"You can nullify aura?!"
"Kinda?" Hank shrugged. "It's not that I nullify it it's more that Nexus punches overload someone's aura and punches right through it. It's like the saying "Cutting with a hot knife through butter" except instead of a hot knife, it's a glowing 1000 degree one."
"And you figured that how exactly?"
"Well, a few more bandit gangs ambushed me during my travels north." The Mutant leaned into his seat. "Small fry dumbasses are not really worth mentioning. Most of their dudes tended to be normal but the 'Elites' and Bosses tended to have it."
"Rouge Huntsman...figures."
"Yeah well you know how this song and dance goes, they talk hot shit, I punch their head off, and the rest get brutalized, just another day at the office."
"So it seems." the Interrogator tapped his fingers against the table. "So, you were traveling up through Tropical Forests of southern Mistral, what else of interest happened?"
"Well…" Hank chuckled.
"Ohhh that's just lovely!"
It's been almost a week since the Jihz incident and Hank has been traveling across the lands with the Jeep. Though he was still in a jungle, he hoped that he would get to the nearest town soon since the last three villages had been ruins.
Honestly, he never understood why the villages weren't defended in the first place, like he understood they existed in the middle of nowhere as a sort of road stop, however, you'd think that every town would be fortified to shit. You know crocodile-filled moats, outer walls, gun nests with 50 brownings, inner walls, maybe a minefield.
But nooooo, 'let's leave our village COMPLETELY open, with maybe some dork with weird weapons helping us by chance.'
What could POSSIBLY go wrong, in this Grimm-infested world?
Regardless this wasn't the current issue Hank was faced with.
His problem is that the current path was blocked.
From what he could guess the rain of yesterday caused a landslide and now the main road was blocked off by trees, dirt, and other shit. While this was the main road from what he had understood back in San Jacet apparently most travel is either done by sea or airships.
So now he was forced to find an alternate route.
Driving backward while growling, he looked over the place trying to find a junction he might have missed or even another lane.
"Yeah no this is Fiiiiiine this is really fine, this is REALLY FUCKING fine. I'm mad? No no no, totally not mad. I'm zen, I'm calm I'm FUCKING chill. I'm totally not wishing whoever caused this to get vivisected while sodomized by hedge clippers in an American jail. Totally no road rage at all."
Murderous thoughts and visions of mutilations lingered in the psychotic mutant's mind, waiting to absolutely fucking massacre the first thing he comes across.
That's when his eyebrows shot up slightly
"Dafuq?"
Though overgrown and green foliage, Hank noticed some...road tracks?
They were made of stone, clearly made of rhyolites, and formed in a way that made it clear they weren't meant for modern roads. If he had to guess they kinda looked like the ones made by ancient Romans for caravan carts.
Hank looked at the main road before turning back to the overgrown and ancient-looking junction.
"Eh, might be fun."
Pressing on the gas, Hank drove into the road, brushes cracking, twigs snapping, and vines tearing. He groaned as the Jeep bunked like a motherfucker and visibility was shit. Still, it was better than nothing, after all, he still got to keep the jeep and the resources he held onto.
He's not giving up the alcohol and ammo, bitch.
With a groan, Hank pulled out a bottle of scotch and pressed further on the clutch while pulling out his ACE and choosing one of his mixtapes. Pressing on the random button Blinding Lights by the weekend blasted through the speakers.
"Oh FUCK YEAH, THIS IS THE SHIT!"
Chugging and bobbing his head to rhythm, Hank drank and drove through the ancient pathway, running over any flora and fauna that stood in his way, too busy enjoying himself to give two shits over the dead tiger that was caught in his windshield
"You were drunk and driving…"
"Yeah."
"How.." The Interrogator shook his head. "How did you even get your driving license?"
"Wait, there's a license for that?"
The Atleasian groaned.
"Licenses are for dumbasses who want to be tracked by the government and bureaucrats. And I hate both of those things."
"That's no-"
"Also, a 'driving' license?! What's next, a license to make my own damn toast?! That is literally 1984!"
"You fu-" The Interrogator stopped themselves before they got down to the mentally unstable mutant's level "Alright, The reason you are required to have a license is to ensure that - as far as possible - only people who have demonstrated the ability to drive to the required standard are able to operate vehicles on the public roads."
"Yeah, but I can drive."
"Yes but you have intoxicated yourself while driving on a road and are liable to harm someone or something."
"I mean yeah." Hank shrugged, "I don't see the problem."
"YOU!" He pointed at Hank "DON'T SEE THE PROBLEM OF RUNNING OVER PEOPLE AND GRIEVOUSLY HARMING THEM?!"
"Nope." Hank leaned back, his hands placed on the back of his head, "I mean when you see someone driving on a road you stay out of his way, so if you get run over, shot at or even injured it's really your own fault for not shooting at the driver incoming."
"SHOOTING AT THE WHAT?!"
"I mean really that's the first rule of Nevada, don't mess with people in cars, since being run over is a danger and there's psychos outside, so not-having your hand on your p-shooter whenever you see a car is dumb."
"I-I-I…"
The Atleasian's face turned into a glazed look of despair as his eyes turned to Hank.
"All of the rage I have ever felt has risen from my flesh like a steam of disbelief."
"Glad I could help ya bud."
"Just go on with your tale of insanity…."
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!
Jungle life I'm far away from nowhere
On my own like Tarzan boy
Animals fled out of the jungle, from small Tapir to Jaguars they all trampled each other out of the way of the crazed lunatic driving through the woods.
Hank meanwhile was well and neatly intoxicated, raving and bobbing to songs from his mixtape. More creatures had been splattered against the car as the front was soaked in dried crimson and the corpses of a capybara, sloth and a cassowary.
"Hide and seek. I play alone while rushing 'cross the forest, monkey business on a sunny afternoon. Jungle life I'm living in the open native beat that carries!"
Another swig of whisky went down.
"Burning bright A fire blows the signal to the sky I sit and wonder, does the message get to youuuuuu?!"
He rose up, still driving but hands extended and letting out a howl from the song.
"Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh! Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh! Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh! Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!"
Unfortunately, there was a stump and the Mag murderer was flung from the car, letting out a surprised howl similar to Tarzan. He fell face-first into the ground eating shit.
Growling and spitting out some dirt he lifted his head up, vision still blurry but the mixtape still blasting. Hank looked at his left hand, the bottle had broken and smashed against his hand.
"Fuuuuuck."
He lifted himself up, steps weird, and vision fucked. He looked back, the car had stopped but the motor was still on. He also just realized that it was covered in roadkill.
"I-I'll clean it in mornin..,"
With the swagger of a miscarried, crippled baby zebra, Hank made his way towards the car, nearly tripping over the foliage. When he made it to the door he stopped, his once shaky body straightening up like a pike. He looked down at his legs and groaned.
"I'm gonna burst if I don't take a piss immediately…"
He needed to find a bathroom.
Quick.
He looked over, his drunken vision still messing with him. That's when he noticed the faint structures a bit further.
"Ppperfekt…"
Hobbling towards the place, he again nearly tripped, cursing as he felt his bladder burn. When he finally made it towards the place he looked for the closest place to a toilet. Clouded POV showed him a structure that looked very similar to an outhouse. With a giggle, he stomped over there and unzipped his pants.
A second later a stream of yellow flowed and a moan escaped the Mutant's mouth.
"Now the flowers will grow…"
He groaned and after a few seconds finished. As he got the urine out of his system his vision became a bit clearer. Was the outhouse made of stone? And why were there runes everywhere?
Now that he thought about it, why was the ground made of old flimsy wood over a large hole?
A crack echoed, and Hank looked down past his magnu-
"I do NOT need details about that!" the Interrogator shouted.
"Fair enough."
Anyways, Hank noticed that the floorboards were cracking.
It's only then that he noticed that all the structures looked ancient.
VERY ancient.
"Oh."
Wimbleton fell into the abyss.
Hank awoke with a jolt as he felt his lungs fill up with air. Even with his red-tinted goggles, he had been blinded by whatever was above him. His eyes narrowed and he spotted the tiny hole in the ceiling shining through like a star among the night. Hissing he rose to his feet only now glancing at his backdrop.
The surface was rough, gritty and hard, the entire setting was made of sandstone. Titanic pillars, giant archways, and majestic ornate walls decrypting legends of old surrounded the assassin. Echoes of water drops, stone breaking, and bats howling far off implied more to the place than the chamber he found himself in. There was a distant smell of moss and the jungle from the surface that Hank recognized and a metallic, crimson taste in his mouth implied some damage to his face.
Still, it was nothing to the faint headache he was feeling right now.
He was stuck in a South-American-looking ruin with a hangover.
Lovely.
Zipping up his pants, Hank eyed his surroundings and captured every detail of the ruins. They were large, massive to be exact. It was like the inside of a shopping center, but in stone and in a mesoamerican style. Though there was some Asian influence there too with engravings etched to the pillars and large buddha-like statues dotting the place.
"Well, that's annoying."
Cracking his neck, his hand went to a pocket and he pulled out an emergency signal flare.
"Safety first."
Lighting it up, he marched through the halls, a crimson light surrounding his form in the ruined darkness.
"A ruin…" the Atleasian rubbed his beard. "I know that there's plenty of those in southern Mistral, the place has been a haven for archeology for the past 50 years. Though it may have been already excavated at some point considering it's so close to the main road…"
"Yeah well, I'm surprised that there were no warning signs or people around the place since you'd think it would be a tourist attraction...well until you remember the Grimm".
"Precisely." the Interrogator nodded. "Unless it's a Dust operation most excavations last only a year or so since the danger of the Grimm tends to put the research at risk, better to find as much as possible in a short span, leave and come back in a few years."
"Still it wasn't a fun place, dark as shit with confusing passages and such."
"Dammit, 'nother dead end."
It's been a few hours since his march, having passed several corridors and entered chambers of antique disposition. Though most times it ended up with him in another dead-end, finding nothing to gain in the process. If it wasn't for Hank's photographic memory he'd be lost already.
"Right…" The Assassin pulled out a notebook and crayon, a lazy map drawn of where he went through. "So corridor four ain't it, maybe room number five o 3 might have the exit."
Putting the notebook back in his pocket he raised his flare up again, making his way back. Marching past ancient wall carvings and ornate statues, he looked back at the note real quick until he found the place again. Looking at the room and then map again, he clicked his tongue.
"Bingo."
Stepping through, an eyebrow was raised upon the inside, it was a grandiose foyer that was decorated with more sculpted pillars and statues.
The statues looked like beowolves who were kneeling towards a female statue. He couldn't make out the details of the chick, as her head and left arm had fallen off. The arm was nothing but dust and the head, though he could make out wavy hair, had fallen face first.
Hank's head turned towards the wall where he could make out faint engravings. He shone his flare at the wall, surprised at the forms drawn on there. Though it looked primitive he could make out two forms, two dragons.
One looked like the classic Arthurian kind with goat horns and the other was an Asian-styled one with antlers. The dragons were backed by several creatures, with Europa being flanked by some Grimm if he could make out the bone masks and the other by ...normal animals?
At the center stood what Hank could guess is supposed to be a human.
"That's….vague…"
Dragons got pissy because of some dude?
Eh, whatever.
Looking forward, he scanned the chamber until he found another door. Stepping forward, he made this way past the pillars into the next room. This one was very similar to the other, though one difference being that the statue here was of a man with a baller coat and pimp cane.
Hank looked down at his own coat.
"Gotta step up my game."
His head turned towards the wall again, another series of wall carvings. This time it was about a knight in shining armor carrying a princess bridal style. On the other side, however, is the same princess standing over what he could guess is a tombstone holding her face. A snort escaped Hank.
"Ha! Cucked!"
With a chuckle, Hank entered the next room.
A small smirk spread once he could hear the distant dripping of water. He lifted his ACE up, the humidity in the room was higher. There was no statue in this room through another carving. The princess was kneeling in front of the two lizards from before, but they had their backs turned on her, they probably saw a bug and got hungry by Hank's guess. Apparently, she didn't appreciate it and on the other side of the carving, she was leading some kind of army.
"This feels like an overreaction…"
Onto the next room.
Same as the last one there was no statue, but another story wall. God he wished he had popcorn with him. Regardless, the next one was confusing, to say the least. Lots of waves that looked like fire but he liked to think they were stink lines, a bunch of skulls everywhere and the dragons pointing at the princess angrily. Still, on the other side, the same chick was screaming into the heavens while standing over what looked like...a pit?
"Weird."
To the next episode!
Hank actually let out a laugh as he noticed a tiny hole poking out of the ceiling with light shining through. Instead of a statue, there were four sacropages in the middle, four small ones. Wimbledon's head turned back to the story wall. Now there was a man in a baller coat approaching...a house? It was really badly drawn, honestly, if Hank had been the slave driver he'd have the carver whipped 20 times for that fuck up. Next, the princess and the man embraced each other...that or one of them was a vampire sucking blood.
Moving to the next one, glee filled Hank's heart. The chamber's roof had collapsed slightly as a massive tree's roots had dug through creating an opening. "And that's my ticket out of here...but first."
Storytime!
The last wall showed both the pimp and the princess T-posing while floating above several kneeling people. Clearly, they had shown their dominance over the peasant mass and were now feared and respected for it. Another happy ending.
With a satisfied grunt, Hank marched towards the root and began to climb it, leaving the ruins behind...and unbeknownst to him, his legacy.
A nexus punch threw the debris away as Wimbleton crawled out from under the tree and rose to his feet. Though the place was still overgrown he could make out several ruins in the green. Now all he had to do was find his car and he could get out of here.
One step was taken when he heard howling far off. Not the howl of a wolf or a deer but of..something else. Curiosity crept up and the Mutant made his way towards the sound, his Dragon Sword drawn and ready. Cutting off a few vines and foliage he trudged through the passage ignoring his surroundings.
When he made it what he witnessed made his heart skip.
Two beowolves were barking up a tree, scratching and snarling as their eyes were glued to their victim which was currently howling and throwing branches and fruits at the Grimm. The victim was dangling from a branch, its teeth out yet a faint panic in its eyes.
MONKE!
Well not really a Monkey per-say but an ape, it was a Chimp.
A Chimp was fighting off two Beowolves.
BULLET TIME: ON
Though his body had grown and became mightier at the cost of acrobatic tendencies, the reflexes and speed of Wimbleton never waned nor failed but instead became even better. He closed the distance between him and the Grimm and with two slashes disposed of them all while time was running at a snail's pace.
BULLET TIME: OFF
The two Grimm fell apart, and Hank sheathed his Blade.
Hank then pointed at the chimp with childlike glee and stars in his red eyes. "MONKE!"
The Chimp tilted his head at the giant mutant man, looking at him in a mix of worry and confusion. Hank shook with joy when he met eyes with the ape.
"This is the greatest day of my life…" Hank wiped some tears from beneath his goggles. The Chimp's brows furrowed, taking a step back from the loony. "No don't go! Come back!"
The Chimp stopped and looked at Hank warily while the Mag mutant glanced to the side trying to think of something. He then realized that he was lost. His drunken mind smacking him for getting lost.
"Shit. I'm lost… OH! Monkey, could ya help me find my jeep, I'll give you food! I got plenty of it! I have some trail mix, it's got berries and nuts!"
The Chimp rubbed his chin and furrowed its brows before its eyes widened and motioned for Hank to follow him before running off into the jungle. Hank tilted his head before jogging after the Chimp, easily keeping pace with the ape.
"So where we going?" Hank asked as he jogged alongside the Chimp who had begun to swing from vine to only answer was the Chimp excitedly cackling, gesturing for the Mag mutant to follow him further.
"Alright then." the deadly assassin responded with a shrug, not even arguing with the animal.
After a few minutes the assassin could hear the purring sound of the motor running from the distance. Looking over, he brushed aside some leaves to gaze upon the jeep to find his new animal companion sitting upon it. Roadkill was still there and rotting with the Chimp sitting on the hood, biting bits off of the tiger's corpse and chewing leisurely.
"Huh neat," Hank said casually before getting into the jeep and then opened the glove compartment, taking out a bag of Eminem's Trail Mix: now with more M&M's.
"Here ya go Monkey. Trail mix for your soul."
The Chimp yoinked the bag, shoving its hand in, and began to munch on the mix. It sat down on the hood enjoying the trail mix while Hank removed some of the dead animal stuck to his jeep. As he threw the tiger's corpse aside into a nearby bush, he noticed how the Chimp jumped into the passenger seat.
"Look monkey, I like you and all but I don't know if I can take ya." A sigh escaped the assassin. "I only got enough booze for one man."
The Ape still sat, its eyes drilling into Hank. It then pulled out the pistol from the glove box and aimed it at Hank.
"Wait a fucking second…" That spark returned in Hanks' eyes. "Can you truly do what I think you can?!"
A shot went off and Hank dodged the bullet.
"Fuck Yeah! Looks like you're coming along after all Monkey!" Hank shouted with pure joy in his voice. The Chimp smiled and threw the gun into the box again before jumping on the seat excitedly.
"I'm gonna get you so many fucking bananas and SMGS, can't forget about that!"
And so they rode off into the sunset.
"...huh?" the Interrogator exclaimed in a baffled tone. "Why did you take a chimpanzee with you!?"
"What?" Hank shrugged, "It's a monkey that can shoot a gun. Why would I not bring him with me?"
"You find a random ape to be more interesting than the fact that you have stumbled upon a long-lost civilization's ruins?! Barring the fact that it can shoot a gun which you found out AFTER meeting it AND it shot at you implying it wanted to kill you; you just saw a random chimpanzee and that immediately caught your attention, not the mythical ruins or history?!"
"Basically yeah." the mutant responded casually.
"What about the engravings!? The history of the world and-"
"History is overrated and I don't care about it; I mean it's a bunch of funny carvings and they entrained me for like a minute, but a gun trotting chimp? Beats the shit out of that." Hank replied casually.
"WHAT!? THAT IS THOUSANDS OF YEARS OF HISTORY AND YOU DIDN'T CARE!?"
"No. I mean it's just some shitty stone box with some wacky paintings."
"But-"
"If it was so important then people would still be living there. Shitty place didn't even have cable."
"IT WAS AN ANCIENT RUIN FROM A LONG-LOST CIVILIZATION! OF COURSE, IT WOULDN'T HAVE CABLE!"
"Jeez, tone it down Jiminy Cricket. I was being rhetorical ya dumbass, but still, it was some dumb place no one's ever going to find. You could piss and shit everywhere and nothing would change about the place."
"Th-wh-I…" The Interrogator then sighed and began to rub his temples, the veins of his forehead pulsing dangerously. "W-We're done today. I need a fucking break."
"Hey, I'm just flinging what I've seen and what you wanted to know. Also holy shit you've just swore! I thought this show was PG-13"
"Do me a favor Wimbleton and shut up. You're free to go… just… different worlds, monkey guns, murdering bandits! I just need at least six hours of sleep before we continue. Not even my semblance is helping with your utter and completely insane rambling."
"It ain't rambling if it's the truth numbnuts. If ya need some beauty sleep after some basic shit then this place is more fucked than I originally thought."
"I'm just hungry and tired."
"Oh, so you're gonna get some authentic Italian pizza then? Nice. Damn I'm actually kinda hungry too now that I think about it."
"What the FUCK is an Italian...wait...actually you know what? Don't answer that, just get the hell out of my office."
"Well okay then Ironwood, heh. Ironwood, that's funny, see cause it's because it's a-."
"Please leave."
Hank shrugs before standing up. "Well see ya later Macarthur. Gonna get me a pie." The mutant then left the office.
As soon as Hank left Ironwood slammed his head into his desk and groaned before silently weeping to himself. Dreading the next session that was going to happen.
DAY 3! GIVE IT UP FOR DAY 3!
This chapter is a bit on the calmer side but i'd be lying if I didn't admit this is filler me and the boys did when we were fuckin around. Next chapter has more VIOLENCE, so you'll like that too.
At least we got the Monke.
Anyways onto the reviews boyos and gals!
Edgar115: Indeed, the only thing worse than a Grimmmunk is a Grimm Ibis; fucking trash snatchers.
nantono: I already PM'd them but In case anyone wonders; Yatsuhashi is a big boi himself at over 2m tall, the Insect arm; people could mistake it for a Faunus trait.
I mean this IS Rwby we are talking about; where a monster killing team consisted of a literal rainbow catgirl and a jazz player whose weapon was s a fuckin Trumpet and could multiply himself is considered "normal".
Also, it's not that he's outclassed but that he's out of his element; he's literally in a different world which not just has a different setting but different rules and even different gravity to a degree. He doesn't know what an Aura and Semblance even are. So he's gonna have trouble from time to time since he's still getting used to things, but he's still gonna kick ass MAJORLY so. Also, the story would become boring REAL quick if all Hank did was win.
Death300043: CRAWLING IN MY CRAWL. Sometimes humor is dumb; I mean the whole Jihz thing was due me fucking around with a character generator. tried to make a RWBY char and the generator only asked for a name. I was bored so I wrote "Jizz" and the generator gave me a white-colored huntsman that has the power to manipulate friction and my sides went to orbit. Also most of the humor is written when I'm shitfaced so the level of maturity crashes and dies like a fuckin the stock market in 2008.
JustAnotherHomoSapien: what makes it worse is that nab had another number on another Sigma mail, but then I looked it up and it was WAY too cursed and I did NOT need to have someone associate this fic and that number.
TheMexicanAttcker: me too bud, me too.
TheIncredibleCommentMachine: Hope you don't miss this one boi.
whatsupman: Yeah Crank is a great movie, and some characters will spice things up, but I don't wanna drag someone TOO early. As for the "heroes" well they do have a point.; Hank may have killed expandable people but it's the WAY he goes on about that's fucked. Killing bandits normally via gun shots and executions is fine, literally bashing people's heads open and tearing them apart while singing and enjoying it is uhh...well how would you react if you saw a dude killing terrorists with a chainsaw while laughing...
Killin isn't wrong but it's the way you kill that is...uhh questionable.
Super heavy weapons guy: Crime.