Harsh wind blew across the landscape. Brown sand flew about, chunks of it breaking apart upon contact with anything larger than itself. It tore at her, cutting her exposed skin, the radioactive particles of dirt and sand making her skin tingle. She tightened her scarf around her neck, goggles covering her eyes. Her regulator duster helped block the worst of it, but it was unavoidable. She readjusted her pack, hunting rifle hanging from her shoulder.
She couldn't see more than 4 feet in front of her, sunlight trying it's best to stream through the storm. She forced forward through the storm, checking the display on her pip boy every now and then just to reference her position.
She patted down her waist, feeling the knife on her hip. Something had been following her since the storm began. It was outside her field of view, about 10 feet back. Whatever it was, it had to be big.
Yao Guai possibly. She had run into them once or twice. You just had to be careful. But they weren't known for stalking prey. Might be a few molerats. One wouldn't do it, but it could be a group. That would be incredibly weird though, as they were an underground creature. Following her above ground in this weather didn't fit with their profile.
She briefly considered it to be a Deathclaw, but that vanished from her mind almost immediately. The few stories she had heard about those monsters had painted them as isolationists. Beings that didn't leave an established area. A few questions and she had the more popular locations to find the beasts, and had taken measures to steer clear.
Regardless, she drew her rifle, readying herself. Spinning around rapidly, she fired twice, ramming the bolt as fast as possible. Two shot's cracked from the barrel, small puffs of flame ejecting from the end. The two single shells fell to the earth, wind blowing them around in the earth.
A gut wrenching roar erupted from the storm. It was deep, primal roar, the wind almost giving pause. She pulled the bolt back, another round in the chamber. She took a step back. Her mind raced, thinking of what to do. It wasn't a Yao Guai, it's roar was different.
An object leapt from the swirling storm. It stood almost 8 feet tall, but hunched. 2-foot-long claws mounted on arms as long as it was tall. Thick demonic horns sprouted from an angry, twisted visage. Thick skin and scales covered the form, showcasing powerful muscles.
A god damned Deathclaw. Well fuck.
She fired another round. It struck the beast, a spark flashing on it's face. The thick armor on it's face deflecting a 5.56mm round.
She threw herself to the side as claws swept through the space where she stood. Pulling the bolt back, she loaded another round. Coming about, she fired another round, this time into the softer stomach of the beast. This time it penetrated, but clearly didn't do much damage beyond making the beast angry.
It spun around, claws once again going for a swipe. This time they did connect, but fortunately the palm of the beast did, rather than the much larger claws. Despite that, she screamed, the force tearing the air from her lungs. It propelled her several yards away. The beast disappeared in the storm again.
"Ahh fuck," she groaned, slowly rolling over. Just her luck, encountering one of the most dangerous beasts in the wastes during a sand storm.
Slowly getting to her feet, she pulled out her knife, rifle having been lost. Holding it in a reverse grip she tried to breath calmly. Shallow breaths, or else she might vomit. There was a roar. She jumped forward, screaming when three claws carved into her back.
It was worse than a bullet. It felt like fire was tearing into her back. She could feel her toes, so she wasn't crippled. Adrenaline surged through her system, blocking the pain somewhat. She got to her feet, teeth gritted in pain.
She heard the beast roar again. Instead of dodging, she jumped into the attack. The beast seemed to pause, surprised that it's prey would willingly dive towards it. She stabbed with the knife, using the puncture wound from her bullet as an entry. It sunk to the hilt. With a scream, she pushed up, slicing upwards to the deathclaw's throat.
Steaming hot entrails poured out, conveniently onto her. The death screams of the beast echoed, mixing with her scream, echoed across the wastes. The thing shuddered, an inordinate amount of blood flowing out of the 3-foot rip in the Deathclaw's stomach.
She held the knife there, coated in blood and ichor. Her scream tapered off, ending in deep breaths. She realized that the creature was dead, once it's weight settled. She gasped when it fell on her, it's weight pinning her to the earth.
"Fuck!" She tried to push the beast off. Her hands slipped on the gory mess, unable to find purchase. Muscles straining, she let out another curse, attempting instead to slide out from underneath rather than just move the beast off. It took a few tries, but she managed, the insides of the Deathclaw providing a macabre lubrication.
The storm still raged, wind blowing, sand tearing into every bit of exposed flesh. Already a small dune was forming around the beast, seeking to cover up what she had done. It was a cruel irony, the greatest struggles in the wastes were laid low to the wastes herself.
Unable to find her hunting rifle, she merely sheathed her knife, and proceeded to stumble forwards, armed with only a knife and a few grenades. The sand storm swallowed her up quickly, covering her foot prints and the corpse behind her.
The sun shone down upon the streets. Strange holographic images hung in the air, either advertising products for sale or being used for some civil purposes. Jane couldn't help but keep her head on a swivel. All she had known so far was basically Beacon and the ruins of Mount Glenn. Now that she could get a good look at it, a look at a fully functioning, non-destroyed city, she couldn't help but gape, eyes roving everywhere. People walked without fear on the streets, motor vehicles drove at sedate paces, children laughed.
It sickened her.
These people had never known constant danger. They never had to eke out a life in an inhospitable wasteland, not knowing if the next day was going to be the last. Hell, most didn't even fight the Grimm, they just sat inside these walls, acting like there was not a care in the world. A few fought, Hunters and Huntresses, pledging their lives to protecting the 4 kingdoms, but even then, she didn't like them.
At the end of the day, they could return to a city if they hadn't died, rest, recuperate, and rearm. She couldn't fathom how many times she had camped out in the ruins of an old building, shoving the desiccated corpse of some long since dead person away so that she might have a safe place to rest. How many times had she forgone sleep, instead drugging herself to stay awake until it was safe to sleep?
She smiled ruefully, remembering her old friends chastising her for her strategy.
The rest of the team had separated, wanting to do their own things. Yang and Ruby off to buy rations apparently. Blake was at a book store or something, while Weiss was off doing something.
Jane breathed a sigh, contemplating the 'teammates' she kept company with. To be honest, the entire student dynamic was grating on her nerves. The classes presented no information beyond what existed inside the internet or this 'inter-scroll' network. She should know, she had already had Liberty Prime trawl the databases, assembling reports on relevant information.
"I could probably teach the kids shit," she mumbled, hands stuffed in her pockets.
Shortly after arriving in the city, the team had dropped her off at a clothing store before vanishing. Almost an hour later and she had better casual clothing than her school uniform.
Black pants, soft knee high leather boots in a darker brown. Grey collared shirt covered by a beige wool storm coat reaching her ankles. The entire ensemble was functional, comfortable, and inexpensive. The coat was fantastic because it provided a place to store a few knives in her sleeves and her pistol under her arm. The only thing that wasn't new was her grey scarf, wrapped around her neck. The edges had been repaired, the previously burnt and dirtied state fixed.
Now she was browsing around the town, looking for something. During the data sweeps, Liberty had brought up one interesting facet of information. Apparently that strange white shield most people had wasn't some form of technology or tech. It was in fact a strange phenomena called Aura.
A physical manifestation of a person's soul. It protected people from harm, and gave them capabilities far beyond baseline human. For example, running extremely fast, creating magic symbols in the sky, literally bursting into flames when angry.
This Aura allowed for all these things and more. The extra capabilities, things such as the special abilities most hunters exhibited, were called Semblance. Apparently while there was a registry, it was uncommon for the same type of semblance to crop up repeatedly. This meant most people had distinct capabilities that, in her world, would have been considered the thing of comic books.
So now she was trying to find out where exactly she could find somebody to unlock this 'Aura,' since she may or may not have it. There was no record of people in her world having this kind of power, the ability to shield themselves against harm.
Glancing at her scroll, she smiled softly. She had recently copied the database from her pip boy over to the device, and was loving it. It provided a wonderful way of keeping all the same information, but without the massive bulk on her left arm. Instead there was a pair of leather gloves on her hands, both to hide her pale white flesh on one arm, and also to just protect her hands.
Glancing at the information on the scroll, she looked at the building. It was industrial in design. Grey brick, no windows, a single sign out front proclaiming it to be the 'Three Bears'. Apparently it was a nightclub run by the leader of a gang. Larger in size, they hadn't been connected with anything directly, but they were under suspicion.
Sliding the device closed, she strode elegantly forwards, using both hands to force open the doors. Despite the fact it was only 1 in the afternoon, there were a few people milling about inside. A quick glance told her they were probably cleaners, security, the like.
One of the figures walked forward. Black suite, black shirt, red stripe tie. It was complimented with aviator sunglasses and a fedora. She cocked an eyebrow, amused at the archetypal gangster look.
"We're not open right now. You'll have to leave," he stated. She noticed he was tense. There wasn't an obvious weapon on him, but it might be under his jacket.
"I need to speak to," She paused, drawing a blank. Her brow furrowed, trying to remember the name Liberty had given her. Holding up a finger, ignoring the goon's sputtering, she reached into her pocket, pulling out her scroll. A quick scan and she knew.
"Junior. I need to speak to some guy named Junior," she finalized, a pleased look overcoming her face. The look didn't leave her face when a gun was pointed towards her head.
"Leave," he commanded, any sort of joviality gone. If Jane was worried, she didn't show it. Instead her pleased look morphed into a feral grin. Slapping the scroll shut, she unbuttoned her coat, putting the device inside. Instead of withdrawing, her hand moved higher, grasping the handle of her pistol.
The goon retracted his gun, moving to slide the action back.
Jane whipped out her arm, pistol in her hand. She leveled it with the man's face, the grin not leaving her face. She slowly moved her free hand up, grabbing his sunglasses. The man didn't move, now visible eyes flicking between her gun and her hand. Maintaining eye contact, she slipped the glasses over her eyes. This would do.
"Let's try this again," she repeated, enjoying the fear across his face. A barrel wider than a man's eye usually did that. She didn't have to waste time readying it, the safety was off and a round in the chamber.
Her eyes glanced left and right, seeing more of the goons show up. They all had red machetes, and they held them rather loosely.
"Go to hell!" he spat. Jane sighed. Always the hard way.
Inside the office, Junior looked up from his terminal. There were gunshots. He glanced at the time.
"It's not even 2!" he moaned. Reaching over, he grabbed his weapon, a baseball bat that turned into a missile launcher. Heading out the door, he adjusted his red tie. Pressing the button, it turned into it's long range option. He readied it, heading for the main floor. He idly noticed the screaming had stopped, as well as the gunshots. Turning the corner, he stared.
His men were dead. Some blown apart by something, others cut in half by a sword. Of the 12 he had out there earlier, there was nobody left. Anger welled up inside him, hands clenching on his weapon. He scanned the area, searching for the perpetrator that could have done this.
"So you're in command."
He moved to spin around, but a hard kick to his knee forced him down. Another to his shoulder caused him to drop his weapon, it clanking uselessly to the ground. He stopped when a sharp object was pressed to his neck. He could feel the serrated edges of the blade tugging on his skin.
"I need help unlocking an Aura. I'm told you might know somebody?" Junior didn't see the person, but he knew it was female. With the blade at his neck and now, from what he could tell, a rather large bore gun on his spine, he didn't dare turn around.
"The only person I was aware of that could do that is currently in Prison." The person didn't respond, just dug the gun into his back, forcing him slightly onto the blade.
"Roman Torchwick!" he yelled, voice cracking slightly. The pressure lessened. "The military has him stashed up on one of their ships! I don't know which one!"
The figure was silent. "What's the requirements for unlocking an Aura?" He frowned, trying to remember school lessons from his childhood. He gasped as the pressure increased, the sword cutting his neck slightly.
"They need to be experienced! Control over their own Aura! Technically any high level Hunter could do it!" He felt like coughing, but the knife was pressed firmly to his neck.
"Much obliged." The weapons were removed. Before he could spin around, something heavy impacted his head. He hit the ground, stunned. His vision started to fade, the icy claws of unconsciousness already overtaking him. The last thing he saw was a pair of brown leather boots and a beige coat.
Jane walked down the street, hands in her coat pockets. She didn't pay attention to too much, content with her thoughts. It was a novel experience, walking down a street, not needing to worry about getting shot, bitten, or killed in some horrific manner.
Getting the information had been easy. Sure killing the minions wasn't preferable, but it worked. And Junior hadn't seen her face, so there was that. Her pistol was slightly lighter, having expelled a few rounds. There was another clip on her though, so not all was lost.
Apparently she needed an experienced hunter or huntress to unlock an Aura. Roman wasn't good, since he was laid up in prison with a screwed up knee. Experienced eliminated the entirety of the student body. And from what she could tell, there weren't any local shops that advertised 'unlocking.'
She paused mid step, a thought coming to her. "Ozpin could probably help," she mumbled. Pulling open her scroll, she typed out a quick command to Liberty to organize something of a meeting between the two. Happy that her homicidal Democratic AI was on the job, she continued forth.
Nothing of note caught her attention, the rows of stores and shops all blending into each other. There was a small part of her that hated it here. Everything was cheery, bright, sunshine and lollipops. None of these people had known true hardships. Not like her.
Then again, there was nobody quite like her.
She continued down the street, but had to stop and lower her newly acquired glasses, stunned by what she saw.
Robots weren't uncommon in the Wasteland. They existed, some gone mad with time and decay, other's maintained expertly. The Mr. Handy was the most common, given its durability. Protectrons were up there as well, but both suffered from issues. The Mr. Handy was very agile, but three arms made it clunky, and the rocket motor that kept it afloat was inefficient. The Protectrons were more humanoid, but the arms were almost entirely useless.
Before her stood 10 robots, in two lines of five. Humanoid, they could be mistaken at a distance for people in armor. Five fingers, dexterous, they moved with lifelike precision. The only thing she could compare them to was an Android back in the wasteland, but these seemed to be on another level altogether.
It almost made her mouth water, imagining just what she could do with something like this. Perhaps a body for Liberty?
Lost in her thoughts, eyes following the patrolling robots, she remembered a simpler time. A time when she charged headlong into battle, the 80-foot-tall mechanized warrior that was Liberty Prime, shooting lasers from his eye and throwing nukes like it was going out of style. It made her heart quicken, hands grow clammy. Nothing but good times.
This though, he could be a little bit more portable. 80-foot-tall war machine was fine and all, but something a little more versatile was always nice. But a protectron body or anything similar was just too… degrading.
Maybe she could buy one?
"Excuse me!" she exclaimed, striding quickly towards what appeared to be two human handlers. The two soldiers turned, their body armor effectively hiding them from view.
"May we help you ma'am?" Soldier A seemed at ease, Soldier B keeping an eye out. Inwardly she nodded, happy that these two seemed competently trained.
"Yes, where did you get such exquisite robots?" she queried, admiring the machines close up.
"They are the new model Altesian Knights. We're phasing the old series out. Too many issues." Jane nodded, mind already whirring with ideas.
"Where might I acquire one?" she asked eagerly. Soldier A frowned, his head tilting slightly in confusion.
"These are military property ma'am, they aren't for sale," he stated, confusion lacing his tone.
Jane frowned. Surely there must be a way to acquire one of these glorious constructs.
It was as if the entire day had taken a grey overtone. The previously sunny weather seemed to tone down, the wind dropped a few degrees. The entire world seemed to take on her mood.
"Stupid rent-a-cops wouldn't give me a robot," she grumbled, heading back towards the cheep vertibird remakes known as a bullhead.
She didn't notice getting back onto the aircraft. She didn't notice the rest of her team boarding after her, loaded slightly with purchases. She didn't notice the flight back, nor did she really notice departing, waving dejectedly to her team. She walked aimlessly, not quite caring for anything. If she couldn't have a robot, what point was there to life?
Staring up, she stared at Beacon Tower. Well, perhaps something could be salvaged. Entering the building, she idly noticed it was starting to rain. It suited her mood. Ascending the stairs, she idly noted the weather was taking a turn for the worse. Reaching the top, she paused, seeing not a door, but an elevator. She paused, wondering how much money had been wasted making the only entrance to the office at the top use two different means.
Entering the elevator, she mashed the button, stomach dropping when it rose. She almost cursed at the cheep elevator music. Even the Wasteland, with the world burnt and scarred, cheep elevator music still remained.
With a ding, the doors opened, revealing the office. Ozpin stood before the large panoramic window, coffee in hand, drinking steadily. The lights were dimmed, allowing the lights of the city in the distance to shine through. She idly noticed there was a stack of paper on one side of the desk.
"Ah, Ms. Freewrite, to what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked conversationally. Stashing her sunglasses in her coat, Jane walked forward.
"So I learned about this thing you call Aura. Did a little looking around and you might be able to help me out," she commented. Ozpin turned around, merely sipping his coffee.
"You need your Aura unlocked then?" She nodded, pleased she wouldn't have to elaborate on the situation.
"Are you even sure you posses the capability to generate an Aura? If your world does not have an element that interacts with Aura, then you might not be able to create one." Jane nodded.
"Yeh, I had thought about that. But I figured what's the worst that could happen? My own independent research basically stated nobody has ever been permanently hurt unlocking an Aura." Ozpin nodded at that, sipping his coffee.
Seriously, he drank a fair bit of that stuff.
"I suppose we could see what happens." Walking forward, he put his coffee on the table, transferring his cane to his off hand. Holding out his hand, Jane grasped it, looking him in the eye.
Taking a breath, Ozpin started, chanting something that sounded completely made up.
"For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all. Infinite in distance and unbound by death, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee."
She gasped. A sharpness had entered her. Centered around her heart it was hot, fiery, burning. It began to spread, flowing along her nerves, along her veins and muscles. It was all encompassing, it made her feel alive. There was a roaring in her ears, the sounds of fire and death. She could distantly make out Ozpin yelling. When did he get so tall?
She grinned, the pain going up her neck. An icy feeling was spreading from her chest. If the first one had been the hottest thing she had felt, then this was the opposite. Slowly, the feeling replaced the heat, creeping along her limbs. The burning sensation, as if she was being cooked was lancing across her skull. She was distantly aware of Ozpin yelling.
She couldn't approximate the feeling at all, the duality of the fire and ice. She knew the feeling of ice. Her first winter in the wastes. The cold, the wind, the ash, it froze a person to their core. She had almost frozen that first winter. This is what it felt like. But she couldn't place the fire. Where had she felt that before.
Once again the blackness was coming for her. The fire was returning. It was comforting, familiar. She tried to place it.
Oh yes, now she remembered.
The burning heat of an Atom Bomb.
I do not own RWBY or Fallout 3. All works belong to their respective creators.
And holy shit did anyone watch the latest episode? My story ideas finally have merit!