DoteJiEndo: I must not go down the rabbit hole… I must not go down the rabbit hole… I must not go down the rabbit ho-… I'm in the rabbit hole… I'm in the fucking rabbit hole! Goddamn motherf$#% $#^%$% %$#%%##%% $—

Durian: Dotè? … Boss? …Yeah he's gonna be at this for a while. Uh so to put it simply: Boss stalled this trailer cause he wasn't happy with it. Was only supposed to be for a couple weeks while he thought it through and found a better way… not as easy as he'd hoped…—

DoteJiEndo: — $ $#%$$^$#%#$ #%%—

Durian: —Jeez, what does that even mean?… Anyways, um, Disclaimer: DoteJiEndo does not own RWBY, only the OCs such as myself. Stay tuned at the end of this trailer for more info… once he's done cursing worse than the sailors on that ship I got on last time…

DoteJiEndo: — ! #$%^%$# #$%^&^%$# #$%^&*(*&^%$#$%^&*—

"If I got rid of my demons, I'd lose my angels."

- Anonymous

The slums of the city of Vale. Not an especially high place on any visitor's list of places to go. Sure there's the occasional hole-in-the-wall cafe that's not too grungy, or the odd dive-bar that serves booze that's not piss-warm. But it is often difficult to get past the beggars and thieves that populate its streets. Particularly in the market, where the thieves aren't just on the street; every stall hawks poor-quality goods for twice their value. Yet despite the obvious gouging (and not always the metaphorical kind), the market is near always crowded.

Which often makes it difficult for a lowly pickpocket to escape from pursuing gang members.

Bleu had spotted and followed a perfectly inattentive mark with easy to spot lime green hair. She judged it a crime to not lift his wallet for being so blind. Yet it turned out she had been blind; she had failed to realize that she had followed him into the 100 block, not only the man's home turf but also that of the gang he belonged to: the Hundred Thunders... Several of whom were watching as she picked his pocket.

Thus she found herself running through the crowded market, using every trick she knew to stay ahead of the lime-headed man and seven of his closest friends. Unfortunately, she was not particularly inconspicuous with her long ocean-blue hair nor the yellow sun dress. Not just because such bright colors were unusual in the slums, but mostly because they were clean. Bleu had taken great pains to keep herself and her possessions clean; it made her seem more harmless to potential marks. She never imagined that it could also be her downfall.

Over counters and under tables she ran, briefly glancing back at her pursuers. The instant she lost sight of that lime-green mane, she dove behind the counter of a noodle bar. She hid until the thundering of a thousand elephants died down, before poking her head over the counter.

Now normally if being pursued by a gang of thugs, this is the part where you head off in the direction you came, otherwise known as "doubling back". It's a very simple maneuver. Even little kids do it when they're playing tag. As a point of fact, it was exactly what Bleu had originally intended to do.

So why was she just standing there with a slack-jawed look on her face?

In fairness, the sight before her would have stopped the most stone-cold professionals.

Sitting on the other side of the counter sat a man... at least she assumed it was a man, it was difficult to tell through the blubber. The man was huge, like an over inflated balloon, with no other discerning feature beyond a spiky mane of black- and yellow-striped hair . Now big guys weren't exactly an unfamiliar sight, what truly drew the eye was the mountain of empty bowls next to him. The individual bowls might as well have been soup pots in and of themselves, and they were in three stacks, ten bowls high...

And there were three more full ones in front of him...

... And he was slurping from a fourth...

Unfortunately, Bleu had stared for a moment too long, as she heard shouting from behind her. Cursing her own stupidity, she took off running down an alley followed by the sound of sixteen feet.

"Right then, I don't think you realize just who you were tryin to steal from lil lass." The lime-haired gangster said as he threw a punch into Bleu's face. They had cornered her in a warehouse she tried to hide in. "We Thunders don't take kindly to thievery, least not unless it's us doin' the thieving."

The rest of the rabble gave a chuckle at that. Bleu spat out a mouthful of blood, before responding: "You lot give honest thieves like me a bad rap! I steal to eat, you steal for fun!"

He punched her again.

"Now now... I feel for you. Really I do. But ever since Old Man Yami got hisself pinched, its been getting tougher to keep our hold on the block. As such, we can't afford to give an appearance of weakness. So we've gotta make an example outta you. Nothing personal love, its just-"

The warehouse door burst open as someone shouted: "Leave the girl alone!"

All eight gangsters turned to look at the doors, expecting some kind of cavalry. It's not unheard of; even a street rat like Bleu could have some kind of muscle to back her up. Instead however, standing in the doorway was the big balloon of a man from the market. He called out, "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

...

The gangster's all started laughing. Limey managed to cough out, "Our own size? Mate, it'd take at least five of us to be your size. Now if you could waddle off, I've got a bit o' business to-"

He turned around to face Bleu, or rather where Bleu had been. While the gangsters had been laughing she had slipped away. "Blast it... It's no wonder we don't get no respect no more..."

Limey pointed to a ginger and a skinhead. "Right then, the pair of you come with me. The rest of you will entertain the big hero here."

As the first three left, the other five surrounded the big man. Were it not for his blubbery cheeks, they might have notice a maniacal grin on his face.

Bleu found herself trapped... Again...

Running out of the warehouse, she had taken off down an alleyway that lead to a dead end, with the three gangsters blocking her in. As they advanced down the alley, she could only pray for a miracle.

And then the warehouse wall burst open.

*Thunderstruck, by AC/DC*

Through the hole came flying the other five gangsters, all landing in a battered heap in the alley way. Following them out was a young man, wooden sandals clacking against the pavement. His garb was vaguely remnicient of a monk; wide black hakama pants and a black shirt emblazoned with the motif of an eye with a bolt of lightning bisecting the pupil. Over that he wore a white robe with the sleeves torn off to reveal arms marked with lean muscles. Orange gauntlets covered his arms to the elbows, with three ivory white ridges along their backs. But the most striking thing about the figure was the familiar spiky black and blonde spiked hair.

"You were wrong pal; five of you ain't nearly enough to take me," He grinned maniacally, revealing his canine teeth to be filed to points. "You three look stronger than these losers though, so how about it? Wanna tangle with the devil?"

The spiky-haired monk slammed his knuckles together then flashed a hand-sign that was, frankly, rather unholy from each.

The skin-headed gangster charged in with a howl, drawing a spiked club from his belt. The monk laughed like a madman as he dodged to the side, spinning a hook kick into the boy's stomach. He didn't stop there though; as the skinhead doubled over, he caught the monk's other foot under his chin before being struck with a barrage of punches to his torso.

As he fell to the ground, the mad monk groaned out to the others: "Come ooooon, if you come at me one-at-a-time, this won't even count as a warm up!"

Limey and the ginger looked at each other, before drawing small submachine guns from their belts and opening fire. The monk began to dodge the streams of gunfire, his movements almost bestial in nature. While Limey kept up the barrage, the ginger allowed his weapon to extend into a large parang and charged in. At last the monk seemed to struggle; dodging gunfire only to barely avoid being cut, or rolling under a swing directly into Limey's sights. But the mad grin never left his visage, regardless of the hits he had begun to take.

At last Limey had to drop the magazine from his gun, giving the monk a much needed opening. He kicked the ginger back, reeling both of his fists back and jabbing them both straight at the ground. With that action, the ivory ridges on his gauntlets extended into wicked claws, sparking with electricity. Now properly armed, the monk charged after the ginger. For whatever it was worth the ginger fought back, blocking or dodging the mad monk's strikes. But it would never last, for the monk caught the boy's parang between his claws and proceeded to break the blade between them. Amidst the shock at the loss of his weapon, the ginger was unprepared for the roundhouse kick that struck his jaw, knocking him unconscious.

The monk's eyes fell upon the last gangster, and he said in a morbid sing-song, "And then, there was one...What a pity..."

"Tch..." Limey slammed a specially marked magazine into his gun and yanked at the action lever. "Dodge this!"

As he yelled, the front end of his gun fell forward on hidden hinges, leaving the magazine open to the air. He slammed his finger on the trigger, firing every round at the same time. The burst from the gun was so sudden, so unexpected that few could hope to dodge the shot. When the smoke cleared, the monk was no where to be seen.

Limey started to laugh, pointing at where his foe had been standing, "I disintegrated him! His is why you don't mess with one of the Hundred Thunders! Hahahahaha-"

Like a bolt of lightning, the monk hit the ground from above in a flash of electrical energy, landing in a crouch. He slowly rose to his full height, his maniacal grin replaced with a deep scowl. "Did I hear you right, scum? You're with the Thunders?! The old man is in jail, and he ain't coming out anytime soon, so who the hell is calling the shots?!"

Limey threw his now useless weapon to the ground, stumbling backward from the advancing monk. "Y-you- who are you? What are you?!"

The monk stopped and glared at Limey, as Bleu stared in awe. Electricity arced off of his body,as he growled, "I'm the reason Yami's in jail. I'm the reason the Thunders should have fallen apart. None of that matters for you anymore though. All that matters for you is that I'm the reason that you're waking up in the hospital."

"N-n-onoono... They said you were dead! But you're right in front of me! You- YOU'RE THE DEMON!" Limey turned and ran out of the alley screaming at the top of his lungs. In a crackle of electrical light the monk shot after him like a bullet.

Thus the commotion that plagued the slums of Vale ended in a clap of thunder...

Bleu watched in terror as the arcs of electricity died down, the monk retracting his claws. She gasped as he then fell to his hands and knees. Maybe he was more wounded by that last attack than he let on? She thought, I don't think he means me any harm but... Should I help?

Her train of thought fell apart as a loud grumbling noise filled the air.

"...sooooooooo huuuuuungry..." the monk groaned, prompting Bleu to do a face fault.

After a brief moment of silence (punctuated by the continued growling of the monk's stomach), he climbed up into a sitting position. "I didn't catch everything they said in the warehouse, but I'd guess that you crossed the Thunders somehow right?"

Bleu climbed to her feet, ready to run, but he waved her off. "Relax kid, my beef is with the Thunders themselves. That said, they ain't gonna let you go either. Can't afford to; once word gets around that I'm still here, you're the only lead they'll be able to find. And they will find you."

Tears streamed from Bleu's eyes before she clamped them shut, panicking over what she would do next. Then she felt a hand on her head, opening her eyes to see an oddly kind smile on the formerly mad monk's face. He said, "Hey chin up kid, you're going to be just fine! I'm gonna take you someplace safe! My friends there'll look out for you, and they'll help you get on your feet, just like they did for me! But more importantly *gruuuuuummmmmmmbbbllee* ...they've got food there..."

Name: Raien Boruto

Age: 17

Height: 5'4"

Weight: 138lbs

Eye color: yellow

Hair color: Blonde and black streaks; is not clear which is dominant

Dominant colors: white and black, with yellow

Weapon: "Narukami" - concealed within the backs of his gauntlets are these ivory white claws. They are razor sharp along the inner curve, while the back edge is teethed like a saw. Other than being excellent conductors for electricity produced by lightning dust cartridges hidden in his knuckles, there is nothing particularly special about these weapons. Raien is first and foremost a hand to hand combatant.

Semblance: "Flash" - it should be noted that Raien has no idea how his own semblance works; as far as he's concerned, he concentrates on a point that he can see, he feels electrical energy surge through out, and he moves to that point faster than anyone else can perceive. What actually happens is he causes his own molecules to vibrate at extreme speeds, producing huge amounts of stored energy that, once his body can no longer contain it, explodes and launches him in a direction. It is only through sheer luck that he stumbled into a means of directing which direction and how far he is launched. This is NOT teleportation; he does physically pass through the space between his starting point and his destination, and can as such be interrupted by objects that are in that space.

Role: Raien is the teams close-quarters specialist and vanguard; being the first into the fray is most fitting for the team member with the highest speed. He is the only member on the team who has not had any formal instruction in ranged weapons of any kind (It should be noted that the rest of the team has determined that under NO circumstances should Raien EVER be given a gun, loaded or otherwise).

DoteJiEndo: -WITH A GODDAMN PIG! *deep breathing*

Durian: ... Are you good boss?

DJE: *more deep breathing* ...yeah... Yeah I'm good... Where're we at?

Durian: Well, this is the end so... Wanna tell them whassup?

DJE: Right, kay, so let it be known that this is my least favorite thing that I have written as yet, on par with that Philosophy paper I wrote in Uni *shudders* I had no idea that it would be this difficult to write a hand-to-hand combat sequence without spelling out Every. Single. Action/Movement. It was also difficult to get across the point that Raien's opponents were substantially more incompetent than he was. In many earlier drafts of this, it was a much closer fight. But the point is that these guys were low level street thugs with minimal combat experience, so it made no sense for Raien to struggle against them. Like at all. I also hope I drove home the point that Raien is "battle driven". Think of the Saiyan mentality out of Dragon Ball; he feels honor-bound to seek out fights, whether he can win them or not, and he happens to do so with more gusto than most. Also, mad props to anyone who understands the references and can correctly guess who Raien is based on! Anything else I needed to point out D?

Durian: I think that just leaves the roles and strength/weakness thing chief.

DJE: Oh right, so after looking back at what I did with the Dragon Trailer I realized that there was a bit of info I left off of the character card that I forgot. To put it plainly, each member of Team DRGN (If I have forgotten to fix the title of the story to reflect that team name, let me know) fulfills a particular role on the team that plays to their strengths, while also allowing the others to help cover their weaknesses. If I remember to fix the Dragon trailer to reflect the following correction I will, but in case I don't (read: am too lazy to do so):

- Role: Durian serves as the team's leader and as an all-rounder of sorts, acting as a mid-range combatant. He is competent with many forms of weaponry, both ranged and melee, as well as his own bodily weapons, but could never be considered an expert. In short, Durian is the personification of a "Jack-of-all-trades-master-of-none". While he does possess a tactical mind, it is simply not in his nature to stand at the rear issuing orders, favoring a more "hands-on" leadership style.

Durian: That should be about everything boss, so I think that just leaves two more teammates to introduce!

DJE: Well yes and no; while the next two characters have not seen any action at all yet, they have technically been introduced. The two ladies Nyx and Gwyn introduced in the ill-fated chapter 2 will still be serving on this team, but this time they'll actually do something other than just stand around and talk!

Until next time then!