Prologue
"Legends. Stories scattered through time. Mankind has grown quite fond of recounting the exploits of heroes and villains, forgetting so easily that we are remnants, byproducts, of a forgotten past.
Man, born from dust, was strong, wise, and resourceful, but he was born into an unforgiving world. An inevitable darkness — creatures of destruction — the creatures of Grimm - set their sights on man and all of his creations. These forces clashed, and it seemed the darkness was intent on returning man's brief existence to the void.
However, even the smallest spark of hope is enough to ignite change, and in time, man's passion, resourcefulness, and ingenuity led them to the tools that would help even the odds. This power was appropriately named "Dust".
Nature's wrath in hand, man lit their way through the darkness, and in the shadow's absence came strength, civilization, and most importantly, life.
But even the most brilliant lights eventually flicker and die. And when they are gone... darkness will return."
That was how the world was introduced to RWBY. A team of four talented girls who would go on to get involved with maidens of the seasons with unimaginable power, witches who controlled monsters made of shadow, immortal wizards kept alive to kill said witches via taking someone else's body for their own before hoping the immortal witch dies via luck, gods with less ability to understand humans than a bear, and different bladed weapons which are also guns.
Each one of these girls were unique, with character traits that would push them onwards towards their quest to save the world. Their fellows, JN_R, would follow them as well, each having their own unique traits and secrets connected to the darkness hidden within Remnant. Each one of these unique people had their own motivations, with powers far beyond their peers back at Beacon.
In another story, they'd be the main focus.
But this isn't about Teams RWBY and JN_R. This is not a story of their exploits, their trials, or their goals.
This is a story of a different group.
A group which, in their story, would've been but a silhouette in the background, solely to fill space. A group of fairly average huntsmen- and huntresses-in-training. Not important, not relevant, not necessary. They aren't the ones who go save the world or get incredible power.
They are, however, human beings.
And as such, why should they be ignored for the sake of a globe-trotting story?
This is the story of Team BLUE.
A fairly average team in the grand scheme of things, but dedicated enough in their goals to become hunters of the dark.
They go through a fair share of hardships (who wouldn't?), but not on the level of a terrorist cell, magic immortal witches, or alternate realities.
More so on the level of unfinished homework, lost equipment, and teen love.
A story of normal teenagers in a decidedly extraordinary world.
BLUE
Chapter 1
Welcome to Beacon, Hope You Enjoy Your Stay!
"Hello, and welcome to Beacon."
A hologram sprouted up from seemingly nowhere, and the majority of the students standing within the Bullhead looked over.
Not all of them, because teenagers would naturally be distracted by peers of the opposite gender, peers of the same gender, peers of-
Actually, just other people in general.
There was even one courageous girl ogling the hologram lady, whose eyes could probably pierce through solid steel and send misbehaving children to their early demise.
As the lady continued talking, introducing herself as Glynda Goodwitch (to be addressed as Miss Goodwitch, lest you wish to eat a healthy amount of floor), continuing on to speak of the prestige of Beacon and being a Huntsman or Huntress, before ending the speech off with a nice sentiment of the future.
Some people listened.
Unfortunately, some people constituted about 5% of the audience, with the rest being excited to fight beings of pure darkness, fight each other, and find love.
Either that, or realize someone vomited on their shoes.
Good thing Sir Vomit the First wasn't anywhere near Evan Bronze, who was busy reading "A Guide To Improving Your Skills In Remnant Fighter 13 Deluxe (Unofficial)". Reading a page on advanced combo techniques and how to improve one's execution seemed to engross Evan, as he ignored everyone else chattering on about school, fights, and other prospective students, including a certain red-haired celebrity.
His hair was not, in fact, bronze. As a matter of fact, it was dark-blue. Nor was any of his clothing bronze. They were a mash of different blues and whites, with a blue shirt over a white hoodie, a blue hat with white stripes going across the brim, blue sweatpants with white lettering, and red shoes.
(The red shoes were on sale one time, and came with a copy of Remnant Fighter Xtreme.)
"…the city sure is good-looking." Evan looked outside, admiring the view underneath his Bullhead. The city of Vale of the Vale Kingdom was indeed beautiful, almost as beautiful as its name was confusing. With buildings closely knit like yarn in a toque, its citizens of different vibrant colours and sizes, and various other tourists constantly going in and out, it deserved its reputation as the center of Remnant. In fact, Evan was thinking he'd draw a picture when he had the ti-
"Hey, is that Pyrrha Nikos?"
"Wait, it is? Omigodimsuchafan-"
"You think she's signing autographs?"
Evan ignored everyone going on about Pyrrha Nikos. She wasn't that good, anyways!
Sure, she may have never lost a match even without using a Semblance, and maybe she's a world-reknown champion, but so?
He could take her in a 1v1.
Totally.
"You're thinking of something stupid, aren't you?"
A teen holding an impossible tacky katana sat down next to Evan, and took a drink of water out of a bottle he seemed to have been carrying with him.
"Nope," Evan replied all too quickly.
Perhaps it was suspicious, but no one could ever fool Blanc Dorado. While he wasn't exactly the greatest fighter of all time or a genius, Blanc always had an unnatural ability to tell if someone was lying. Evan had even joked about it being his Semblance, as he was simply too good at reading cues as small as a blink being a nanosecond too fast.
That skill tended to be forgotten whenever anyone saw him in person however, as his clothes and weapon were simply far too tacky. Black and red cape, a foot-long collar, boots with gold lacings, a suit so expensive you could smell the money pouring out of its tag, and dress pants that could be displayed in a store for a few thousand Lien and still be deemed too cheap. That's not to mention his Katana, which had precious jewels decorating its sheathe, and a black blade with runes etched into it.
At least his handgun was plain, though Evan knew it was imported from Atlas at a price that could bribe the Grimm to tap-dance and become vegan.
"…" Blanc sighed, and decided to drop the topic. "Looking forward to Beacon?"
"Yeah! I'll finally get a date with this!" Evan yelled without a hint of irony.
"Really? Nothing about how we are 'the ones who protect the future' and all that?" Even as he said those words, Blanc oozed sarcasm dry enough to burn a desert.
"Who cares about that? All I'm worried about right now is how long I'll live and whether I'll have a wife by then! Ya get me, right man?" Once more, Evan had not a smidge of irony in his worries. His pathetic, pathetic worries.
"…moving on, have you seen Olivier?" Even though- no, because Blanc had lived with Evan for a long time, he wished to avoid listening to Evan yell about women and death as earnestly as one would yell about their greatest goals and dreams.
"Nope! Dunno where she is.
…you think she's hitting on someone?"
"It's certainly possible." Blanc closed his eyes in disappointed acceptance, remembering exactly what type of person Olivier was. Perhaps the question shouldn't have been "where is Olivier", but rather "who is Olivier flirting with".
However, it seemed that Olivier had either decided to leave everyone alone, or had already gotten rejected.
Probably the second, though no one could ever tell.
"Sup, guys!" As always, Olivier had the same, overly cheerful expression she wore to everything. Her weapon (a lavender shotgun which had a clear line separating the shotgun in half) sat in her backpack, and as always she wore lavender-themed clothing. Lavender shoes, dark-purple leggings with a flower-adorned skirt, lavender hair cut to the shoulders, a lavender jacket with a purple hoodie underneath (limited-edition Pumpkin Pete merchandise, only gained from buying a hundred boxes within a certain timeframe) and a lavender watch (a gift from her aunt, who was apparently some kind of journalist in Vale), it was clear Olivier loved the flower. Quite fitting, considering her last name.
Her skill in fighting had gained her the position of fifth in her school, and some had taken to calling her the 'Bloody Lavender' due to her ferocity during battles.
That being said, the combat prep school she was from wasn't exactly the best in Vale, let alone the world. The kids there had trouble flaring their Aura correctly, and weapons tended to fall apart during combat.
As such, out of her entire year (fifty and then some), only eight graduated, her included.
Obviously, the other four best students graduated, but so too did Evan and Blanc. Blanc's theoretical netted him a high average, while Evan had mediocre grades overall, but they were consistent. Though, being a friend of Blanc's may have helped, as his sister knew the principal and also supplied plenty of Lien ("So your school doesn't close down before you graduate, Blanc!"). Money may not buy happiness, but it certainly does grudging approval.
"Hello there," Blanc responded with the usual dull tone, picked up by a streamer he watched once upon a time.
"How're ya holdin' together, Lav?" In contrast, Evan spoke with slang and casual flow.
"Pretty good! Everyone here's so cute, though…" Olivier pouted, having never gone through an emo phase. "Called my mum and dad when we left, but the signal got all spotty." An exaggerated sigh left Olivier.
"Ah, lag. The one thing that kills all my games." Being a fighting game enthusiast, Evan naturally blamed lag whenever he lost a match. He even used it to explain his mediocre win/loss ratio (50/50) and tried to use it to get his parents to buy a new router.
Suffice to say, it didn't work all too well.
"Evan, please do try and avoid sinking all of your time into Remnant Fighter." Blanc, being the more reasonable voice of the group, began reminding Evan for the seventh time that day, "You barely graduated, and I have far too few friends to lose one to the ultimate fate known as flunking."
"It's fiiiiine…" And as always, Evan brushed it aside. "Even then, I'll always have my eSports career to back me up!"
No, you won't…
Olivier and Blanc both looked at Evan with eyes of pity. Pity and fear, for they both knew Evan had not taken the warning to heed.
"E-Evan, you really should listen to Blanc! After all, it'd suck if you ended up getting kicked out!" Perhaps it was the worry from the prospect of Evan becoming a shut-in, but Olivier stuttered. A true rarity, something that should've been recorded and kept for centuries.
Alas, nobody bothered to have their phone open and record audio at the same time, and such an important piece of history was lost forever, never to be seen again.
"Don't worry! I'll be fine~" And yet, Evan still ignored the many warnings and red flags.
You really won't…
"Oh, the Bullhead's landing!" Olivier ran over to the window, before staring at something outside.
"What is it?" In contrast, Blanc walked over calmly, not exactly one to be 'hyped' or 'excited'. Yet, he too went silent upon seeing the view outside.
"What's up?" Evan walked over, and he too went silent.
"Whoa…" A fourth person exclaimed.
"Hm?"
"Huh?"
"Hey, you're cute!"
"W-what?!" Slam.
"…she fainted."
"Yup."
"Wonder why she reacted like that~"
"…"
"…"
"Heh heh heh…"
"Sorry for Olivier."
"Sorry 'bout her."
As always, Blanc and Evan automatically apologized in Olivier's steed, for the day she apologized was the day the world would fall into the depths of Hell.
"N-no, it's alright…" The newcomer scratched the back of her head, looking anywhere but at the three. "I-it was just unexpected…"
She was far shorter than the others, and her admittedly good posture didn't help hide it.
Though she was looking down, her eyes had a hint of blue in them. One pupil seemed a little lighter than the other, however.
Her clothes were not particularly flashy (just a sweater and dark blue jeans with designer boots), and her weapon was nowhere in sight. Instead, she carried a metal briefcase with her, which seemed just a little too heavy as she seemed to lean just a little, which made her height seem all the less imposing.
Her hair was a light grey, though it was clearly not because of age. Each strand seemed incredibly well-cared for (not that Evan noticed), though some seemed to have curled just a little.
The cause was apparent when she began fidgeting with her hair, spinning it around her index finger.
A well-worn watch with a rocky texture popped out of her sweater as she did so.
All in all, the best way to describe her would be 'socially awkward'.
And as such-
"Aw~" Olivier exclaimed, immediately attempting to run over and presumably hug the new girl, but getting held back by Blanc and Evan (Tactical Hold #3 from Plan G of Olivier Control). "You're even cuter than I thought!"
"H-hu-huh-" The newcomer immediately began hyperventilating from the praise.
"Olivier, stop scaring her."
"Aw, you're no fun, Blanc~"
Nevertheless, Olivier had the conscience to realize that she was having a negative impact on the newcomer's health.
"Take a moment," Blanc reassured the newcomer, "We are not exactly in a hurry right now."
"U-u-uh…" The new girl stuttered, leaning a little from the weighty briefcase, "I- I'm A-Alex… Nice t-to meet you…"
She shook a little from the social interaction, clamming up from the few words.
"Blanc Dorado."
"Olivier Lavender, but you can just call me Lav~"
"The name's Evan! Evan Bronze! Anything's fine!"
The four stood there for a few seconds in silence, before Evan started a proper conversation.
"So, do you play any games?"
"Y-y-yea-" And Evan immediately interrupted, the possibility of finding a fellow gamer being far too appealing to him.
"Which ones?"
"T-Tetris…"
Crack.
"O-oh, I see…" Evan walked to a seat and quietly sobbed.
"S-sorry…" Alex quickly bowed in apology, prompting Blanc to raise an eyebrow.
"It's just a preference of games. No need to apologize to him-" Blanc looked over at Evan and immediately regretted it.
"Why…" Evan was currently on the floor, sobbing and moaning as if someone had punched him in the gut.
"…definitely do not apologize to him. As a matter of fact, try your hardest to make him suffer." The chill from those words sent shivers through Alex's spine, while Evan remained oblivious and Olivier remained just as cheery as usual.
"So, Alex, what else do you like? Battling? Cooking? Romance?" Olivier's question once again turned Alex into a tomato, while Blanc sighed and dragged Evan up.
"W-Wh-eh-uh-"
"We can continue this later, Olivier. The Bullhead's landed." Blanc slapped Evan on the neck, who shook himself a little to regain some sense.
"Ah, that's too bad~," Olivier grinned and waved to Alex. "See you around, then!"
"Y-y-yes…" Alex just stared as the trio began walking off, Evan talking more about a recent tournament with Olivier while Blanc checked his Scroll.
"…w-what just happened?"
"…it is up to you to take the first step."
A polite applause filled the hall, various aspiring hunters inspired by the speech, and just as many questioned whether or not the speech made sense in the first place.
The silver-haired headmaster walked off the stage, and the blonde lady from earlier took his place, explaining the protocol for initiation and sleeping arrangements. Most of the students listened here, their hopes and dreams dependent on their actions here.
Most people weren't Evan Bronze, and as such were not idiots.
"Hold on, they're nerfing Bluez? Goddamnit, that's my secondary!" The idiot in question was currently reading the changelog for Remnant Fighter 13 Deluxe, constantly flip-flopping between glee and annoyance.
"You didn't listen, did you?" Blanc stared at Evan, in awe at how little he was taking his potential expulsion seriously.
"Eh, doesn't matter. Sleep on floor, go to Green Forest, and hit on people. Nothing important." Evan followed Olivier and Blanc, who had both listened to Miss Goodwitch (the aforementioned hologram lady), and as such knew what to do and where to go.
"It's a little more than that, Evan…" Olivier felt some sweat building up on her forehead as she wondered how long Evan would last.
"We need to go find our lockers, get our new Scrolls, and check the front board for our Initiation schedule. You would've known this," and Blanc glared at Evan here, "If you weren't reading change logs for a video game during what could've been quite possibly the most important assembly of your life."
Even Olivier shivered a little at the resentment Blanc had towards Evan right then and there.
"Well, we're here!" Olivier grinned, spun around and gestured at the lockers. "Time to go find people to date! Cya~", and she ran off.
"Wait, hold on- ah, she'll be fine." Evan walked in second, dragging a small suitcase with him. "Anyways, I'll go put my rifle away. What 'bout you, Blanc?"
"…I don't need to put away this sword, so I'll go pick up our Scrolls." He swung a giant knapsack over his shoulder while dragging a giant suitcase with another backpack hooked onto the handles. "Make sure that Olivier doesn't put someone into a catatonic state."
"Yessir!" Evan jokingly saluted, and sauntered off into the locker room, narrowly dodging a tall scraggly blonde.
"Oop…" Noting to himself to be more careful, Evan continued weaving through the huge group of first-years, avoiding the giant blob surrounding two girls.
"Touché." With that and a scornful glare at Pyrrha Nikos, he looked at the locked numbers.
"114, 115, 116… there!" He stopped at Locker No. 117 and looked at the scribbled number on his palm.
"0, 3, 1… 8!" The lock opened with the final number, and the locker opened to reveal…
"Don't know what I was expecting."… an empty locker.
"Eh." Evan grabbed a rifle on his back (light-blue base, with dark blue and white used to create a swirl-like design on the outside. Coincidentally, the rifle did not actually transform, as Evan wasn't smart enough to make a rifle that could transform without breaking something or straining a part too much. In the end, he settled for working on his CQC.) and shoved it into the locker, taking three attempts before he got a good position.
"That'll do!" The rifle was sitting stock-up on the back, with spare ammo rounds sitting upon the right side of the locker.
He watched his handiwork for a moment, before slamming his locker shut and shoving the lock in an approximation to a correct position. "Anyways, gotta go find Lav!"
Olivier was busy chatting with a group of girls, all of whom were staring at her with extreme disdain.
"Oi, Lav! Gotta go grab our scrolls!"
She looked over at Evan and waved to the group, who all sighed in relief. "See you all later~"
They half-heartedly answered in the affirmative, though that was clearly out of politeness rather than genuine hope.
"Hey, Evan! Found your locker, huh?"
"Yup! Shoved my rifle and ammo in there. You?"
"Oh, I put some spare clothes and my shotgun in there." She brushed some dust off her jacket. "Didn't bring spare ammo with me, thought I'd take some from the storage room."
"You even allowed to do that?" Evan seemed concerned, a rarity.
"Yeah, Miss Goodwitch said so!"
"Oh. Hey, there's Blanc!" He waved Blanc over while shouting.
"Yoooo! Over here!"
"I could've heard you even if you yelled with half the energy, Evan." Blanc massaged his ears but quickly recovered. "Here's the Scrolls."
1, 2, 3. Each seemed much sleeker than their old Scrolls, and there seemed to be more cameras in the back.
"Woah, this thing's cool!" Olivier began fidgeting with it, opening the scroll and immediately personalizing it with a lavender background.
"Yeah! Dunno why there're three cameras in the back, though." Evan opened an app and immediately began typing in various emulator names.
"It improves the quality and allows for wider ranges of sight." Blanc simply pocketed his Scroll. "I already checked the initiation schedule. It seems it's split by school, as we're all in Group 5."
"Really!?" The two others exclaimed at the same time. "YOOOOO-"
"Good grief-" Blanc shoved his fingers into his ears. "Please, I'll go deaf if you keep that up."
"You'll be fiiiine~" The two took on a sing-song voice, both with grins smug enough to make a monk advocate for nuclear weapons.
"…anyhow, I suppose that leaves us with the sleeping arrangements." The three had found their way back to the grand hall, with Blanc carrying a shiny metal suitcase, Olivier dragging her nice lavender-decorated suitcase by the handle, and Evan dragging his patched-up duffel bag on the floor.
"Corner?" Evan pointed at a somewhat-empty corner, with only a few students huddled at the side.
"Nah, too far from the entrance. I say right here!" Olivier pointed to the left, where a bunch of friend groups were chatting animatedly with one another about Beacon, their goals, and their fears.
"That's too close. We'll get trampled come the morning. I say middle left. Anyone in the back is most likely too reserved to disturb us, and if we wake early, we can move to the lockers with little impediment." Blanc pointed to the location he was speaking of, an empty area in the middle while explaining his logic.
"Eh…" Olivier looked longingly at the large group of people, while Evan didn't seem to care. "Whatever you say, Blanc!" He shrugged and began dragging his duffel bag on the floor, ignoring the slight tearing on the bottom.
Olivier thought for a moment, but ultimately agreed and followed Blanc, pulling her suitcase along with her, the wheels not bouncing at all on the pristine floor.
It took the three over an hour to finish getting ready for lights out, with Blanc already lying in his sleeping bag within fifteen minutes ("We need to be at maximum energy for tomorrow, lest we fall asleep while fighting Grimm"), Olivier running off to find other girls to badger ("Have you ever seen so many pretty people in one area, Evan?!") and Evan joining her promptly.
They spent thirty minutes running around and getting rejected (well, Evan certainly did, while Olivier had a higher success rate (still 0%, but more so because it was 10 PM and the sun had set long ago)) before finally preparing for the night, and getting into their bags at 10:45 PM.
"I see you've finally returned." Blanc, as always, had not fallen asleep. Not from a lack of effort, for he had already had his serotonin pills, but rather from excitement that he hid incredibly well. "Congratulations, you've spent an hour and thirty minutes running around. Would you like an award?"
"I'm honoured!" Evan jokingly played along, even doing a theatrical bow.
"Thanks!" Olivier stretched out her hand, and Blanc placed a single Lien card in her hand.
"You dropped it when running around," Blanc explained, rubbing his eyes, "Make sure you put it into your purse."
"Don't worry, I will!" Olivier beamed and shoved the card into her bag.
"Wait, what about the award?"
"...of course, Evan. Of course."
"Wait I want my award-"
"Evan, it's a joke." Blanc deadpanned, staring right into Evan's eyes.
"O-oh." Evan visibly darkened upon that, before crawling into his sleeping bag.
"Nighty night, then!" Olivier jumped right into her bag, immediately regretting the decision as she got stuck and had to wiggle herself around until her head stuck back out.
"Good night." "Night, too!" Blanc and Evan were used to this, as Olivier normally pulled this during sleepovers when they were younger, and as such didn't react all too much.
The three finally went quiet, and Blanc began drifting off…
…
…
…
…-
" What in the world is going on over here?! Don't you realize some of us are trying to sleep?" A harsh voice rang out before an argument began to echo in Blanc's ears.
"Oh, not you again!" The first voice and a new one both lamented at the same time, with a new, younger voice piping in with "Shh," in perhaps the most useless variation of the sentiment, "Guys, she's right! Some of us are trying to sleep here!"
"Oh, now you're on my side!"
"I was always on your side!"
The argument continued, Blanc realizing far too late he had left his earplugs at home. He attempted to use a pillow, but the argument had begun to get more heated and all it really did was tire his hands out and make his neck uncomfortable.
"...Welcome to Beacon, I suppose."
Author's Note:
I probably won't be using this often.
What would I have to say, anyways? "So, this chapter was done because of this and that and my thought process behind that was this-" and so on and so forth.
With that said, I feel that a note is required here, if only to warn readers of what they're about to read.
There's a TLDR at the end if you so wish.
So, BLUE. This story's meant to be my own take on the OC Team idea that always seems to pop up around this site. You know, the one where someone makes their own characters, plops them in, and proceeds to have the characters wreak havoc on what is clearly the greatest modern piece of storytelling of our time.
On a serious note, I haven't seen any fanfiction on this site which creates an OC Team that doesn't change the plot to fit its needs.
It makes sense, I suppose. RWBY Volume 3 is one hell of a ride, shifting the tone suddenly and no one wants bad things to happen to their favorite characters!
Well, that's stupid, I say with my pea-brain, and I don't like it!
As such, so birthed BLUE.
The goal here, as a fanfiction, is to avoid messing with the plot points of RWBY (though some events will be shifted, not to facilitate Team BLUE, but rather to make the events feel more real and less like an AI generated random scenarios) and make a group of characters that the reader hopefully gets attached to, but never feel that they're stealing the spotlight from the actual MCs (RWBY and JNPR).
While I presume anyone who reads this has already seen RWBY or at least has an understanding of how the series works, I wish to set some more ground rules. As such, the next few chapters will have some exposition via the classes to more clearly set the stage and the rules of how the world will work here.
RWBY (the show) never really established certain Semblances and how Aura works until far later, and I still think they don't know how Aura works. As such, I will set my own rules for how that works, as well as nail down some Semblances to make life far simpler for both myself and the reader.
Anyways, TLDR;
This story will NOT change the main plot of RWBY, with exceptions to make the story flow more.
This story will NOT be using Rooster Teeth's Aura rules to make life easier and allow for some more interesting ideas.
Some Semblances will be changed to make my life easier.
In short, this story is about a group of Background-Chans living their greatest school lives.
Review, slander, punch me through my monitor, I care not. Just bring some criticism in turn that I can use to improve as a writer.
With regards,
Fails Salot
(Note: I don't have a beta. It sucks, but no one I know is going to read a giant document about a series they don't even watch. So, there most definitely will be problems with this, as I wrote it over three months without anyone to keep me from going all over the place.)
(Second Note: I recognize I use the actual transcript for RWBY various times. The prologue's usage was simply as a tone-setter for myself, while the argument at the end was for the sake of accuracy. Hopefully the DMCA gods do not strike me down from my lofty position above the clouds for such transgression.)
(Note Three: The Finale: I also posted on AO3, so don't go spam me saying I copied a "failssalot". That is me, and I am it.)