AN: Hello everyone, a shout out to my friend Lord Crion for inspiring this piece, he designs and renders RWBY Weaponry in his spare time. His latest creation Clockwork Debonair - a Top Hat/Shuriken, inspired me to come up with an OCM and story for it. You can find it here at watch?v=kH1JGRVWHgQ. There's a link on my profile page as well, you should check out his other work while you're there.
This is my second piece of fanfiction, and i'm maybe thinking about gearing up to something bigger, so if anyone has any feedback that would be great.
The two characters in this are Amaranthine Fisher and Ashen Fume.
Hope you enjoy it!
Amaranthine Fisher stood admiring the iron beast in front of him, watching as the engine roared, billowing black smoke into the air as it pulled the rattling carriages forward on the track.
"Now flying is all well and good" Ashen grunted as she heaved another shovel of dust into the inferno before her, which glittered like rubies before igniting into a flickering orange. "But it needs so much dust it's just so dammed expensive" She paused for a moment to wipe the sweat that had beaded on her forehead, revealing trails of tanned skin amongst the light coating of ash and that she habitually wore. "Plus when you're burning that much dust, there's only one place you're going to get enough, and don't the buggers know it, there's a reason the SDC own half of the transport across the kingdoms."
Fisher listened patiently to Ashen's speech, after a few days travelling with her it had become clear that talking about why trains were Oum's greatest gift to remnant was one of her favourite past times. He made himself comfortable against the cabin wall and nodded whenever appropriate, occasionally making the vague sounds of approval.
"mmmhhh, yes, quite…".
Not that she was wrong of course, it was just there were only so many times a man could debate the merits of various modes of transport before tuning out. Not that he would ever dare say it, Fisher always made a point of being polite to people, especially those wielding heavy shovels with arms that made a lumberjack's look like noodles by comparison.
"And where's the romance of it all, where's the feeling of the wind rushing by, the smell of the smoke? Can you imagine being trapped in a metal tube watching Spruce Willis films desperately ignoring everyone and everything around you?, it's all so clinical! And the views, look out there, do you think you'd get the chance to gaze upon panoramic scenes like that in a plane!"
'Gaze upon panoramic scenes', Fisher thought to himself, 'she's been watching Kingdom Geographic again.' But still, even he couldn't deny the truth in her words there. Balancing on the stoop between the engine and fuel carriage, Fisher lifted himself up so the top half of his torso was raised above the roof of the engine car, high enough that he could see over, but low enough to avoid the trail of smoke spouting from the chimney stack up ahead – he wasn't going to make that mistake again. He kept a tight grip on his top hat as he pulled himself up. The last thing he needed was Clockwork Debonair spinning off and slicing its way through the first class carriages. The coat-tails of his jacket flapped in the wind as Fisher surveyed the land around him watching the views pass by.
The journey from the south had been smooth sailing so far, the wide open plains giving ample warning of any obstacles they may have encountered. The mountains at the Arrideon pass had threatened to give them trouble, but luckily the snows had held off and they made it through the dangerous icy pass without incident. But now Fisher watched with unease as the Emerald forest loomed before them. Although it was unusual for anything to happen, there was a reason the train companies saw fit to hire a hunter or two to travel with every journey. Mostly it just involved picking off the occasional Grimm that came to close the tracks and scaring the rest away. But forests were always the worst part of any journey. Usually when building the lines they tried to avoid them altogether, with their dense foliage giving ample cover to anything lurking within and the vegetation always attempting to grow over the tracks and reclaim the land that was once theirs. But the Emerald forest had just been too big to circumvent, so the builders had stripped half a dozen meters of trees either side of the tracks, salted the earth and said 'that's the best we can do'. Fisher dropped back into the cabin to see Ashen fiddling with the controls on the control dash at the front.
"It'll be about an hour until we get to the Emerald forest" she said by way of acknowledging his return. At least the tourists will have something to look at." From her stance Fisher could see she was as wary as he was at the upcoming change in scenery. He briefly wondered if she'd ever had to fight the Grimm herself, but he doubted she'd ever had her aura unlocked. The authorities always liked to keep the numbers of those who had aura training to a minimum, deciding as hard as it was to fight the Grimm, it was a damn sight harder policing super powered citizens. After all the trouble it had taken to catch Torchwick, Fisher conceded they may have a point on that one.
"Ladies and gentlemen this is your driver speaking, as you can see we've just entered emerald forest and we'll be arriving in Vale in an hour". Ashen's announcement brought Fisher out of his revere, and he took his position on top of the cabin again to keep a lookout.
For a while he could see nothing, but soon he saw a dark figure looming across the tracks which caused him to scream down at Ashen. "Stop the bloody train, something's blocking the way." The entire train shook as the brakes squealed in distress, the train travelling for a few hundred meters before finally shuddering to a halt. As the smoke cleared Fisher could see the solid tree trunk lying flat across the line. As he dropped back down into the cabin he could hear Ashen assuring the passengers everything would be fine and asking if they could please keep their seats until they were moving again.
"Do you think you can shift it?" Fisher asked.
Ashen face twisted into a grimace as she looked over the tree not 200 meters from where they'd stopped. "it'll take a while, but I reckon I could carve it up with the chainsaw and pull it apart piece by piece."
Fisher nodded as Ashen went over to the tools chest at the side and pulled out a huge double handed chainsaw. "Does it have a name?" Fisher quipped.
Ashen Snorted, "we're not all as pretentious as you hunters you know."
"Oi," Fisher responded as he removed his hat and deftly flicked it, revealing the serrated knives that sprung around the brim of the hat. "I'll have you know this is a weapon of sophistication and class, to leave it unnamed like a common house knife would be an insult to the craftsman who created it."
"I thought hunters built their own weapons" said Ashen.
"They do, and look at what a fine job I did."
Ashen rolled her eyes as she revved up the chainsaw and began work carving up the trunk.
Fisher winced as the load noise echoed around them. He thought about asking if she could be quieter, but the screaming of the train's brakes would have already been heard from a half a mile away. 'The best thing', Fisher resolved, 'is to shift the tree and be on the move again as quickly as possible'. He turned and scanned either side of the train. He wasn't too concerned with the passengers at the moment. As profit hungry as the train companies may have been, they built their trains solid enough to withstand a Beowulf's claws, or at least for long enough that a hunter could deal with the treat before the Grimm managed to force their way in. 'I guess it would look bad for the company if an entire train's worth of paying customers got turned into an all you can eat buffet…'
"Any idea what felled it?" Fisher shouted over to Ashen.
"No idea, sometimes if there's a storm they get knocked over, sometimes if they're old enough they fall under their own weight."
Fisher looked up at the clear blue skies. 'Not bloody likely' he thought. Ashen worked on clearing the last few pieces, the muscles of her biceps rippling like steel cables as she rolled them out of the way. In the meantime Fisher walked over to the base of the tree where the trunk had snapped, and pressed his hand against the grooves he found just above the break. However his investigations were cut short and his heart skipped a beat, as he heard a familiar growl coming from the woods left of the tracks.
"Ashen we've got company, get a shift on!"
"Just a few more seconds" He heard a grunt and a soft thump as another section of log rolled away.
Fisher flicked Clockwork in an arc at the first set of red eyes that he saw, the tell-tale howl told him he'd cleanly hit his mark as he reached out and caught his weapon as it wheeled back towards him. He cursed under his breath however as 4 burning sets of eyes glared at him from the undergrowth, followed shortly by three more.
"There's too many of them" he called out. "I'm going to try and lead them away, as soon as you're finished get back to the carriage and get the train going again."
He didn't wait to hear a response. He was already on the move as he was giving his warning, and by the time he was finished he was flipping into the treeline, skewering one of the Beowolves underneath him as he did so. 'Oum there's dozens of them' he thought, as he spun and cartwheeled around the trees, picking off the pursuing Grimm whenever an opportunity presented itself. After two minutes he was sweating freely, feeling his chest rise and fall as he bounded through the undergrowth. His aura and training meant he could push himself beyond what humans were normally capable of, but sooner or later he was going to tire and slow down, and when that happened… well, his pristine suit was going to be a little less pristine… Fisher's increasingly gloomy monologue was interrupted by the whistle of the train and the sound of its engines wheezing to life. 'Thank Oum' he thought, as he circled his way back to the tracks, wary of the increasingly loud howling and snarling nipping at his heels as he did so.
As he burst through the treeline he saw the smoke curling out of the chimney stack, and the pistons on the side of the wheels begin to pump as the train began to crawl forward. But his attention was focused on the driver's carriage. Ashen was wielding her chainsaw, trying to ward of a giant Alpha Beowolf that was attempting to force its way onto the open platform at the back. Fisher spun Clockwork towards its skull, but it pinged off the huge bony spikes protruding from its shoulders. Cursing again Fisher clambered onto the top of the carriage, before dropping down next to Ashen.
"We've got to get moving" he roared.
Ashen backed away as Fisher drew the beast's full attention, before she turned back to the controls, desperately toiling to squeeze as much power as possible out of the engine. Over the corner of the Beowolf's shoulder Fisher saw its smaller kin burst from the treeline and attempt to catch up to back of the train. Luckily the train was already moving too fast though, and soon they were left behind howling their displeasure.
Fisher dodged another lunge from the jaws of the giant Beowolf in front of him. Using the two claws it had sunk into the decking of the engine room floor; it pulled itself further into the carriage. As the beast moved forward inch by inch, Fisher was forced to give more and more ground, the wind whistling through the carriage as they sped up until the trees surrounding them were nothing but blurs. Fisher grunted as he diverted the beasts blows again and again, feeling his muscles burn with the exertion. As he was hit with a spray of spittle from the beast's mouth, and its putrid wet breath washed over him, he began to feel more and more enclosed.
'The damn roof is too low and the walls are too close' he thought as he tried to keep a level head and looked for an opening. But the space was too enclosed to flip or spin, and although his lithe form danced gracefully around the Beowolf's attacks, he knew it was only a matter of time before he slipped up. After parrying a few more blows his fears were realised. As the tails of his coat flapped around him, the Beowolf snagged it in his teeth and pulled him off balance so he fell forward; twisting so he fell on his back. 'I knew I should've worn the trench coat' he thought, as he looked up into the dark maw and the salivating teeth which promised to end him.
But then there was the smell of burning flesh and a howl from the Beowolf as it tumbled backwards and out of sight, the dark fur and its bone white spikes giving way to the blue skies above it. Fisher sat up in confusion, wondering what on Remnant had just happened. Before him he saw his soot covered saviour, wielding a shovel which still glowed with the heat of the red dust she had thrown into the Beowolf's face. There was a sickening crunch as the Beowolf fell backwards off the platform, the cart behind them rising and falling as each wheel unforgivingly ground the Grimm into the steel tracks below.
After watching a few moments to make sure it was fully dead, and glancing around to make sure nothing else was going to spring out and attack them, Ashen turned back to Fisher.
"Why the hell do you hunters wear such fancy clothes anyway? A boiler suit, that's what you need, practical, harder to get caught on things, and it'd be easier to get the bloodstains out as well."
"Ah but at what cost? We're here to provide a beacon of hope to the people, to show that they're made safe and secure by the kingdom's finest, you've got to dress for the part."
Ashen rolled her eyes as she helped Fisher back to his feet. "Yes of course, you looked very heroic flat on your arse down there".
Fisher couldn't think of anything witty to respond with, so settled for coughing into his hand and adjusting his tie. "Well thank you at any rate, I suppose I'd be having evening tea with Oum above if it weren't for you".
"Yes I suppose you would." Ashen said, smiling as she did so to take the sting out of her words. "And thank you, i'd have been a goner as well if you hadn't bought time with all your fancy dance moves."
Fisher chuckled as he smiled back. "What can I say; I'm a professional at work."
The two slipped into an easy silence after that, catching their breath and contemplating their near brush with death.
"Hey Ashen"
"Yeah"
"Did you notice anything weird about the way the elder Beowolf came straight for you and the engine".
"I'm not sure, I've never had much experience fighting Grimm before, why?"
"It's just there are all those carriages teeming with people behind us, and yet it went straight for you."
"Maybe it could see I was out in the open and thought I was an easier target."
"Hmm, but then there's the matter of the fallen tree, it looked like it had been bashed just above where it snapped."
"Are you saying that something pushed it over" Ashen said, her eyes becoming a little more wary " I thought Grimm were mindless?"
Fisher could tell that the conversation was going to a place that he wasn't ready for right now, so he slumped back against the wall and smiled back. "I'm probably just being paranoid, I wouldn't worry about it". Ashen hummed and turned back to the furnace, taking up her shovel and once again beginning the arduous work of stoking the ever-hungry fire for the last leg home.
As she did Fisher let his face fall as he thought to himself. 'Whatever was going on, if there is a chance that the Grimm are becoming organised enough to lay traps, I should tell Ozpin as soon as we get to vale'. Then after glancing down at himself he added 'right after I've gotten a shower… and a fresh suit'. It would never do to be under dressed when meeting his esteemed ex-headmaster after all…
And Fin, thanks very much for reading.