AN: Ok, I give up, if my mind won't stop with the hunter x hunter, then I'll go and continue my old HXH fic.
Reads Hunting for Something Better's first chapter.
I mean rewrite. Definitely rewrite. I mean I'm far from great now, but this is just painful to read. Lets see if I can't do better this time.
Oh yes, since this, like the original, will be a multi-cross, I'm going to be leaving little references throughout it(Or al least until I run out of idea's) and I'll give a shout-out to the first person to recognize them, so keep an eye out!
Fearsome Monsters, Exotic Creatures.
Vast Riches, Hidden Treasures.
Evil Enclaves, Unexplored lands.
The word "Unknown" holds magic. And some incredible people are drawn to that magic. They are know . . . as Hunters.
People who throw themselves into danger, risking it all in pursuit of the magic that exists in every untraveled corner of the world, and pursue their desires with a fiery passion in their hearts.
But this is not necessarily the story of a hunter, but rather, that of a man forced to follow that path out of fear, and the meddling of outside forces . . .
The train rumbled down the tracks at sixty kilometres an hour, every seat filled to the brim with large, buff men carrying an assortment of weapons, scars, and tattoos. Every "tough-guy" stereotype under the sun existed inside of this train, from sailors to soldiers, from mobsters to bikers, from jocks to jokes.
All of these individuals were currently engaged in an impassioned argument about who was going to become a hunter and who wasn't. Which is to say they were all trying to build up their own greatness while cussing each other out in the most vulgar way possible. Basically it was a massive p*ssing contest.
Of course, their were a few . . . exceptions . . . scattered about.
One such exception sat in the back of the third train car next to the window, trying to avoid drawing attention to himself. He was a young man, with pale, though not sickly, skin and long curly brown hair that reached just past his shoulders. Perched on his nose were a pair of black-rimmed glasses with large round lenses. He was wearing a black hoodie with several odd white symbols scattered over it over a red turtleneck. Set over his ears were a pair of large silver headphones, through which he was blaring rock music in an attempt to drown out the sea of vulgarities that surrounded him.
This strategy worked rather for the first few minutes, but all good things come to an end, and after three songs worth of success, one of the other passengers was sent sprawling on top of him when he was punched in the face by another passenger.
The young man threw the gangster looking man off him on reflex and right back into the man who had punched him in the first place, knocking them both to the ground. This, unfortunately for him, painted him as a target for both mens respective groups, who crowded around him withing seconds.
Seemingly unperturbed, the man just groaned and muttered, "Why do these things keep happening to me?" in annoyance.
"What do you think your doing, four eyes?" A large, bald man with a rather nasty cross shapped scar on his four head(and was that a bolt sticking out the side?) snarled menacingly, drawing a knife from his belt.
The man in the hood slid his headphones down onto his neck and began to take off his jacket before responding. "Trying to take the train in peace. Is their a problem with that?" he demanded in a rather flippant tone
Bald-man sneered at him, showing several yellow, and one gold, teeth. "Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do. Yeah see, this here train is heading to the Hunter Exam, and I don't think some long haired hippie looking son of a b**** in glasses is up to snuff, yeah know? So, why don't you just leave? There's a perfectly good way off right behind you," he gestured at the window, "So why don't me and the guy's give you a little boost, huh?"
The man in glasses seemed unimpressed if the way he cocked his eyebrow and raise one side of his lib was any indication. "Really? You think I care what you think? Yeah no, I wouldn't be here if I could avoid it, but I'm not going to leave just cause some guy wants to feel tougher than he is. Now go sit down and leave me be, chrome-dome."
Chrome-dome seemed less than inclined inclined to do as advised, and pulled out a knife, holding it to the burnett's throat. "Listen here you . . . " was as far as he got in his retort, as a the door right next to them opened and a large, somewhat overweight man in a chief's uniform, with prune purple hair and a rather impressive moustache that framed his mouth, marched in.
He took one look at the scene in front of him, roared, "NO FIGHTIN IN HERE!" and slugged Chrome-dome in the face, sending him and everyone behind him flying. Hoodie meanwhile sat back down and looked out the window with a sigh, resting his face on his hand as he pulled his headphones back on to block out the sound of a brawl breaking out next to him.
He managed to ignore to sea of flailing bodies on the floor next to his seat, listening to music and watching the scenery go by, for several minutes before something caught his eye.
It was a group of rather large tree's, each of a different type, all wrapped around the trunk of a single massive redwood tree that seemed to be a couple hundred feet tall. He watched if for several minutes, glancing back and forth between it and the door at the front of the car, until the tree moved out of sight.
He sat for several minutes, staring at his hands and blinking rapidly in a confused manner, frowning. Finally he reached into the large back-pack at his feet, pulling out a map and looking it over. After several seconds, he folded up the map and put it away with a frown.
Standing up and throwing the large backpack on over his back, he looked around at the room around him. Everyone was still fighting(The chef was winning).
Frowning, he stepped up onto his seat and stepped onto the back of the seat in front of him. Soon he was walking across the backs of the seats as he made his way to the front of the car, using the roof to balance himself, effectively avoiding the mess of bodies on the floor. Hoping down on the other end of the car, he stepped through the door to the next car before anyone could notice and drag him into the fight.
Making his way through the other cars of the train(luckily no one else had started a fight . . . yet), including a dinning room and kitchen sans one chef, and made his way to the front of the train.
"Hello? Are you the train's engineer?" The curly-haired young man asked, entering the train's engine room.
A somewhat rotund man in a blue denim suit and hat turned to him and nodded. "That I am. What can I do for you?"
Clearing his throat somewhat nervously, the young man pulled the map back out of his bag. "Yes, I was watching scenery earlier, when I saw what looked like the twisted grotto. You know, bunch of trees all tangled up around a giant redwood?"
"Oh, really? I love those tree's, not enough people know about them!" The engineer smiled.
"Yes, their rather unappreciated," the man in the turtleneck agreed, "but from what my rail-map shows, we shouldn't be passing them on our way to the exam, in fact their a good hundred kilometres of our course. At least according to my map, anyway." he continued.
"Oh, really?" The engineer smiled. "Well then, you better go talk to Charlie, he's in the very back car of the train. He'll get this sorted out right quick."
"The very back car?"
"The very back car."
"So, the caboose?"
"No, the one after the it. Just go to the back of the train, you'll see what I'm talking about."
Now having a pretty good idea of what was going on, the young man turned around and made to leave. "Oh yes, by the way, what's you're name son?" the engineer call over his shoulder.
"Hmm? My name? Well, I don't use my real name anymore, but I go my Russet. Russet Roulette. Why?" the now named Russet responded, halfway through the doorway(which was rather loud seeing as were they were).
"No reason, just wanted a name to go with your face. Good luck with getting to the exam!" He called over his shoulder, to which Russet nodded with a small smile, before closing to door.
Making his way back through the train, Russet found that the chef had made it to the kitchen looking none the worse for wear. Upon reaching his own car, he found that the majority of the passengers inside were back in their seats, either groaning in a pain or slumped over in unconsciousness. Nonetheless, he rushed through to avoid any confrontations, and slipped through the door at the back before anyone could notice him.
After his own car there were only three cars between himself and the caboose, none of which caused him any trouble. Upon reaching the caboose, he found that it was basically one big bed room, with a total of five beds scattered about the room, two bunk-beds and one in the middle. Their was no one inside.
Making his way through the room, Russet opened the door at the back to discover that there was indeed one more car, which he made his way into carefully. Inside were about a dozen other wannabe applicants, all sitting on benches that lined the walls, and one train conductor. On the Conductors name-tag, "Charlie" was proudly displayed in gold print.
Upon opening the door, Russet found all eye's turned upon him, making him feel somewhat awkward, but he powered through it and walked up to the conductor.
"Your Charlie, right?" He asked, putting his hands in his pockets.
The conductor nodded. "Yes, I'm Charlie. And I assume your Russet?"
"Uh, yeah, I am. Did the engineer call ahead?"
Charlie nodded. "Yes he did. Now I'm sure you've already figured it out by now, but this train isn't actually going towards the hunter's exam. That's just a trick to narrow down the applicant's. You, and everyone else in this room, figured it out. In one more hour, this car is going to unhitch from the rest of the train and take a hidden tunnel through the mountain to the station in Dolle Harbour. Any questions?"
Russet though for a moment, but shook his head and began looking for a spot to sit as far away from everyone else as possible. This was just the beginning.
AN: I felt like writing the prologue in third person, but now that I'm finished I'll switch to first person in the next chapter. Writing a self insert in third person is incredibly awkward for me.
I'm not going to take down the original, so you can read that if you want, but I wouldn't recommend it. It really stinks.
I hope you enjoy, until next time!