Hello ! Thank you for giving my fiction a chance !
It's my first time writing on this site, so there may be some mistakes in the format or the ranking. I'll try to resolve those as soon as they show up.
Also, if something troubles you in the way I write or if you're curious as to where I'm aiming to bring this story, the note at the end of the chapter is made for you !
Now, let's get down to business, shall we ?
Disclaimer : I do not own RWBY.
She had scoured the alleys of Vale for a couple days in search of a lead. Frustrating at first, a bunch of lowlife criminals now associated her eyes with promises of pain. A work well done if she might say so. Plus, she finally had a name and a place to look for.
She was making progress ! After all these years wondering what-ifs and pestering her dad, she had at last found a clue to start her search.
A picture. A picture of her.
She was going to find her, tell her all that she had weighting on her heart and get the closure she so desperately needed. That was the plan in broad strokes at least. Details… Details could wait.
For now, she had a club owner to shake up. And he would remember that night. The night a tempest by the name of Yang Xiao-Long swept through his scummy bar !
Ruby would be so proud of her sister right now.
She was now in front of the establishment so aptly named 'The Club' and she could hear the rhythmic thumping coming through the doors. There were a couple goons standing at the front, either keeping a watchful gaze or checking the comings and goings of the local night fauna into the hotspot.
Yang strode to the entrance and flashed a teasing grin at the bouncers, fluttering her eyelashes for good measure. She was let in without a snatch, to the irritation of the waiting crowd.
Ah ! Easy !
First step into the den and she was blasted with music that pumped her blood right up, with a good tempo for dancing and a fairly entrancing melody. Appropriate for the venue as well as the occasion – in a word, perfect.
She briefly observed the mass of people on the dance floor and the disparate groups holding jealously the rare tables around. No one stood out to her, just the regular joes and janes enjoying a night out. With a bit of luck they would continue to do so, yet Yang could already tell this whole thing would go south sooner rather than later. She wasn't of the subtle or patient kind usually, never mind tonight.
She spotted the head honcho, handling the bar at the back of the room. Her info on the guy proved true enough, black hair and beard, serious look plastered on his face and dressed like every other lackey around except for the jacket.
Grinning to herself, she headed straight to him.
"Junior, right ?"
He looked up from the glass he was polishing and gave her a brief once over. "Who's asking ?"
"Just a regular girl looking for some tips." She replied with a coy smile.
"Sorry blondie, I don't cater to children. Enjoy yourself on the dancefloor." And with that he went back to his work.
Well, can't say I didn't try the diplomatic way.
He was slow to react when she jumped over the counter, even slower after grabbing his manhood and squeezing harshly.
"It's sir to you, thank you very much." Her smile grew threatening as she put up her scroll, displaying the picture of her birth mother. "People say you know things. So, tell me where I can find this woman and I'll let you go, promise."
His breath labored and voice strained, he rushed to answer. "No idea who that is ! Never seen her before !"
"Forgetting something, aren't you ?" Oh, she was enjoying this far too much. It probably wasn't healthy but she couldn't bring herself to care.
"Sir ! I swear I don't know anything ! Sir !"
"That's disappointing. And now we have an audience. Must be pretty embarrassing for you, hmm ?" His eyes kept darting from her to his approaching minions, as if they could help him. "Next time, you'll tell me why a big guy like you calls himself 'Junior', 'kay ? But let's not keep your friends waiting, I'm sure they're rearing to go as it is."
A wink, a flash of the tongue, and a hearty punch to the face sent Junior straight through a subwoofer, his legs dangling in the air.
It was all that was needed to unleash mayhem in this lively place.
[- The Gammer – THE DROP (Darren Style Remix) -]
They came at her with red axes, their main theme she gathered, rather uncoordinated and glaringly unexperienced in the finer arts of face-smashing. Yet, the numbers alone might prove a challenge.
She welcomed it gladly.
The first never knew what struck him, the second primed a swing but took a fist to the jaw, and as the third and fourth tried to surround her, she eagerly jumped into the fray.
Hooks and jabs. Torso, head and arms. To hurt, but never break. Swirling around and raining blows, she got the warm-up she was expecting. She was starting to feel the adrenaline rise and her tempo stabilize.
Oh, I'm following the music. Didn't even notice it change. Hmm… Don't get predictable Yang. But gods is it fun… Beating freaks to the beats of music ! Ah ! Plus one for Yang !
More and more came as the customers noticed and departed from the venue in waves.
Backstep, left cross, roundhouse, parry and strike, bob left, correct right, punch low, axe passing through her guard but deflected by her aura, a kick coming to her left, jump above and land on the leg, headbutt and hook the next guy in the diaphragm, spin around, evade another axe, yank the arm off, elbow in the face, gauntlet into another one…
Soon, the ranks thinned and next came two young ladies, one dressed in red, the other in white. And as everyone knew, the more outlandish and eye-catching the clothes you wore, the stronger you were. And if not, it was despicable false advertisement.
"Militia, let's teach this cow a lesson."
"Sure thing, Melanie."
The twins were smiling, anticipating an easy two-on-one fight. Yang planned to prove them wrong with a flourish.
The clawed one charged first, long swipes aiming to keep her occupied while the other flanked her. A left haymaker forced its way past the red-dressed one's guard, forcing her to backstep. Same instant, other side, a bladed heel snapped at the blonde's head. Thanks to the breathing room she afforded herself, she could easily dodge and grab the foot flying past. A quick turn and pull sent her second opponent straight into a wall, shoulder first.
The first one was back a second too late, but attacked with far higher speed after seeing her sister get thrown away. Many brutal slashes were evaded, even more were deflected. Yang bid her time, letting the ticked off wolverine exhaust herself.
When her timing slipped, the blonde brawler did what she did best, she drove her knuckles into the out of place elbow, then the undefended face, and finally deep into the tender stomach. A painfully crippling combo for sure, even with aura to dampen the blows. But before Yang could turn the girl's lights off, she heard the other dashing at her back.
Sidestepping and a one two to the temple had her crash into a glass pillar.
That's gotta hurt.
The other one came back with a vengeance, swiping her claws left and right in a whirlwind of blades. She had speed on her side but clearly lacked in accuracy now, half of her attacks needing barely any movement on Yang's part to be avoided. Again, she tired and didn't notice the piece of heavy-duty metal coming straight for her jaw.
She went flying and landed back first on a bar stool.
That's gotta hurt.
But even with her doppelganger out for the count, the sharp-heeled one wasn't done yet. She seemed more collected, wary of charging in as she had done before without the support of her twin. So, Yang took the initiative.
Firing a barrage of slugs while rushing at her, the poor thing had no opportunity to counter her and took a final combo ending with a sharp jab to the spleen. She fell and huddled on the ground, moaning into her knees.
Pleased with the result, Yang grinned fiercely. Quick work was good work after all.
"Damn it Ash ! Stop with the fucking music and get her the hell out of my club !"
Seemed like Junior was up and about again. And this Ash… Another contender maybe ?
"Junior, you don't pay nearly enough for that kind of thing."
Ah, the DJ. She was wondering why the music kept matching her moves, adapting to the rhythm she set. He was a competent performer, that's for sure, but a fighter at that ? She doubted he'd fare any better than Junior's men, yet you never know.
"Whatever. I'll pay up. Just kick her out…" The owner seemed crestfallen as he looked at the wreck his place had become.
"Fine, fine. Hey, lady !" Stepping down from the stage – with the bobbing teddy bear head still on – the DJ hailed her. "Mind taking this outside ? I think this joint is ruined enough as is."
He didn't move aggressively towards her, nor did he take a fighting stance. Yang felt magnanimous at the moment, having already satiated her lust for havoc, so she agreed without much thought to his demand.
Then he just walked past her, turning his back to her completely.
Zero survival instinct this one. Or one hell of a superiority complex. Bah… Pity this night has to end so lamely.
Shrugging, she followed him outside. She didn't entertain one second the idea of striking at his back. As disappointing as this last scrap promised to be, she wouldn't just jump the guy. She wasn't raised a coward.
"So, you still want to duke it out ?"
He didn't seem enthused at the idea of fighting her. After all, he already got her to exit the club, what reason was there to keep the fire burning ? But Yang couldn't help herself, she had to bait him, if only a little.
"What, you scared, teddy boy ?"
"A bit, yeah." Contrary to his words, his body was relaxed, slouched even. "Cops usually don't appreciate public showdowns, makes them look bad or something, and they're probably on their way already…"
As he trailed off and watched both ends of the street, Yang couldn't help but chuckle. The guy really had it coming, being far too dismissive to her liking. She'd show him why you never let your eyes off of your opponent.
She blasted forward straight at him, both her fists coming back from behind her to strike his head on both sides. His reaction time wasn't all that bad. He pulled back, just enough that her weapons clanged in front of his face. That is, if he wasn't wearing such a ridiculous thing on his head.
The plush apparel squeaked and burst in an explosion of fluff and plastic, staggering and blinding the man. Not one to waste a free shot, and aiming to finish this night appropriately, the brawler started to pound his abdomen. He tried to block, even managed to do so at first to her amazement, but she adapted and struck at odd angles, switching gears every so often.
The unending chain of blows pushed him further and further, always on the back foot and unbalanced, yet each time she thought he might stumble he flailed around a bit and kept upright.
While funny at first, the beatdown was starting to grow boring.
How much abuse can this guy take ? I should end this fast. Kick his legs and be done with it, he can't even retaliate.
She did just so. A savage hit that should have dropped him like timber, yet didn't. She saw aura covering his shin, which shouldn't have been much of an issue, but something was off. The glow seemed more defined, more consistent than what she was used to, with clear borders, almost like a luminous glass panel.
The sole of her boot bounced back, and as she readied her stance anew, she saw another light, just as grey as the last one. One coming straight at her.
A flash, a bang, asphalt, walls and stars passing before her eyes, then a mighty screech of metal torn apart.
Huh..? What happened ?
She found herself encased in the side of a car, the metal wrapped around her.
"Let's call it a draw, alright ?"
Looking up, she saw the DJ massage his torso, leaned against a lamp post.
"What ?" Her mind was fuzzy, playing catch up with her short-term memory and what she was seeing. Blinking didn't help, nor did shaking her head – which upset her stomach more than anything – and flexing her muscles to extricate herself from her post-modern sarcophagus solved nothing. She felt… weak.
"Yeah, sorry 'bout that. I panicked a bit there. My bad." He stretched his back and got the teddy bear head off, throwing it a glance before discarding it. "Here, let me help you."
He stretched his hand to her but she couldn't help but stare at his face. Eyes roaming left to right, top to bottom incessantly. It probably was the head trauma making her loopy, or the neon blue light coming from the sign right above his left shoulder that made his face so captivating. Or maybe, just maybe, the many scars adorning his features. The left side spoke of the remains of many battles survived at great prices. The right, not so much. More of a smattering of small nicks and cuts. His nose and lips had tiny chunks missing, too inconsequential to really stand out but complementing – if that is the appropriate word – the rest nonetheless.
She couldn't think of an uglier mug than his.
"Come on lady, I know I'm a looker, but-"
Right then, sirens became audible right around the corner. Next, a van and two police cars accompanied by an ambulance made a sharp turn and stopped in front of the club. Out came the first responders, radioing and shouting at one another to get an idea of the situation. A paramedic saw them before the others, and a couple second later a squad of policemen had the DJ in their sights.
"No sudden movement !" One of them blared. To which others added, "Hands behind your head !" "On your knees !"
The scarred man complied, seemingly non-plussed by the commotion, albeit frowning a tad.
His arrest proceeded without incident, cuffed and brought toward the van by the attentive police force in a swift and professional manner.
"Medics, you're clear. Hoffman, take your team and bring him to the precinct. You know the procedure for huntsmen." The one seemingly in charge barked.
While she was fussed over and ultimately pulled out of the wreckage, she couldn't help but play back the fight in her head.
She had him. She definitely did. And then she didn't, thanks to some weird aura techniques. One hit and she was out, not even the chance to let her Semblance run wild. Oh, he was good, no doubt about that. In hindsight, she wondered if he was truly blinded, if the way he blocked and avoided obstacles while back tracking was deliberate, and if so, how ?
But more than that, was she getting overconfident ? Nothing warned her of his capabilities. Maybe his attitude beforehand but if she had to be wary of every smug and cocky adversary, she'd be on her toes pretty much every fight, and that just wasn't possible. She liked the freedom of combat, overanalyzing every sign and tell just wasn't her way.
She chose the middle ground. To let her style flow unhindered but keep a little something under the hood at any point. That was the approximate plan at least. Details would wait, as always.
A bar brawl. A promising new student of his had taken part in a bar brawl, of all things. And not even two weeks before the start of her first semester at that. Experience told him it was nothing out of the ordinary for young huntsmen-in-training yet he still wished for clearer – or less enthusiast – minds in the youth of today. Ah but wishes paved the road of delusion. His life should have vaccinated him against such instinctive thinking, but alas.
Maybe the opponent she faced was the cause of his slight discomfort. An unexpected development for sure. That such a person escaped his radar was… unlikely. And unlikely raised concerns. More so with the abilities this man showed. The footage the cameras in the street caught was clear, the signs unmistakable.
"Right this way, sir."
The officer pointed him to a heavy-set door, a placard reading 'Huntsman Detention Cell 2' next to it. The guard stationed at its side exchanged a look with his superior and fetched the keys to the two sets of locks securing the metal panel in place. Once opened, he could see a sturdy steel table and chairs bolted to the floor illuminated by a crude but solid light inlayed in the ceiling. The standard accommodation for interrogation rooms used to host huntsmen-level individuals. And such an individual was sat against the back wall of this one, observing his new visitor as the visitor observed him.
Scars everywhere you could look at. Face, scalp, neck, arms, hands. Probably more under the simple clothes he wore. Ashen grey hair with deep black eyes, but those didn't capture attention as much as the lines and crosses over his skin. Even if hard to tell, he was relatively young. Thirty years old, at most. He held himself like a caged animal, head lowered and elbows resting on his half-bent knees, yet the look he gave the newcomer was one filled with cold intelligence.
This new interrogator, dressed in shades of green, stepped into the room, the door closing behind him with a rattle. He then sat down on one of the chairs.
[- Forest Swords – Crow -]
"Hello mister Ketchum." The older man noticed the hint of a smirk struggling to stretch across the detainee's face. "I have come here to help you as to your recent troubles with the law. But first, do you happen to know who I am ?"
An open question to test the waters.
"I know your face, but no idea, no." Mister Ketchum – an alias clearly – answered readily from his spot on the floor. He felt no deception in his words, but had been wrong before and shall be so again in the future.
"I am the current Headmaster of Beacon, professor Ozpin. You might have seen me on the news." Ozpin added with a gentle smile, keeping in tune with his public persona.
"I swear, those names…" Was muttered before looking back at him. "I don't keep up with recent events, sorry." Suspicious, as Ozpin had been Beacon's Headmaster for a good twenty years now. "What's the director of a school doing here so late ?"
"Not so much late as early, rather." The sun was now peeking over the horizon, no windows to tell the time in this place.
"You didn't exactly answer my question, did you ?" The cuffed man asked with a glint of mischievousness.
Still attentive after hours of interrogation, but direct.
Ozpin nodded, keeping the conversation rolling. "You find yourself in a precarious position. The policemen must have informed you of your irregular situation within our walls and threatened you with imprisonment and eviction. Is that correct ?"
"Yep." His knowing smile hinted to the Headmaster that his diversion still wasn't finding purchase. A distraction was in order.
"As for the altercation between yourself and miss Xiao-Long, you'll be glad to know that no charge will be held."
"Xiao-Long… How is she ?" A frown marred his valleyed face.
Genuine or fake concern ?
"She is quite alright. Being a huntress trainee, she proves more resilient than you might think. She happens to be a student of mine, or will be in the near future at least, which explains my presence here."
A silence stretched, both waiting for the other to give more.
"So, you just came all the way here to tell me I don't have to worry about something inconsequential ?"
Descent resistance to blanks, resumes the discussion with a question. May have been trained in interrogation techniques.
"Not quite. May I call you Ash ?"
"Yeah, better that way." He said with a shrug.
True name ? Diminutive ? Nickname ?
"Tell me, Ash, where do you come from ?"
"Far away from here." A forlorn look passed in his eyes for an instant and was gone the next.
He's making it too obvious. Keep digging.
"Your file says from the village of Saharazad in the territories of Vacuo."
"Yeah, that's where I come up first in the system. We both know that's not what you're asking."
"Indeed it is not."
Another stretch of nothing. A long intake of air, an equally as long exhale, and...
"Bandits." He spat.
The orphan backstory ?
"Please elaborate."
"I was born in a bandit tribe. It's why I don't show up anywhere before that."
Avoiding eye contact. Shame or deceit ?
"I see. I apologize if that is a period of your life you do not wish to revisit, but we need to establish if you pose a risk to this city, I hope you understand that."
"Yeah, I get it, no worries." The man seemed weary now, defeated even. He laid his head against the wall, his muscles perceptively loosening up.
"We have you traveling Vacuo's countryside for three years, then nothing for sixteen months before you reappear in Vale two winters ago. Could you shed some light on this period of absence from any CCT-connected area ?"
"What makes you think I'll answer you when I haven't before?" He flashed a grin from ear to ear, yet it felt weak in the Headmaster's eyes.
"I do not know what you are afraid of, but I do know that you can't keep living as you have been until now." Ozpin stared at the scarred man for a second. "You will be banished from Vale – and more likely than not from Atlas and Mistral as well, if not even Vacuo too – if you do not answer those question, mister Ash. And I dare hope that you do not wish for that to happen."
Will you take the easy way out, or double down ?
"Yeah… I like it here, can't lie about that. Sure beats the wilds…" He closed his eyes, seeming to think it over one last time before opening them anew and starting his tale.
"After I… left the tribe I grew up in, I roamed the deserts. I was a decent fighter so I eked out a living doing convoy escort and patrol jobs. Small time gigs, always moving and not once looking back. More and more, I… wanted to test myself, or I got addicted to the rush of combat, take your pick. Either way, and long story short, I went to places that have never known the touch of civilization." He smiled at that. A true and heartfelt smile, aimed only at himself, looking back to memories he cherished.
"I'll be honest, I had a blast. But, and you probably know this given your job and all, there's always a bigger, badder Grimm waiting in the shadows. I dodged my end daily out there, yet I got closer than I thought one too many times, and decided to call it quits. Ended up here by dumb luck and, erm… To get into the city proper, you gotta have some kind of ID, which is tough to get your hands on when you're in my position. And, well, one thing leading to another, I found myself a job as a DJ at Junior's."
Ozpin, attentive more than ever, noted his unease and lack of details concerning the his time in this alleged tribe and the recent years. Yet, it didn't disturb him much. While yes, that man in front of him had probably performed reprehensible acts – and may still be tackling with one debt or another – his alleged adventuring in the wildlands was far more attention-worthy to him.
Keep the pressure up.
"Living more than a year in those parts seems… farfetched at best, mister Ash. The Huntsmen I work with have trouble even passing through such places, and they operate in teams of four."
The man regained his bearings, his interest visibly picked. "I've wondered about that, yes. Seemed weird to me I didn't meet any people. Hell, even in Vacuo the few huntsmen I freelanced with were underwhelming. I've had time to think it through recently, and that last fight confirmed it for sure." The playful grin from the start of their meeting made its reappearance as he asked. "Wanna take a guess ?"
Finally.
"Your uncanny ability to manipulate aura." Ozpin delivered straight.
"You don't know the half of it." Cocky defined his attitude to a tee. He had what Ozpin wanted and he knew it.
"Please enlighten me."
"Why should I ? Or are you gonna pull the banishment card again ?" He now had an edge to his voice, a promise that he wouldn't admit defeat quietly.
Lure him in. Reaction will tell if he's a pawn.
"Because it is the right thing to do. Don't you want to work for the betterment of society ? I am currently in the position to give you the fame that is rightfully yours, should your claims prove true. There may even be rewards if you wish to come under my employ."
In the void that followed, the Headmaster locked his gaze on the detainee's. If he accepted for such flimsy reason as glory and material compensation, he was to be milked for all his worth then discarded. But if he accepted under the guise of altruism, he shall be disposed of as soon as possible. Had he truly wanted to offer his service to the community, he wouldn't have waited to meet one of the players in the hidden game Ozpin was playing. No, the only answer that would point towards his unawareness of the game would be-
"So that's why you're here. You want to know how I do what I do." His pupils were hard pinpricks by now, his smile gone. "You talk about fame and shit, all I hear is your crave for power. You want what I got for yourself, just so you can further whatever personal agenda you have. Tsk, should have known…"
Oh. Oh.
He kept going. "Well, I'm not giving you anything. Your threats are just that, threats. I can live out of those walls. Done it before." His tone started to deepen, becoming akin to a growl. "And I've got news for you. You ain't gonna-"
"Freedom of the Eye. Horizon's Expansion. The Crying Sea. Need I say more ?"
Stunned, Ash seemed to need a moment to process these words. When he finally retook possession of his faculties, he was fuming. "You knew ?! What the hell old man !? I was this close to sending you to kingdom come !"
"Please calm down, mister Ash."
"Fuck off ! You play with me, prodding and pulling with your words, well fuck you right back !"
I may have misjudged him a bit.
"My apologies, I did not wish to put you in such a state." He truly didn't, but during his time on this world, rarely had he had a choice as to how to extract the truth from a suspicious individual.
"Then why do all this ? Why grill me with your questions and hidden meanings ?" Luckily, he was cooling his anger down, forcibly restraining himself from exploding in Ozpin's face.
"Because I am but one man in a sea of unknowns. I needed to make sure you wouldn't share this knowledge with whoever bided the highest. I'm sure you can see how it would complicate things." While true, he mostly wanted to know if he was another pawn of hers. And now, while not completely sure, he felt safe in considering this 'Ash Ketchum' bare of any truly nefarious objective.
Breathing hard a couple of times, the man in question raised his eyes to meet his. "You're making it really difficult to trust anything that comes out of your mouth, you know ?"
A pained smile allowed itself on his oh so tired face. "So I've been told."
The two of them let the moment pass, reflecting on the last few minutes. Both relieved, but for wildly different reasons.
What now ? I can't let him out of my sight, she will surely know of him soon and I can't risk her getting her hands on another Gate. Ah… Glynda won't like it, but why not. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say.
"I believe your current employment has been put on hold due to Miss Xiao-Long's misbehavior."
"Probably. Junior will need time to repair. Why ?" The grey-haired man wasn't paying attention, more focused on his own thoughts as he was, but Ozpin now had a warm cup of coffee in hand. Mistralian Dream, his favorite.
"What I said earlier, about doing the right thing and working for the community, would you want to give it a try ?"
Again, a long look was exchanged. It seemed they were cut of the same cloth when patience was in play.
"What are we talking about exactly ?"
Don't make him guess, blunt is the way to go with this one.
"Teaching. At my school. Whatever you feel is safe to share." Ozpin could see the nascent interest in him. Maybe he'd found some good in this unexpected man. "Of course, you'll be eased into your position by my staff. I do not wish to overwhelm you with the responsibilities such a work entails. But I can definitely see your talents put to good use there."
"Could I choose my students ?"
Peculiar, but acceptable.
"Within reason, yes. What are you thinking ?"
"Get me out of here and we'll hash out the details." Again with the sly grin, he shook his cuffs to make his point.
Just need confirmation at this point.
"Do I take it you're interested ?"
The grin morphed into a lopsided smile, making the scars on his left cheek roll and crease. Ozpin realized that at no point during their conversation did he truly pay attention to his disfigurement, as extensive as it was.
"Yeah, I'm game."
First chapter, done.
I hope you liked it, and that it made you want to read the next one.
Which brings me to the subject of schedules. I'm gonna try to write a chapter every week, but knowing me, it might drop to one per month. If it goes lower than that I will warn you beforehand. I'll keep a chapter in advance so that I have a buffer if I can't write for more than a month.
Now, let's talk about the punctuation. Yes, I space the ! and ? because I find it easier to read. I don't think it changes a lot but I'm not a native English reader so I might be wrong. I'm not opposed to change my ways. Tell me in the reviews or in PM if it's more of a bother than I thought.
On that topic, I'd like to ask you some questions regarding this chapter, and I'm hoping about every other chapter. I'm not really confident my writing conveyed what I thought. So your feedback will be appreciated.
Here are my questions :
1) Did I portray the characters accurately ? Was there a point when you thought 'I can't picture this character doing/saying/thinking that' ?
2) Were the fight scenes engaging ? Could you picture what was happening ? If not, what broke the illusion ?
3) Did the conversation between Ozpin and Ash feel decisive ? Was the tension and sub-text understandable ? Were the stakes clear ? Most of all, did it sound logical ?
4) The music. I will probably keep inserting some here and there, and most likely from the electro genre. If it's not to your taste, it's completely fine, skip them. I just want to know if they felt appropriate to those who listened to them while reading. Or should I scrap the idea ?
Some words on what kind of story I hope to write.
[-SPOILER ALERT-]. Kinda.
First, it's not an SI. I share some traits and points of view with the MC, true, but that's not what matters. What matters, or I think so, are the underlaying problems an SI story usually brings up.
Will the MC be OP ? No. He'll be powerful, but won't steamroll the opposition.
Will everything go the MC's way ? I don't plan on writing a saddening story, but there's a balance between 'too good to be true' and 'harsh and unforgiving'. I aim to tread that fine line. We'll see if I succeed.
Will he charm everyone and get away with basically being a murder hobo ? That's a harder one. Will I manage to write a credible story ? One where the characters are held accountable for their acts, while not getting bogged down in extreme realism ? I have no clue.
Hope that answers some of your interrogations.
[-END OF SPOILER ALERT-]
Lastly, I have a confession to make. I never watched the show.
I know, that's weird. I'm writing a fanfiction without having seen the original material. But ! I've read a lot of the works on this site, so much in fact that I felt I knew the story by cross-referencing the major events in the fanfictions I had read. And I caught myself imagining stories taking place in this universe.
So there will probably be some differences in the events that you know, but I'm hoping it will be close enough that it won't disturb your reading experience.
That is all. Phew, long author note, heh ?
Thanks for reading !