat at them before it transformed into a giant gatling gun. At this the gang members began to fire off more rounds, but none reached Skye, stopping all in mid air just as they had the first time. At this the men all dropped their weapons nervously, making Skye grin. "Ya like that? My Semblance allows me to have Telekinesis. I can lift, or stop objects with my mind." He pointed to his brain. "Though in terms you guys can understand..." The barrel of his gatling gun began rotating. "You're all fucked." He threatened humorously before lighting them up, either making them take cover or driving them all out of the bar. Bullets flew through the windows, the wall, and even the kitchen! NOT THE KITCHEN! He would punish himself for that later.
Once he was sure that was all of them, he stopped his onslaught and observed his handy work. The TV was destroyed, the entire East wall of the building was gone, the bar was obliterated, and his food was... COOKED! "NOOOOOO!" He fell to one knee with a dramatically clutched fist. "My food... it was so fresh... so young... so uneaten..." He cried over dramatically, until he was hit over the head and face planting into the hard wooden floor, breaking it with the force of impact.
Above him stood the leader of the gang, who had snuck around during the ass whooping his men received. He stood there slowly swinging his morningstar with a smirk. "Arrogant fat fuck!" The unnamed man laughed as he began to swing down with his spiked weapon, only to be suspended mid swing, his entire body freezing. "Wh-What the-" He stuttered out while watching in horror as Skye picked himself up.
"What the Hell did I say about calling me FUCKIN FAT!" He yelled, rearing back his bat, now back in its original form.
The gang leader could only gulp comically at his unfortunate fate. The next thing he knew, everything went dark as he was knocked out of the bar and high into the sky, leaving a smoke trail as a reminder of how fast he was going.
Back down on dry land, or what was left of Drunks and Dust, Skye shielded his eyes as he watched his opponent fly through the air, giving a laugh at how hilarious it was. "Welp, looks like i'm not needed here anymore." He nonchalantly hooked his bat to his back and turned on his heel to start out of the bar, whistling a tune. Though, he stopped at the sight of two people standing in front of him.
They were a gray haired man with a cup of coffee in his hand and a blonde woman, the latter looking rather annoyed at the mess. "Hello." The man kindly greeted.
"You're not the police, though you do seem familiar." Skye said with a confused look.
"No, we're not the law enforcement, but we are here for you. Skye Branduff, we've offer you a proposition." The man said, taking a sip of his coffee.
This peaked Skye's interest, provoking him to ask. "And what might that be?"
At this, the man smiled. "I'm glad you asked."
