After way too long, here is the third member of team CNFR and her trailer story. Again, feel free to offer advice, tips, or point out grammatical/spelling errors. If you'd like to see something happen or appear in this story, or you'd like to see a specific character incorporated, you can PM me or leave a review. Please leave reviews! It motivates me, and lets me know people are reading this fic and want it to continue.
Disclaimer: Again, I do not own RWBY.
"F"
"Place your bets!" A huge ring of people surrounded a clearing, where a single referee stood in the center, while the last two fighters were dragged off. The spectators exchanged Lien, completing bets and making new ones. Among the onlookers, a teenage girl with short, olive green hair and a dark tawny complexion was jamming Lien into her pockets and her backpack, grinning as a number of disgruntled gamblers reluctantly handed over their money.
"Alrighty, that looks about right. Ah, wait - you sir, yes, you, I see you trying to sneak away. Cough it up," Fern said with a wide, cat-like smile. She collected the Lien and eyed the clearing, two new fighters already circling each other. Two muscular people, a man and a women, watched beside Fern. The girl scoffed as one of the fighters threw a punch that was easily deflected by his rival. "Weak and poorly placed," she observed.
"That's one of the best fighters I know," the man beside her said.
"Well, you need to get out more. He relies too heavily on his punches, he looked like he was aiming for the guy's shoulder rather than his head, stomach, or groin, and he-,"
"If you know so much, go fight the guy. Put your money where your mouth is," the woman sneered, her muscles making her figure look fairly intimidating. Fern gestured at her filled pockets, and pulled out some Lien.
"I've already done that," she said cheekily, shoving it back in her pockets. "But I will gladly fight your guy." She shoved through the crowd, the man and woman staring after her with confident, smug grins. "Excuse me!" Every single person surrounding the ring stared at her, and the two fighters turned and gave her confused glances. She smiled and pointed at the fighter on the left. "I'd like to fight him, please." Some of the spectators snickered.
"We ain't done yet," the second fighter said. Fern lifted up some of the Lien she had won.
"I'll pay you to be done, if you really need that," she said in a bored tone. "Now, get off. I'm fighting him, not you." The man looked pretty angry, but stomped over and grabbed the Lien before leaving the ring. Fern grinned at the single fighter left, who was looking pretty wary at this point. He was muscular, wearing only red cargo pants with belts looped on the sides. His head, arms, and back were all tattooed.
"Weapons or no weapons?" he asked. Fern put a finger to her lip, barely stifling a smile.
"Weapons will work," she said sweetly. The man scoffed, then slipped on a pair of gloves. Fern raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, slipping a pair of sports glasses on as she stepped into the ring. She adjusted the shoulder strap of her backpack, making sure it was tight, then faced the man. A woman with spiked orange and purple hair lifted up a megaphone.
"Fighters, ready? Fight begins in 3, 2, 1, Go!" she yelled, her voice echoing through the crowd. The man launched himself at Fern, and Fern had a second to wonder if his feet even touched the ground before his fist connected with her jaw. Her hand flew to her lower cheek as she skidded backwards. She could hear snickers from the crowd. As if a single punch had decided the match already. She grinned at the thought; how wrong they were.
The man moved again, throwing a fist forward in a punch right as he was in front of her. She sidestepped swiftly but minimally, so his fist nearly grazed her hair. She watched confusion cloud his expression before she jabbed a pointed hand at his chest and throat. He doubled back from the blow to his chest with an oof, but he caught her second attack, blocking her hand with his own. Fern jumped backwards, dodging the punches that kept coming her way. Her opponent pulled back aiming for her stomach, and Fern quickly moved to block the blow. The other fighter clearly wasn't as dumb as Fern had believed because he punched her face instead. She jumped back again before feeling her body graze that of another's. She was nearly outside the ring.
"Not so tough now," someone said behind her, followed by a snicker. Fern wanted to turn around and smack whoever had said it. You wish, she thought.
"Go, Rojo!" a man yelled from the crowd. Her opponent, "Rojo", ran forward but as he closed in on Fern, she held out her hands and quickly snapped her wrists upward. Her backpack expanded, gears and mechanical parts clicking, before Fern shot into the air. She looked down, her jetpack shooting near white flames and her glasses powering up. The crowd was gazing up with surprised faces. Rojo stared at her, shocked as well, but a his stance had changed to a very rigid one. Fern narrowed her eyes, and a red target circled his gloved hands. Immediately two blades were cutting through the air, and Fern immediately lowered herself, and spun through the air. One blade missed completely, but the other one cut through her shirt, a thin graze showing a line of her stomach. She frowned and zoomed towards the ground, stopping less than twenty feet away from Rojo.
"Not cool!" she said, a teasing lilt to her voice, though her expression remained stoic. She shot forward and grabbed Rojo's wrists and flew upward, higher and higher. "Not at all." Rojo gasped, and tried to moving out of her grasp, his bladed gloves nicking her palms. Fern tsked, and dropped him, kicking her feet and slamming into his abdomen as he fell faster. He hit the ground, the pavement cracking beneath him, and the female referee stepping closer, curiously leaning over him. Rojo groaned, but he didn't move from where he had landed. Fern slowly lowered herself before falling onto the ground in a crouch, cautiously gazing at her fallen rival. The referee mumbled something under her breath, then looked up with a devilish smile.
"Fighter out! Match goes to the girl with crazy jets!" she said, laughing boisterously. The crowd murmured for a couple seconds before erupting in cheers. Fern beamed, wiping her brow and rubbing her sore stomach. The crowd split as two people moved toward the ring, a man and woman with the same blond, wavy hair. It was the same people from before, the ones who had dared Fern to fight Rojo in the first place. The woman glared at Fern for a second, before staring down at the barely coherent Rojo with a look of disgust. The man walked over and kicked him in the side.
"Get up," he snapped. Rojo coughed, and slowly tried pulling himself off the ground. The man practically shoved him out of the ring. "Completely worthless. You're supposed to be one of the best, and you couldn't even beat a tiny, little girl."
"You make it sound like I didn't just beat that guy!" Fern pouted. Two heads swiveled to stare at her.
"Beginner's luck. It happens to the worst of us, it would seem," the man said coolly. Fern clenched her hands into fists, anger and annoyance flaring.
"Yeah, right," Fern scoffed. "Send me another fighter, let's see if you're right." The man shook his head, and the woman suddenly grinned at Fern, a wild, wicked smile that showed her teeth. She cracked her knuckles loudly and purposely.
"No," the man said, waving off some of the fighters who were surging forward at the edge of the ring. "As much as I'd like to send all my fighters against you, I think Fiora and I will stand in." The blond, whom Fern assumed was Fiora, waved behind her brother. Fern crossed her arms, staring at the brother.
"Two against one?" she asked skeptically. "Doesn't seem like a fair fight."
"You went into the last fight knowing it wasn't fair."
"It was still one on one."
"Are you saying you can't take us? It's okay, we understand," Fiora quipped. Fern sucked in a breath, holding the woman's gaze. She knew it was dumb, it was reckless, but she wanted nothing more than to fight, and to wipe the smirk off of Fiora's face. She pulled her glasses down a half inch and smiled.
"The ring is yours," she said, opening her arms and gesturing at the clearing around them. Fiora stepped around her brother, brandishing a large broadsword. Her brother pulled out what looked like a pitchfork almost. Fern fastened her glasses.
"Ready when you are," she said, trying to keep her tone light. Fiora laughed, a fairly ugly sound to Fern's ears. Her brother didn't move from his spot. The referee stepped into the ring, but barely took more than a few steps in. She looked nervous, her eyes darting to look at the siblings before raising the megaphone to her lips.
"Fighters ready?" she asked, her voice higher than normal. Fern nodded. The other two didn't even blink. "Fight begins in 3….2...1...Fight!"
The blond man didn't waste anytime; the forked end of his weapon shot out and nearly speared Fern through the stomach, had she not dove for the side. A thin cord connected the pointed end to the staff, which Fern had quickly realized was a harpoon. The man snapped it back, and Fiora raced past him, dragging the tip of her sword across the ground before slashing it at Fern. Fern stood her ground and held her hand out in a defensive position. One of the canisters of her jetpack separated itself from its counterpart and balanced on her shoulder before it blasted itself into Fiora's stomach. The blond woman gasped as it sent her flying backwards.
Fern had barely begun to move when the right lens of her glasses blinked bright red, and she turned so the brother's attack caught on her remaining canister. She met his angry, blue eyes, his hands curled around the staff of the harpoon which was screeching against the metal of her pack as it slid against it. Fern snapped her fingers, and the first canister soared through the air and latched onto her back once again. She raised her hand and clapped a cupped palm over her attacker's ear. The harpoon dropped from his hand, and he screamed in pain. Fern grabbed his shoulder and launched herself over it nimbly, landing lightly on her feet, before aiming the ends of both cannons at his back. She swiped her hands through the air, and the cannons spun and launched a fiery blast at the man's back. Sparks flew into the sky as the man rocketed forward, hitting the ground with a thud. Fern looked back with a wide smile. Hopefully, he wouldn't get back up.
"Ash!" Fern turned to see Fiora standing up, her fists clenched and her expression one of absolute fury. "You little brat!"
"Eh, he just wasn't that good," Fern said mockingly. "All's fair, right?" Fiora aimed her bulky sword at Fern's head, and the girl ducked just in time to hear the whistling of a round soar through where her head had been. "Touche."
Fiora dashed for Fern, wielding her broadsword with complete ease. Fern narrowed her eyes, her glasses picking out the the suspected trajectory of the blade's swing. Her jetpack's cannons flipped so both were over her shoulders, pointed at Fiora. The older woman leapt and stabbed her blade at Fern, aiming for the girl's head. Fern wasn't even shocked that the woman was playing dirty. The fights at the ring were brutal.
She fired her cannons, and two blasts of fire shot out. Fiora cried out as she tried blocking them with her sword. The fire barely left a mark on the gleaming surface of the sword, but as Fiora faced Fern again, Fern could make out scorch marks along the woman's arms. The marks slowly disappeared until nothing but faint ash was left. Her Aura hadn't broken then. Fern needed to attack again. Her cannons returned to their original position, and Fern shoved off the ground with all her might as she shot through the air.
The teen charged Fiora, knocking her over and barraging her with quick punches at her abdomen. The blond growled and knocked the hilt of her sword against Fern's head, shoving her to the side with a strong swipe. Fern groaned, pressing a hand to her side. Fiora was strong, and that last hit made Fern want to vomit. She stumbled to her feet, listing to the side, and raising her eyes to meet the point of sharpened metal pointed directly at her face. Fern barely processed what was happening, and her mouth formed a small O as her opponent fired several rounds at her. Fern tried to move, but a few of the rounds found their mark, and her body bent backwards and fells from the impact.
"How's it feel down there on the dirt?" Fiora asked, laughing. "Where you belong!" Fern scowled, but she couldn't help but snap back a retort.
"It feels wonderful! Want a turn?" she countered. Something clicked, and Fern knew what was coming next. The blond was going to bombard her and hit her with everything she had. Fern had to think of something quick.
Fiora grinned down at her and slammed a hand down on the ground. At first, Fern thought that maybe she had been lucky and the woman had missed. Then she saw the wave of gray that began covering Fiora's arm, traveling up her arm and across her entire body until her whole body was the color of slate. Fiora's smile grew wider until she looked more like an animal baring its teeth, and she dashed forward. An idea popped into Fern's head, a risky one, but one she was fairly confident she would be able to pull off. She pulled herself up, stumbling to the side, but staying steady on her feet. Fiora slashed her blade as Fern parried with one of her cannons, turning so her pack would take the brute force of Fiora's attack. The other cannon lined up with Fiora's face and fired. The blast took her by surprise, and she took a few steps back, but thanks to her new rock-hard form, Fern was sure that Fiora had barely felt anything. But Fern did not need her to be hurt; she just needed her to lose concentration for a moment.
Fern spun, digging her heels back as she pivoted, and launched herself at the stunned Fiora. The woman held up her hands, eyes narrowed, ready to stop Fern. Fern clicked a button on her strap and fire burst from the cannons, accelerating her faster than usual. She knocked into Fiora face first as they both plummeted to the ground. Fiora snarled beneath Fern, and moved to get up. Fern clapped a hand down on the woman's shoulder, pinning her as effectively as she could, while her other hand grabbed Fiora's right wrist. Fiora pushed at the girl.
"What are you-," she began angrily, then paused as the color drained from her face. Literally. The stone coating left Fiora, growing smaller and smaller until just her wrist was stone layer traveled up Fern's hand and grew until now Fern's own body looked like it was made of stone, just as Fiora's had moments before. Fiora's eyes widened, and for the first time in their entire match, the blond woman looked just a teensy bit scared. "What-," she started.
"Thank you!" Fern said cheerfully, then began punching the woman like there was no tomorrow. She jabbed at the woman's stomach, her hands, her face. Fiora screeched and tried to shove Fern off again. Fern smiled and aimed her cannons. A destructive, fiery explosion covered the two fighters, smoke gusting around Fern and Fiora until they were no longer visible. The crowd pushed forward a bit, and the referee stepped into the ring, keeping her distance while looking for the fighters amidst the smog.
The smoke cleared away, and Fern stood up, her face dimpling while her opponent's body lay on the ground unconscious. Her stone body gradually crumbled away. Her twin cannons realigned themselves on her back, and she calmly took her sunglasses off and clipped them on her shirt. Ash was groaning over on the side, but it was clear both he and his sister were done. The ref ran over and grabbed Fern's hand, raising it high.
"We have a winner!" she yelled. Hesitant clapping echoed throughout the crowd before a thunderous roar of applause practically ruptured Fern's eardrums. A couple fighters who had yet to battle helped pull Fiora and Ash out of the ring, while another grabbed their weapons.
Fern basked in the applause for a few moments, proudly smiling and accepting the Lien a few enthusiastic onlookers threw her way. After enjoying the attention for a few minutes, she exited the ring and quietly slipped through the crowd and away from all the excitement. She fingered her glasses, an extremely smug expression decorating her face, and pulled out her Scroll, dialing in a number.
"...Hello?" A low voice answered, not sounding particularly happy at being called. Fern bit her lip, stifling a laugh.
"Hiya buddy!" she chirped. A groan responded to her cheerful greeting.
"Again? Stop calling! This is the third time this week, and I told you-,"
"So you're coming?" Fern asked excitedly.
"I didn't say that."
"Yes! I knew it!" Fern fistpumped the air, almost dropping her Scroll in the process. "Okay, so we'll have to meet up someplace, and we've got to figure out a way so we'll be each other's partner, and of course we need to find other teammates as well."
"I think the entire process of picking a team is random. I highly doubt we have a say in it."
"Doesn't matter. We're going to be partners," Fern said dismissively.
"You're hopeless."
"I'm hopeful," Fern corrected. "And I will see you at Beacon!"