I don't own RWBY or Call of Cthulhu
Hong Kong of the coast of China along the ports, March 02 1925
3rd POV
The scene opens up on a shipyard in Hongkong. In a small fishing boat. The scene was peaceful when the sound of argument breaks through. Onboard a young half Chinese boy was shouting at his father. Arguing over something that seemed trivial but spun out of control.
"Gāisǐ de Biming, nǐ zài xiǎng shénme!" (God damn it Biming, what were you thinking!) Olof voice can be heard shouting from inside.
"Wǒ xiǎng hǎo ba, ào luò fū. Wǒmen shì rúhé měitiān dū zài dǎlāo cángēngshèngfàn de! Wǒmen yīnggāi rúhé shòudào gōngpíng duìdài, dàn wǒ yīnggāi jūgōng, bìng zài tāmen zài wǒ miànqián fàngpì shí gǎndào gāoxìng! Zhēng dà nǐ de yǎnjīng lǎorén tāmen shì zìsī de zīchǎn jiējí!" (I was thinking alright, Olof. How we break our backs every day fishing for scraps! How we are suppose to be treated fair but instead I'm suppose to bow, and rejoice when they fart in my presence! Open your eyes old man they are selfish bourgeoisie!) Another voice shouts back.
"Suǒyǐ tāmen shì zìsī de gěi nǐ shāohuǐ yīzuò sìmiào de quánlì!" (So they are selfish gives you the right to burn down a temple!) Olof snapped back.
"Wǒmen méiyǒu shāo diào rènhé dōngxī! Wǒmen suǒ zuò de zhǐshì qīngwéi de túyā." (We didn't burn down anything! All we did was minor graffiti.) The other voice shouted back.
"Érzi, zhěng zuò sìmiào dōu bùguò shì huījìn. Huǒ cóng nǐ tiē de yī zhāng hǎibào shàng mànyán kāi lái." (Son, the entire temple is nothing more then ashes. The fire spread from one of those posters you planted.) Olof Retorts back.
"Nà bùshì wǒmen de cuò! Wǒmen yě quèbǎo ràng tāmen yuǎnlí huǒ yuán! Shì nàgè héshàng, tā diǎnránle huǒ!" (That wasn't our fault! We made sure too keep them away from the fire! It was that monk, he started the fire!) The other voice shouted.
"Nà bùshì wǒ yào qù de fǎtíng…" (That's not what the court I going to…) Before Olof could finish a loud slam followed by tipping and crash of bottles.
"Fǎyuàn bùguǎn! Tāmen zài zīchǎn jiējí de kǒudài lǐ rúcǐ zhī shēn, yǐ zhìyú tāmen bǎ wǒ rēng jìn láofáng, shènzhì lián shuōhuà dōu méiyǒu!" (The Court won't care! They are so deep in the bourgeoisie pocket that they throw me in a jail cell for even speaking!) The other voice shouts before a few moments of silence. Then the door to the cabin broke open and out stepped a young man of Asian and European decent. His red hair was a mess, and his clothes were that of a decaying fur line jacket over a Tangzhuang.
He adjusts a paperboy hat over his head before walking away. As he does Olof follows after. He was wearing nothing more then a simple dirty white tank top with a pair of brown trousers with the cotton suspenders hanging at his side. He looked tired, for things have not been great for Olof, not for a long time. The British fishing industry in Hong Kong had nearly pushed him out off the market, his son Cheng had left for the new world to help alleviate rent and find his own path. His other son, Biming, whom he had a shouting match with, was bailed out of prison for burning down a temple. Court trial is next week and with that attitude and his son's political stance he's sure the judge is going to throw the book at him. Olof could do nothing as his son walks off into the distance. His eyes were weary from the days hard work, and his mind was elsewhere from hours of listening to his late wife's family lawyer prattle on about his son's chances.
"(Sigh)… Vid Guds Skägg han är envis som sin mormor." ((Sigh)By God's Beard he is stubborn as his grandmother.) Olof mutters to himself in his native tongue as he watches his son march off into the night.
He returns back inside the boat and went straight to his desk. With the big fishing important strangling local business, he was forced to file multiple papers as well as pay add taxes to fishing in new spots. He works for an hour when he heard something, coming from down in the bowls of the ship. Removing his glasses, he turns around before calling out, "Bì míng, nǐ huíláile ma érzi?" (Biming, are you back, son?)
Strangely he got no answer. Figuring his son didn't want to talk and he went back to work, when another loud crash can be heard, followed by a muffled voice. This caught Olof's attention. "Vad i helvete?" (What the Hell?)
He then slowly makes his way down to where the noise can be heard. In the bowl of the ship, he hears the sound of silent mutters, "Where is it?" "Y' kadishtu, Y' kadishtu I left it here." "Yes, h''s geb. I know because this is the Norrsken. The only north hupa shuggoth in… his… city. So I'll be quick." "No, he tried, we saved her… I… we both want to, but if we do this now. I can never forgive myself."
As those words echoed through the halls of Norrsken underbelly, Olof realized that a vagabond had made it on board. Maybe an Englishman who spent too much time in an Opium Den. Though it wasn't any engelsman accent he'd ever heard. Looking around he noticed a nearby priest bat. Taking it, he slowly walks in to find a young boy. Early twenties if he had to guess. He all he was wearing was a raggedy straight jacket, covered in mud and filth. Bare foot had traces of blood with the mud and waste. His hair was oily and shrivel yet long. As he was muttering crazily, he then stops as he locates something. A green magazine, covered in dust and brine. He holds the object tightly as he continues to look for whatever he was. As he continues to look around, he suddenly stopped when Olof got ready to take a swing.
The stranger dodges Olofs swings as he crashes down. He then swings at the intruder wildly, always just missing him by a few inches. Eventually Olof remarks in anger! "Líkāi zhèlǐ, nǐ bùshì hǎo tōudù zhě!" (Get out of here, you no good stowaway!)
"Wait, hold on!" The young man said in English.
"Oh, sorry didn't know you speak English… GET OFF MY BOAT!" Olof shouted as he nearly smacked the kid upside the head. The kid kept on dodging the strikes till he finally tripped over a bucket. Looking up Olof was about to smash the wooden club against his head when the boy shouted out.
"Wait, Cheng sent me! He's in danger!" The kid shouted before pulling out a small red not with a jade rock tied to it. Olof eyes widen, it was a good luck charm he bought for his son when he left. How this stranger got it, it angered him.
"How did you get this!" Olof asked as he snatches the charm.
"He gave it to me. Told me to find you." The boy said as he pulls himself up. Upon doing that, Olof got a good look at the boy. He recognized him, as the kid from that god damn island. He still had nightmares about what he saw beneath the water, but this kid. He looked like a nightmare made flesh. Shaggy hair, uneven and filthy mustache, and a malnourished body. "You, Lie. Vid Guds skägg What happened to yah?"
"Ren, and a lot." The stranger known as Ren said as he stands up only for a loud growling noise to come from his stomach. "But if you're not going to try and beat me with that stick I can talk more about what happen since that night as well as what happened to your son."
Olof thought about it for a few moments. He can see that the boy was starving, and he wants to know more. But he smelled like shit, looked like an opium fiend, and his only clothes was a torn straight jacket. Far as he knows he was a crazed drug feen who is wanted. As he contemplates his choices the view pulls in on Olof's eye as he contemplates what to do.
10 minutes later
The scene pulls out revealing Olof upstairs. He was drinking tea from a mug as he watches the mysterious young man ravenously eat. He was sitting at the table, scarfing down a bowl of Soba with some oversized sweater and rubber fishing pants on. He still smells like he'd crawled through a sewer but at least he didn't look like it. After a few moments of watching him scarf down the hot meal, this Ren character finally stopped and turned to Olof with a sorrow glance.
"(Sigh)… what I will tell you next will sound crazy… I'm not convinced you'll believe me anyways." Ren said as he looks down at his hand.
"Kid, my son… not the one 'missing', is due to be tried for his politics. I'm sure what ever happened to my son can't be worst then what my other one is going to be subjected too." Olof said with a serious look.
"You'll be surprised what can be worst." Ren remarks under his breath. Olof caught that last part but held his tongue. Ren remained quiet for a few moments before finally speaking. "I'm not sure what happened after we landed in the water… pretty sure I should be thankful I don't recall it. But after I was comatose, I found myself in a strange place. It was… was like a dream. Yet despite this feeling I can recall everything as if it were real. The worst part wasn't the memories, but the feeling. Time moved so slow. Years… decades, centuries even went by and yet I never woke up."
Ren shudder for a moment as his pupils constricts and dilate rapidly. He then closes his eye before taking a breath before continuing. "I wandered that strange land, seeing things that I dared not see again. It was here that I've learn terrible truths about the world… possible the cosmos itself. All while tormented by a jailor whom wore many faces."
"Uh huh. So what does this, dream land has to do with my son?" Olof asked having a hard time believing what the kid was saying.
"I did." Ren simply replied as he looks down at his hands. "The land doesn't follow the rules of time. I met scholars from Athens, A crusader from the 14th century, ghouls from the Terror. Even a GI from wars yet to happen. Your son was one of them. He found a way into the Dream lands but is now trapped there."
"Uh huh… stuck in a dream." Olof remarks with a hint of sarcasm.
"I know how it sounds. But it's true." Ren said before Olof holds up his hand.
"Ren, I may be a firm believer in local legends and traditions. But even for me that sounds a bit far fetch." Olof said as he crosses his arms. He was about to escort Ren out when he said something.
"Méiyǒu yīcùn zhēnlǐ, méiyǒu shé me shì qiānqiǎng fùhuì de." Ren said causing Olof to go quiet. Ren then continued, "Isn't that what you said to your son before he left? 'Nothing is far-fetched without an inch of truth?' What I'm telling is completely insane but I'm telling the truth."
Olof remains quiet for a few moments before a knock came at his door. Putting the conversation on pause, Olof goes to the door where he finds a man in a dressed suit. "Wǒ kěyǐ bāng nǐ ma?" (May I help you?)
"I'm sorry but do you chance speak English?" The man said as he holds his hat sadly in hand.
"Ja. I do." Olof said as he crosses his arm. "What can I help you with?"
"Well… Mr. Larsson. I'm with the Miskatonic Archeological Society. I'm sorry to say. Your son. Cheng… he's… dead." The man said before he prattles on about how Olof's son was hired by the organization. However for Olof the world slowly went silent as he felt his heart sinking in absolute horror. The world went silent and distant. Till he heard something behind him. Turning around he can see ren. Eating away at the Soba with the jewel knot right beside him. He stares on at Ren as the scene slowly goes dark.
Weeks later, somewhere miles away from Chile.
The scene re opens in the middle of the ocean. The SS. Norrsken was slowly moving through a thick fog. On the bow was Ren. He has cleaned himself off since Hong Kong. Now wearing an olive-green sweater with a set of Waterproof rubber suspended pants that tucked over. He had shaved his mustache and beard and fixed his hair into a braided in like a modern-day queue. He still looked half-starved but at least he wasn't actually starving. He looked on over the ocean with a sense of dread. His mind filled with haunting memories of what was life in the dream scape. He knows what' beneath the waves, and what will come. As his mind races with unseen paranoid and thoughts of horror, he'd thought he saw a familiar figure in the water. His childhood friend… the one who kept him going. His beloved, Nora. She can be seen in the reflection of the sea, holding onto his shoulder. For a few moments this comfort the young boy before suddenly her figure altered into a horrible abomination of teeth, tendrils, and eyes. Ren in a fit of panic nearly screamed as he turned around to see Olof stepping out into the open.
"Whoa, are you alright Ren?" Olof asked noticing the terrified look on Ren's face. "You've seen ett spoke?"
"No, just bad Memories." Ren remarks as he turns back to the ocean.
He stared deeply into the fog with a fever look in his eye. Olof took notice to the kid's determination. He seemed nearly honor bound to getting his supposed dead son. He leaned against the rail beside Ren and looked on into the fog thinking back to what that man said. Seemed his son had quite an adventure. Rather than fishing in the new world, he was shoehorned by an Archeological group out in a small town on the other end of the Americas. He fairried them around the western side of the new world before disappearing up in the Northwest. So why in guds goda skägg was this kid bringing him down south? Well, despite the obvious of searching the last spot that he was the kid recommended that they follow his trails. Which would lead them to an island that isn't on any maps, yet he knows the Cordiant's by memory. -48.7989326946197, -104.48242187542488. They have traveled a long way, and most likely Olof will never fish in Hong Kong ever again because of this. Yet if there is a chance to find his son, he will do anything. Still, he isn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth; but he isn't sure if this gift horse will fall over. He was about to ask Ren if he was sure they were going to right way when Ren spoke up.
"We're here." Ren remarks as he points ahead. Olof looks on over at where Ren had pointed. Off in the distance, on the horizon a small Island emerges from the fog. A tropical landscaped. At the center of the island was a jagged mountain that formed a skull like shape. Olof looked on in shock and horror. The island gave a subtle aura of disbelief and hostility.
"Vid Guds skägg." Olof mutters under his breath as he stares on.
"Yeah… might want to get back on the wheel. This island isn't attached to anything and should something go wrong I'd rather not swim to Chili." Ren remarks as he turns away from the island.
Olof shook his head breaking his concentration of the island before give Ren a small nod. He walks back to ships wheelhouse. Ren takes one look at the large mountain, where for a faint moment he notices something large moving with the multiple caves above. He tries looking for it again but could see nothing. Chalking it up to his fragile mind seeing things, he turns around and head to the boat house. Unaware that something from far off in the caves did spot him. Something old, and very hungry.
The scene opens on the stage, where it has been heavily decorated to look like New Orleans Bourbon Street. Covered in many joker and jester mask and sprinkled with glitter, tassels, and assortment of vices ranging from Bottles of strong Liquor to girls with loose shirts and lots of beads. At the center of the crowed was Wombag holding a Bottle of Carabine Rum. He was covered in Purple, green, and gold Glitter as he dances around in a suit with a vest decorated with the French fleur-de-lis. As he does, He sing's drunkenly, "We don't talk about Lie Ren, no, no, no! We don't talk about Lie Ren... but It was my wed… Whoops there go my drink." He then spots his friends, all dressed in a mixture of French, Spanish, and Italian designs sprinkled with Gold, Purple and Green.
"Friends! Happy Mardi… Mardi… Mar (Hick) Mardi Grass!" Wombag said as he falls over, landing next to Crimson and Qwertymalcolm67. "You want to know what's my… (Hic) Vice? Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh, heh, heh… you'll be Hic Surprise."
"Is it whiskey?" Crimson asked rhetorically.
"Nope... it's Coke!" Wombag said before holding up a bottle of Coke… before snorting the liquid through his gas mask. As he snorts the entire two litter bottle of coke, Crimson rolled his eyes as he takes a sip from his Champaign glass.
"Well, knowing the time period I'm not actually surprised." Crimson said with a heavy sigh. Wombag could care less at Crimson's sass as his eye bulges through the lens giving a sparkle of ecstasy.
As his eye nearly pop, Qwerty gives a small chuckle as he throws a dart at the wall. Hitting the center dead on. A small group of girls cheer before a set Cajun twins hand him the grand prize. "Well…than…I got several dollar I'm the richest here I have about 80 dollars!" Said Qwerty waving the bills around. (As his eye nearly pop, Qwerty gives a small chuckle as he throw's a dart at the wall. Hitting the center dead on. A small group of girls cheer before a set Cajun twins hand him the grand prize. "Well then…I'm the richest here, I have about 80 dollars!" Said Qwerty waving the bills around.)
"Bwbwbwbwbrrrrwwb... well, I may have only five." Wombag then pauses to wipe away nose, "But I feel like a million fuck bucks! Fuck that, I feel Like I can fly on wealth!"
Wombag then begins giggling madly. "Oh god yes. Fuck Gravity I can fly!"
Wombag throws down his drink before climbing up on the bar before diving like a majestic drunk Seagle. As he does a hawk can be heard as his eye's sparkles... before landing between U.S Napalm and a Polish Waifu with a loud cracking noise being heard as Wombag moans in agony. "Weeee, I told you I can fly!"
"You're an idiot." Crimson said as he shakes his head in shame. "Combine, you mind taking over as I help this dumb ass?"
As Crimson and Qwery drags an inebriated Wombag away, Combine walks out dressed in a dark grey trench coat, blue pants and black boots. He took off his newspaper boy's hat, and bowed lightly.
"Hello all! Looks like I shall be your spokesperson for today, seeing as..." glances at the pair dragging Wombag outside singing about Champaign, "…he's out of commission."
Combine fishes a slip of paper out of his hat, and unfolds it. "At least he had the foresight to give this to me."
To Sir Carre's response: 1. No problem
2A. Huh… Maybe I should do that. Didn't think that far ahead.
2B. In this case, it was good that they have arrived. If not Blake may have disappeared only to return with a new tongue.
2C. Thanks, I've been looking to use that song.
2D. "Yeah, they now have something new to bound over. Loss, horror, and whiskey…" Combine pauses before he shakes his head, exasperated. "Of course."
2E. Yeah, funny how he is the only one besides Blake notice the entity. Why? Well I'll leave it to Gold Crown Dragon to tell or not.
2F. Heh, funny. Least I didn't use the bloated woman in this case. (Another form of the crawling Chaos.)
2G. Eh, this chapter I want to give an Indiana Jones feel. Old Adventure stories of dashing archaeologist in ancient forgotten temples.
3. Thanks, here's hoping this arc proves to be a fun break from inner city and country roads.
"Thanks for writing, Sir Carre. I'll remind him to thank you and the other reviewers when he's sober."
To Crimson's response: Yep. One more.
Thanks for writing, Crimson
From Sir. Black cross0: Eh. They are, but at least they save Blake's free will.
Oh trust me. This will fall upon my own phobias.
"Thanks for writing, Sir. Black cross0. I do wonder what phobias he'll use."
"From Sir. CharmanderUsedRazorLeaf… That is a cursed name, anyhow. Moving on."
Thanks, I put a lot of work into this story, and I hope it gets better as time passes by. Well, after Ren we will be introduced into crossover stories. Where we see the kids meeting up or characters from other stories meeting with others. The first seven are more or less solo adventures, to give a sense of their world and the following will make the world feel connected. For example, the next arc after this one, The Blackwater Creek Incident, will see Jaune and Yang finally meeting up but told through an unusual POV, like you predicted.
Thanks for writing, Sir. CharmanderUsedRazorLeaf
Once done, Combine folds the paper again before tossing it to the direction of a trash can, it misses and goes out the window instead. Someone starts screaming bloody murder about something in his eyes.
"I hope that wasn't a stranger I just hit." Combine mutters under his breath, before waving. "Now before I face the consequences of my actions, I will thank you all for reading Wombag's story and tolerating my abrupt presence."
"Conatus bonos ad astra abyssoque!" Soon everyone in the crowed raises there glasses and repeat the same phrase. As they do they all begin to fall to the ground, with foam coming from there lips. Only one standing were the two previously mention Cajun girls and a Confused Combine. Before he could even question what's going on, one of the girls pulls a stashed B.A.R from under the bar.
"Sweet tastes in weapons, but I hope you're not gonna shoot me with that." Combine said calmly as he raises his hands.
"Oh douce petite mouche, we wouldn't use this on such a pretty face." The girl said before shooting Combine in the knee. The other Cajun walks over with a pair of hand cuffs, finishing the line, "But we wouldn't want you running da way before we had our fun."
"Ugh, I'd rather stay a virgin, thank you. Also was the kneecapping really necessary?!" Combine said as he holds his leg in agony while fighting through the pain.
"Come now, we may have our fun with the poupée cassée, but you we must be quick with." the one with cuffs says as she cuffs his hands behind him. As she does, the other with the B.A.R walked over before grabbing Combine's shirt and tearing it open revealing his chest.
"But if you keep calm, I'm sure you'll find this, enjoyable." She seductively remarks as she flicks a switch blade open an inch away from Combine's face. The two then pushed Combine to the ground and begin kissing his face while carving a symbol into his chest as the scene pulls away. The scene moves turns to a skull on the bar, with it adorning top hat and smoking Cuban. The view pulls in on the eyes before a horrible purple eye flashes open between the screams.