Entropy
Siegfried
Disclaimer: I own nothing of RWBY, and I regretfully am not gathering any sort of monetary compensation for this work. Both of those rights belong to Rooster Teeth.
Just two more years until Beacon, thought Ruby excitedly. She casually strolled through Vale's surface streets, enjoying the city's presence and the cool night air. Her goal? From Dust Till Dawn, a popular dust shop near enough to Signal's coastal dust plane terminal to be within the student body's boundaries, but far enough to provide and interesting foray into greater Vale.
The hooded girl stretched languidly as she walked the half-dozen blocks into the heart of the city, her customary weapon a comfortable weight at her hip. The flight out of Patch wasn't lengthy, but the ride symbolized (rather physically) the cramped sensation of spending years training on the small island. It was nice to come into the city once in a while, if only to spread out into the environment some.
Ah, there it is.
Ruby opened the door and stepped into the shop, tripping slightly over the elevated doorframe, her styled red headphones slipping from around her head. Tch, that's what I get for not paying attention. Though Uncle Qrow would be absolutely tickled. She reflected on her last training session – Qrow was determined that Ruby be able to deflect bullets with the shorter, back side of her scythe. His chosen method of teaching that particular skill involved mobile training dummies, a semi-auto dust pistol, and for some reason a kilogram of thermite, a ridiculously bright explosive created from a combination iron powder, fire dust, and a third component he wouldn't tell her about. Something to do with lethality.
He'd never shut up about her doing so well in that exercise, and then tripping over a doorstep.
The small scythe-wielder shook her head, clearing her thoughts, and completed her ingress. Waving casually to the shopkeeper, she wandered towards the back wall, past the rows of dust boxes, to where she knew the new Weapons Monthly issue would be.
Picking up her favorite magazine and beginning to page through it, she reached into her pocket and idly raised the volume on her now-stable headphones. This Will Be the Day was always a favorite of hers.
For Roman Torchwick, the city of Vale represented everything he hated about the world. Lazy layabout citizens, cramped streets, and crumbling buildings all displayed to him in vivid detail what was wrong with life on this god-forsaken spit of land. People who wanted things all to themselves, but unwilling to spend the time or effort to get those things. Not enough space, everything crowded together in an endless grind to make money. That same money and effort not being put back to good use, and the world falling apart for it.
All the better reason to be a thief, right? Make the effort to take those same things, maybe teach the lazier citizens a thing or two in the process. Loss of limb (or even wallet) was a great stimulus in that direction.
Shifting his bowler hat back from his forehead, Torchwick grinned around his cigar. Ah, it was a fine night. The air stank, the crowds were thin, and he had mooks and a target. Never a better night for a heist. Especially given that the shop in question had a stupid name. From Dust Till Dawn indeed. A truly stupid name.
Ruby frowned slightly, eyes still on her magazine as she felt the shop door open behind her – the joints of the hinges slightly rough against each other – and nearly turned around towards the door as just under a half dozen people – tall, dark, metal and leather – walked in and took up places in front of the poor shopkeep's counter. Her music continued thudding through her headphones, and she resisted the urge to turn it off. Uncle Qrow said to use situations like this to practice. Can't rely on my ears all the time.
She focused sharply, razoring in first on the space immediately behind her, then spreading her awareness through the small shop. Three, no… four goons, and a leader. Two on the dust dispenser wall, one and the leader at the shop counter, and… the fourth goon is behind me.
"Alright, put your hands where I can see them!" called the henchman, holding his curved saber threateningly towards her.
I'm not sure I even deign that a response.
"Hey! I said hands up! Now!"
How rude. Can't he see I'm reading this magazine? Peacefully, even!
The mook behind Ruby roughly pulled at her shoulder, triggering a slight frown on the red-hooded girl's face.
"You got a death wish, missy?"
Ruby turned with the pull, looking up at the mook's face. "Are you… robbing me?" she asked tentatively. Yep, this guy is a terrible thief.
"Yes!" he replied.
Wow. Yeah. Ruby smirked. "Oh. Well, then." And with that, Ruby jumped up, and – faster than the mook's eyes could follow – kicked towards the wall, then flipped around and smashed her left boot right into his nose.
With a loud, tinkling crash the storefront window shattered at Ruby and the hapless mook catapulted through it. The black-adorned henchman fell the to the ground, moaning and cradling his now profusely-bleeding nose. Ruby planted her feet firmly against the asphalt, turning simultaneously towards the door.
The other three henchmen and their leader crashed out of said door, the three mooks brandishing her swords.
Wow, the leader's got an ugly hat.
Ruby wrapped her presence around herself, then exploded her aura outwards through the street. Her four now-opponents shivered unknowingly.
Alright… bogeys at twelve, two, and three. Looks like hat-guy is just watching.
The nearest mook, recovering from his momentary shudder, charged the young huntress-in-training.
Palm strike.
Ruby lashed out with Crescent Rose, unfolding it as she followed through with her swing. At the peak of the arc, the flat of the blade connected solidly with the mook's torso, throwing him back behind the leader. Ruby took no notice of his fall, however, already focused on her next victi—ah, opponent. The second mook, undeterred by his compatriot's unhappy fate, had tried to run to the red girl's side and attack from there.
Standard slash.
A quick swing of her massive blade and the second mercenary flew back as well.
One more.
Searching for the last mook, Ruby swung her perception wildly through the street, listening for footsteps. She'd lost track of the last one! Turning back towards the store, she found herself face-to-face with the sharp end of a red, curved saber. In a panic, she jumped backwards while pulling Crescent Rose, now fully extended, towards her.
Shit.
Unluckily, the blade engaged with the mook's torso, pulling him towards her while also cutting deep into his skin. His resulting, pain-induced spasm was enough to tear the saber from his grasp…
…and embed itself directly into Ruby's thin, crimson-sheathed chest with a neat snick.
…shit.