Fire. Chaos. Grimm.
That was all that remained of the City of Vale, after - well - everything. This hadn't been what Roman Torchwick had wanted. He wanted to be left in peace - or as much peace as a soon-to-be world renowned thief could be - to live it up and bask in the infamy that came with his title.
Instead, he was faced with nothing but death, destruction, and ruin.
"Fuck me." The master thief muttered to himself, pulling a cigar seemingly from nowhere. It was his Semblance, in actuality. Fat lotta good it did him, being able to stash and hide objects in "stasis" so long as they were able to be held in one hand. He'd used it to cheat at cards, swipe things directly under people's noses, and even a little smuggling.
Nowadays though? He used it almost entirely for his smoking habit.
He sighed, sat on a mostly intact rooftop, his normally immaculate and clean white jacket torn, singed, and stained with goo that he didn't want to know the origin of. His crisp, perfectly combed hair looked as though he'd just woken up after being eaten by a Griffon - he had done just that - and to top it all off? His bowler hat was gone.
Roman scrabbled in his jacket pocket for his lighter. A lighter that wasn't there. The master thief groaned and put his face in his hands. "Of course. Of course! Nothing's gonna go my way, is it?" He cried out to a burning city.
In the distance, he could still see signs of fighting. Or, barring that, he could hear it. Huntsmen and Huntresses doing their best to salvage an unwinnable situation… It wasn't a job he envied.
His gaze was drawn up towards the normally shining beacon that was, well, Beacon Academy. That glorious reminder to the denizens of the city that they were safe. That the best and brightest were watching over them.
"Fat lotta good that did them." He muttered, pocketing his cigar once more as he got up, dusting himself off. Behind him, the remains of the Griffon that had tried to eat him were long since faded, leaving naught behind but the scattered debris from their fighting.
In actuality, he did owe the mindless beast some modicum of thanks, he supposed. After all, Little Red had him beat by rights. He had always been a good combatant, but in a straight up even fight? He'd lose more often than not. Doubly so when his opponent was a Huntress - even one just in training. A Griffon, though? That was well within his capability, even if the whole being eaten by it was… Less than ideal.
Roman grabbed Melodic Cudgel and spun it in hand, thankful that it had at least made it all the way through with him. "Alright, Roman… Time to get outta here." He muttered, picking his way quickly down a nearby fire escape and into the alley of whatever building he'd landed on.
His reprieve, it would turn out, was short lived.
A pack of Beowolves were prowling down the street, sniffing, hunting. And he had the sinking suspicion he was their prey.
"When in Vacuo…" He muttered under his breath as he took the fight to the mindless beasts. Leaping into action, he came down hard on the lead Beowolf's head, crushing it under the weight of Melodic Cudgel with one solid swing. Not bothering to sit and look at his handiwork, he pivoted just in time to catch one of the Beowolves claws on his cane, grunting as it forced him back a good few feet.
Using that momentum, he leapt backwards, putting some space between himself and his foes, pulling Melodic Cudgel up to take aim at the creature, firing off an explosive blast from his cane-rifle.
The Beowolf was caught and sent flying back, crumbling into nothingness before it even hit the pavement. The last remaining two charged the master thief who was already breathing rather hard. This shouldn't have winded him. But these aren't normal circumstances - the whole getting eaten by a Griffon thing - all things considered, he's doing well enough.
Roman leapt up, aiming to disengage farther from the oncoming Beowolves. While successful, he felt his stomach leap up into his throat as a roar came behind him. He barely had a moment's notice to twist in the air to see the Ursa Major bearing down on him. He was a second or two too late to bring his weapon up to block its attack.
The Grimm's claws tore through his aura and sent him flying over the Beowolves heads, crashing down into the street behind them with a thud. He did an impressive imitation of a ragdoll.
Roman groaned as he forced himself up to his feet, aiming down Melodic Cudgel's sights once again. Unfortunately, he only had one more blast in the weapon, and he just knew he didn't have any spare ammunition in his coat.
Consider it bad luck.
His eyes snapped to a nearby car, dented and damaged, yes, but still intact. Without missing a beat he turned his weapon onto the car and shot it, sending the whole street up in a blast of fire and lightning Dust.
Roman didn't wait to see if he'd stopped his attackers, he turned and booked it. The best answer to a fight you're not guaranteed to win is to run and run fast. He'd gotten good at both solutions, over the years.
The roar behind him told him that no, he hadn't dealt with the Major… Though he could only pray to whatever gods may or may not be listening that he had killed the Beowolves in the process.
Skidding as he took a sharp right turn, he found himself face-to-face with yet more Grimm. "Oh for the love of…" He turned back and ran in the opposite direction. He had to put obstacles between himself and the creatures of darkness, otherwise they'd just run him down sooner or later.
Seeing an easy opportunity, Roman brought his arms up and crashed through a storefront window. Looked like a boutique of some sort. A shame, he thought. They had nice stock. He didn't stop to admire it though, and kept on booking it, vaulting over the counter and dashing into the back room. He paused the half second it took to slam the door shut behind him and keep running.
And then came another problem.
The back door in this shop. The door that should have led him out into an alleyway and then back into the streets?
It was gone. Replaced by a pile of rubble.
"No. Nonononono." He muttered to himself, frantic as he searched for another way out. Behind him, he could hear as the Grimm came crashing through the boutique. He likely had mere moments before they were on him.
He scanned the room in a rush, hoping for something - anything - that might help him out of this situation, or at least buy him time. There was nothing.
Behind him, the door CRASHED open.
Roman turned on a heel, Melodic Cudgel in hand. "Roman Torchwick, master thief, found dead in the rubble of Vale. Hah." He spat on the ground, not taking his eyes off the Ursa Major.
The creature began to charge him.
"Who'd have thought?"
He charged back.
Fire. Chaos. Grimm.
That was all Qrow Branwen could see, even from on high as he was. Things had gone from bad to worse, all in very short order. First, Irondick's robots, then the Grimm dragon - to make matters worse it just spat little Grimm all around it as it flew - and to ice the whole shitty cake? The White Fang.
The maiden was dead. Ozpin was dead. Jimmy's troops were pulling out, and the city was actively burning to the ground… But at the very least his nieces were safe.
He'd gotten there too late to intervene against Cinder either in the basement or on the tower, but when he had gotten there, who else did he find other than Raven. This was their 'one', as she'd put it.
Fuckin' bitch.
But she'd come through when they needed her. Yang and Ruby both were safe.
Now, after rallying with the faculty of Beacon, Qrow had been sent out to hunt down and rescue any Huntsmen he could. They needed to save the Civvies, he'd thought, but Goodwitch was adamant. Saving them wouldn't do anyone any favors if they didn't have the force to defend and evacuate them. Doubly so with Irondick's troops making a swift retreat.
So here he was, circling the city, thankful that the Griffons and Nevermore were either too dumb or too distracted to notice the lone crow in the skies with them. Unfortunately for him, any signs of resistance were dying out sooner than not.
His attention, though, was drawn to an explosion a block or so away. Without missing a beat, he took wing to chase after it. If he could save even one Hunter - well - he wouldn't be happy, but it would be a benefit to them all.
By the time he'd arrived near the explosion and the smoke, there was no sign of whoever had done it - body or otherwise - other than an Ursa Major lumbering in chase of something. He didn't hesitate to follow along, getting ahead of the hulking Grimm to try and reinforce whoever it was chasing.
Down below, he saw a rather disheveled man with bright orange hair and a suit that might have once been white dash away from a pack of several Boarbatusks and Beowolves. He heard the crash and shatter of glass as whoever it was fled.
What the fleeing combatant didn't know was that before then, the pack hadn't seen or noticed him.
Qrow, for one, blamed it on his Semblance.
He didn't hesitate, though, to dive down and shift midway through back into his human form, blade drawn as he cut through a Boarbatusk on the landing. The Grimm were briefly stunned as they reoriented to face him, but Qrow only sighed.
He leapt into action, faster than a bullet it seemed like, and cut through two Beowolves in one swift motion, kicking a charging Boarbatusk off and away, diverting the Grimm to charge headfirst into a brick wall. Another one, though, took advantage of the fact he was only one man and landed a solid blow to his back, though Qrow's Aura flared to block the blow, it was enough to briefly knock the wind out of the Huntsman.
He didn't let that slow him, though as he turned, shifting his sword down to reveal the double-barreled shotgun hidden within, blasting the beast right in its armored snout. While not normally effective, the power of point blank dust munitions was one helluva drug. He snapped to look as the Boarbatusk he'd diverted earlier came rushing forward again, looking to try and gore him in whatever way the Grimm could.
Qrow didn't hesitate to vault up and over the creature, landing behind it with a dull thud as his blade clicked back up into place. Up ahead, he heard a loud crash as the Ursa Major tore through that little shop.
"Sorry, kiddies. Playtime's over." Qrow quipped to nobody other than himself, really, and charged forward with speed he couldn't naturally possess. The Grimm were cut through, though he didn't stop to admire his handiwork as he dashed through the street and into the little boutique that the Ursa Major had broken into.
Whatever the Grimm saw, it wanted it dead, and charged forward.
"Who'd have thought?" A vaguely familiar voice muttered.
Qrow didn't hesitate as he leapt forward, his sword now shifting into a scythe as he cut a large swathe in the Ursa Major's back.
Roman, meanwhile, had feinted his charge and dove off to the side at the last minute, bashing the Ursa Major over the back of the head with his cane. The creature howled with pain, and the Master Thief knew instinctively it wasn't him. Couldn't be - he's on fumes at best.
Roman's gaze met Qrow's.
There was a brief moment of recognition in both men's eyes.
Roman had a moment of sheer panic.
Qrow's eyes only narrowed as he disengaged from the thrashing Ursa.
"So, uh-" Roman started.
The Ursa Major roared yet again and turned to face them, swiping for the Thief who nimbly dodged back.
"Grimm first." Qrow muttered, keeping one eye on both his foes, now. Just his luck.
Fuckin' Semblance.
Roman at least nodded as he shifted all his attention back to the Ursa and fell into a ready stance.
The Grimm charged again, not caring which of the duo it got ahold of, only aiming to maim and kill, really. It crashed through where Qrow was, though the Huntsman dodged off to the right. Without missing a beat, and seeing an opportunity, Roman hooked the curved end of his cane around the Ursa's back right leg and YANKED.
This made the Grimm stumble, giving Qrow the perfect opportunity to bring his scythe around to behead the Grimm in one quick go.
In stark contrast to the Huntsman, Roman was breathing heavily, doubled over, and using his cane as a cane. Though his eyes were alert, focused on Qrow. And, the Huntsman noted, searching for a way out. One Qrow wasn't dumb enough to give him.
"Right. So. Thanks for the save. I'll, uh, be going now. You know, places to be, things to do, lives to live." Roman tried, sounding all too nervous as he edged towards the door.
Qrow shifted his scythe down into its sword form and pointed it at Roman. "Not so fast, Torchwick. This is your doing."
"Woah, hey now. I may be a wanted criminal, but this? I didn't want this!" He shouted out.
"You were integral to this whole plan. You worked with the Fang, supplied them Dust for the Breach, and armed them. I'll bet you whipped them into a frenzy to attack Beacon as well." Qrow accused, stepping forward, forcing the thief to back up until his back hit a wall.
"Listen, listen! I only did what I had to do to survive. I'm sure you know about Cinder by now. This was all her doing! Her and her little cronies. They planned and orchestrated it all, I'm just the middle man here."
"Even if I were to believe you, you're still responsible for all of this in some way or another." Qrow frowned. "You even broke yourself out of Jimmy's flying fortress."
Roman couldn't help but to grin. "I am a master thief, after all. Comes with a few skills to help get outta a sticky situation or three." He boasted, almost forgetting for a moment where he was - at the end of a sword, with almost no Aura left in the tank. He blinked. "But, BUT, that's not the point." He considered for a moment if he could get a cheap shot in on the Huntsman and bolt before the man recovered. "The point is I'm a victim of this, too! I was forced under threat of death to help."
Qrow narrowed his eyes, but Roman kept going. "Plus, I mean really. I'm a thief. Do I benefit at all from the city burning? I benefit when things are good, when there's Lien to be had, not when its all a big burning pile of Grimm infested rubble!"
The Huntsman couldn't fault Roman's logic. Not really. Though that didn't absolve him of his crimes. Far from it. "Then you're under arrest, Torchwick." He paused a beat. "You're coming with me. Glynda and the Council will sort out what to do with you."
Roman blinked. That worked? That really, actually genuinely worked? Damn. "You're uh, not gonna cuff me, or…?"
"No. Not when you need to be able to defend yourself as we pick our way through the city. I have enough on my plate fighting the Grimm, babysitting you in cuffs is another distraction I don't need."
"... Alright then." Roman thought today was his lucky day. Seriously. All he had to do was play along until Grimm showed up, and then leave the dusty old man to fight them alone and slip into the chaos and disappear again. Easy as.
Qrow frowned at Roman. "Try anything funny and next time I catch you, there won't be any second chances."
"Lead on, oh great and powerful captor-slash-protector, Huntsman, sir." Roman offered in about the most sarcastic way he could manage.
"Brothers help me." Qrow muttered as the two made their way out into the ruined streets of Vale once again.
Howdy folks
This is To Reform a Thief. In my head, this will eventually become a buddy-cop fic following Roman and Qrow on their [mis]-adventures in the world of Remnant, and maybe sorta, kinda, help save the world with Team RWBY and co in the process? Who knows. I haven't planned that far ahead.
My TENTATIVE goal is to publish once every two weeks. If I manage more, awesome. If not, its not a hard deadline that I'm set in stone on.
See ya' later, space cowboy.