Which characters should we bother expanding/rewriting?

  • Canon Only. Do your best with what you have, Shade-Sempai!

  • Canon and Randoms. The Old Man in the Dust Shop finally has a name!

  • Canon and Side-Characters. Ever wondered who the stickmen figures were?

  • Canon and Non-Canon. We all know that, in the end, Team RWBY can't do it alone.

  • Shade is Love. Shade is Life. Shade Loves you. Accept Shade in your Heart.


Results are only viewable after voting.
Prologue - Blake Belladonna
Prologue - Blake Belladonna

The weather was calm. The Grimm clouds of the night before had been cleared already, and while strays still prowled they were nothing that worried the White Fang's main camp. She had her arms crossed, her dark cat-ears flat against her hair and her gaze sideways.

"It's just a Dust robbery?" she asked.

"A big one," Adam said, "Nothing we haven't handled before."

"But there are huntsmen there," she said.

"Only a couple, and we know they flunked out of preparatory school. Glorified bodyguards, good enough for humans, not for us both-" Adam pointed out. "Is something else worrying you, Blake? You always read the briefings before missions like these."

"It's just-" Blake exhaled, "Robberies, protests, sabotage-all of those I understand, but only if-"

"If there's no loss of life?" Adam asked, and to that she bitterly smiled. He knew her so well. She noticed him thinking about it, and then glancing away, "If they have some Aura, we'll just knock them out once it break. We thinned the Grimm in the area for this attack, chances are they'll wake up before they get found out."

Blake hesitated still. There was always a chance- "Fine," Adam growled, this time more angrily once he noticed her reticence, "But you'll be keeping an eye on them until they wake up. I'll have to get the men to move the Dust elsewhere."

She smiled at that, "Thank you, Adam," she neared him gingerly and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek, slightly sliding up the Grimm mask he otherwise wore. He huffed, but the smile on his lips was unmistakable.

They left the camp in the dead of the night, their eyes reflecting the glow of the Shattered Moon above as they deftly avoided as much as a little broken branch. The rest of the Faunus would move later, to get in position for the Dust recovery.

This was just another way to teach the humans that actions had consequences. That for every single one of them that was mistreated, unheard or denied their rights, there would be a reprisal. This time, they were doing it for a waitress that had been fired from her job, an old Faunus that had been evicted even though he had paid rent regularly for more than twenty years, and a class of Faunus children segregated in a humid basement of a public school during gym hours rather than out in the open.

This would hurt them. The White Fang would keep the Dust hostage until better conditions were met, until their voices were heard, and until justice -true justice- once more deigned to descend on the city of Vale.

They were militant by duty and righteous by all accounts.

Even as those thoughts made her speed up, there was also another part to this operation that was trying to wedge itself into her mind. Dust was necessary in Vale for many things; it was fundamental to ensure the operativity of the Dust generators and those went to work in order to power up the city, the defensive turrets around the outer walls, the automated pumps that drained the rainwater and the Grimm-Oil, and the huntsmen who patrolled the outer perimeters of Vale required Dust to be at their full potential.

What they were about to do would impact their own people still living within the city.

"We should be there soon," Adam commented from her side, lunging from one tree branch to the other, the small horns on his forehead reflecting the crimson gleam of the Grimm mask. He never did remove it, even when there was no need for anonymity; she knew what was beneath it, but more than that, she knew what cruel irony the mask was.

Faunus were considered by the humans closer to the Grimm, beastly in nature -and nothing was further from the truth- but once those words had cut deep enough, they had turned it into their strength. She grasped her own Grimm mask, and put it on.

Tonight, she would be like the Grimm. Remorseless. Devoid of emotions.

She hated it.

She truly hated hiding whom she really was, as if she had to feel shame for her desire to make her people's lives better. She gritted her teeth. Hatred or self-loathing would serve no purpose but to attract Grimm to an already risky, and complicated proposition.

Somewhere, in the darkness of the undergrowth, a pair of shining crimson eyes snapped open and with a rattling hiss, a large snake-like Grimm began to slither forward.

They reached their mark as it was rumbling on through the cold night. The spot was between communication relays; a veritable area of signal lost for one whole minute.

The engine of the train was aglow with the heat of the Fire and Lightning Dusts being mixed to achieve its locomotion, the Gravity Dust etched into the wheels making it lighter -and thus faster than normal- while the top was electrified in case of unwanted passengers.

Like shadows of dark crimson and dark purple, they had seconds to act. There were no windows on the train, and no structural weaknesses. However, it was a train. It was a train carrying highly volatile Dust held in tightly sealed containers. While a simple enough mine placed at the right section of the track could ensure an explosive halt, it would also attract unwanted attentions and on the off-chance it set off a domino-effect throughout the train then there wouldn't be anything left of the surrounding areas, or of themselves.

Adam's movements were flawless as it shattered in his left hand a vial of Lightning Dust, letting the energy run through his Aura and Semblance, and igniting his sword into a crimson, all-cutting instrument that couldn't be parried.

This was his Semblance; to charge up through pain and cut everything that stood in his way. Poetically, he had confided in her that with a Semblance such as his, he'd cut away the chains and shackles of all Faunus, as well as sever the heads of all those who stood between him and his ideals.

With a snarl, one of the side-doors of the train was cut as if it wasn't reinforced steel, but simple cardboard. She lunged in after him, the inside of the car blazing red from the alarm.

A precise shot from her Gambol Shroud, her Variant Ballistic Chain Scythe, and the alarm system on that particular car was disconnected. It would give a 'Signal Lost', but wouldn't immediately raise the alarm.

They lunged forward, taking on the barely awakened robotic defenses. This wasn't the first time for either of them fighting such things, and while they could see in the dark just as well as them, they were but robots armed with crude and rudimentary means of combat tactics. A bullet whizzed past her hair, deflected then by Adam's blade and ricocheted against the wall.

Her weapon swung forward in its scythe form, it cut through the robotic humanoid's neck and then swung back, slamming into another's knee as electricity arched through the chain to overpower its main components courtesy of the Lightning Dust at her belt.

Moments later, and the front door of the carriage opened to reveal a shocked human -one of the huntsmen hired to protect the train, no doubt- who made to scream back and give the alarm to his comrade. Adam was on him within seconds, and though the man deftly managed to deflect the incoming stab with his own weapon -a simple-looking shield of some sorts with spikes on the edges- it was for naught as the next impact came from the scabbard. It was delivered with such strength, the Aura on the huntsman flickered briefly and then disappeared.

The man fell on his knees, eyes wide and breathing cut short and as if by reflex, Adam's blade came swinging down to finish the job.

"Adam!" Blake yelled, stopping the blade an inch away from the huntsman's neck.

"Right," he admitted, twisting his body to deliver a powerful enough kick that shattered the man's cheekbone and sent him to sprawl on the ground, blood and teeth spraying to the side. "He'll live if he's lucky."

"This isn't what-" Blake muttered, but Adam interrupted her.

"We have to move. We'll talk later," he retorted.

But would 'later' truly be meaningful?

The next train carriage was in full red alert, the robotic defenders fully armed and at the ready. Their rifles began to unleash volleys of bullets, aimed at them with the intent to kill. She felt her own Semblance activate, Earth Dust pouring out from her belt and coalescing with her aura in a form just like hers, if made of hardened rock and dirt. She reappeared behind it, while Adam's blade twirled to keep the bullets away from him.

This setback infuriated him. He clicked his tongue against his teeth in anger, "Get to the front of the train and stop it right now! If they call in reinforcements, this will be for naught!"

He then sheathed his weapon and grabbed the back of her stone-clone, lifting it up as the bullets pinged against his Aura, doing no damage but angering him further. With a scream of frustration and rage, he threw her statue against the robots, causing some to break upon impact and a large amount of dust to rise in the air obscuring the sight of the others.

In the ensuing confusion she rushed past them, leaving the fight to Adam and reaching for yet one more train car, this one filled not with robots, but with a shocked huntsman holding on to a crossbow of some kind. "S-Stay back!" the huntsman screamed in fear, before opening fire. Her Gambol Shroud's blade deflected the bolt, only for it to beep and detonate upon impact.

"Ah! Serves you right, you filthy animals!" the huntsman sneered the next second, the fear only a façade. As the dust of the explosion cleared, she was there no longer; only a broken replica of shadow which collapsed on the ground, while her own blade struck against his sides causing his Aura to flare.

"Gah!" He swung the crossbow at her, but she blocked the blow and returned the favor with a kick between the legs. Shocked, yet unfaltering due to the remaining Aura, she proceeded to lay waste on his stomach with a barrage of gunshots, each blow shredding at his Aura until she noticed it flare, and then dissipate.

The final blow had her hook one of his legs and make him lose his balance, before knocking him unconscious with a punch straight to the face, shattering his nose in the process.

She stood back up and breathed. The command car had to be the next one, but had the alarm already been given? As it turned out, it was way worse than that.

"They've broken the brakes!" Blake yelled as she noticed Adam reach her moments later in the engine car. "Why would they do that!?"

"This isn't the time to ask them their reasons," he retorted, noticing that indeed, the brakes had been cut right off, "If we don't stop this train, it will hit Vale-a better huntsman than there two would be able of stopping it-they know we attacked it too..." he cursed, softly. "We cut the coupling. We'll get the Dust, they can get the Engine."

"The others won't reach us in time to get the Dust before the bullheads from Vale arrive," Blake said, "We have to bail, or we might not make it ourselves!"

"No," Adam snapped, "There's always another way."

"See reason!" Blake exclaimed, "We can always try again another time-"

"Maybe," he admitted, "But I won't let them get away with a clean victory." His hand went to his blade, and Blake's own went to his wrist. "Let me go, Blake," he hissed.

"You promised," she said.

"I did not promise anything, my love," he said softly. "And this is not our fault, all of this-it's on them."

Blake tensed, but then quietly shuddered and gave him a slow, painful nod. Her cat ears were flat against her hair, and she felt cold inside, as if dead.

"I understand," she muttered. "But this way-when do the deaths end, Adam? And what happens when we're asked to answer for them?"

"This is a war, Blake. None whom we kill to safeguard our people dies innocent," Adam snapped curtly back, moving towards the train coupling. "We'll cut the coupling, gain some time and detonate the Dust in the cars. If we can't have it, then neither will they."

"Adam," Blake lunged and hugged him tight, her arms engulfing him in a firm grip. "I love you."

"Not now, Blake-" Adam muttered, before he could feel her arms become rigid as ice, his muscles tense as the freezing temperature slowed his reactions down, his eyes wide in surprise and his heart shattering from the shock of betrayal.

Blake knew there would be no forgiveness. She knew she would never ask for it.

With a firm shove, Adam's frozen and trapped body was flung from the high-velocity train and as the ice that trapped him shattered upon impact, he attempted to catch up to the train once more.

In that moment, from the undergrowth of the forest a large snake-like Grimm emerged with blazing crimson eyes, and the figure of Adam was lost to the speed of the train, and to the flurry of movements between the beast that sought nothing but the death of humanity...and the Grimm.

She heard his cries.

She heard his screams.

She did not hear it, but in her heart she knew the unspoken promise he had made, cursing her.

Whatever she decided to make of her life next, one thing was for sure. She had to hide. She needed somewhere safe.

A huntress.

She could become one, if Beacon accepted her.

But scarier than the possibility of them refusing her...

...was the shocking realization of the headmaster's acceptance.
 
Is it just me or is the prologue feels a bit more tragic than the originals?

Good God, Shade is writing another tragic and nightmarish story, isn't he?
 
Did Blake just outright kill Adam?
Because that's going to cause some major butterflies...

Well, no, we must stick to the no-body no-death rule of RWBY.
Adam might possibly return, worse than before.
 
Prologue - Yang Xiao-Long
Prologue - Yang Xiao-Long

The Club was in full swing. Loud music, agitated dancing, screaming in order to be heard by the barman -everything was peachy and the tide of bodies on the dance floor was just the right size where she could slip in and out like the party girl she was.

She was leaving Patch behind to join into Beacon, and she was out for partying. Yang Xiao-Long was a well-built, luxurious blonde-maned girl that had no need for a prince charming when she had a fist at the ready and a kick in reserve, but that night was about partying, and thus that was what she'd do.

The drinks would flow -being an adult was a nice perk- and tomorrow would never come. She hadn't come alone to party, of course. Her friends from Patch were there too, as excited as her and some even drunker than her. The one designated 'driver' who was supposed to herd them all back to the safety of a hotel nearby they'd be crashing in for the night was somberly contemplating murdering them all and hiding their bodies so they'd never pin it on him -he was a bit of a sour candy, really.

All in all, it was going to be an absolute blast. Did she already mention that the music was loud? Because it absolutely was ricocheting through her skull.

"Tonight we're gonna have a good time!" she screamed with sheer delight, her arms around the shoulders of two of her best friends. They laughed in turn, clearly as drunk as her.

"Hey there, sexy-" someone said, only to receive a mock-gag in reply which hastened their retreat.

"Awww, come on! He was kind-of cute," was the drunken comment of one of her best gals. "Lots of pecs! Good ones!"

"We're all in the same room tonight! You can't get socks on the handles!" the other one snickered.

"B-but they'll get cold at night!" was the whining reply.

"Girl, you're drunk," Yang snickered. "Way drunk!" Then, she began to steer them both back to the rest of her friends, so that someone else could take the bullet in her place.

"Driver! Driver! Someone has to go home!" was the reply from her other, not-as-drunk friend.

The designated 'Driver' sighed, stood up, and then began to carry out of the club their common friend. As the time went by, though, the amount of logical, streamlined thoughts started to drop and she soon found herself wailing at the barman for one more drink.

"A strawberry sunrise! Just the last one, please!" she pleaded.

"I've cut you off five times already," the gruff bartender grumbled back, "Night's nearly over, go home."

"Waiting on the driver," Yang snickered, "Waiting on a prayeeerrrr-"

"Want some water?" the bartender asked.

"Add orange juice to it!" Yang said, "And strawberry! Andddddd-" she thought about it, "Tequila! Pa-pa-parapa-Tequila!"

The bartender rolled his eyes behind the sunglasses he wore. It was night, but the disco's lights were rhythmically turning on and off, shining and flashing everything and everyone who still had the strength to dance, or who had arrived later.

"Why won't you give me a sunriseee," Yang whined, her arms crossed on the bar counter and her head on the side, grumbling all the while.

"Because you whined for it five times already. Enough is enough lady," the bartender snapped curtly. "You can stay there quietly until your friend comes to pick you up, or I can have a taxi called for you-but I have soberer customers to serve."

As he proceeded to do just that, Yang whined, "Nooo, don't leave me, you're my only alcoholic hope..." she snickered softly to herself, and then closed her eyes.

She opened them the next morning, her brain pounding in her skull and the snores of her classmates equally wasted all around her. The designated 'driver' had come back for her, truly a champion amidst champions, the God of all Gods, the soldier who'd harrowed gaze through the trenches of alcohol would never be forgotten-that was the designated 'Driver'.

Then, the rancid smell of puke reached her nostrils, and she hurried through the blinding headache to the bathroom, pushed aside another fallen victim of the alcohol, and proceeded to retch.

The morning after was not the best morning of her life up to that point, admittedly. Yet one only got wasted properly once, and the first time was the most important!

She stumbled out of the room after rinsing her mouth with water from the tap. Her friend was already awake, and in a good enough mood down at the hotel's lobby, fiddling with his Scroll while waiting for everybody else to wake up probably.

"Heya..." Yang groaned. "What time is it?"

"Morning breakfast time is over already," her friend remarked. "You want something fast there's the machines over there," he inclined his head to the side of the lobby, where buzzing machines stood in wait for her hard-earned Lien. "Or there's a café at every corner here in Vale, so..." he shrugged, and went back to his Scroll-game.

"Want to trade?" Yang asked. "I can stay here and you can go-"

Her friend chuckled, "Nope," he popped the word out of his mouth and she winced from the sound of it.

With a groan, Yang proceeded to do the shameful shuffling of feet to the machines, and then pulled from her wallet a surviving Lien bill. From the many options present, she picked the one that had the highest chances of making her headache disappear, and a greasy looking cold sandwich coupled with a hefty long coffee pour became her morning breakfast.

"When's the next ferry to Patch?" she asked, massaging her head once her breakfast was over with.

"Half an hour," her friend said. The docks were a fifteen minute walk to reach, and she had plenty of time. With a lazy wave of the hand as a farewell, she left the hotel and began to walk through the bustling streets of morning Vale.

There were so many people hanging around the wide streets of the city, it was still sometimes bizarre to see just how different Patch was from Vale. Mostly, the high-rise buildings and the cars honking their way on the main streets were a sight to behold.

Her steps brought her past a crime scene, where yet another Dust shop had been robbed -seriously, was no one handling the criminals here in Vale? Hadn't they set up a task force or something to bring them to justice?- and after taking a quick detour to grab a second cup of strong coffee, she jogged the remaining distance to the ferry boat.

She boarded it minutes before they closed the embarking, and as the salty air of the sea filled her nostrils, she yelled in pain at the ship's horn blaring that it was leaving port, a small gunship following them closely by, heavy cannons and depth charges at the ready. She had rarely seen it in use -between Vale and Patch was a small stretch of seawater, not something so deep that it would allow for a fabled 'Giant' Grimm to emerge- but some smaller dolphin-like Grimm had been the target of those guns, or of the huntsmen protecting the ship.

Her arrival at Patch wasn't met with much fanfare. The smaller dock had enough space for the ferry and the fishermen's boats, and as she disembarked she was met with the sharp cries of the seagulls, and her dry throat making itself known.

She walked the cobblestone road back to her home, the one she shared with her father and younger sister. The cottage had two floors and a big cellar, and was located away from the main city. That had never been a problem, as everyone in the family was a Huntsman or a Huntress, and the Grimm rains tended to avoid most of Patch, preferring the more inhabited -and thus more rife with negative emotions- city of Vale and its outskirts.

This didn't mean that there weren't Grimm on the island of Patch, but they were few, and usually quickly handled by any of the locals. Her father was probably already awake and out for work, but as she stepped inside she was assaulted by a cheerful barking, Zwei the corgi happily running towards her and then jumping the distance to her face, tongue out and ready to be friendly.

"Zwei!" she exclaimed, holding the corgi in her hands, "Aw, I'm gonna miss you when I'm off to Beacon!" Yang rubbed her face against that of Zwei, who took the cue to wash it with its tongue. "Who's a good boy? You're a good boy," she chuckled, and then let it back down on the floor, where it began to run in circles around her.

"Where's Cookie-Ruby, Zwei? Find her for me!" Yang said, cheerfully.

Zwei barked, and then rushed off outside once more. Of course, Ruby would be in her laboratory. Yang sighed, and after grabbing juice from the fridge and gulping it down, she decided it was time to hear the noise of her little sister's workshop.

Her headache was mostly gone anyway.

She found her adorable baby sister with a pair of thick glasses and holding on to a series of empty cartridges in which specific Dust-ratios were being carefully inserted a drop at the time, while spiral-like tips stood on the side. Zwei was lolling his tongue out, seated like a royal king on his cushion nearby.

"Heya sis-" as she said that, Ruby screamed in surprise and then bolted in a storm of petals as the detonation she left behind ricocheted a bullet against the wall and the various, modular pieces of mecha-shift weaponry that hung all around the workshop, before ending up an inch away from Zwei's unfaltering waggling tail. The corgi did not move. The corgi knew it was too cute to be hurt.

"Yang!" Ruby yelled, her cheeks full in an angry pout as she glared up at her with her silver eyes, "What did I tell you about scaring me when I'm experimenting!?"

Yang smiled, "Not to, twerp?" she retorted before ruffling her hair. "What are you working on?"

"Armor-piercing delayed-explosive," Ruby said, "I'll have to widen Crescent Rose's firing chamber, but it's worth it to have something that can push through a bullhead's armored side door and-"

"Sis, you do remember what the local constable told you last time you asked about legal means of acquiring explosives, right?" Yang retorted.

"To ask a permit for anything above the threshold, and have the required documentation at the ready each time a law officer asks," Ruby answered primly, "But anyway that's not important right now."

"Oh no?" Yang arched an eyebrow. "What is then?"

"I've been accepted into Beacon!" Ruby yelled, a bright smile on her face.

Yang blinked, then her eyes narrowed. "You're fifteen."

"Yes, I know! I spoke with the headmaster and he agreed I could cut some years since I'm so experienced and advanced!" as she said that, Yang stared in disbelief.

"Did...did you tell dad? What did he say?" she asked, carefully.

"He said he was surprised, but I am good enough to try," Ruby said, "I always do extra training with you, and him and uncle Qrow when he's around-and if I fail the entrance exam, I'll simply finish my combat training in Patch and try again later."

Yang nodded, a clear look of disbelief on her face which Ruby didn't catch. "How...how exactly did the headmaster of Beacon end up noticing your skills, Rubes?"

The answer given did not fully satisfy her.

"I mean, Ruby-you're making it sound like you were toyed with-"

"But I did stop the robbery from going through," Ruby retorted, "and I got close to capturing that thief!"

"But you didn't show any worthwhile skills as a Huntress that would justify skipping two years," Yang said, "And he did escape, Ruby."

Ruby's eyes took on a sadder hue, "It's like you're not happy I could be going to Beacon with you, Yang."

"It's...it's not that I'm not happy for you sis, but...have you considered that maybe you're being too hasty?" Yang retorted. "You'd be in a new school, without any of your friends-"

"You'd be there!"

"Yes, but I'd also have my own friends with me-you'd be around adults, Ruby. Everyone is going to be older, expect certain things from you-what if you can't deliver on the history exams? Or the literature ones!"

"Yang...it's a Huntsmen school, they don't have history exams!" Ruby said with a huff.

"Ruby," Yang sighed, "They do have them. They even a professor with a doctorate in history!"

"Then I'll just study extra hard!" Ruby pouted, "I'm going to try out, and you can't stop me."

"I don't want to stop you, Ruby," Yang pressed on, "But I want you to think, really think, if that's what is best for you right now. It's not like you can't wait two years, right?"

"But..." Ruby hesitated. "I guess..." she exhaled, "I'll do the initiation exam. I'll study extra hard. If I don't make it, then I'll blame myself for not listening to you, Yang, but...but I want to try. Please, let me try?"

Yang exhaled, "Course, little sis. Your life's yours. I just worry a bit, you know?"

It was her duty to worry, and think twice before doing something...

...since their mother's death, and her last, poorly thought-out decision nearly got them both killed.
 
The one designated 'driver' who was supposed to herd them all back to the safety of a hotel nearby they'd be crashing in for the night was somberly contemplating murdering them all and hiding their bodies so they'd never pin it on him -he was a bit of a sour candy, really.
Yeah this would most certainly be me.

Also, if this Shade ends up taking page out of "I, Jaune" and is actually the culmination of multiple Shade's uniting into one massive "We are legion, for we are coffee" hivemind, I think I might just have to become your slave for half a year.
 
Hmm, and this is how you expose the setting to your audience without having to resort to a clueless character who has to have everything explained to them. We clearly know Yang and Ruby are from a huntsman family. We know Oobleck and Port visit Taiyang. So why wouldn't Yang and Ruby be aware of the teachers of Beacon? Here, they have knowledge about the world they live in.
 
Last edited:
Hmm, and this is how you expose the setting to your audience WITHOUT having to resort to a clueless character who has to have everything explained to them. We clearly know Yang and Ruby are from a huntsman family. We know Oobleck and Port visit Taiyang. So why wouldn't Yang and Ruby be aware of the teachers of Beacon. Here, they have knowledge about the world they live in.
It should be noted that this is a lot easier in a written medium than a visual one. The internal thought processes that are providing the worldbuilding here would triple the length of the anime versions and make it mostly exposition. This sort of thing is why books that rely on good worldbuilding are hard to convert into TV/movie formats without massive loss. This adaptation is the same thing in reverse. The ability to do this kind of thing is part of why books are so resilient against new technology.
 
Is it me or does this Yang seem... suspicously rational?

Even at the club Yang despite being drunk had enough sense to not set things on fire. Its wierding me out guys.
 
I've got to be honest there's yet to be anything in this story that grabs me, so far it's all just been slightly altered and edgy versions of canon and feels kinda like one of those self entitled "RWBY is so bad, I can write a better version" stories
Hmm, and this is how you expose the setting to your audience without having to resort to a clueless character who has to have everything explained to them. We clearly know Yang and Ruby are from a huntsman family. We know Oobleck and Port visit Taiyang. So why wouldn't Yang and Ruby be aware of the teachers of Beacon? Here, they have knowledge about the world they live in.
I mean that's really not a fair comparison, not only does written fiction not have to concern itself with time restraints, budget and scheduling but it can also almost entirely consist of internal monologue and thoughts without feeling weird which a show can't do

Not to mention there's the question of how much is the information being conveyed well and how much is people already being familiar with it
 
Last edited:
Episode 1.
Episode 1.

Beacon stood at the far edge of a crevice, which separated the main city of Vale naturally from the vast mainland beyond and the wilderness teeming with unchecked Grimm. There were multiple landing pads for the air-transports that led them to the best Combat school in all of Remnant, and the on-flight trip was coupled with a buzzing radio delivering the latest news.

"Reminder for first-time students that your Scrolls must be connected to the local Beacon-Network through the received Username and Password. Do not share your accounts with other students. Do not loan your Scrolls to others. If you Scroll has broken or is malfunctioning, please see the Technical Department as soon as possible and they shall provide you with a temporary replacement-" the voice was sternly speaking and it belonged to a blond-haired woman with a stern, witch-like gaze of teal eyes.

Ruby glanced at the figure on the screen recognizing her for the adult that had 'taken her in' after her attempt at stopping the robbery had failed, and sighed, gloomily noticing that she was standing on the bench with a wide berth all around her.

Yang had gone ahead during the embarking procedures to be with her friends, leaving her to make her own way aboard a different transport Bullhead.

Ruby was a grown-up girl who knew what to do, and while on one hand she was now glad that she might have a chance at not being in her sister's shadow, on the other...she glanced around, to where other older prospective students were talking to one another. Everyone had a friend. And those who didn't have one were still braver than her in finding someone to chat with, or busy with their Scrolls.

Her sister had been somewhat right, but she wouldn't give her the satisfaction of being completely right. She'd put in her best effort, break out of her shell and find someone to talk to and become friends with, or her name wasn't Ruby Rose!

Her options were now dependent on whom she could talk to. There were a few good options, but as she finally gathered the courage to stand up from her seat to go talk to the first one, the pilot's voice echoed to announce that they were landing, and thus her chance was taken from her.

Her shoulders slumped. She tried to keep a positive attitude all the same and descended the Bullhead ready to follow the other students into Beacon. That was when she was shoved to the side by another student hurrying for the closest bin, the sound of retching soon following the trembling shoulders of the blond boy in question.

She winced sympathetically at that. Sometimes she was so nervous she felt so queasy, her own stomach made spins and turns and-wait a moment.

There it was! The perfect solution to her troubles!

"Ex-Excuse me!" Ruby piped from the back, "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah," was the rough reply. "I just-I'm not used to Bullheads." With a deep breath, the boy stood back up. For one thing, he was taller than her by a long shot, and for the second his dark blue eyes were strikingly filled with worry. He wore some manner of armor that reminded one of a knight, and his weapon by his belt, a seemingly innocuous sword in its scabbard.

"Oh? Well, neither am I-it's not like one has a private Bullhead parked in the garage for everyday shopping," Ruby giggled. "I'm Ruby! Ruby Rose, first year huntress-to-be!"

"I'm Jaune," the newly named Jaune replied, "Jaune Arc, short, sweet and it rolls off the tongue," he nervously laughed in turn, "I'm also a first year to-be."

"Wonderful!" Ruby said, "Then...is it your first time here in Vale? Where did you study? What's your weapon like?"

"Well-" Jaune nervously chuckled. "It's my first time in Vale in general-I studied at a preparatory school near my village, and my weapon's-" he pulled his scabbard up, without unsheathing it, "Crocea Mors, a hand-me-down from my great-great-grandfather," he smiled as he said that. "I'm also here to try to keep alive his memory." He shyly looked away. "I know it's silly-"

"No, no it's not," Ruby said firmly. "I think it's great." She smiled. "Your weapon's an antique, then! Does it uses specific Dust cartridges, or-"

"Ah, no, no, it's just...it's a sword," Jaune said, "and the scabbard becomes the shield. That's...that's it."

"Nothing wrong with the classics," Ruby remarked, "But what do you do when a Grimm's flying and you can't reach it?"

"Eh-Well-I wait for it to come to me," Jaune replied, "But anyway-" he looked around, "Where did everyone else go?" he asked, quickly changing the argument.

Ruby blinked, looked around ever so briefly, and then gasped. "They must have gone ahead! We've got to hurry! I don't want to be late on my first day here!" with a sudden bolting of rose petals, she rushed off.

Jaune hurried after her, "Wait for me!" he yelled, in his hurry passing by a white-haired girl who was instead pushing her cart filled with baggage. "D-Do you need a hand?" he asked while still in a jog-like manner.

"No, thank you," Weiss answered flatly.

"All right, see ya!" and with that, he dashed once more after Ruby.

Weiss, meanwhile, sighed and resumed her pushing of her own baggage. She had purposefully avoided getting any help from any whatsoever servant; she was here to prove she could handle herself, and a Schnee did not ask for help when they could handle things by themselves.

She started to regret it once it became clear that she still had a long way to go towards the main hall, but by then, there was no one around that could help her. At the same time, with no one around her, she could just use one of her Glyphs to speed things up.

It was an acceptable compromise.

Blake Belladonna watched from the nearby shadows the figure of one Weiss Schnee speed through the grounds of Beacon with a Glyph to help her, and her fists clenched. Atop her head, a dark blue bow now rested to hide her Faunus ears. She too soon followed, her expression settled in cool indifference.

The main hall where all prospective students had to gather was large, and contained a small stage from which the figure of Headmaster Ozpin would talk to them. Wearing dark green and with a pair of glasses on his nose, he watched with barely contained boredom the assembled students. Behind him were a few of the professors, with the deputy-headmistress glaring at those who had arrived late.

"Welcome to Beacon," the headmaster spoke crisply. "Where students become Huntsmen and Huntresses; where children such as you become adults. You will learn over the next three years what it means to fight against the Grimm and how your actions, both on the field and in the villages and cities of Remnant, can influence and impact the livelihood of everyone. We are all connected."

He tapped his cane against the stage, held in his left hand. In his right hand, he instead had a mug from which he took a sip.

"This mug, for example. To obtain it, the ceramic material was provided from the mines near the mountain range by hard-working men and women, which was then transported through a truck all the way to a refinery and then worked upon to produce one amidst many similar products. It was then shipped off to Vale's local supermarket, and bought by me on a tedious morning."

A few of the students chuckled at that.

"Five people died last year for this to be possible," the Headmaster replied. Silence soon followed. "Two miners were crushed by a Goliath before the huntsmen could force the Grimm to retreat from the mine. One driver and his huntsman escort disappeared in the forest, and one of the perimeter guards of the refinery was swarmed by a pack of Beowulves even as the defenses tore them to shreds."

He took another sip from his mug. "Beacon accepts only the best of the best; you will prove this tomorrow at initiation. To those of you that will fail tomorrow, do not think that you are not good enough to be a huntsman; simply that you are not good enough for Beacon. We will not coddle you. You must prove, day after day, that you have the drive to excel, the will to survive and the desire-yes, the desire to become a better person than whom you were the day before. Do that, and Beacon shall guide you to become a true huntsman or huntress; a figure tasked with defending humans and faunus all over Remnant from the threat of the Grimm. Today, rest. Tomorrow, be ready to fight for your very lives."

He gave a small nod to the audience, and to hesitant and somewhat nervous claps, he walked off the stage. The Deputy-Headmistress took over, clearing her throat. "That was Headmaster Ozpin. I have instead other words for the likes of you; I am professor Glynda Goodwitch, Deputy-Headmistress of Beacon, and I will be overseeing you for the duration of your stay here. Those of you who pass tomorrow's test will be accepted fully as students of this prestigious academy. If there are any questions, now is the time to ask them."

A hand rose up in the air. "How many pass routinely?" someone asked from the gathered crowd.

"Between as few as four and as many as thirty-two," Glynda replied. "Though the former is rare as much as the latter. Beacon is not like the other Huntsmen schools in Vale which accepts all; it is an elite one. We have not gained our reputation for excellence by allowing subpar students to stay."

The gathered students were a good fifty or more after all; to know that more than one had to leave, it was a worrying thought. To think that it could be them, it was quite the source of nervousness and stress.

Yet, in many of those eyes stood something more, something which Ozpin himself smiled at in noticing.

For what is the worth of a simple soul, if it is too weak to face the rising storm?
 
What's this? Avoiding a forced confrontation with Weiss!? Is this even allowed?
 
Finally, some change! It seems this isn't the full rewrite I thought it would be. It's clearly moving along under the belief the reader knows a fair amount of the world already (no Salem/Ozpin intro here), and also makes the choice to forgo the original meeting of Ruby, Weiss, and Blake. I'll admit, I'm curious as to why this was avoided myself.
 
Back
Top