Chapter. 1
Humble Beginnings
A lone drifter bike tore through a long stretch of an old dirt road in the Valean countryside – a drifter bike was a custom job many frontiersmen, wanderers, and nomads did to their motorcycles in order to survive the harsh wildlands in between the Kingdoms and settlements. Whilst every drifter bike is unique, some modifications are universal between all of 'em, like the ability to traverse both on and off road and having tear resistant wheels.
This particular bike was built off of a bobber with the tires and suspension of a dirt bike and was an off white color. The whole things been up-armored and extensively upgraded and modified – with the best engine, exhaust, suspension, forks, tires, and radiator credits could buy, along with a large fuel tank ripped straight off an adventure style touring bike, a NOS bottle, and saddlebags strapped over and on the butt of the bike with a bastard sword sheathed in a white chipped painted metal sheath on the left side and a collapsible stock carbine stored in a leather rifle boot on the other.
It's rider was a fair skinned, broad shouldered, man with a wiry, athletic, build. He wore a light gray, short sleeved, hoodie with a pair of blue jeans, covered by a brown leather vest and shotgun chaps respectively, with detached orange sleeves that ended just above his elbows and square toed brown leather boots, fingerless gloves, and a pair of pouched belts in an X pattern, with a chipped and scared white breast plate and full faced motorcycle helmet finishing off his attire.
The drifter crested and rolled down a hill before he noticed a commotion a quarter of a mile in front of him. Two blurs, one grey and the other tan, of people had a third pinned to their knees whilst a fourth, this blur red, put something on their hand and approached the third. The drifter sped up to see what was going on, only for the third blur's agonized scream to inform him that the scene in front of him was nothing good. The drifter's body tensed as he hit the throttle and activated his NOS.
-{O}-
Cinder had finally done it.
She had finally gotten the power that so rightfully belonged to her, that the crone of a "step mother" and her vile spawn had denied her.
And the only cost was the… former, Fall Maiden who was kneeling in front of her, bound by the gutter rats she had picked up along her travels. But she was insignificant little stepping stone in the grand tale that was to be Cinder's lif-
Cinder was interrupted from her internal monologue by a tire violently meeting her face, causing both her and the Grimm parasite to be launch backwards, ass over tea kettle, a good couple yards – subsequently disconnecting the link that would have violently and forcible given her the Maidens powers, depriving her of her self ordained power.
Cinder jolted to her feet with the fury only a woman scorned could possibly know, let alone understand, and glowered at the pest that dared to prevent her from what was rightfully hers.
The interluder was hunched up behind a white heater shield that bore twin golden crescents, with some sort of carbine pointed at them from behind the shield.
"You… BASTARD-" Cinder was once again interrupted by the new comer firing two shots at her, forcing her to dodge.
Black's whelp, Merc… something, fires at the nuisance and hits his gun, disabling it. But before any of them can even think about capitalizing on the momentary advantage, Ozpin's attack dog "swoops" in.
The thief – something something, gem, mph, how fitting – Cinder picked up looks to her. "What do we do?"
Cinder growls. "We retreat, make sure Ozpin's dog can't recognize our faces."
Cinder uses her Semblance to kick up a thick smog of dust to cover their escape. And so, the three would be assassins run. And Cinder would remain, Maidenless.
-{O}-
The drifter looks to the strange, raggedy, man now cradling the now unconscious woman, before looking to where the bandits escaped from and removed his helmet, revealing feathery straw blonde hair that fell to his neck and around wide, bright, cerulean blue eyes with a diamond shaped jaw that was lightly dusted with the beginnings of a beard.
"Thanks for the help, I don't think I could've." He turns to see the raggedy man has absconded with the woman. "Taken… them…" He sighs heavily. "Way to go, Jaune, first people you've met in fifty miles and their a couple of bandits and some weirdo, yeah!"
Jaune walks over to his fallen carbine, only to discover it was hit in just the right spot to make it so he couldn't make it work again, and would cost more than it's worth to fix it.
"At least I still have Crocea Mors…"
his mood isn't improved any when he sees the fuel leaking wreck of his drifter bike, thankfully still salvageable, but not in the middle of the Valean Wilds.
Once more, Jaune let's loose a heavy sigh. "Guess I'm hoofing it to Vale."
An equine huff and scrapping of a hove catches Jaunes attention, turning around he is greeted by the sight of a riding horse, Vacuoan maybe?, with a pure white coat.
Jaune approaches the horse carefully. "Hey…" He checks the horses underside. "Girl, it seems you've lost a rider and I've lost my bike, what saw we stick with each other until we find some suitable replacements, huh?"
After making a makeshift cart from his Dust leaking bike and some rope, Jaune makes it to the next settlement a few hours before nightfall and managed to replace his fuel tank and find the snow white mare a new home with a girl around his age, all though she seemed a lot less enthusiastic about it when she learned it wasn't a stallion, weird. After spending the rest of the afternoon doing odd jobs, in order to earn enough credits for a nights rest, some grub, and a full tank, Jaune hits the sack and bids the settlement farewell at the crack of dawns light – hopping to make it to Vale before nightfall.
-{O}-
Jaune made it to Vale a little after noon, and was then frisked and integrated till damn near nightfall – something he very much didn't want to happen – Jaune makes it to an affordable motel and starts browsing both the light, gray, and dark webs(thanks Terra!) looking for any info he could get about Beacon – and to a lesser extent Vale.
Only to discover he was a day late for Beacon's pre-initiation combat exam, for those who either didn't – or in Jaune's case – couldn't attend a prep school like Signal nor apprentice under a licensed Hunter.
Jaune flops back onto his rented bed in exhausted annoyance, before growling "Great! Now what am I going to do? That was my last chance to get into Beacon…" He sits up suddenly. "Or… is it?"
After a few agonizing moments, Jaune decides that one little white lie doesn't mean much if it means he has a chance at attaining his dream. And after roughly twenty minutes of searching, Jaune finds someone that just might be able to help him.
With his course set, Jaune hops back on his bike and drives off to a place called Junior's in the old industrial district. And after about an hours ride – he got lost once or twice, sue him he's not used to being in a city yet – Jaune parks his bike in front of the club and walks in.
Less than a minute later, a bright yellow crotch rocket pulls up alongside Jaune's drifter bike and a veritable super model dismounts and sets her bright yellow Atlasian Stahlhelm style helmet and goggles down and flicked her long, wild, wavy mane of blonde hair out of her face.
The rider was a pale skinned, broad shouldered, woman stood five foot eight inches in height with an athletic build and generous curves. Her lilac eyes held a teasing glint and her wild blonde mane fell to the small of her back, and framed her heart shaped face.
She wears a brown jacket that bares her midriff, with golden brown piping and short, puffy sleeves with black cuffs – that feature two gold buttons – underneath this she wears a low cut yellow crop top with a black, flaming, heart on her left breast.
She also wears a brown belt covered by a pleated piece of brown material that reaches from hip to hip around the back of her waist, with her flaming heart emblem emblazoned on the right most pleat in gold. Underneath this is a long asymmetrical piece of white material that reaches to her knee on her right side, as well as a pair of tight black spandex compression shorts that reach her upper thighs. She wears a pair of brown, knee high, boots with orange parigiana socks – with the right sock pushed down to just below the knee, with a gray bandanna tied around her left. An orange infinity scarf and black fingerless gloves complete her outfit.
She notices Jaune's bike and nods in appreciation. "Nice." She grins almost feraly. "Bet Hornet's faster."
She turns her eyes to the door and waltzes in, being met with a large, stark white, room filled with a DJ pumping out loud techno beats, dancing bodies on a red dance floor, and held up by red glass encrusted pillars. But the buxom blondes sights are set for the bar, where the information she seeks lies.
She approaches the bar and plops down next to a nervous looking blonde boy about her age, and seeing that the bartender was away, decided to strike up a conversation with the cute, in a dorky way, looking boy.
"Heyya! I'm Yang." She greets. "Watcha' doin'?"
"Hmm? Oh! Um, J-Jaune." Jaune replied. "And… uh… debating, I guess?"
"Ooh, what about?!" Yang grinned.
"I…" Jaune sighs and rakes his finger through his hair. "I'm thinking about doing… something… "less than legal", but n-not anything bad." He adds quickly. "I just… have you ever wanted something so… much, but for as long as you can remember no one else wanted you to have it?"
Jaune's question strikes a cord with Yang, who was here for fairly similar reasons. "Yeah… actually, I have, it's why I'm here."
"Oh, what… uh… are you here for?" Jaune asks before blushing in embarrassment. "I-If you don't mind me asking, of course."
"Gods he's adorable." Yang thought with a smile. "Na, it's fine, I'm looking for someone."
Jaune perks up. "Do you have a picture? I've been on the road for the last year or so, so I might be able to help."
"Yeah, I do." Yang opens her scroll and shows Jaune team STRQ's picture, with her mom's face zoomed in on.
Yang can tell something's off the moment Jaune looks at the photo, mainly because his face pales and his eyes nearly pop out of his head as he mutters. "So that's what she looks like." before frantically looking to her. "Look, I don't know why you're looking for… her, but take my advice, stop looking, now." but before Yang can answer, Jaune's eyes narrow before gaining a look of understanding. "You're related, aren't you?"
"Yeah…" Yang answers slowly. "She's my mom…"
Jaune sighs and shakes his head. "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but your mom's one of – if not the most wanted bandit in Mistral, heck, maybe the world."
Yang looks forward in shock, and stays that way until the bartender, a large man dressed in black slacks and vest with a white dress shirt, red tie, and black gloves with short black hair and a beard, comes back.
He set's an envelope in front of Jaune and looks to Yang. "What can I get you?"
"Whisky." Replies Yang with a blank look.
"Pegged her as more of a fruity cocktail kind a gal." Junior thought with a shrug. "Coming right up."
Jaune slips the envelope into his back pocket, but thinks better of leaving Yang like this, and so stays with her for the hour she spends drowning her sorrows, and she would've been there longer had Junior not cut her off.
Jaune ambled out of the club with an intoxicated Yang slumped and practicality slung over his shoulder.
"Okay, Yang, let's get you a ride home… where ever that is…" Jaune looks to the drunken Yang. "Where do you live anyway?"
Yang mumbled drunkenly before cuddling up to Jaune in an almost desperate manner.
"Yes… thank you… that was immensely helpful…"
Jaune mumbled before he fumbled around for his scroll. "Gonna have to buy a newer model, this one's on it's last legs anyway." Until a voice hesitantly called out and got his attention.
"Yang?"
Looking to the voice revealed a girl about as tall as the triplets, though she looked older than them by two years.
The pale skinned girl stood at a height of five foot one with a trim frame and a slightly rounder face than Yang. With black hair that gradually turned to red at the tips and unusual silver colored eyes that stared at him with both concern and curiosity.
She wore a Gothic Lolita style dress with red frills and black stocking that lead to a pair of black Gothic style boots with red soles. She wore a belt that held a couple silver anti-material rounds, some pouches, and a silver cross and rose, with a bright red hooded cloak wrapped around her shoulders.
The girl looked between the drunken Yang and Jaune, before her eyes settled on Jaune and gave him the meanest look she could muster – though it came out more of an adorable pout than anything else.
"Who are you and what are you doing with my sister?"
Before Jaune could answer, Yang drunkenly looked up and gave a toothy grin. "Hey R-Ruby! Thish ish Jaune, met… met 'im at the club… ish good guy…" Before she promptly passed out, curling up to Jaune's shoulder once more.
Jaune looks to Ruby with a look only younger siblings could understand. "Like she said, we met at the club's bar and she got too drunk to stand, so I'm trying to find her a way home."
Ruby looked down and mumbled something that sounded like. "Darn it, Yang!" Before looking back up a Jaune. "I'll get her home." She sighed before mumbling under her breath. "It's usually Druncle Qrow that makes me do this, not Yang!"
Jaune, more than use to the quirky antics of family, shrugs before securing his new "legitimate" transcripts and driving back to his motel.
-{O}-
Taiyang was less then pleased with the state of his eldest daughter, and after about an hour's worth of an argument, he sat across from said child at the dinner table.
"Now." Taiyang started with the patented "disappointed parent" tone. "Do you mind telling my why you came home trying your best Uncle Qrow impression?"
Yang, who had been slumped over until now, looked up into Tai's eyes with startling sobriety. "Yeah, I will, the second you tell me why you and Uncle Qrow never told me my birth mother is the most wanted woman in Mistral – and to make things worse, I had to learn all this from a cute guy I met in a bar!"
Tai's eyes widen and brain fries at the sudden accusation, though fatherly over protectiveness prevail in the end. "Wait, what do you mean by "cute guy"?"
Yang gave her father an unbelieving look. "Is that really what you're focusing on right now?!"
Tai, sensing a way out of this awkward as hell conversation, turns said conversation hard to port. "You're damn right! You're not allowed to date until your thirty!"
Unfortunately for Tai, Yang doesn't take the bait. "Don't think you're going to weasel out of this with your over protectiveness!" She jabs her finger into his chest. "Now start talkin'!"
Tai sighs heavily. "When… when Raven left, you were a newborn, wouldn't and don't have any memory of her. And then less than two years later, Summer and then Ruby came into our lives, and Raven didn't mater anymore, we were a family again." He looks Yang in her teary eyes. "And as far as Qrow and I are concerned, Summer Rose is your mother, always has been, and always will be."
A teary eyed Yang glomps Tai into a bear hug and mumbles into his shoulder. "Thank you."
Tai smiles contently. "Anytime, my Little Sunny Dragon, anytime."
And Fin.
My goal with this story is to have it be my take of the story of RWBY, and by that I mean to change as little as possible and try to only change what I believe needs to be, like Jaune's barely there backstory and a few bumps and dips that didn't make a lot of sense after they changed the premise of RWBY from a rule of cool action web show to a more serious story.
As you can see I've already changed one major event and Yang's introduction, mainly cause having one of your main protagonist destroying a club in what amounts to a temper tantrum isn't really the best thing you can do – especially if it adds nothing to the character or plot, and don't say it shows off her anger issues, there much better scenes that establish that, like the blow up during initiation.
And if this story isn't your cup of tea, that's fine, but please don't be a dick in the reviews about it.
Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoyed.
PS, the drifter bike is inspired by Deacon St. John's bike of the same name from Day's Gone.
PPS, added a reason for Jaune still having his bike, since I forgot to do that the first time around.
