A/N: I've decided that I'll update about twice a week, aiming for Wednesdays and Fridays. Also… I STILL NEED OCS! So PM me and give me your wonderful characters. Also, I appreciate the reviews, almost look forward to them, actually, it warms my heart *wipes away tear*…

And now, some reviews:

TheJokerKid16: York: "Batman wishes he could be me…"

SuperSaiyajin4Vegeta: York was convinced by Delta to take on some help. Besides, York has no connections except the club, nothing to hold against him, and he's used to being hunted, so if the word got out, he could go into hiding.

HavenofUmbar: Why does 'blazes' have to be a British thing? I say it all the time, and I live in New Mexico. Perhaps York is an eccentric guy.

Disclaimer: I don't own these shows, Rooster Teeth does

0oooooooooooo0

Father of Innovation

Yang

"Maine, I'm going to pummel you into the dust." York hissed, standing in a circle of chalk at the center of the ground floor of his home. Maine growled, fingers twitching and ready to grab the giant monstrosity on his back.

"Have they named their weapons yet?" Weiss asked her partner, who was currently eating cookies. The Beacon students that had arrived for this Saturday stood up in the loft, looking down at the fight below.

"Mhmpf." Ruby answered with a mouthful, then swallowed. "Maine 'told' me yesterday, while I was teaching him how to use the scythe."

"And York told me during our sword sessions." Pyrrha told them, looking as the two men circled each other.

"Looks like we got us a Mexican Standoff." York teased.

"Mexican standoff?" Sun asked.

Neptune shrugged. "Must be something from Earth."

York drew his sword and charged. The brute slid the Brute Shot off and sent a pillar of flame towards the gold Freelancer. With a jump, York flipped and shifted the sword into its double mode, and sent it spinning into his opponents' armor, knocking him back.

Maine sent a wild, heavy swing with the blade on the bottom at York. Who parried with his blade, then backed up and shifted the sword into the bow, sending arrows of Dust at Maine tried to dodge, which worked the first time, when he rolled to the side, but failed to move when a fire Dust arrow impacted with his shields, lowering them significantly.

"Ooo, that was good." Yang complimented. Maine sent a volley of grenades at York, blowing him off his feet, and shifted the weapon into its bladed staff form, using it as a lance as he charged towards York with a growl.

The gold Freelancer rolled to avoid the strike, and Maine swiftly flipped around, pressing a trigger and sending the spear flying towards York, who blocked it. "Now you don't have a weapon, Maine."

The brute raised a hand and the weapon came flying into his arm. "Magnets in the gauntlet, my own personal addition." Ruby said, sending Pyrrha a glance.

Down below, Maine had charged again, and they made contact, York's sword against the staff, and Maine pulled a trigger, which made the butt of the staff explode, giving his strike more power and sending York into the air.

Remnant's gravity is odd. When you get higher in the air, it seems a lot less than on the ground, giving you more airtime. York knew this well, and his sword melted to create his sniper. He raised it and rained fire rounds on the giant Freelancer below, then aimed it backward and fired, the momentum sending him towards the brute. He shifted the rifle back into a sword, a war-cry tearing through his throat as he descended like a falcon…

Only to be batted to the side by Maine's arm. The brute shifted his weapon into scythe-mode, approaching the fallen York, who pulled something from his back and shot it. Maine realized it was the knife/hook (Knook? Hife?)

With a whirring sound, York was pulled up into the rafters of the warehouse, firing his newly-shifted Barret. Maine took cover underneath the loft, then shot a grenade up there, which knocked York off. The gold Freelancer caught onto the beam he had been standing on, and hung there, trying to pull his other arm, which clutched his sword, up as well.

Maine looked at the struggling Freelancer, then shifted the scythe into its staff counterpart, then held it like a spear before pulling the trigger, the blast from the butt sending it spiraling towards York, striking his back.

With all the strange rules of Remnants gravity, York fell with a huge crash, and he didn't get back up. He groaned, then waited until Maine approached, shifting his Brute Shot into its usual form. As soon as he was close, Maine swung the blade for his neck in what was supposed to be the killing blow, planning to stop just as the tip touched York.

The fallen Freelancer swung his blade to block it, then swept Maine's legs out from under him, making the brute fall to the ground. York rolled to his feet and had a blade to Maine's neck in an instant. "Dead."

The students up above clapped as York helped the giant to his feet. Maine growled, disappointed he'd let himself be beat.

Yang was the first down. "So, I heard you named your weapons. Care to share?"

York shrugged. "I named it Firestorm's Dawn, matches the color and everything." A few compliments on the name were passed around, and Yang turned to Maine.

The brute growled, then pointed to the words etched along the barrel. Brute's Regret it read. Yang nodded. "Alright, then."

York's armor collapsed into its backpack form and his weapon melted into the phone-size mode, which he slipped into his back pocket. "We're going out tonight. All of us. Get back to Beacon and put on something that'll hide your identities, then meet us by the docks." York told everyone. "I overheard some guys in the club talking. Roman's going to be hitting them tonight."

"Wait, you heard about that, too?" Weiss asked. "We were planning on telling you, too."

"I just hope that girl Neo is there, too." Yang growled.

York did a double take. "Neo?"

"Yeah, she's this girl that never speaks, and has white, brown, and pink clothes, hair, and eyes."

"I know who she is!" York told them. "We're friends. She's working with Torchwick?"

Ruby nodded. "She's helped him escape and almost killed Yang."

York shook his head. "Why is it always the mute ones?"

Maine growled, voicing his resentment to that remark.

"You did change, Maine. Perhaps Neo can, too." York said, more to himself. "We go on as planned. If Neo shows, I'll face her. Understood?"

Everyone nodded. "Alright, let's start planning. We're going to be using earpieces."

"Codenames?" Sun questioned eagerly.

York nodded. "Codenames."

The Faunus let out a squeal. "Awesome!"

A plan was formed, the time was set. 9:00 at the docks. York walked them out of the warehouse, then felt the odd feeling of being watched. He looked up to see a young man in a grey hoodie crouched on top of a pole. Rowan was Balanced perfectly on the pole.

"I came over to talk to you, heard some fighting." He explained. "I saw you in the suit."

York sighed. "Great. Now, too many people know about me. Can you keep it a secret?"

Rowan nodded. "But I'm coming with you. You're going to need all the help you can get. Roman's gotten hold of an Atlesian Paladin." He growled. "Figures. Atlas builds a powerful Mech, and loses it to Roman. Anyway, it could be there tonight."

"Didn't RWBY take one down?"

"Yeah, but it wasn't easy from what I heard, and he still got away." The young man told him.

"He won't this time."

0oooooooooooo0

Docks

York

"This is Panther to Blaze." Blake's voice crackled in York's ear. "I have eyes on White Fang members."

"Blaze to all units." York said into the mic. "I have eyes on the Bogeys, five right now. I have a straight shot on at least three before the first hits the ground."

"Spartan to New Freelancers. I have clear shots on three fang, two by fire dust crates, and another searching the perimeter." Pyrrha's voice spoke.

"Acknowledged, Spartan. Let's wait for a few more to show up."

"I wish Penny was here." Ruby said absently. "She kicked these guys' butts last time."

"What was that, Reaper?" York asked.

"Sorry, Blaze. Nothing important." She amended. "If wishes were horses…"

"Beggars would ride." York said, completing the phrase he'd taught her during his lessons on his world.

"Let's stay on topic. And that topic is kicking these guys into next week." Yang hissed.

"Copy that, Dynamo. Is ground force one and two ready?"

"Affirmative, Blaze." Jaune told him, and Maine growled.

"Copy that. Knight and Eagle, prepare for ground assault. Reaper, Spartan, what's your current head count."

"Reaper to Blaze, I count seventeen in my corner."

"Spartan, I count twenty.

"That's about thirty down below. Let's shorten that out. Snipers, let's go to work.

York took aim down below and dropped three Fang members with non-lethal but incapacitating shots. Chaos erupted as the docks exploded into movement.

"Hellfire to Blaze, we need covering fire."

"Right, stealth team, move in." York ordered as he picked off another couple Fang members. One he knew wouldn't be getting up. He could see flashes of movement while Ren, Blake, and Neptune were sneaking around and taking out the Fang members he couldn't do himself due to cover.

After two minutes, he shot another fang member, then heard a cough, one meant to announce one's presence. He turned onto his back and saw a young man, small but with very intelligent bright green eyes. He was dressed like he was headed for a concert, and had six VPD officers in arrow formation around him.

"Nice to finally meet you, Gargoyle." The teen said, a flute in hand as if about to play. "I'm here to arrest you, so please don't cause a ruckus."

York activated the mic for the radio. "Blaze to New Freelancers. I've run into a… complication. Continue as planned, and send in teams on and two."

"Acknowledged, Blaze. Do you need assistance?" Rowan asked. The radio crackled through the speakers.

"We'll see, Hellfire." York said solemnly, then shifted the rifle into a sword, holding it at the ready. "I don't want to hurt you, but I can't be taken in, not before I assure my team is safe and Torchwick is defeated." He told the teen

"I don't think you have a choice." One of the police told him.

"Gargoyle." The boy started.

York groaned. "Can you guys stop calling me that? Call me Blaze, Foxtrot-12, I don't care, just not some stupid nickname like 'the Gargoyle'."

"Alright, Blaze." The teen continued. "My name is Echo Mozarch, and under the name of the Vale Police Department and Atlas Academy, you are under arrest for acting as a vigilante. And for the murder of three men."

"Those men died because they would kill me. I have never shot to kill unless they were about to do so." York protested. "Self-defense."

"You lie, all death's hurt a family, someone innocent, through your carelessness, someone is always hurt." Echo hissed, then looked to his men. "Take him."

Three police officers approached, all armed with nightsticks and standard pistols, though one had a sword, and another a steel bow staff.

York, far left is prepping fire, dodge right. Delta assisted. York moved in time for the bullet to miss its mark. He blocked the swordsman and ducked another strike, then hit the officer he'd blocked across the face, knocking the man out cold. He sent the man's nightstick, which he had liberated from his belt, into the gunman's stomach, then blocked the staff and sliced the man in the ribs, enough to incapacitate the seemingly aura-less officer.

York turned and sent a kick into the last man, sending him onto the ground. "Piece of advice, don't get up." He said to the trio, then looked up at Echo, who was whistling, a soft glow surrounding a burly officer with a club. He stepped forward, lightning fast, and met York with a laugh.

York, I believe this information may prove useful. It seems Echo's Semblance is to enhance his fellow teammates by whistling.

How does that help me? York questioned as he ducked to dodge a club swing for his head. He swung his legs to trip the officer, but he jumped, way too easily for his size, and York found himself flung forward by a strong strike from the officer. York growled as his shields flared and died. He knew he needed to get away from any harm so they could recharge, so he activated his active camo.

"Glasses on, boys." Echo said to his men, pulling on a pair of infrared goggles from somewhere on his person, the others following suite. He looked directly at York as he took cover behind a vent, waiting for the recharge.

Agent York, this task force seems equipped with goggles able to see through active camouflage.

"Surround him, don't take your eyes off of him."

But it was too late, York's shields had recharged. He shimmered into view and sent a flying kick into a female officer's torso, which sent her into a wall, then turned and slammed the pommel of his sword into the head of another, knocking him out cold.

Whistling another tune, the final officer began to glow with Echo's blessing, and he spirted forward, a broadsword in hand. He managed to get in two strikes, sending York's shield into the red. The Freelancer cursed, then managed to block the third strike, then disengaged, taking a few steps back.

The man advanced, and their blades met with a clang, then York slid the swords to the side and kicked to man in the side. With that strike the officer loosened his hold, and York flicked the blade, twisting it out of the man's hand, then slamming the pommel into the man's head.

Finally, Echo held his flute at the ready, waiting for York to strike.

"Panther to Blaze. Torchwick's getting away!"

York flipped around to see Torchwick flying away on an airship. He cursed, then shifted his sword into the Barret. He tried to aim at the criminal, but the man was out of sight and soon passed behind some buildings.

"I'm not your enemy, kid." York said. "He just got away. Perhaps we could have grabbed him if you hadn't been focused on me."

"I was sent to bring you in, Blaze." The young man told him. "And that's what's going to happen." With the press of a button, the flute extended into a six-foot long staff.

York sighed and shifted Firestorm into its double-sword mode. Echo charged, and soon met York's own blade. The Freelancer struck, a powerful blow that, when it impacted the staff, sent the frail boy back a few feet, but he regained his position, then sent of flurry of strikes, more than half hitting York, the fifth depleting his shields.

Delta began highlighting York's best moves, and York was able to defend himself. The boy shifted to the left, striking the vigilante's shoulder, but the Freelancer struck the boy's head with the flat of his blade, hard.

Apparently his Semblance had used much of his Aura reserves because the frail boy fell to the ground, knocked out from the blow.

"Well, that was anti-climactic." York said.

Rowan's voice crackled over the radio. "Hellfire to Blaze. You make it?"

"Affirmative, Hellfire." York smiled, collapsing his weapon into its civilian mode and turning away, leaving the moaning VPD officers and Echo Mozarch on the ground. Torchwick had escaped, but at least Neo hadn't arrived. York sighed. "Let's get back, I need a drink."

"Victory or drowning your sorrows drink?"

York groaned. "Can't it be a little of both?"

"Panther to Blaze. What's our next move?" Blake's voice crackled over the earpiece.

York groaned. "Rendezvous back at the Father of Innovation. We'll get him next time."