The following is a non-profit, fan-made work of fiction. RWBY and Iron Man are the respective trademarked properties of Rooster Teeth Productions, LLC and Marvel Entertainment, LLC. Please support their respective franchises and releases. This means I own jack, so don't sue me, it's all for fun. (And practice, I just wanna be a better writer.)
Author's Note 8/31/2021: Fixed up the scene in the Gill Gang Hideout. Holdovers from a previous version of the scene have been removed.
Author's Note 9/1/2021: Changed Mark "11" to "2", as it should have been. The new armor is the mark 3.
I also added a vignette at the end.
The Invincible Whitley Schnee
Chapter 19: Breaking the Ice
September 1, 2008 KC
Mantle, Solitas
Polendina Pharmaceuticals, Hidden Lab
5:30 AM
Despite the fatigue he felt from working three straight nights, Whitley Schnee was still as alert as he was when he woke up yesterday morning.
His fingers were sore and slightly worn, covered in Band-Aids, the result of having spent hours manning different tools of varying function. His skin was covered in a thin sheet of sweat, grease, and metal shavings, the proof of the hard work and dedication he put into this project. His eyes were wide and alert, despite the bags building up beneath them. This tended to happen when one neglected their sleep, all while ingesting copious amounts of caffeine.
With the gallons of caffeine he's guzzled, he was sure his dentist was going to be a rich man.
Not as rich as his family, obviously.
He turned off the polisher, the gears grinding to a screeching halt. Setting the tool aside, the young inventor removed his safety goggles and wiped the sweat from his brow. He looked upon the polished, golden faceplate, taking in its smooth surface and brilliant shine. On the other side of this piece, a highly intricate series of wires and circuits lined its interior. He had painstakingly worked the wiring and circuitry himself, including the visor that served as the HUD. He picked up the faceplate with his hands and smiled triumphantly.
At long last, the final piece of his new armor was completed!
"It looks good, Whitley." Spoke a friendly and wizened voice from behind.
The boy spun the swiveling stool he sat upon to face the owner of that voice.
Seated in his quadrupedal wheelchair, Dr. Pietro Polendina approached the young man, wanting a better look at the finished piece. Whitley handed it over to the doctor, who kept a firm but gentle grip on the mask.
He asked the old doctor, "Well, doc, does it get the Pietro Polendina seal of approval?"
"That and more, my young friend," Polendina replied, returning it to the Schnee's hands. "I take it you're ready to assemble the armor, now that the outer shell's finished?"
"Yes, I'm as ready as I'll ever be, but first..." Whitley looked to his right, "Shouldn't we wake Rhodey up first?"
The doctor followed the boy's gaze and saw the resting form of James Rhodes, currently asleep on a cot placed next to a wall. The pilot-turned-café owner yawned, tossing and turning in his sleep, his face scrunched irritably; the rough fabric of the fireproof coveralls irritated his skin, making it difficult for him to get comfortable. The two scientists watched as he turned to rest on his side, his back facing him, assuming what they hoped was a comfortable position.
Unfortunately for them, they also had to watch the tired restaurateur scratch his butt.
"Maybe later... He needs his rest. He does run a business, you know?" The vigilante suggested, knowing the man deserved some rest.
The doctor nodded in agreement, "A pain I'm all too familiar with. Trust me; there is nothing more stressful than running a business."
The Schnee scion asked, "Any advice for a future businessman?"
The old man sagely replied, "Aspirin; Lots and lots of aspirin, at least two a night."
"Noted," The boy spoke, committing that to memory. "Well, shall we finish what we started, doctor?"
"Heh-heh-heh... The honor's all yours, young man." Polendina said encouragingly, turning his chair in the direction of the armor.
The two inventors strolled toward the finished armor, which stood assembled on a small platform in the center of the room. As he approached the metal suit, Whitley took a moment to admire its design. The outer shell, while somewhat resembling the Mark 2, was sleeker with a few cosmetic changes. The endoskeleton was also a step-up, taking inspiration from the latest advanced prosthesis, while taking cues from some ideas Polendina had wanted to try. The result was a skeletal frame that was both easily collapsible and sturdy, making it easier to transport.
But what truly set this armor apart from its predecessor was the material that formed the outer shell.
In lieu of the steel-titanium alloy used by its predecessor, this new armor's shell was made from a different material. Said material was a type of wrought aluminum alloy, created by the doctor, originally meant for use by the long-defunct space program. This alloy, which the doctor had designated 2195, was stronger and denser than the prior alloy used. But the trait that decided its use was that fact it could withstand cryogenic temperatures.
The perfect alloy to counter Blizzard's freezing rays.
But Whitley's last confrontation with Blizzard taught him it's better to be safe than sorry. This mindset led him to have the alloy coated with a thin layer of gold-titanium, giving the armor a brilliant golden color. Finally, he had each individual plate laminated with Kevlar, for added protection against heat and projectile weaponry. Of course, beyond improving the range and power of the repulsor rays and thrusters, he also made additions the armor's weapons system.
What these new weapons were capable of, that was his for him and Pietro to know.
All in all, the new Iron Man was a sight to behold. With its sleeker design and new color, it wouldn't be a stretch for someone mistaking it for a living golden statue. He can imagine that the great sculptors of old are probably rolling around in their graves from sheer jealousy.
Whitley connected the faceplate to the helmet, completing the suit.
Iron Man Mark 3, the most advanced suit to this date.
"Happy Birthday, my bouncing, badass baby boy," Whitley cooed, treating the armor as one would an infant. "I just know you're gonna make papa proud!"
Watching the boy lavish affectionate praise upon the suit made the doctor chuckle. He remembered Antoinette Schnee doing the very same thing every time she finished building an impressive invention. It appeared that young Whitley not only inherited his grandmother's intelligence, but also many of her quirks. The comparison between grandson and grandmother elicited a nostalgic smile from Polendina, who remembered days long past.
A loud yawn echoed through the now-quiet lab, drawing both scientists' attention. They looked and saw that Rhodey had finally woken from his nap, the man already rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he groaned tiredly. Through half-lidded eyes, the shopkeeper looked upon the completed armor.
He commented on the suit's new look, "A little ostentatious, don't you think?"
Whitley gave the armor another look-over and quickly conceded. "Yeah, I admit the gold look's a little much. But I'd rather the gold than the silver."
"Why's that?" The man asked as he rose from bed. After cracking his back, he continued. "I mean, could you have painted it over or something? Maybe even use something to dull the gold a bit?"
"And what color do you suggest? Should we use white, blue, or just go back to silver?" Whitley scoffed with crossed arms, "Because I don't plan on using them anytime soon; and as for my reasons? Well, what's the first thing that comes to your mind when you think of those colors?"
"Atlas... oh, yeah, I see your point." The Man said in realization, adding. "The other thing that popped into my mind was Schnee. Yeah, the silver or white would've been a huge clue as to who's in the armor."
Whitley said nothing else, knowing that he had made his point. Yes, the gold was ostentatious, even obnoxious, but it also didn't scream "Atlas" or "Schnee". So long as people didn't conflate Iron Man with either two, he was content. The color also made it harder for people to connect his two identities together. After all, what kind of person would fly around in a golden metal suit?
Not Whitley Schnee, obviously.
"Still, Rhodey does raise a valid point." He heard Polendina remark. "While it certainly adds further protection to your identity, you do have to consider that Iron Man has an image now. And what kind of message does it send having a gold-colored suit?"
"It has no message. It's just a special alloy used to combat extreme cold. There's nothing more than that." Whitley argued, leaving no room for further debate. Wanting to change the subject, the boy said, "Now, we can discuss fashion later. Right now, let's just finish the diagnostic tests. After that, we can start working on something that's equally important: Finding Blizzard and formulating a plan of attack."
"Thankfully, I had someone do some investigating and he's uncovered some clues about the bipedal icebox."
Rhodey and Polendina knew instantly whom the boy was referring to. They both took the news with different reactions. Polendina, ever the innovator, was practically giddy at the thought of meeting an AI more advanced than any that have been created. Rhodey, on the other hand, couldn't help but bemoan the inevitable headache that came from interacting with the obnoxious AI.
Ignoring his guardian's downtrodden mood, Whitley approached a table where he had set his laptop upon. The portable computer was already turned on, albeit in rest mode. Displayed on its monitor was screensaver, which was a photo of a kitten sleeping in a shoe. This image was not what the young Schnee wanted for a screensaver. No, it had been chosen by the artificial intelligence that called the device its home.
Whitley pressed the space bar, causing the screensaver to disappear. In place of the sleeping kitten appeared the computer's display menu, with a small window located in its center. He pressed the maximize button on the window, which promptly engulfed the whole screen. With a quick password, Whitley called up his creation.
Suddenly, a small cat emoji popped up on screen, followed by a familiarly obnoxious voice speaking up.
"Waddup, meatbags, It's me, your boi, Vee!" the nonexistent vocal cords of V.I.C. belted out. "And while you were all busy doing arts and crafts, I worked my ass off digging up some dirt on Blizzard."
Rhodey pinched his nose and Polendina smiled at the sudden announcement. Whitley, on the other hand, rolled his eyes.
"Okay, first, we were the ones working our asses off. Second, you don't have one." He told the AI.
The cat emoji rolled its eyes, "Details, details. Speaking of which, I found out some juicy stuff for you to swallow. And some of it involves your sister and the cops!"
Whitley frowned at that. He had a bad feeling about what V.I.C. needed to tell him.
Hammer Building, Hammer Street
13:30 Hammer Time (1:30 PM)
"Mr. Hammer, we didn't know you were coming in today; do you nee- Whoa!" The poor intern was silenced by a hand being shoved into his face.
The owner of the hand rudely spoke, "Outta my way, unpaid peon."
Justin Hammer marched his way past the intern, ignoring the worried glances being sent his way. Following closely behind him was his assistant-cousin, Sasha, and the bipedal wall of meat that was his Bodyguard, Boris Bullski. As Hammer and his entourage made their way through the vast lobby, his employees took great care to steer clear of him. It was a known fact that when Hammer was in a bad enough mood, he'll fire anybody for just getting in his way.
"Oh, yeah, I almost forgot." The young CEO stopped and looked to the intern who had greeted him. "You're fired! Pack your shit and get out and if I see you in this building again, you can forget about getting a glowing reference!"
The now-former intern, not wanting to incur further wrath, immediately set about clearing his desk. The other employees, who saw this pitiful sight, looked to their employer, who acknowledged their gazes with a harsh glare.
"Do I need to fire anyone else?" He tersely asked, prompting all those present to shake their heads.
"Then get back to work!"
The employees promptly returned to their prior tasks, scuttling about the lobby likes ants. Hammer, satisfied to see his drones working again, resumed his trek toward the elevator, with Sasha and Boris following closely behind. They enter the elevator, the irate CEO pressing the button that will take him to his penthouse office. With an audible groan, the elevator lifted, shaking slightly as they passed a floor.
Hammer did not like the sound or shake in the slightest, which worsened his already foul mood.
"Sasha, I want you to get maintenance to fix this elevator." He ordered his cousin, adding. "And if they don't, I'm docking their pay for the month."
"We can't do that, Justin." Sasha replied shortly. She offered an alternative suggestion, "But we can take their mini-fridge."
"Hmmm, you know what? Do that instead." The CEO agreed, to which Sasha sighed in relief.
Suddenly, the elevator stopped, the small LED screen above the door showing that they've reached their destination. The metal doors slid back, revealing Justin's spacious and luxurious office-living space. They exit the elevator, which closes behind them.
Justin walked to his desk and sat down in his Mistralian leather-upholstered swivel chair. Sasha and Boris sat down in two wooden chairs placed in front of the desk. Hammer addressed his two lackeys with a very controlled yet displeased tone.
"Sasha, would you care to explain to me why the police are staking-out one of my banks?" He asked harshly, his eyes boring straight into her. "Now, I know I normally let you handle most of the day-to-day stuff, but why was this not brought to my attention?"
"You said you didn't want to be bothered with any quote, stressful news." Hammer's long-suffering assistant calmly replied, unbothered by his temper tantrum.
He banged his fists on the table and shouted, "Unless it involves my money, was the rest of that sentence!"
Wanting his client to calm down, Boris weighed in on their discussion. "Justin, I'm sure you're not in any trouble. In fact, there's a good chance they're doing this to smoke out the crook who's been robbing your banks. You know, the Blizzard?"
"The bastard who's stolen close to two million from out of my wallet, oh, I know all about him." Hammer retorted petulantly. "But that still doesn't explain why they're doing a stake-out now, of all times! Do they even have the manpower to pull this kind of operation off? With the retirees and cadets they drafted, I thought they'd lose most of their effectiveness."
At least, that was what he had hoped for. After becoming the MMPD's main supplier and orchestrating the strike, Hammer had thought that the loss in manpower would have severely depleted the force's capability. He had hoped that after noticing the department's depleted effectiveness, the council might reconsider his original proposal. But that depended on how well this sting operation went.
Luckily, he had a way of watching it all unfold.
Hammer pressed a button on his table, which activated a device that projected a holographic display and keyboard. The man pressed a few keys, bringing up a live security feed of the bank. Boris and Sasha gazed questioningly at the image before turning their gaze to Justin.
"Justin, what are you doing?" Sasha asked in trepidation.
"Oh, I'm just enjoying the show that's about to start." Her cousin replied. He snapped his fingers and said to Boris, "Go get us some popcorn, Bee. I don't want to miss a single minute of this."
Gill Gang Hideout, Mantle
Location Unknown
11:59 AM
With a final twist of his screwdriver, Macklin tightened the final screw on the Blizzard helmet. Now finished, he leapt off the step-ladder. Wanting to be sure he hadn't missed anything, he stepped in front of the suit and gave it a look-over. As his roamed over each and every part, he couldn't help but marvel at the suit standing before him. Even after working on this thing for months, it still took his breath away every time he worked on it.
The suit itself was tall, at least seven feet, towering over him by two. The interior suit, recycled from an old dive skin, had been tailored to fit wearer, with polymer protective plates covering the body's vital regions. The skin was colored a faded blue, a holdover from its days in the Mantle Navy.
Next to the interior suit, standing at full attention, was the metal exoskeleton that enhanced Gill's strength and speed. The skeletal frame, built using a space-age ceramic alloy, towered over him, being two feet taller than his average height of five. The frame was fully articulate, giving the wearer a full range of movement. Of course, while still was an impressive feat off engineering, the exo-suit still had two flaring design flaws.
The first of these flaws were the large cylindrical gauntlets, which housed the freezing ray Gill had invented. While the gauntlets were indeed strong and durable, they were also heavy and cumbersome, which was dismal in battle unless his boss got the drop on their opponent. They were also prone to breaking down if the freezing ray was over-used. Not to mention the tubes that connected the freezing rays to the pack powering it.
And then there were the boots, which added an extra foot to his boss' already tall height. While the boots could withstand the sub-zero temperatures, with the metal cleats preventing slipping, they were also the most exposed. While the Parka coat they designed was both flame retardant and bullet-proof, they had to trim the coat's flaps to drape just above the boots. If the flaps had been any longer, Gill would have probably tripped on the coat.
His eyes landed on the final component of the suit, the Engine Pack that powered the technology behind Blizzard's freezing abilities. Inside its titanium-forged, magnetically-sealed casing was a complex and powerful cryogenic generator. It was the culmination of years of relentless research and pioneering engineering, crafted into the most powerful weapon in all of Remnant.
Until Iron Man swooped in from out of nowhere and stopped a runaway train using nothing but his strength and laser beams.
Naturally, the gang's benefactor, the Mandarin, called upon Gill to battle the vigilante. Gill would have accepted the job without the money, seeing it as the ultimate test for their suit. To their surprise, it had been a complete curb-stomp in their favor. Unfortunately, the blasted metal man lived to fight another day.
And that day was nigh.
Suddenly, he felt his scroll buzz in his right pant pocket. Quickly, he took out it out and answered the call. He didn't need to read the caller ID to know who was calling him.
"Hey, Boss. The armor's ready. What's your ETA?" He asked Gill with an even tone.
"I'll be there in about 45 minutes. I need you to be gone in 30." Blizzard replied in a modulated voice.
"Ah, so you've given me an extra fifteen minutes. That's quite the breakthrough for our working relationship." Macklin spoke in jest, adding. "Maybe someday, we can actually do something other robbing banks?"
"Maybe, if we pull this last job off." Gill replied, keeping a cordial tone. "What do you care? When I hired you, you didn't think much of this tech. Why the sudden interest in it?"
"Well, I prefer to do something that didn't welcome the risk of imprisonment. There has to be a modicum of respect in a professional relationship!" Macklin said, eliciting a chuckle from his patron.
"I respect, you, Macklin." Gill calmly replied, adding. "Maybe after this job, we can talk about putting this tech to better use. But until then, it's robbing banks and hurting Hammer right where it hurts.
"Yeah... Okay. Good luck with your next job." He told the bank robber, careful as to not let any of his anger leak into his voice.
He ended the call. A part of him wanted to believe Gill's promise. But how good was the word of a criminal who turned to robbery out of a grudge? All the secrecy showed that the bank robber didn't respect, let alone trust him.
But after what he had just done, he wouldn't trust himself either.
He pressed in the number for another of his contacts, who had given him a task he had just completed. Seconds passed as he heard the call go through, before another modulated voice spoke through the speaker.
"Is it done?"
Macklin swallowed a lump and gave his answer. "Yes."
Coal Residence
Main Living Room
12:45 PM
Flynt Coal let out a tired sigh as he turned the vacuum off
With everything that's happened in the past month, it felt nice to finally have some alone time. When the Schnee had told him and Neon to take the next three days off, he initially thought the guy was messing with them and a bit suspicious, too. Just why would they be given three days off after spending nearly a month guarding the rich kid?
The trumpeter changed his tune when Schnee informed him and his partner that he wasn't joking. While his suspicions didn't subside, he didn't say no to a little rest and relaxation.
And so, for the last three days, he had been doing nothing but resting and relaxing. In the morning, he'd have his breakfast and endure his little sister's jests, which thankfully ended when she finally left for school. His afternoons typically consisted of him fine-tuning his weaponized trumpet, followed by some music practice and ending with a light reading of his favorite book.
But today was different. For the past hour, he has been busy doing some household chores. He's already cleaned the dishes, vacuumed the living room, and dusted every nook and cranny to be found. Being the sole member of the Coal Family currently within the building, he had to work especially hard in making the living space presentable. As to why he was doing all this cleaning?
Ding-Dong!
Having heard the doorbell, Flynt dropped the broom. "I didn't think they'd get here so quickly."
He walked to the front door and opened it. He winced slightly as the freezing wind blasted into his face, the snow somewhat obscuring his vision. While he couldn't see the neighborhood, he did see a familiar hot pink nylon hoodie that stood below him. He frowned, as he knew only one person who'd wear such an atrocious coat.
He looked down and groused, "Oh, it's you."
"Well, happy to see you, too, big bro." Gyttja Coal greeted sarcastically.
The girl shuffled past her big brother, her wet rubber boots stomping onto the carpet, leaving moistened footprints. Flynt growled at the girl's lack of regard for the carpet, having spent a good ten minutes vacuuming it. He closed the door and followed after his little sister, who had discarded her heavy pink coat onto the floor, further infuriating the young huntsman.
"You are aware that the coat hanger is right here?" He rhetorically asked as he picked the coat up.
"But I know you love cleaning things up, why kind of sister would I be if I didn't indulge my brother's hobby?" Gyttja remarked as she plopped down onto the main sofa.
With an annoyed grunt, Flynt hung the coat on the hanger. He approached his sister and gave her a reproachful glare. His harsh gaze had no effect, as the middle schooler picked up the remote and turned the television on. Not one to like being ignored, the older sibling snatched the remote control out of her hands, eliciting an irritable yelp from the girl. He quickly turned the television off, but held onto the small control in case she might try something.
"What's the problem?" She asked with a glower.
"Shouldn't you be at school?" He inquired, crossing his arms in an attempt to intimidate her.
"We were let out early, something about the snow getting worse. Didn't you see the weather report?" She replied uncaringly, unfazed by her brother's intimidating posture. "You know, it'd kill you to be a bit more informed."
Refusing to dignify that comment with a retort, Flynt chose to say. "Well, can you at least help me clean up the house? We're expecting company."
"And just who's coming?"
"Neon and Tommy," Flynt curtly answered.
She quickly changed her tune and jested, "Well, why didn't you say so? We're expecting company and you haven't even finished cleaning up the place? Oh, dear brother, you're such a slob."
Flynt groaned irritably at the smart remark. "Look, here's the deal, Geet. If you help me clean, you can have the TV until they arrive."
"And we get to order out?" She added with a smug smile.
"Fine, we'll order whatever. Do we have a deal or not?" He asked, hoping she'll agree to those terms.
Gyttja Coal tapped her chin in deep thought, as though she were contemplating a life-changing deal. With a toothy smile, she replied, "Deal!"
The middle schooler promptly shot up from the couch and went up the stairs to her room. Her brother, who rolled his eyes at her behavior, simply plopped onto the couch. Why did he have such a firecracker for a sibling?
The answer eluded him.
3:25 PM
Central District, Mantle
Graeme Street
In an apartment located across from a bank, Winter Schnee peered through the blinds of a fourth-story window. Through her binoculars, she observed the busy, snow-laden street below, waiting for even the slightest hint of suspicious activity. She did this with the same intensity she brought to every task in her life. She will not be deterred from doing her duty; her body will not succumb to the effects of fatigue and hunger.
A loud, audible yawn escaped her mouth, which she tried to muffle with a hand.
"Hey, Major, you need a break? 'Cause you've been staring out that window for two hours so far."
Correction: She was slowly being deterred from doing her duty, her body slowly succumbing to the effects of fatigue and hunger.
But she remained undaunted by such trifling things. She had to be ready for when the Blizzard and their crew arrived.
She turned to look at the farthest wall in the living room, where a sturdy wooden table stood. Upon the table sat two flat-screen monitors, their screens showing multiple images of the bank in different angles and viewpoints. In front of the monitors were a radio, and a small portable charging station for a pair of handheld transceivers. The radio speakers chattered with a continuous stream of reports from other teams hidden throughout the block.
Sitting next to the table was Detective Flynt Coal, who was manning the surveillance system. In his hands were a pencil and book of crossword puzzles. From the cover, she ascertained that he was now on the third book in a set of twelve he brought. It honestly amazed her that he'd bring this many puzzle books. But this stakeout was going to be a long one, and he needed something to entertain himself with.
She had tried to convince him to download a crossword app on his scroll. But the man refused her suggestion, preferring the traditional pen and paper to the contemporary hand and touchscreen interface.
When he saw she was looking at him, he asked. "So have you seen anything suspicious out there?"
"Well..." She spoke as she peeked through the blinds. "Thus far, I've yet to see any activity that would be considered particularly legal. All I've seen up to this point were some children jaywalking, a small fender bender, and some inconsiderate degenerate parking their car in a loading zone."
"You can call it in if it'll make you feel better." The detective nonchalantly suggested. "I wouldn't do it, though. It might give us away."
Winter was not amused by the man's casual attitude toward this operation.
"Are you incapable of taking this seriously?"
"I am taking this seriously. But I need to keep a cool head, which is why I brought these puzzle books." He replied, waving the small pocket-sized book in his hand.
With an exasperated shake of her head, the specialist returned to observing the street below.
As she peaked through the window blinds, Winter wondered whether or not this stakeout will bring ant results. She and her partner for this lookout, Detective Coal, have been observing the bank across the street for several hours thus far. It was now a quarter till five and the bank will be closing soon. She knew Blizzard will strike at some point after night fell, but the young woman doubted she can stay awake that long. She wasn't even sure if she'll still have the energy to fight the criminal when the time came.
Suddenly, the sound of a rumbling engine brought her attention to a spot directly below their position. She beheld a large, white box truck, which parked itself on the curb next to the apartment. When the vehicle ceased movement, she expected to see the driver exit the truck and open the large spacious container. Minutes passed and no driver appeared.
While not outright suspicious, it still warranted a continued observation.
It would be three hours before she decided to call it in.
6:30 PM
Down on Graeme street, a patrol car parked on the curb next to the bank.
From the vehicle exited two uniformed officers. The driver was a pale-skinned man in his mid-forties, a twenty-year veteran of the force, dressed comfortably for the frigid temperature. With a stern expression, he looked across the street and beheld a box truck. Staring at the truck, he narrowed his eyes and adjusted his holster, readying himself to search its container. He turned around and looked over the car's roof at his partner.
"Focus up, Woo. There's the truck dispatch told us about." He told the car's passenger, his tone stern and curt.
Dressed much like the older officer, James Woo, a twenty-something rookie of Kuchinashian descent, felt his body tense at his partner's tone. Just how can a man's voice be colder than the actual cold nipping at his nose?
Truth be told, the young man felt intimidated by his partner, Theodore "Ted' Ketch. The man's experience, which far outweighed his own, made him feel very small. To compare the two officers was like comparing a sapling to a tree, the vast difference in their years as clear as day. Though to call Woo a sapling would be a gross overestimation. He was more a seed, considering he'd been drafted into the force before completing his training.
To put it simply, Jimmy Woo was in over his head and he knew it. Also, he was pretty sure that Ted hated him, considering that the older officer rarely spoke to him.
And when the man did speak to him, it was usually to criticize and point out his poorly-developed skills.
He nervously replied, "Y-y-y-yes, sir, f-f-focusing now, sir!"
Woo hoped that his stuttering tone didn't warrant a scathing comment.
Ketch glowered and sternly reprimanded the rookie, "And could you not freeze up? If the cold's not gonna get to you, being a nervous wreck. Stop acting like a kid playing a cop and just be one already."
Whatever hope he felt was promptly crushed and recycled into doubt.
Was the man even capable of using positive reinforcement?
"Let's go and talk to the driver." Ted ordered, shutting the car door before walking across the ice-laden, snow-covered street.
Woo shut his door and followed after his partner. As they approached the suspect vehicle, the young man looked skeptically at it. To any passing pedestrian and motorist, the box truck would have been an innocuous sight, with its bland white paint job and cargo hold embossed with the logo of a food delivery company. At first glance, the scene before him wouldn't have been anything out of the ordinary.
Until one were to remember that the nearest restaurant was a four-block walk away.
And the truck's driver had chosen to park this far away from it and right next to a furniture store, of all places; A furniture store that just so happened to be situated right across from a bank. A bank that was coincidentally under observation by the department for a potential robbery...
Woo's eyebrows shot up in worry. He had a bad feeling in his gut; a feeling that he and his partner were walking into a word of trouble.
Woo placed a hand on Ketch's shoulder, stopping the officer in his tracks. He told the older man in worry, "Something doesn't feel right here, sir. We should call for back-up."
Ketch rolled his eyes, dismissing the younger man's suggestion. Not even three weeks into their partnership and suddenly Woo thinks he calls the shots? Oh, the arrogance of youth.
Ketch shoved Woo's hand off and curtly replied. "It's just a delivery truck, Woo."
"But doesn't it strike you as odd that a truck carrying frozen food would park four blocks away from a restaurant?" Woo argued, trying to convince the stubborn old officer. "And it happened to park right next to one of the banks we're watching?"
"It's a coincidence, rook." The older man said with a shrug.
Woo furrowed his eyebrows and pointed out, "And didn't the dispatch say this truck has been parked for three hours... and that the driver hadn't even left the vehicle in all that time?"
Ketch's nostrils flared in annoyance. He was getting tired of indulging the rookie's paranoia.
Not wanting to waste any more time, he spoke conclusively. "The driver probably fell asleep at the wheel. It happens a lot. So much, in fact, it might surprise you. Now, pull up your big boy pants, tighten your belt, and start acting like a gods-damn police officer!"
Now understanding convincing the older cop to reconsider was a lost cause, Woo silenced whatever few arguments he had left. While still suspicious, he conceded that Ketch may have a legitimate point. The car traffic in Mantle had always been a nightmare, with slow transit and long lines. Compound these problems with the snow and ice, and the nightmare became a full-on hell. Despite the dozens of snow trucks plowing through the streets, the snow was piling up faster than it can be shoveled. Entire streets have already been closed off, thousands of cars were buried under several feet of snow, and the city's heat generators could do diddly squat.
Just the fact that they arrived in under an hour was a miracle in of itself.
Still, in spite of everything his partner said, Woo was not going to take any chances. He guided his right hand to his holster, his fingers lightly caressing the strap. His right glided up to the walkie fastened to his coat.
The two officers proceeded to the cab of the truck. Ketch wiped off much of the frost on the door's window and saw the driver. Rather than sleeping, the man was wide awake, his fingers furiously tapping the screen of his scroll. The officer tapped the glass, startling the vehicle's operator, who quickly shut his scroll off and turned the keys in the ignition. The engine let out a noise akin to a growling lion, which nearly made Woo jump out of his skin.
The window rolled down slowly, snow falling from the glass and the frost scratching at the rubber slits. The driver looked at the two cops and gave them a smile.
He asked with an innocent tone, "Is there a problem, officers?"
Unmoved by the man's genial attitude, Ketch ordered curtly, "License and registration."
The driver frowned, but ultimately acquiesced to the order, pulling up a small plastic card and a folder. Ketch took the documents and looked them over. Woo stood off to the side, eyeing the driver suspiciously. He couldn't explain why, but there was something about this driver that didn't sit right with him.
Ketch handed the documents back and said. "Sir, please exit the vehicle."
The driver nodded and opened the door, exiting the truck. Now standing with the officers, the man inquired. "Have I done something illegal? This is a loading zone, so I don't see what warrants the third degree."
"We received a dispatch about your truck. Something about you being parked for hours," Ketch told the man. The officer crossed his arms in an attempt to look intimidating. "And in all that time, you didn't leave your vehicle once. Care to explain why?"
"I was waiting on some guys to come out and help me." The driver answered, eliciting a raised and sceptic brow from the officer. The veteran cop commented in disbelief, "For three hours?"
"It's very good food I'm hauling here."
"You don't say?" The cop asked rhetorically. "Then you wouldn't mind showing us this, good food?"
The driver tensed, which both officers noted. Ketch remarked, "Unless, you have something to hide?"
The driver narrowed his eyes, anger flashing in his eyes. Before he did something stupid, the man took a deep, calming breath. With a forced smile, he replied. "I have nothing to hide. Follow me."
The driver walked away from the officers, heading straight for the back of the truck. The two officers followed him. Ketch turned to Woo and said, "See, nothing's going on here."
Woo glared incredulously at the older man, "Didn't you notice he got a little angry when you asked about the hold?"
"Ah, he's just upset we're making him open it for us. Nobody likes cops telling them what to do. Trust me, kid, I've been doing this long enough to know that." The veteran replied, which only further enflamed the rookie's paranoia.
While the young cop could accept the reasoning behind his partner's admittedly arrogant remark, it didn't do much in assuaging his worry. He just can't shake the feeling that something was going to happen. The driver, while initially very genial and friendly, had become cross for a brief moment. If he had nothing to hide, then why get angry?
He didn't have time to dwell on it, as he and Ketch had finally reached their destination. The three men didn't have much room to move, being wedged between container and a parked car. It was not an ideal position to be in, especially when investigating a suspicious vehicle. Should anything happen, Woo doubted that he and his partner would be able to take cover in time.
They watched as the driver unlocked the door with his keys. Woo readied himself for a possible firefight, while Ketch just leaned against the hood of the car. The driver gripped the metal handle of the door and pulled with all of his strength. The metal sheets creaked as they slowly rolled upward, much like a garage door. Despite themselves, the two policemen winced at the noise.
"Well, take a good, long look, officers." The driver remarked as the door lifted.
But as it lifted, Woo noticed something strange. As the door began to lift, he saw what appeared to be a pair of black boots, made from sturdy leather and padded with metal. And it wasn't alone, as several more pairs came into view. Slowly, pants were revealed, followed by bulletproof vests and heavy coats.
A rough-voice called out, "Freeze!"
And then he saw rifles, twelve in total, wielded by a dozen pairs of gloved hands. The weapons clicked as their safeties were switched off, their laser sights dotting the officer's bodies like pointers. With nowhere else to look, Woo gazed upon the faces of the gunmen, which were hidden by black tactical masks.
And with nowhere to run, the rookie did what anyone facing the barrels of a dozen locked rifles would do. He raised his hands and put them behind his back.
"Oh, shit..." Ketch swore, his confidence leaving him as he too assumed the position.
Woo said nothing as he too assumed the same position, inwardly panicking at the sight of a dozen gun barrels being aimed at him.
But that was when he heard a noise that sent a shiver down his spine, one that he can only describe as a Dust generator humming. If said generator were possessed by a Geist, that is. His eyes looked behind the gunmen, peering into the deepest part of the concealed transport. Shuffling in the shadows was a figure, large and tall.
The criminals stepped aside, creating an opening for the figure to move through. That's when Woo saw what appeared to be two orbs of brilliant blue light gazing at him, static and unmoving, completely void of emotion. The sight of those eyes, if one could even call them that, put the fear of the Brothers in him.
Suddenly, there was a bright light. The two officers shut their eyes, blinded by it.
What they didn't see was the illuminated vortex spiraling right at them!
Caught unawares, the two policemen were thrown back by the force of the blast, crashing into the windshield of the car behind them. Pain erupted as tiny shards of glass cut through their clothes, piercing their skin, with the car's metal body breaking some of their bones. At least that's what they would have felt, if they didn't feel like they were trapped in an ice cube.
Woo opened his eyes and saw, to his horror, that his body was actually frozen in ice!
He looked to his right and saw his partner was also trapped in an icy prison. The man's entire torso was frozen, stuck to the hood of the car, his hands shaking and teeth chattering from the extreme cold.
The sound of heavy metal feet crushing snow, ice, and concrete drew his attention back to the truck.
Looming over the incapacitated officers was a figure that could only be described as a giant. A monster wrapped in an oversized coat, with equally disproportionate forearms and hand. The giant looked down at him, its glowing blue eyes piercing right into his soul. Was this the end for him? Was this really the moment he was going to die here? Frozen to a car by an ice-shooting monster?
Yes, this really was the end for him, he thought.
But then then the monster shook its head and walked off, not even sparing him a second glance. Its minions followed suit, passing by the officers as they followed their leader.
Overwhelmed by everything that had just happened, Jimmy Woo fainted, his head limping back onto the roof of the car.
His attacker strolled across the street, ignoring the cries of fleeing civilians and the lashing wind. But then they stopped in their tracks and turned to face the apartment complex just buildings away from the truck. Their glowing blue eyes locked onto the third floor of the building, focusing on the second window to the right. Standing behind the glass, looking down at them through some binoculars, was a white-haired woman in tactical clothing.
Blizzard raised their left arm, opening palm of the armored hand attached. A brilliant white glowed from its center.
"GET DOWN!" Winter shouted as she leapt away from the window.
Suddenly, a spiraling beam of wind and ice shot through the glass window, bombarding the ceiling!
Ice formed around the window frame. The frost spread across the wall, spilling onto the floor and rising to the ceiling. Wooden boards creaked as they began to splinter, with some warping splintering outright from extreme warping, exposing the metal pipes. the pipes groaned as they froze over, the water pumping through them solidifying, threatening to burst the metal tubes open. Winter saw all of this happening, watching everything unfold with a horrified fascination.
She had no idea that Ice Dust could be this powerful? Was it even dust to begin with? Just how powerful were Blizzard's weapons?
These questions she had no answers for.
But what she did know was that their stake-out operation had been compromised, and in the worst way possible. And two officers have already been taken out. That realization made her seethe in boiling hot rage, evaporating the fear and shock that had taken hold of her. She rose up, unsheathed her rapier, Carte Blanche, and looked to Detective Coal, who had been able to find cover.
"Blizzard's here. Two officers are down, call for reinforcements!" She shouted over the rushing wind and cracking ice.
Coal nodded and got on the radio, "Suspect on-site! Requesting immediate reinforcements and emergency services, two officers are down!"
He looked from the radio to the specialist and saw her running toward the beam.
"Schnee, what the hell are you doing!" He cried in alarm, wondering if she had lost her senses.
Winter ignored the man's cries as she charged right at the beam. She summoned her aura and leapt, all while waving her sword. Behind her, a luminescent white crest flashed into existence, and from its center leapt the spectral recreation of Beringel, a grimm resembling a demonic gorilla, it's black, oily skin now a white, crisp white. The Ape wrapped its powerful arms around the specialist, guarding her body with its own from Blizzard's attack.
Unfortunately, its great size couldn't fit through the window frame.
Instead, it destroyed the wall, which broke apart! Splintered wood, burst pipes, and chipped bricks flew through the air, all over the neighborhood!
This bombardment of debris sent Blizzard running for cover, along with their crew, hoping to evade the rain of debris flying right at them. The criminal slid behind an abandoned parked taxi and flipped it over, using it as a shield. They listened as the street was pelted by a barrage of fast-flying brick, metal, and wood. Not even the taxi was safe from this onslaught, as the bank robber felt the vibrations of the debris impacting the car's body.
When the sounds ended, the criminal peaked over the taxi to survey the area. In the distance, they made out a lumbering figure, equal to their height, with a body as white as the falling snow. Suddenly, the mysterious figure shattered, its body becoming small particulates of glowing dust. That was when they saw a crouched woman, dressed in tactical winter wear, holding a sword that had been driven into the street.
The woman rose and looked over the neighborhood.
They heard her shout in an authoritative voice, "Blizzard! By the authority of the Greater Kingdom of Atlas, I, Winter Schnee, place you under arrest! Cease all felonious activity and surrender!"
Blizzard delivered their response, "You can take that authority and shove it up your ass, bitch!"
Blizzard rose and kicked the taxi's undercarriage, sending the car hurtling toward the specialist!
Winter quickly rolled to her right, the taxi missing her by only a few inches. The vehicle crashed into the building behind her, the Dust in its engines igniting, setting the area ablaze. Seeing her target was now vulnerable, she took the initiative and settled into an offensive stance. She summoned her aura and charged, shooting at the criminal with the speed of a bullet!
But Blizzard reacted faster, with the armored crook planting slamming their palms onto the ground. Suddenly, the snow beneath their palms solidified into ice, which spread to cover the entire street!
Caught off guard by the sudden freezing, Winter slipped, falling on her back. The specialist slid across the ice at great speed like a hockey puck, heading right toward Blizzard, who stood like a goalie ready to snatch said puck. The specialist stabbed her sword into the ice, stopping her sliding.
She rose, only to be blasted by two vortexes, which sent her flying back. Like a small rock skipping across water, the woman's bodies bounded upon the ice, her aura keeping her from getting injured. When she finally stopped bouncing, the stunned warrior stumbled back to her feet, her vision blurry and stomach churning from nausea. Her aura might have protected her body, but it still knocked the wind out of her. But it proved no problem, as she recovered in seconds.
Of course, she recovered just in time to see Blizzard standing tall, their arms aloft with the palms of their hands reaching into the sky. Another pair of vortexes shot out from those hands, shooting into the heavens.
What is this scum doing? Winter wondered, confused by the strange act.
Anticipating another attack, the specialist took a defensive stance, readying herself to summon another Grimm construct to defend her. But the attack never came, as Blizzard just held their pose, unmoving and shooting into sky. Just what was the criminal hoping to accomplish?
Still, she recognized this moment was an opportunity.
But as she readied herself to go back on the offensive, she felt something small, hard, and cold strike her forehead.
"What the...?" The specialist wondered aloud, only to be hit by another unknown projectile.
She looked to the sky and felt her heart drop at what she saw. It wasn't snowing anymore. Instead of snowflakes, what she saw were pellets of ice. Somehow, the snow had solidified into ice, with bits as small as dice and chunks as big as basketballs falling from the sky!
Reacting quickly, Winter stabbed her sword into the ground. Using her semblance once more, she willed another glyph into existence, summoning another Beringel. The ethereal construct covered her body with its own, serving as a shield against the ice. The ice pelted the beringel's body, chipping away at it, but it held on in spite of it. Winter let out a relived breath, glad that something had finally gone right for her.
BANG-BANG-BANG!
Suddenly, the sound of gunfire was heard, melding with the pelting ice into a chaotic cacophony. Winter peeked from behind her monster and saw Blizzard was still standing still with their arms held aloft. But the criminal was no longer alone. Slowly approaching from behind her, with assault rifles trained on her position, were four men dressed in black combat gear.
She had forgotten Blizzard had arrived with a crew. But weren't there more than just these four?
Her eyes drifted back to her target and saw that the other gunmen were now engaged in a fierce firefight with the Mantle police. Among her reinforcements, she made out the form of detective Coal, who was alternating between shooting and taking cover.
She can't let them risk their lives in a battle she was meant to fight alone.
The specialist commanded her beringel to attack the approaching gunmen. The summoned grimm turned around and beat its powerful chest with its fist, letting out a challenging and ferocious roar. It went into a dead run, intent on pouncing upon the gunmen. The monster leapt, fists raised over its head, ready to smash the criminals into mush. But just as the Grimm construct was about to land, another vortex slammed into with great force, shattering it into non-existence!
Winter looked and saw Blizzard was slowly approaching her, now back on the offensive. She knew that as long as Blizzard's freezing weapons functioned, there was no chance of her coming out of this fight victoriously. She rose to her feet, sword at the ready, and launched herself at her opponent using her aura-enhanced speed.
Knowing the gunman had to be taken out first, the Schnee quickly set about pacifying them. She jumped into the air and using the Dust in her sword, struck the ground where they stood. The crooks were forcefully stopped in their tracks. They looked down and saw their feet encased in ice that was quickly reaching up for their knees. Suddenly, their weapons were snatched out of their hands, courtesy of one Winter Schnee.
With these men indisposed, Winter was free to attack Blizzard. She ignited the fire Dust in her sword and swung it downward, sending a wave of flames down onto the iced road. Wherever the fire hit, the ice melted, giving the woman a clear path to her opponent. She charged once more, using the foot path that she had created.
Blizzard saw this and charged as well, with a speed not found in those sharing their height. The criminal clenched their metallic fists, ready to pummel the specialist into the ground. Now within striking distance of each other, the two combatants readied their attacks. Winter twirled, her sword held low, to use the momentum to increase the force of her strike. Blizzard reeled their fists back, hoping the strength of their armored punches would be enough to shatter the woman's aura.
But Winter's attack never came.
With Blizzard having fallen for her feint, the specialist ducked and rolled between the criminal's legs, right under the oversized parka. Coming out on the other side, she jumped back to her feet and slashed her sword across the bank robber's back. Her steel blade struck true, cutting through the fabric of the coat, which was stronger than she realized.
Having felt the strike, an indignant Blizzard growled and swung around, their arms stretched outward, intent on clotheslining the specialist. Winter leapt high into the air, her body curling up as she jumped over her opponent's head in an arc. But this proved to be a mistake on her part, as Blizzard brought their arms up, grabbing her by the arms!
Trapped in the grip of the criminal, the specialist tried to wriggle her way out their hold. All that her struggle accomplished was irritating Blizzard further, whom increased the strength of their grip, damaging the woman's aura. The soul shield held, but the Schnee knew that any more pressure will shatter her aura completely.
Enraged, Blizzard growled at their prisoner, "That was a mistake, bitch! Do you know long it took to make this damn coat?!"
Blizzard pressed their metallic thumbs into the specialist's chest, eliciting a panicked gasp from the specialist. Winter knew that so long as those thumbs kept pushing into her chest, her Aura will shatter, followed by her chest caving in. Having dropped her rapier when she was caught, all the desperate Schnee could do was to try and kick her captor. But to no avail.
"Ah, a little fight still left in you? I like that!" Blizzard remarked mockingly. "Let's see how long that lasts!"
The criminal strengthened their grip, straining the Schnee's aura to its breaking point!
With her aura struggling to stay up, Winter began to feel the pressure of having large metal hands crushing her body. She had no weapon, she can't escape, and her aura was likely to shatter any second. Was this how she was going to die? Crushed to death by a walking refrigerator?
As the young woman saw her life flash before her eyes, something unexpected happened.
A small explosion erupted from behind Blizzard's head, stunning the criminal and releasing Winter from their hold!
"Alright, who's the dead man that did that?!" Winter heard Blizzard snarled in rage, turning their back to her.
She heard the criminal shout in unrestrained hatred, "YOU?!"
"Cheap shot to the back of the head, I know, it's a dirty move." She heard her savior remark, their voice metallic and deep. "But then again, what right do you have to complain, since you tried to drop a building on me!"
With Blizzard distracted, Winter retrieved Carte Blanche and retreated, putting some distance between her and the criminal. Now at a safe distance, she could finally get a look at the person who saved her. Her jaw nearly dropped when she saw him, completely dumbfounded. He looked different from the file photos, the golden body having thrown her off for a bit, but there was no mistaking who saved her.
Hovering in the air, only a few feet above Blizzard, was none other than Iron Man.
The vigilante asked with a challenging tone, "Ready for round two?"
I know, I know, another cliffhanger? I'm just as disappointed. But to be fair, I've been job hunting, writing other stories (including an original one I'm hoping to get published), and playing the director's cut of Ghost of Tsushima. I've also been trying to find ways to improve how I write my stories, which is proving to be difficult.
Character Voice Actors:
Detective Flynt Coal (Bumper Robinson)
Officer Jimmy Woo (Randall Park)
Officer Theodore Ketch (Dana Synder)
Gyttja Coal (Cree Summer)
Now, the rematch will be featured next chapter, and it is gonna be a long one, with plenty of action, character development, and a revelation.
Next Story to be Updated: Assassin's Creed Revenants
Vignette: Dear Winter (The First Letter)
Dear Sister,
I hope this letter finds you in good health.
My first week at Beacon has been, shall we say, eventful. I have met my partner, become part of a team, and have learned so much in the past few days.
First, I would like to tell you about my team. The three girls that live with can be best described as a collection of clashing personalities with unique character. My partner, Ruby Rose, can be best described as an optimistic, endearing klutz. I had met her before initiation and I was quick to write her off as a incompetent dunce for having disturbed my luggage. The fact that she sneezed after inhaling some Dust, triggering an explosion, did not help matters either. Admittedly, it was my fault as well, since I was the one who shook the Dust vial. But she surprised me during initiation, showing great ingenuity and skill when it came to fighting the Grimm. After spending a week with her, I can honestly say that while she's not my ideal partner, she is a person I can trust to watch my back.
I think she may suffer from some form of arrested development. Her obsession with cookies and milk is somewhat disconcerting. Not to mention her behavior in class. And her obsession with a web-slinging masked vigilante is worrisome.
Oh, and Vale has a "Superhero" now.
The next member of our team is Yang Xiao-Long, Ruby's older half-sister. Yang, from what I've seen, is a very confident and bold young lady. She is also obnoxious, shameless, and possesses no concept of personal boundaries. She insists that she's the life of the party, no matter where she is, even if its a classroom. She also makes puns. Vey bad puns. She often says she starts every morning with a "Yang". I don't get it, either. But what she lacks in manners and dignified poise, she makes up with brute strength and boundless determination. it wouldn't be a stretch to say that the girl can punch out every single student in our class. She's also proven to be a reliable teammate.
I just wish she'd stop leaving hair in the shower drain. I love my hair, too, but I don't spend forty minutes fixing it.
I am also convinced that she may have been the one who stole my hand lotion.
The last member of our Team, Blake Belladonna, is a person I can see myself getting along with. She shares my love for literature and the arts, which led to us both joining Beacon's Student Book Club. However, I can't help but feel that she's hiding something. I am also sure that she doesn't like me much, considering she goes out of her way to criticize our family's company and its practices. I've a feeling she might be a Fang sympathizer, but she doesn't look like a faunus. But we get along well enough to be civil, in spite of our opposing views. She might also be from a similar background as me, considering her impressive knowledge of politics and business.
I wish to write more, but I need to get my homework finished. I mustn't get behind on my studies, as you've taught me. I hope to hear from you soon, and expect another letter to arrive soon.
Your loving sister,
Weiss
P.S. Don't tell father.
Extra Vignette: Chatroom Confession
BookwormBell3: Hey, Yang. I noticed your hands were sore after that spar with Cardin. You need any hand lotion?
IBurnH34rts: Yeah. I can use some. You got any?
Bookwormbell3: Yeah, I swiped some from Weiss while she wasn't looking ;D!
IBurnH34rts: Ha, who knew you had sticky fingers?
...
IBurnH34rts: You know because you have lotion? And you stole it?
...
BookwormBell3: Gods damn it, Yang...
-BookwormBell3 has left the chat-