Disclaimer: I'm using this story as an outlet for the ideas I've had in the course of thinking of stories to write and stumbling on a bunch of inconsistencies and plot holes.
I'm not claiming to "fix" RWBY or that this will be better than the original. There will be changes made, mainly to make it easier for me to write, ranging from small to gigantic.
If this isn't your cup of tea, I understand and wish you the best of luck finding an enjoyable story to read, just please don't be a dick about it in the reviews – that's all I ask.
I hope you enjoy the chapter, and feel free to review it as it'll only help me.
Book. 1
Vale
Chapter. 1
Sic Parvis Magna
Pale moonlight blanketed the Kingdom of Vale, broken only by the cool glow of holographic streetlights and the pitch-black, shadowed corners where the vilest humanity has to offer scampers and cowers from the light.
Emerging from one such dark corner, a cabal of criminals slinked from the shadow into the light that illuminated the main thoroughfare of the Commercial District.
The lead man – infamous gentleman thief, Jackson Torchwick – pauses and pulls a cigar from his coat pocket, lighting it up with a small chunk of Fire Dust in the center of his palm.
Torchwick is a tall, lean man who stood six feet even, with a fair complexion and bright orange hair slicked back from his angular face – which bore a hawkish nose and thin lips stretched into an ever-present smirk, with mischievous light gray eyes.
He wore a pretentious, ¾ sleeved dark-green frock style coat with an orange lining and matching cuffs – with a luminescent orange Jack o' Lantern emblazoned prominently upon the back. Underneath this, he wore a pair of brown, tattersall style trousers with a cream-colored asymmetrical, high-buttoning vest over a black turtleneck. He also wore black dress shoes with matching opera style gloves tucked into his coat sleeves and held in place by two small, orange banded belts. To finish off his attire was a small, black top hat with a small white feather tucked into its red silk band, alongside a modified joker playing card that bore a Jack o' Lantern instead of a jester.
With a flourish and a smile, Torchwick twirls his Mechashift cane – a dull gray metal cane with red and silver accents named Melodic Cudgel – under his arm and looked back to the men under his employ before sharply nodding his head in a gesture to follow.
The men – all of whom bore oriental features, do to their Mistralian heritage, and matching one-piece black suits with matching shirts and fedoras with red ties and aviators – nodded and silently followed, all carrying a single, large black suitcase.
Torchwick made his way down the thoroughfare, causing the night owls of Vale to scatter and scurry away at the sight of him – something that makes his smirk grow even larger. His destination, a small little mom and pop Dust shop known as…
From Dust 'Till Dawn
Boldly entering the store like he owned it, missing the teenage girl sat behind a wooden shelf, Torchwick strolls up the counter with a cocksure grin and speaks in a melodious, singsong manner. "Do you know how hard it is to find a Dust shop open this late?"
The shopkeep – a balding, elderly Mistralian man dressed in a red polo and gray slacks covered by an apron – raises his hands as one of Torchwick's men points a semi-automatic at his forehead.
"J-Just take my lien and go!" Stuttered the shopkeep.
Torchwick shushed the Shopkeep before speaking in a soothing manner. "We're not here for your money." He looked to his men with an uncharacteristically stern look. "Grab the Dust."
The lead man nods and sets his suitcase on the counter, opening it to reveal reinforced cylinders and foam cutouts.
Three of the hired goons each grab a vile before walking over to the other wall where the "powdered" Dust dispensers resided and started filing up their cylinders.
Meanwhile, the last thug stays behind and growls at the shopkeep. "Fire Crystals. Uncut. Now."
Hands shaking, the shopkeep complies and unlocks his display case, before taking them out one by one and slotting them into the foam cut outs.
In no time at all the first case is filled, with a second one being placed and opened on the counter.
Placing a cylinder into the case, a thug pauses as he hears faint music coming from the back of the store. Drawing his blood red machete, the thug slowly creeps towards the source.
Turning down an aisle, the thug finds the source of the faint music – a teenager sat cross-legged reading a magazine, covered by a bright red, hooded cloak.
"Hey, put your hands up!" Ordered the thug. "Now!"
But the teen ignored him, flipping a page of her magazine instead.
Eye twitching, the thug stomps forwards and yanks down the teens hood.
With a jump the teen whips her head towards the thug, looking up at him with a questioning look in her eyes, to which the thug motions towards his ear.
Getting the message, the teen removes her bright red, over the ear headphones and speaks in a soft, drawn-out drawl. "Yeah…?"
The thug's eye twitches again. "I said, put your hands up. Now!"
"Are you… robin' me?" Replied the teen.
"Yes!"
"Ohh…"
Back at the front of the store, Torchwick leaned over the counter as he waited for his men to be done. Only to hear sounds of violence and Mistralian style martial arts cries emanating from the back of the store, resulting in one of his men to be launched violently through the front window of the store – followed shortly by a red cloud.
"Oh, fer fook's sake…" Torchwick sighed as he bowed his head and pinched his nose in annoyance.
Rising from the counter, Torchwick strolls out of the store with his retinue following. Once outside, they discovered the fate of their fallen comrade – as an action pose stepping stone for a cloak bedecked teenage girl.
The girl smirks as her cloak dissolves into a collared half-cape, reaching behind herself and unfurling a giant, red, fuck-off scythe and slams its dual-blades into the ground next to her.
The curvaceous teen stands tall at five foot seven with a pale complexion and a messy, feathered bob framing her round face – which bore a button nose and heart-shaped lips covered in black lipstick, with large silver eyes framed by black, panda smudge style eyeliner – with two cowlicks sticking up from the top of her head.
She wore a black, long-sleeved, plunging neckline shirt that was covered by a burgundy under bust corset with red trim and lacing – with a scale-like pattern going up the sides – over a red plaid, pleated skirt and a pair of ripped up dark stockings. She also wore a pair of leather, burgundy combat boots with matching fingerless driving gloves and a pair of bulky, red metal bracers that cover her whole forearm.
"Come on, boys!" She smirked and cocked her hip. "Don't cha know its rude to keep a girl waitin'!?"
"Well, what are you waiting for, an invitation?" Torchwick looked at his men to either side of him. "Get her!"
The three remaining goons charged the gothic teen. Said goth smirked as the lead man got closer, pulling herself up with one arm and kicking the lead man in the jaw, launching him into the air where she proceeded to use the haft of her Mechashift scythe as a dance pole, and swung into a kick – causing the lead man to fly int a nearby wall.
The goth, using her momentum, flipped into the air and landed with her massive scythe posed at her side to strike as the second man charged her.
Only for said man to never make it with six feet of her, as he was launched back by – guessing from the lack of blood and bits of bone – some less-than-lethal 12-gauge rounds.
The fighting – if one were charitable – came to a screeching halt at the thunderous entrance of the newcomer, a teen knight.
The tall, broad-shouldered teen stood a few inches taller than Torchwick, with a fair complexion and shaggy straw-blonde hair that frames a boyish, diamond-shaped face – which bears a chiseled nose, bow-like lips that curl upwards at the corners and a dusting of freckles covering his nose and cheekbones, with almond/hunter shaped cerulean eyes.
He was dressed in a pair of gray pants bloused into a pair of brown leather, shin-high boots - which were covered by a pair of darker brown leather half-chaps - with a blue three-quartered sleeve hoodie with black sides and fingerless, brown leather gloves over white hands wraps that ended at his silver metal elbow-guards. Over this he wore a heavy, silver cuirass, with two brown leather belts around his waist in an X fashion, each holding an autoloading pistol, alongside a pair of silver metal knee-guards, a singular pauldron on his left shoulder.
Resting upon his back was a large greatsword – indicative of the steel blade and red leather wrapped handle sticking out from his left thigh and right shoulder respectively. And in his outstretched right hand was a bird's head gripped, mag fed double-barreled shotgun with a smoking barrel.
"This is getting out of hand…" Torchwick spat through grit teeth. "Now there are two of them!"
The final thug looks between Torchwick and the two teen vigilantes, until he charged the two teenagers – figuring it would be better for his long-term health over the alternative.
The knight met the thug halfway with a slide, blasting a beanbag round right into the man's chest, launching him into the air for the goth to land a flying kick – violently sending the man towards the shop, where he slides to a stop in front of Torchwicks feet.
"Worth every penny, truly you were." Torchwick snarked before looking up towards the two teenagers. "Well. As much as I'd love to continue this little brouhaha we have going on…" He raises his cane, causing the bottom to pop up and reveal a gunner sight. "I'm afraid it's past your curfew!"
Torchwick fires off a bright red flare towards the teens, causing the knight's eyes to widen as he discarded his shotgun and bolts towards the goth. Pulling her close, the knight stabs his sword into the ground in between the flare and them and pushes a button near the center of the crossguard – causing his sword to transform into a large, coffin shaped tower shield.
The shield tanked the blast, protecting the two teens from any serious harm. Which was a good thing, considering the massive smoke cloud that engulfed the pair.
Swinging his shield/sword with one hand, the knight dissipates the smoke enough to see Torchwick racing up a nearby ladder.
The goth looks to the cowering shopkeep. "Do you mind if we go after them?"
The shopkeep shook his head. "Nuh uh."
"Alright!" The goth hooks her arm around the taller knight's waist and the pair disappear in a scarlet nimbus.
In a flash, the pair are on the roof opposite Torchwick.
"Stop right there, criminal scum!" Ordered the goth in a clear imitation of a guard. "You're outnumbered with nowhere else to go!"
Torchwick laughed condescendingly. "See, that's where you're wrong, kiddo."
As if to back up his claim, a Bullhead – a dual, jet engine VTOL aircraft – emerged from the lower alley with a rope ladder deployed.
Climbing atop the ladder, Torchwick tosses one of the uncut Fire crystals towards the troublesome teens, firing at it with Melodic Cudgel once it landed near their feet – causing another massive smoke cloud to erupt.
Torchwick smirked and laughed, only for the smirk to fall off his face and for his laughter to die in his throat as the smoke clears.
For now standing in front of the two teen was an older, stern-faced woman.
The woman was tall – standing nearly eye-to-eye with the hare knight – and voluptuous, with pale skin and her platinum blonde hair tied back into a tight bun with a curl hanging down the right side of her heart-shaped face – which bore a delicate nose and terse lips stretched into a frown, with hawk-like bright green eyes behind black ovular glasses.
She wears a black, high-waisted pencil skirt with bronze button over dark stocking that fade to brown towards her black, knee-high bronzed heeled boots, with a white long-sleeved, wide keyhole neckline, pleated blouse with gauntlet cuffs that flare in pleats at the wrist tucked into her waistband. On her collar is a hanging teal pendant, with a matching pair of dangling teal earrings. Over this she wears a purple lined, black cape that is stylized to end in flames and arrows, with a row of diamond-shaped bronze beads on the back under a bonze emblem of a tiara.
The woman flicks her riding crop and chunks of debris begin to glow a vibrant purple hue, before shaping themselves into spears and launching towards the bullhead.
The teens decide to follow suit, with the goth twirling her scythe into a semi-auto shotgun and the knight stabbing his shield/sword into the ground before pulling his twin pistols, firing upon the bullhead in a hail of slugs, both 12 ga. and .45 fire respectively.
"Crap!" Cried Torchwick as he was tossed about the cabin, both from the sudden violent turbulence and dodging the hail of lead, before struggling to reach the cockpit. "We've got a Huntress!"
The pilot stands and heads for the open side door, causing Torchwick to scramble to enter the pilot's seat and gain control of the bullhead.
The pilot stands next to the open door, revealing a svelte woman with pale skin and ashen-black hair that falls to her left shoulder.
She wears a dark red, off-the-shoulder, long-sleeved V-neck mini dress that ends in an upside-down triangular tail in the back that end just above her knees, with yellow designs along her arms and collarbone. She also wears a blue feather-like accessory on her right hip at the top of an open portion of her dress, alongside a black ankle bracelet with matching diamond-shaped glass beads on her right ankle above her black heels.
The woman's hands lit up, alongside the yellow designs of her dress, as flaming glyphs appear along the roof top. Seeing this, the Huntress flings the teens away before combat rolling herself, just in time to avoid the resulting explosion.
The three heroes rise only to see the retreating form of the bullhead flying off into the distance.
A sullen silence falls upon the three as they holster their respective weapons, only to be broken by the goth.
"Oh. My. Oum!" She squealed. "You're a Huntress! A real live Huntress!" She zooms over to the Huntress with stars in her eyes. "Can I have your autograph?!"
-{O}-
For their efforts, the pair of teens found themselves sitting in separate interrogation rooms of the local precinct.
While the blonde knight found himself sat alone with his thoughts and boredom, the goth was being given the ass chewing of a life time.
"First you destroy a nightclub, now you're fighting criminals in the street!" The Huntress raged. "You haven't even begun your career as a Huntress and you already have two strikes on your license, two! I sincerely hope you know the severity of that!"
"Hey, the started it!" Defended the goth. "Both times, might I add!"
"While your actions tonight are admirable, and tonight only, the laws exist for a reason." Stressed the Huntress. "Both for your safety and the civilians of not only Vale but the entirety of Remnant!" She pinches the bridge of her nose and takes a breath. "What do you think would happen if every Huntsman and Huntress acted with as little regard for the law as you have, hmm?"
"Nothin' good…" Mumbled the goth.
"Precisely." The Huntress nodded. "Now, if it were up to me, I'd send you on your way with a pat on the back…" The goth looks up hopefully. "And a slap on the wrist!" The Huntress emphasizes her point by slapping her riding crop onto the table, causing the goth to jump back with an "Eek!"
"But there is someone who would like to see you." The Huntress stepped aside to reveal a man walking through the door with a plate of cookies in one hand, and a cup of coffee in the other – with a cane tucked under his arm.
The trim man stands eye to eye with the Huntress, with a fair complexion and gray, tousled hair framing his angular face – which bears a hawkish nose and thin lips that curl upwards into a slight smirk, with a pair of brown, slanted eyes behind a pair of crooked silver spectacles.
He wears an opened, black coat over a dark green buttoned vest and a green, loose necked turtleneck – which has a silver crucifix with a purple amethyst embedded into the center pined in its shawl-like fabric – over a pair of matching black slacks that lead to a pair of dark brown leather dress shoes.
"Ruby Xiao Long." The man began, before leaning over the table and staring at her. "You… have silver eyes…"
"Uh…" Replied Ruby as warning signals went off in her head.
"So!" Exclaimed the man, suddenly pulling back. "Where did you learn to do all this?"
He gestured with his head towards the tablet that was currently playing Ruby's and the Knight's fight.
"Signal…" Replied Ruby as she eyed the man wearily and pulled her cloak over her modest bust.
"They taught you to use one of the most dangerous weapons ever designed?" Retorted the man.
"Well, one teacher in particular…"
"I see…" Replied the man as he set the cookies upon the table in front of Ruby, only for Ruby to give him a look that says, "Are you fucking kidding me?"
The man cleared his throat before speaking once more. "I-It's just that I've only seen one other scythe wielder of that skill before." He chuckles. "A dusty, old finch…"
"That's my aunt." Ruby replied tersely. "She's a teacher at Signal, took me under her wing and taught me everything I know."
"So I've noticed." The man placed his mug upon the table and sat down opposite Ruby. "And what is a… fine, young woman such as yourself doing at a school designed to train warriors?"
Ruby gives the man a good, hard look before answering. "I want to be a Huntress."
"You want to slay monsters?"
"I do, that's why I applied to Beacon." Answered Ruby. "My parents and aunt were Hunters, and they always taught me to help those who couldn't help themselves, so I figured why not become a Huntress? Travel the globe, have amazing adventures, and save a whole 'bunch of people in the prosses." She shrugged. "Win, win, if ya' ask me."
The two adults study Ruby, before the man speaks. "Do you know who I am?"
"You're Professor Ozpin, the Headmaster at Beacon."
"Hello." Ozpin smiled.
"Pleasure." Ruby replied in a tone that said it was anything but.
"You want to come to my school?"
"More than anything."
Ozpin exchanging glances with the Huntress, to which the Huntress shows her displeasure with a "Hmmph.", before looking back to Ruby. "Well, okay."
With that, the two adults leave the room and enter the second interrogation room – where the blonde knight sits patiently at the table.
"Mr." The Huntress begins to greet, before looking to her tablet, then back up at the teen with a shocked expression. "T-Terribly sorry for the inconvenience, Your Highness."
"There is no need to apologize, you were simply doing your job." Jaune sighed heavily. "I do not deserve special treatment because of the situation of my birth."
"But you must admit out surprise when we saw the heir to the Valean throne sat in an interrogation room." Ozpin chuckled. "Even more so when I saw your application to Beacon."
"I'm sure." Agreed Jaune.
"So, Your Highness." Ozpin began. "What made you want to attend Beacon; surly his Majesty could have hired the best tutors in Remnant to train you."
"Oui." Replied Jaune. "But I wish to experience something close to what normal kids have, homework, girl problems… freedom."
"But you could get those anywhere." Ozpin countered. "Why chose Beacon, why chose to spend however many years fighting monsters?"
"Because I want to do something worthy of a ruler." Answered Jaune. "My Great-Great-Grandfather, ended the Great War and founded the Huntsmen Academies, his son put an end to the threat of bandits in Eastern Sanus and established the roads we still use today, his son ended the Mantle Revolt before it could even begin, and my father won the Faunus Revolution and guaranteed the Faunus independence." He sighed. "And seeing as we are in a time of peace, helping to put a stop to the Grimm menace is more than worthy enough."
Once more, Ozpin shared a look with the Huntress, only this time she looked far more accepting of the matter, before looking back at Jaune. "Then I expect to see you in two weeks' time."
With Headmaster Ozpin satisfied, the two teens were released from custody and reunited at the watch sergeant's desk. Waiting for their weapons to be gathered and released back to them.
"Howdy, I'm Ruby, Ruby Xiao Long, nice ta' meet 'cha!" Ruby said as she turned to Jaune and stuck out her hand. "And, uh, hey… did the Headmaster say or do or come off as creepy to you?"
"Jaune, pleasure." He introduced himself. "And no, he didn't say or do anything creepy, why did he do anything to you?"
"A little, yeah." Replied Ruby. "The first thing he did was lean over the table and… complement my eyes, I think? Then he tried to offer me cookies…"
"Hmm, that is weird…" Jaune mused. "Strange, he did nothing of the sort with me, well, maybe he did…"
"Oh?" Ruby cocked a brow.
"There was this look in his eye…" Answered Jaune. "But I couldn't make it out…"
"I don't know, maybe he's just a strange one." Ruby shrugged. "After all, that Huntress wouldn't've looked so comfortable with 'em if he was a creep."
"Fair enough." Jaune shrugged, before a look of sudden clarity crossed his face. "Merde!"
"What's the matter, Darlin'?" Ruby asked, concerned.
"Well…" Jaune started, scratching the back of his head in an adorable, embarrassed fashion, thinking. "My father'll kill me if he learns about tonight, but I can't tell her that, she doesn't seem to know or care about my statues…"
Instead he said. "The, uh, place I'm staying at, or I was, ended my stay today and I wasn't able to renew it…"
Ruby suddenly had a brain blast, before she offered. "Well why don't ya stay with me?"
"Oh, I really couldn't-" Jaune started.
"Nonsense." Scoffed Ruby. "C'mon, you helped me out tonight, and I've got a way to repay you, so I'm gonna."
Jaune, having grown up with seven sister, knew better than to argue with a woman who's mind is made up. "Well… thank you for your generosity."
"Don't mention it, Darlin'" Ruby purred, causing Jaune's cheeks to grow red – having finally registered what she was saying.
The pair picked up their weapons before Ruby lead them out to the impound.
Ruby walked up to the booth. "Reever Nazaré 143, cherry red, license plate reads 626 – 113."
The officer nods and shortly after a cherry red motorcycle is brought out. It looks like a sportier version of a classic cruiser, all curves and performance.
"Nice!" Jaune nods in appreciation.
"Yeah, she's a beaut'." Ruby smiled. "Now c'mon, let's go!"
Without further ado, Ruby hopped onto to her bike – inadvertently, or perhaps not, showing Jaune she was a thongs kind of girl. Sighing, Jaune hoped backseat bitch, only to hold on for dear life as Ruby took off like a bat outta hell – barely avoiding breaking the speed limit, at least in view of the police – causing Jaune to grasp onto Ruby like his life depended on it. Something Ruby didn't mind one bit, hell, she'd like it a whole lot better in a more private setting with a lot less clothes.
Within an hour, the pair were out of Vale and on the small island of Patch, walking up to a large, two-story log cabin. Where a not too pleased looking man waited for them by the front door.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a tanned complexion and a short, wild, light-blonde bowl-like cut that framed his diamond-shaped face – which bore a straight nose and bow-like lips stretched into a frown, with almond/hunter shaped cerulean blue eyes – with two cowlicks sticking up from the top of his head, much like Ruby did.
He was dressed in a pair of rolled up, khaki cargo pants with dark brown dad shoes and a tan short-sleeved button up with an orange collar and trim on the bottom, that was covered by a short, dark brown vest.
"Ruby Xiao Long!" Spoke the man in a disappointed tone. "You have some explaining to do!"
"Oh, shit!" Ruby cursed. "The cops snitched to my dad!"
"That is… bad, yes?" Asked Jaune.
"Yes, that's bad!" Ruby whisper yelled. "Alright, hang back a bit while I do my thing, and hopefully he won't be too pissed I offered to let you stay here."
"Wait, did you not tell your father about this?!"
"Darlin', it'll be fine." Ruby soothed. "Just, let me do my thang."
With not much else to do, Jaune stayed back and let Ruby do her "thang". And after a few minutes of tense conversation, Ruby signaled for Jaune to come over.
Jaune walked towards the pair in what he hoped wasn't a too obviously nervous gait, hoping Ruby's father held the same amount of ignorance as his daughter did for his statues.
But one look at his surprised face dismayed such notions.
Before her father could open his mouth to voice his shock – or reverence, which ever – Jaune hurriedly stepped forward and introduced himself.
"Bonsoir." Jaune smiled overtly. "My name is Jaune, your daughter was very gracious in offering me a place to stay tonight, I hope I'm not intruding."
"N-Not at all, yo-" Jaune subtly shook his head no. "J-Jaune, we'd be happy to have you for tonight."
"Or until Beacon!" Ruby added.
"O-Or until Beacon!" Her father agreed.
"How about we just stick for tonight." Jaune chuckled. "After all, I might be a horrible houseguest."
"Nah!" Ruby laughed. "C'mon! Let me give you a tour!"
Ruby grabbed Jaune's hand and practically dragged him into the house, before hollering over her shoulder. "Dad! Did ja' make anything sweet?!"
"Those chocolate and strawberry chunk cookies you like…!" Replied her father after a moment of shock.
"You're the best dad ever!" Ruby squealed in joy after hearing that. "C'mon, Darlin', you've just got to try these cookies! They'll be the best thing you'll ever have; I promise."
Ruby's father looked on in utter confusion as his only daughter lead the crown prince of Vale around his cabin. "Only your daughter, Tai, only your daughter."
Tai stumbled into his home, his anger at his daughter completely forgotten, as he hoped he wouldn't offend the prince enough to lose his head.
I must have written and rewritten this chapter close to twenty times, anyway, as you can see, I've made some changes.
First off, Roman is now Jackson – alongside being a combination of the Mad Hatter and Stingy Jack, the origin for Jack o' Lanterns. Secondly, Ruby and Yang have been combined – Ruby always seemed to lack a definitive reason to be a Huntress, and Yang hasn't really contributed to the overall story to terribly much. Thirdly, Jaune's family is now more involved in the story, it was hinted at that he had an important family, but it was never really shown.
I've also added some accents, Torchwick's being Irish, Ruby's being a Southern drawl – think Rogue from X-Men: Evolution – and Jaune has a French accent. It always bugged me that most of Remnant all had an American accent.
And if you're wondering why I'm writing the changes here when they were pretty obvious. One, because there will be some changes in the future that will be more subtle. And two, because at some point someone's going to mention it either in a review or in a PM, so I'm just nipping it in the bud now.
Also, I based Ruby's bike off of an ARCH Method 143.
Thank you all for reading, and I hoped you all enjoyed it.