A/N: Well, time for another intro. There will probably be one more, and then we'll move onto the story and action stuff that I know you're looking forward to. Thanks to those who followed/faved, feel free to drop a review if you feel so inclined, because feedback would be nice.
RWBY is owned by Rooster Teeth and Mounty Oum.
The silence of the early morning (Well, silence beyond the chainsaw snores), was shattered by an earsplitting alarm that filled the small apartment, aimed at the lone occupant of the room. Said occupant was currently curled up in bed, a mess of tangled bedsheets, yellow hair and clothes, caught in the throes of tired exhaustion, and none too pleased to be woken up in this manner. Blankets moved as the occupant shifted into a position from which her clenched fist could slam down on the desk beside her bed, seeking the source of her irritation.
Sadly, this was ineffective, for the main reason that the blaring scroll was not on the desk but rather in her dresser across the room, a contingency prepared so she wouldn't smash it and go back to sleep like she had with five alarm clocks before now. At some point it had just become not worth it to buy new clocks, and so this method was used instead.
And as crude as it was, it was effective as well. The discontent form rose from the bed, brushing hair out of her eyes. Yang Xiao Long was not a morning person, and it was an extreme effort of will to rise from the bed and walk over to the dresser so she could turn off the alarm, yawning and stretching the while.
From there it was a quick trip to the shower, the downpour of warm water some small substitute for the rest she could no longer have. From there she emerged ready to take on the day, hair meticulously groomed and otherwise freshened up form her night activities. She couldn't help wincing a tad, working her left shoulder until the pain subdued to a dull ache instead. Now that, she could live with.
Pain, both the feeling of it and how to manage it, Yang was used to. In her dual occupations, it was something of a necessity, the consequences of both tending to linger on. After a quick breakfast it was off to work, navigating amongst the busy streets of morning Vale to the gym where she worked. It was pretty popular, and the job was well paying. Better still, it had flexible hours.
"Hey Yang," came the greetings from the regulars as she entered the gym, as well as the inevitable looks that she brushed away, proceeding into a locker room to stash her gear away before getting to work.
"So, what's on my schedule today Sun," she asked, stretching her arms and legs, muscles rippling under careful contortions. She had moved from the locker room over to the back of the gym, where the administration work went on, and now stood leaning against the white metal door frame.
Beside her was Sun, a Faunus and one of the other trainers there. He was currently switching between handstands and balancing on a single feet, ready for the morning, or so it seemed. With his carefree attitude and natural flexibility, he was a good fit for this job
"Just the usual,"Sun replied as he flipped through a clipboard he held loosely. It seemed something had piqued his interest though as he stopped for a few seconds, before glancing up at Yang and resuming his movement. "Ooh, someone's special. Looks like management has you lined up for an exclusive workout session."
"Really?" That wasn't something she did often, so whoever it was must be relatively important, or rich. She clenched a gloved fist, working each digit in brown leather with a flexed arm, attention divided between that and Sun. "Who's it with?"
"Some guy named...Ozpin, I think," Sun replied, throwing the clip board off to the side.
Yang turned to the name, thinking. She felt like she had heard that name before, but she couldn't place it. Eventually she shrugged and pushed it to the side. She would find out soon enough. The gym was filling up with people, and the time for the first classes and groups they both led was fast approaching.
She fixed a grin as she pushed away form the door, hands on her hips. "Looks like it's time to get to work. You ready Sun?"
"Of course I am," Sun replied confidently. "This is what I look forward to every day."
"You sure it's that and not all the ladies that you do 'flexibility' exercises with," Yang asked, shooting a knowing wink at Sun, who feigned ignorance.
"Hey, Zumba is a real workout. And like you can talk," Sun shot back with a grin as he walked off.
Yang snorted and walked off in a different direction to do her own work. She was more a personal trainer, though she did do some group workouts as well. Weight lifting, kickboxing, stamina training, that sort of thing. She was definitely more physical, preferring to feel the solid weight of a punching bag against her gloved fists. There was something eminently satisfying about it, only matched by her late night hobby.
The day went by fast, and before she knew it it was time for the session that had been arranged for her by the manager. She had used a towel to clean herself off some, and was now waiting in one of the side gyms for the client to arrive. She had many expectations, but none of them included the unassuming man that came in on a wheelchair, cane sitting across his lap, and escorted by a tall, attentive, blond woman with glasses, by Yang's guess a co worker or assistant of some kind.
"Thank you Glynda, that will be all for now," Ozpin said, glancing up at the older woman before placing the cane on the ground and rising from his wheelchair, awkward in his motions, and a hint of pain flashing behind glasses as he stood before Yang.
"Ms. Long, it's a pleasure,' he said, extending a hand. "I've heard nothing but good things about you."
Yang grinned, taking the hand and giving it a strong shake. "I hope you haven't been listening to Sun. I'd like to think I'm a bit more capable than that."
She received a slight uptick at the edge of Ozpin's neutral expression, letting go and stepping back as Glynda exited the room. "You came recommended, and I find myself in need of someone to help along my recovery. My previous trainer is...no longer acceptable."
That earned a nod as Yang stepped back, leaning against the railing that was positioned in front of the full body mirror. "I feel like I've heard your name before, but I just can't think of where..."
For some reason that brought yet a wider semblance of a grin from Ozpin, who leaned against his cane. "Political adviser to the mayor," he said succinctly, noting Yang's surprised look. "Don't worry. You're not the first person to make that mistake Ms Long. My work is more behind the scenes than anything."
That elicited a sigh of relief, one bullet dodged. "Is it just leg exercises then, or is there more you need?"
Ozpin nodded. "Just the leg for now."
"Well then, let's get started," Yang replied, doing a small fist pump, and words were quickly turned into action as they got to work, some simple leg exercises as she got a feel for how bad this injury of his was. Let it never be said that she didn't know how this sort of thing went. But for now, to focus on her client. There was a lot ahead for both of them in this recovery of his.
Darkness had fallen on the city once again, and a masked figure stood a silent vigil on the rooftops, black clothe mixed and contrasting with bright yellow hair. The night had come and now it was time for Yang's other occupation, one she even preferred to her day job.
She moved then in response to chatter from the radio she had linked into the police network, all delivered to her by earpiece. She jumped off the rooftop, moving in smooth, practiced motions as she raised an arm to fire a hook that embedded itself in concrete, the rope pulling taunt to allow her to swing ahead. It was either this or the motorcycle, and this would attract less attention, which was what she had in mind.
She wasn't quite sure how she had gotten into the masked vigilante business. Perhaps it was the adrenaline rush, the knowledge that she was helping the city, perhaps even just the costume and equipment (Okay, that was definitely part of it). With how utterly ineffective the police were, drastic measures needed to be taken. And she would take them, so others didn't have to.
Faster she moved, running across rooftops and using her grapple gauntlets to bridge the gap, heading towards a warehouse near the harbor district. She was ready for a fight, and hopefully she would get a good one. Soon she arrived, taking up a place on a rooftop overlooking her destination.
From her perch she scanned the scene below, questing to pick out identities and useful information. There was significant movement down below, indicating that they were either receiving a shipment of some kind of shipment or preparing for an exodus, if the movement of large metal containers with the Schnee label was any sign. It was this movement that had drawn police attention, though they weren't going to investigate it.
Her gaze sharpened and eyes narrowed as she picked out an insignia amidst the bustle of activity. It was a red animal head with slash marks, the symbol of the White Fang. They were a criminal gang that had been rising in power in recent years, who's main support base was the Faunus population of Vale. She had clashed with them a few times, and thus far they hadn't impressed her, despite their apparent vendetta with the Schnee's over business practice or labor policies or something.
In her head, she planned out avenues of attack, what to do next, if she should get involved in this situation. After all, there were a lot of guys with guns down there, enough that she wouldn't be able to take them all down, and shouldn't Schnee Company private security be handling this anyway? High chance of getting injured, low chance of catching them all, even lower chance of getting someone important, not to even mention the chance of getting a conviction out of it...
she nearly punched herself, breaking out into an anticipatory grin. Why the hell was she arguing with herself about getting into a fight with some lowlife thugs? Legality and politics were things for others to be concerned with. Her job was to take down these baddies. As long as she disrupted this thing, the city would be that much better off for it.
With her mind made up, Yang sprang into vibrant action, though she found herself having to give up flashy theatrics in exchange for not immediately getting shot at. Dust propelled darts smashed glass and lights flickered out one after the other as she moved, vaulting from the roof down to the lanes of metal containers below. Some darts took down other guards, their guns clattering to the ground as they collapsed, and she moved on past them with no issue.
That didn't last though as she came to an intersection, the guards there surprisingly more alert. She leapt into action then, swiftly jumping into the clearing with fists flying, Ember Celicas working to good effect as the gauntlets slammed home. Metal slammed against clothed flesh, and fired at the same time to send the faunus flying through the air before he slammed into a metal container, denting it in the process.
"It's the Bee! Get her," came the cry from the gang members, picked up and carried along the line so everyone knew she was there once the element of surprise had been blown away.
"It's the Yellow Phoenix," she yelled back, emphasizing that with a kick to some poor fool's face. That was her hero name, and she wasn't sure, nor pleased, about the 'Bee' thing going around. Most likely it was some mobster trying to mock her, and now it was infuriatingly getting to be more popular than the name she used herself.
Flames wreathed Ember Celica as she fired off shot after shot, using the momentum from that to fuel her attacks and her dodging, not to mention her anger at the use of the hated name. She was a raging fire, cutting a swathe through those who stood in her way, and getting naught but scratches and bruises in return. It was almost enough to make her feel bad for these guys, how lopsided this fight was.
Fiery uppercuts, momentum fueled kicks and leaps, the feel of bullets whizzing past in the air, all were a feed to her adrenaline high as she made her way over to the shipping containers. At some point the Fang wised up and cut their losses, and she met less and less until she arrived, securing the stolen shipment for the authorities.
It seemed her scuffle had attracted the police though, and her head turned as she heard the sound of sirens approaching. This was her time to cut and run, lest they shoot at her too, and she made her way with quick vaults up to the rooftops to resume her vigil, wincing from the pain of a blow to her side. All in a night's work, but the night wasn't over yet.
When the police arrived, they would find several unconscious faunus, carrying weapons and some with gang paraphernalia, as well as several shipping containers of dust and other illegal contraband. Another success for the Yellow Phoenix
