RWBY Shorts

Hunter's Dream

A man sits alone in a bar near the docks of Vale. A place he often frequents in when in town, the Crow Bar. In his hand is a glass of cold liquor, his fourth so far. He's not even slightly drunk.

The screen in the corner of the bar catches his eye. The image shown is of four young huntsmen-in-training, evident from their weapons. Exultant smiles tell the story of their victory. Along the bottom of the screen are the words "Team JNPR Defeats Team BRNZ!"

"Huh, those kids weren't half bad," says the bartender, as he wipes off a glass.

"Meh," grunts the stranger, raising his glass to his lips once more. As the next match is announced, he starts to get caught up in his thoughts.

That team would have never made it into the tournament if it wasn't for that Nikos girl. The black haired kid was fast, but had no stamina at all. A second hit from that cattle prod would have downed him. The girl in pink was strong, but telegraphed all her attacks. Against a smarter opponent she wouldn't last a minute. And that blonde kid… don't get me started on him.

He takes another sip.

Maybe the tournaments just aren't what they used to be. I remember, when we fought in that tournament, we had to fight tooth and nail. Bullets flying, blades clashing, blood pumping, dust doing… uh… dust things… and that was just the qualifying round! We didn't win, but we should have. We were the best team to ever graduate from Beacon. Team STRQ.

He takes another sip.

We were the coolest, the strongest, the best team I've ever been a part of. Though that's not what I thought when we first got together. Being on the same team as my sister and Tai really pushed my limits. Tai was always a lady's man, though he seemed to take particular interest in my sister, for some reason. And sometimes I just couldn't stand my sister. But Summer…

He takes another sip.

She held us all together, our hyperactive, crazy, adorable leader.

He takes another sip.

A whistle from the bartender reminds him or where he is. He gives a quick glance to his right and sees ten empty glasses that he certainly does not remember drinking.

That's something I can drink to, at least.

"Now that was a match!" the bartender says. The stranger had seen enough of the match to know what to say.

"Heh," Qrow retorts, a slight slur in his words. "That was a mess."

"Come on man, you didn't like them, the Vale kids, or any of the rounds before that?" remarks the esasperated bartender. "What fight are you here for?"

The noise from an aircraft outside catches the huntsman's attention, and he grins at the sight of an elegant vessel with ribbons flying from its wings behind it.

"That one."

END