Alright guys, I'm new here and this is my first Fanfiction ever. It follows the story of Damian Laapis, a new student at Beacon Academy at the same time as teams RWBY and JNPR. You know the drill, I didn't create RWBY the series, just my specific character and some of his friends. So please, rate and review to your hearts content, happy reading!
-t

UPDATE: 5/11/15 Dang, it's been awhile. College is definitely a thing. But, it's summer now, and that means two things! one, I've learned enough to realize how bad a lot of my writing is. I like the idea that it's trying to convey - but it does a bad job at conveying it. Starting here, I'll be re-writing all of the current story. I don't know if it'll be exactly the same, in fact, I can almost guarantee that it won't be. But it'll be better - at least in my opinion. Announcement two: as it is now summer, I plan on writing a lot more, as well as actually setting goals for myself. Will it work? We'll see. I want to write one chapter every week to two weeks at a minimum. So for the time being at least, you can count on semi- regular updates. Questions? Comments? Advice (I could use it)? hit me up with that review button down there.
Again, thanks to you all who still frequent this thing - I still get views somehow haha xD. I'll catch y'all up with Damian and Co. in a future update, and as always happy reading!

-t

CHAPTER ONE:

I woke up at 4:37 in the morning and couldn't decide to be excited or devastated.
I settled on frustrated.
Today was the day I left my home for Beacon Academy, the shining light in my dreams for the past few months. Today I got to start learning to be a hunter, and to fight against the Grimm around the world.
And today was the day I had to wait 12 freaking hours to do it, because my subconscious decided that I'd had enough sleep and needed 12 hours to prepare for it.

My subconscious is a jerk.

I sighed heavily as I slid out of bed and began putting on clothes. I had half a notion to sneak into the sparring ring and fight some drones, when I realized that I was attempting to pull my shirt onto my legs. Maybe I could TRY to sleep... I glanced ruefully at my bed before deciding that sleep wouldn't be forthcoming this morning. Might as well get some training in before the airship filled with all the people judging you, right?

Before we get sucked into this, maybe you should know who you're dealing with. My name is Damian Laapis, and I kill monsters. Haha, I've always wanted to say that, but the opportunity doesn't come up as often as you might think. I stand about 5'9" with brown hair and brown eyes, or some people say hazel. Beacon Academy is a premier school for Hunters looking for higher education, and I had gotten in somehow. Being homeschooled is pretty uncommon for Hunters, most of whom have to go to prep-academies just to get into a secondary school, but here in Mistral if you compete in the Mistral Tournament, and do good, you're automatically advanced to the next "school year". I've been abusing that loophole for the past three years, making it all the way to Beacon without having to step foot in a school mostly because I hate schools. To be more specific, I hate the short-sighted teachers and students who inhabit schools, and they've made it clear that they hate people of my, ah, unique descent. I'm not completely human, or at least I don't look like it. I have four ears and a tail, the extra bits being a part of my Otter faunus heritage. Unfortunatley, Otter's are some of the more notorious thieves and murderers, and that makes the world assume we're all cut from the same clothe. I just really like to swim, and happen to be a heck of a lot more nimble than the rest of you mere mortals which makes fighting and Hunting pretty easy for me. Now, back to where you found me...

The Mistral Region's Official Tournament Training Center was state of the art. I had to admire that, even as its central computing system began analyzing my style in an attempt to find the best way to kill me. I stood in the middle of an empty arena, holding my sword and shield, Battlewing and Splinterstorm respectively, straight out from my sides. My shield is round, about two feet across, and spirals down into a gauntlet that straps onto my left forearm. Circumgyratio Procellæ was engraved on the shield face along with a stylized drop of water being held by trembling air waves, both in such a way that they showed whether the weapon was shifted into a gauntlet or a shield. Yeah, my shield is a weapon too, not just by bashing people with it either. The edges of the shield aren't a perfect circle, instead they form four points with razor edges between them so I can slash or block if I need to. The outline looks like a hurricane with four very thick arms, that's the best I can describe it as. Battlewing was a far more intricate weapon than Splinterstorm, and it was engraved with Et Alas Bellum, as well as another of my symbol, the water droplet in air. Battlewing took the form of a longer than average greek leaf-bladed sword, with a considerably wider point than average. This made piercing armor a little more difficult, but still doable with enough power, while strengthening the blade an incredible amount. Battlewing also mechashifts into a second, more powerful form, a fact the computer soon registered with a blinking light and a tone.
'PLEASE SHIFT WEAPON TO CONTINUE APTITUDE SCAN'.
I smiled a bit to myself, and obliged. Battlewing's hilt twisted under my hand, while the blade lengthened and folded in on itself, becoming a fourteen foot long spear with a wide tip, also good for both stabbing and slashing. The base of the spear featured a heavy lump weight that housed a small dust port. The tip of the spear had a surprise as well, but the computer's limited knowledge of weapon crafting and my own ingenuity hid it well, to my satisfaction. Of course,tricking a computer was easy, tricking an opponent was a lot more difficult. Only time would tell if people began to catch on to my weapon's secret weapon.

'APTITUDE SCAN COMPLETE. RECCOMENDED MAXIMUM THREAT LEVEL, EIGHTY-THREE PERCENT.'

This made me pause. Eighty three was beyond the capacity for multiple enemies, which meant that I would have to watch my back extra hard. Whoever programmed the combat system took sick pleasure in having small enemies capture your attention, then spawning a boss three feet behind you. I normally scored around a seventy-eight or so, which gave me the most difficult solo battles. The Mistral Tournament was all single battles, so I had never bothered to try and get passed it... I guess now would be a good time to try.

I shifted Battlewing back into a sword, and Splinterstorm back into a gauntlet knowing the fight would start off slow. I was right, and I watched a single nearly full-grown Beowulf spring to life before me.

It grew up from the ground, clawing its way out from the cement floor of the arena. If you looked close, you could see as the tiny mechabots that made the thing aligned themselves with others to form muscles, packed around a simplified skeleton of hardened 'bots, slowly being surrounded by smooth black skin 'bots, that changed colors to show where the bone plates and ridges of a real Grimm creature would be.

I backed up to the wall, not wanting to get ambushed early, and waited. The beowulf swiftly found me with it's painted on eyes and roared, trying to frighten me. Sometimes it gets the trainees, but not me.

I held my ground with my sword up in front of me in a two handed grip, at a forty-five to the floor. Lowering my center of mass, I prepped myself for a fight. This... I thought to myself This is gonna be good.

The beowulf charged, claws swinging in from both sides as I rolled under its spread legs and sprang up behind it. Before it could turn, I stabbed Battlewing into the unprotected back of its neck, and watched as it crumbled into thousands of tiny mechabots. The stream of 'bots quickly formed into two more piles however, and two more fully grown beowulfs joined the fray. I exposed a brief smile and charged the first one before it had completely gotten out of the ground, timing my stroke to cut off its head just as it became vulnerable to attack and thereby ensuring I wouldn't get a penalty. The next one had its left arm amputated before being disemboweled, and the three after that were cut in half in one stroke, through the first's head, the second's armpits, and the third's waist. After that though, things got hectic: seven more boiling spawn point formed, this time with the heavily armored Ursa coming at me.

Shit. Ursa were much tougher than Beowulf, but they could dish out as much as they took. I quickly shifted Splinterstorm out, then headed to the biggest empty space. They'd have to fight to get close to me through the others trying to kill me.

While the first five Ursa were still up, there wasn't much space. I ended up ducking and rolling a lot, and as a result of their wide, hard to turn stance most of the took slices to the back and disintegrated, but the last two teamed up and both pounced at the same time, massive glittering claws aimed at my general bodily area. If I took even one hit, I'd be skewered.

Time slowed down as even more adrenaline flooded my system, and I looked for a path out. Left was out, blocked by an enormous torso, right equally so by a large forearm. That left...
I closed my eyes and jumped straight up, as high as I could, spring-boarding off the sweeping arm of one of the Ursa to give me more height. I pumped my aura into the air underneath me, flinging me into the heights of the arena, jumping far higher than anyone on physical power possibly could, while at the same time shifting Battlewing into the massive spear I favored. I flew upward, did a neat flip, and pushed out with my aura at the ceiling, screaming downward in a spiral with spear pointed downward and my shield carving dents in the air as I fell straight into the piled pair of Ursa, my spear tip plunging through the first one's skull and continuing through into the lower one's chest cavity, literally ripping the two of them apart.

The computer beeped at me, and the walls informed me that it had increased the threat level to eighty-four percent. I only grinned in response, lifting my spear into position and beginning to spin through the ranks of enemies spawning, slashing left, stabbing at those that tried to tackle me, and spinning with Splinterstorm to inflict nasty slashes upon flank after flank. The floor was littered with rolling mechabots as the creatures they attempted to create were destroyed just as fast as they appeared. After a few more minutes of fighting, I was tiring quickly and the horde of creatures was only beginning to die out. Endurance was a problem I'd always had, never able to go all out for long periods of time. Wait...
Shit. Not like that! I just... ugh.

Finally the tide of creatures stuttered to a halt, as the last Boarbatusk was deflected by my shield and a kick, then flipped onto its back by a handy gust of wind and obliterated. I gasped for breath, and noticed that the Threat Level had somehow creeped its way up to eighty-seven without me noticing. I backed into the wall and leaned against it for support, trying to regain my energy as quickly as possible. My aura couldn't block attacks, unless they were airborne projectiles, and it couldn't heal me. Every minor hit I'd taken was right there with me, pulsing along with my heartbeat like a second suit of bruises. I was losing focus, getting reckless. I needed to calm down. There was something important about the number eighty-six, something I needed to remember. But I was at eighty-seven. Danger passed then, my wandering mind decided.

I continued leaning on the wall for support, watching for any movement of mechabots on the floor.

Which is why I initially didn't see the gargantuan head of a King Taipan fly out the wall on my right, and twist around to orient on me. I only noticed it when its body hit the floor, as its tail flew out of the wall in a storm of 'bots, but by that time its head was already halfway through a lunge at me and I wasn't blocking it. I saw its mouth open, fangs an eternity long each, all seeming to reach for my throat as I flinched backward and tried to roll away, but up against the wall as I was there was no where for me to go. The King Taipan hit me like a wrecking ball (wreeeeecking baaaalllllll) and I flashed into unconsciousness as its fangs closed around my head.

I woke up to the computer beeping rhythmically, its report of my battle clearly displayed all over the walls. I was good at combat with several enemies, but anything much more than five tended to disorient me, as I try to focus on all of them at once. Once my focus is down, it is relatively easy to knock me out with one large threat, that I would have been able to beat at full strength.
Also prevalently displayed along the walls was a countdown of how long I'd been unconscious (oof) and a large, friendly looking message that chilled me to the core.
'DO NOT WORRY. MEDICAL PROFESSIONALS ARE ON THEIR WAY TO ASSIST YOU. HAVE A NICE DAY!'
But I had snuck in. The center wasn't supposed to be open for another, I did some math in my head, forty-seven minutes. I had already been out for about eight minutes, which gave the "professionals" eight minutes too many to get here. I had to make a choice, either to get out and eventually face this later when the aptitude scans were evaluated, or confront it now and face the consequences. Which, altogether I reasoned, shouldn't be that bad. I was one of few given permission to use the facility without over watch, due to my prowess in the last three Mistral Tournaments, but that was during open hours, which this wasn't. I could lose my credentials with the center, and maybe have to pay a fine for breaking in, or do some community service. Or both. But I was leaving for Beacon in six hours and ten minutes now, which meant that punishment would have to be dealt with over telecommunication.
I sighed and went out to wait in the lobby, where the EMTs would certainly come through. As I sat in the darkened room, waiting for my fate, a thought came over me.

The room was dark. The room... was dark. I suddenly leapt up and sprinted for the arena doors, kicking them open and examining the computer description on the wall.
...scans your body and weapons to determine...will cut away simulation if you ever come into danger...sends out a report to the main office computer, which can then relay medical authorities to your plight... Wait, there it was! The combat computer was separated from the main office computer, all it did was tell that computer that I needed help! It couldn't call them itself, it just sends a message! But since the power in the main office was out, the lights and all the computers hardwired to the secure system being off, that meant the main computer was powered down as well. No message had been sent! No one was coming, except the people o the opening shift. I had to get out of here fast, but if I did I was home free! Excitement and relief swept through me as I collected my gear and dove through a window opening into a covered courtyard. Jumping over the back fence was easier than walking, as was sneaking back onto public streets. No one spared a glance at me as I walked several blocks back to my home and soon I was back in my room grinning like a fool.

Stretching tiredly, I set my alarm for a two hour nap, and quickly went back to sleep.

Like it? Hate it? Either way, please feel free to let me know! I believe those beloved review buttons are somewhere around here :D