[RWBY] RWBY Shorts

[ExFelineServer3]

Not sure on the exact circumstances but What If? Cowboy Jaune and company end up defending a town from the SDC due to the town (Arizona/Nevada/Utah arid desert-like rocky canyon environment) sitting on an epic Dust Deposit/Cave System.
The SDC wants to buy them out, for a reasonable amount of Lien, but nothing compared to the amount of Lien that the Dust would come to and the townsfolk know this. Thus, someone in the SDC, could be Jacques or one of his underlings, gets greedy and starts to try running people off the land through various methods that culminate in captured Grimm being released to terrorize and demoralize the town. Which leads to Hunters being sent and then learning about what is occurring and trying to find a solution to it.

 

[SpaceK0k0nut]

Worldbuilding idea. Humans in the real world have an interesting relationship with fear and the dark. More specifically, fashion sometimes embraces both. Halloween costumes are one example, but the ones that really come to mind are emo and goth culture and fashion. Remnant may have something similar.

Enter (with some assistance fleshing it out from ChatGPT) Remnant's equivalents to goth fashion.

Grimmcore

Heavy use of Grimm imagery. Black/white/red palettes. Stylized bone masks. Fake fur modeled after Beowolves and Ursa. Red piping mimicking Grimm markings. Contacts designed to imitate particular species. Accessories shaped after claws, horns and teeth. Perhaps elaborate cosmetic "bone plates" for parties or concerts.

Mourning Goth

More aristocratic. Long coats. Veils. Dark formalwear. Victorian-ish silhouettes. Silver jewelry. Less "I am a Beowolf" and more "I attend funerals recreationally."

Salem herself might accidentally fit this category alarmingly well.

Huntsman Goth

Probably especially common among combat-school students.

Black tactical clothing mixed with Grimm motifs. Heavy boots. Weapon accessories. Stylized trophy imagery. Perhaps actual cleaned Grimm fragments would be culturally controversial or simply impossible depending upon how quickly Grimm bodies evaporate, so imitation materials become standard.

The vibe is: "Yes, monsters hunt us. I put their face on my jacket."

Neon-dark/club goth

Because Remnant has advanced technology and Dust.

Glowing Dust-thread accents. Reactive makeup. Hard-light jewelry. Programmable contact lenses. Red or purple illuminated trim.


And all of this with classics like black shirts (sometimes 'artfully ripped' in places); black jackets, hoodies, or hooded coats; 'artfully ripped' blue or black jeans; clunky black boots; black leather wristbands (sometimes studded with metal or fake Grimm bone); decorative metal chains; necklaces with Grimm skull/tooth/bone motifs; rings with similar motifs; fisnet shirts and/or stockings; fingerless gloves; striped stockings; fake Grimm fur, feathers, and/or scales in clothing; hoods patterned after Grimm heads or masks; black nail polish; and possibly white makeup to make the skin appear paler or even Grimm-bone white.

Salem is, understandably, confused when Tyrian eventually introduces her to the subculture by claiming to have found a "community of like-minded souls that embrace the glory of the darkness and my Queen".

Click to shrink...

Here's an additional from my OC folio:

Abyssalcore
Heavy seafaring motifs, naval inspired clothing/ acessories, lots of dark colors, hanging cloth and bleached bones.
Heavy mix of leather, thick cotton and rusted brass. Primarily Napoleonic-era style clothing, Huntsmen will frequently add tactical gear where able. Think cthulu mythos mixed goth fashion.

 

[digcat]

One of the big things about westerns is getting vengeance on the bad guys. So how about Jaune and the gang taking down cultists who destroyed a little town.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

I will admit due to Red vs. Blue and Monty's HALOID I do put a lot of Halo influence into my depiction of the militaries of Remnant.
The ground vehicles are very closely based on Halo vehicles, as an example. The Valeans are able to airlift all their heavy vehicles anywhere. Their focus is more on mobility, logistics and maneuver, whereas Atlas is more of the "mobile fortification" school of thought.

That is, Atlas is more of the "Come at me bro" strategy where they make an unassailable position and grind attackers down to nothing, then attack. Whereas Vale is more about maneuver warfare. Both militaries do use defense in depth and maneuver, of course, but it's a difference of prioritization and main focus.

And much like the UNSC, anything the size of a small capital ship and bigger will carry troops. And frigate-sized vessels can land, and thus, function as light troop carriers as well.

---

The frigate moved far more quietly than a ship the size of a flying building should.

It came in low up the river valley, gun decks dark, belly already open, four Dust jacks glowing neon red. The militia strip west of Radian was a little more than a broad stoop of packed gravel and painted rocks. The ship came down on it as gently as a floating feather, landing gears slowly extending.

Jacks kissed dirt. The keel groaned like a locomotive hitting the brakes. The whole hull settled until the grass lay flat under the shadow of the prow and the ramp hit with a sound like a car slowly crashing.

"Down and cold," the boatswain called, which was a lie. The reactors were only quiet. Quiet enough that the first Chimera tank could roll off without the lift cells fighting the weight.

Forty tons of Valean armor came down the ramp, smooth as you please. Marines in Radian green-adjacent kit drove in Dart all terrain utility recon vehicles, peeling toward the tree line. The Sky Drake anti-air battery, the same bogie-suspension and hull as the Chimera but the turret packing four rotary cannons, followed closely, radar already scanning above.

Mercer Senior watched from the fence, ears flat, with Nick and Jaune Arc watching. The old cat Faunus grunted, and adjusted his rotary gun arm.

"They always look so green when they come by," he huffed. Nick grinned.

"Well, that's because they're in training."

Mercer grumbled.

"They gotta train near my fields? They keep driving into the wrong ones."

"They're expanded fields and you're resting them," Nick consoled, "Not even in the main town."

"Even so," Mercer huffed.

"They pay us plenty for it, and it's good to let them," Nick soothed, chewing on a wheat stalk, "They need the experience."

Jaune's eyes were fixed on the last Dart. Rather than Marines, it carried a dark haired, grim looking man in black and silver armor with a massive sword, a smirking redheaded woman in a witch's hat with a low cut dress to show off her large cleavage, a grim faced man in while with a staff that glowed faintly with restrained power, and a blue haired woman with twin swords, standing at the mounted rotary cannon in the bed of the Dart, wearing a grin.

Hunters, he thought eagerly, Real Hunters!

There was a commotion at the treeline. Dark forms emerged-Black bodies, with their ravenous faces covered by bone masks. Grimm.

"And they take care of a few Beowulf packs that get in too close," Nick commented. Mercer scowled at his friend.

"Ain't that supposed to be your job?"

"Well, when half the militia is out for a wedding, it helps," Nick said. Mercer grunted.

"We could handle them all ourselves!"

"Yes, but they need the practice," Nick emphasized, as the Marines opened up on the Grimm. The Chimera tank fired, blowing apart several Beowulves. The pack scattered into smaller groups, trying to outflank the Marines. The Darts moved out as escorts for the Chimera and Sky-Drake, their guns booming loudly as they engaged the small Grimm at range to keep them at bay.

From the frigate, a Tigertail VTOL rose. It flew up and over, its own cannons joining the fight and blasting through the trees, taking out Grimm hidden in the leaves and branches of the small wood. Jaune stood up on the fence, leaning forward to get a better look.

Why didn't I bring binoculars?!

Even at this distance though... He could make out something big moving through the old wood. Something that fired off jet black spikes that shot into the Marine vehicles. A few men cried out in pain as their vehicles suddenly resembled porcupines. The Chimera kept firing, as did the Tigertail. The whole Marine platoon pulled back, and the Hunters stepped forward.

A reptilian Grimm bigger than two city buses stacked on top of each other burst out of the timber with a roar. Red eyes. Beaked mouth. A ridge of spines down the back.

"A Tarrasque?!" Mercer shouted. "How the hell did it get this close—"

He turned and glared at Nick. Nick sighed.

"What? They asked for more of a challenge."

"It's a Tarrasque!"

"And that's a challenge!"

The man in black drew the sword and shifted it into a rifle on the run, putting rounds in as he blurred from tree to tree. The witch raised her staff and hit the beast with Fire and Ice until it bellowed. The blue-haired woman vanished and came back above, below, and at its knees; the twin blades had become short autocannons, bolts biting deep and cooking off inside the hide. The Tarrasque answered with another spray of spines. The man in white put Dust shields up and the spikes sparked off like rain on a barn roof.

The rifle became a sword again. The man in black went through the thing's legs.

It hit the dirt hard enough that Jaune swore Vale City felt it.

The swordsman tapped his ear, snapped something at his team, and they were gone — back to the Dart, peeling out with the Marines. The Tigertail stayed on station and climbed.

Jaune blinked in confusion.

"What's going-?"

Nick covered his ears. Just in time-The large guns of the frigate opened up on the Tarrasque, great clouds of dirt and debris blasting into the sky like a small volcano was going off. Even with his improvised ear protection, the booms of the guns shook Jaune to his core.

It took a while for the smoke and dust to settle... But when it did, the Tarraque Grimm was dead, dissolving away into smoke.

Jaune grinned and held up his hands.

"THAT WAS AWESOME!" He shouted.

"It sure was!" Nick laughed, patting his son on the shoulder.

Mercer scowled at Nick.

"I'm telling Izzy you let a Tarrasque get this close to the town."

"NO! PLEASE!" Nick begged, already on his knees, "HAVE MERCY!"

 

[digcat]

Nick is not getting any tonight.