Chapter 1- Neo

'Stupid! How could I be so stupid?' I thought to myself as I flew through the sky, held up by my parasol. 'Why'd Roman have to drag on that speech so long? I would've easily taken out that little red demon if she hadn't gone for the button on my parasol!' Even as these thoughts of resentment rang through my head, I made my plan for survival. I tilted my parasol a little bit, aiming me toward my target: a relatively small and easy to control griffin near the bottom of the flock. I landed on its back and stabbed my parasol blade into the base of its neck. Ignoring the pained screams of the flying grimm, I aimed it up until it was overtop of the Atlesian Airship. I could barely make out the tiny, white and red figures of Roman and "Little Red" on the wing of the massive warbird. As I drew closer, though, I could see that Roman was beating Red with his cane and giving another of his famous speeches. But I saw what they didn't.

Right behind him, coming in at full speed, was a massive griffin which obviously had its eyes set on Roman. All I could do was watch on in horror as he lifted Melodic Cudgel over Red's head and was immediately eaten by the ginormous grimm. It then attacked Red, and I closed my eyes and buried my head into the black, bloody feathers of my ride. I heard an explosion and looked up again to see that the griffin had been smashed into the bridge and the airship was falling out of the sky, simultaneously blowing itself up. Any chance Roman had of being alive was gone, and little red was nowhere to be seen. Wiping away tears, I directed my grimm away from the city of Vale and flew home as fast as the griffin would allow.

Orion

"Hmmm... These are good ones too." I said as I picked up another pair of mirrored aviator sunglasses and added them to the small pile in front of the cashier. "I told myself I'd change it up a bit with some wraparounds, but I guess I'll stick with my classic look." The faunus lady behind the desk raised an eyebrow at my collection of 14 nearly identical sunglasses, but didn't say a word as she started scanning each pair. "That'll be 72 lien," she stated and put the last pair into a plastic bag. I handed her my card. "Sorry I always run you out of aviators, but people tend to be unnerved when they see these beauties." And with that I held up the aviators I was currently wearing and had a good laugh at the woman's surprised expression and widened eyes as they took in my own.

Though perhaps this requires explanation. I have a condition called heterochromia iridium, or mismatched eyes. My left eye is a deep blue while my right one is a light silver. I started wearing sunglasses at age 7, after my parents died and I got tired of people looking into my eyes with pity or disgust. That's also when I started learning to fight. But that was 12 years ago. I have since gotten over how others see my condition and started using it to mess with people and catch them off guard. I still choose to always wear aviators anyway, for the obscurity's sake.

"Thank you," I smiled at the slightly flustered cashier as it accepted my card back as well as the bag of eyewear. I started the trek back to my house, twirling Alnitak in one hand. Alnitak is my weapon of choice. As my parents had died in a mugging, I'd decided to train myself to use the least conspicuous weapon I could think of: an umbrella. Of course, Alnitak isn't just any old umbrella. The rod is dust-infused carbon fiber and the ribbing is made of dust-forged titanium. On top of that, the fabric is Kevlar interwoven with dust and there's a titanium blade included with the detachable handle. Finally, the whole thing doubles as a high-powered rifle. There's no scope, but I don't miss.

Alnitak is my favorite creation. I forged her in signal academy, where I'd been posing as a student in order to make a weapon and gain access to the training rooms. Nobody there had been a match for me. Though I was only 16 when I went there, even the teachers would've probably lost against me in a spar. But I had no interest in fighting the grim, like every one else there. I'm a bit of a vigilante. I roam the alleys, mugging the muggers. If anyone were to ask what I did I'd say I was a hunter, but people rarely ask. Hunters are usually pretty recognizable.

The walk to my place was mostly uneventful. As I turned the corner onto my street, though, I heard the sounds of someone being beaten up. I turned toward the noise, beaming at the chance to take down another scumbag and steal his money. But as I turned the corner I was greeted by and even greater sight.

A large man in a black shirt and jeans was laying on his back, knife in hand. Over him stood a tiny little girl with half pink hair and half black. She was dressed in long white boots, a black pants with a pink belt, and a black blouse under a white jacket with pink lining. But what really caught my attention was that she was twirling what appeared to be a parasol in much the same way I was spinning Alnitak. Then I saw her eyes. Mismatched, like mine. She had one pink iris and one brown. As she gaze shifted and she noticed me her triumphant smirk curved into a disappointed frown.

"Nice job," I started, regaining my cool and motioning toward the knocked-out man on the ground "My name's Orion. What's yours?" But as I took a step toward her the girl shattered into a million pieces.

A/N: Well there it is, guys! I hope everyone enjoyed the first chapter! Please feel free to review with comments, suggestions, critiques, etc. I intend to be posting one chapter per week, so you can look forward to rather frequent updates.

SPOILER ALERT FOR RWBY VOLUME 3!

This doesn't actually matter until later in the story, but this fanfic takes place after Volume 3 Chapter 12 in a world where Yang still has her right arm, Ozpin hasn't gone missing, Pyrah's still alive, and Beacon is back in session.