A/N : This fanfic set in the RWBY Universe (RWBYverse?) has been brewing in my mind for quite some time now. This features two of my OCs and a rather disturbing backstory to one of them.

I've actually had a FictionPress account for a long while but it has been too long since I let my literary muse guide my hand. Basically it's like starting over from scratch.

While this has barely anything to do with anyone we all know in RWBY, the references can't be denied.


Anyways, let's get on with the show.

A lone figure in white robes was standing on the deck of the airship, staring at the wisps of clouds up ahead. The gusts of wind picked up on the wild black hair and played it about, sometimes whipping it to its owner's face. It went unheeded, however, as the amber eyes stared ahead, blank, distant.

Faint voices could be heard from somewhere below; the standing figure simply ignored them, knowing whoever was down there wouldn't even think of looking up.

Once again, the figure sighed softly. Random thoughts flit by, until they led to an old memory, one that gave rise to a harshly-pledged oath. "I still remember," a soft voice hisses to the wind.

The amber eyes close, and once again all is dark. The darkness is such at pitch blackness, that it only barely allows vision at extremely short ranges, even for human standards - and that's saying a lot already, how much more worse would it be for Fauna.

Hearing is better off - although to a normal human, it would sound like very bare whispers, to them it was a haggle of fearful whimpers, barely reassuring shushes, and tearful sobs. In the midst of this was the very faint sound of pained cries, and what seemed to be something or someone crunching fish bones.

"Child, come closer," a familiar voice calls out softly in the pitch darkness. "Hold your little sister for a while. I will sneak to the gate and see what's happening. Make sure she stays quiet. You girls are better at it than the boys." A vaguely-remembered nod, then the feeling of large, reassuring hand placing itself on her head, then the gentle easing of a tiny, wrapped bundle of cloth and warmth placed in her hands.

All seems to be well, contentment until awareness kicks in and the sounds of general movement reaches the sharp hearing. A startled cry escapes from the lips, and the emotions slam back, the raw fury and pain welling again, all deeply ingrained with the all-too-clear memory. It was one that most others would do almost anything to bury or forget.

The shock of having her little baby sister being forcibly taken from her. How their human captors took pleasure in taunting her, goading her to come closer, then suddenly shutting the gate in her face. How they first hurled the helpless baby to the floor, a yelp of surprise and pain echoing. How she was forced to watch as their human slavers remorselessly and brutally end her life by kicking on her and literally crushing her tiny body with their full-grown feet, shod in boots.

All the while, she was buried in shock, barely registering the struggles and cries as more of their family was slain, in front of her. She felt hands roughly grab her and force her to face a faunus boy - her elder brother, she realized with a start - and slit his throat slowly, in front of her, not even three feet away. They even tossed his body to where her little sister lay, mangled to death mere minutes ago.

It was the last straw for her. Once they finally decided they had had enough and finally kicked her baby sister's dead and mauled body back towards her, yet still outside of her reach through the gate bars, just barely beyond her reach, it was then that her mind closed itself. One part of her was glad, for her baby sister will no longer have to face the mockery and rejection that plagued their kind; she will no longer have to endure hunger, shame, and pain. But another part of her was screaming for blood; it had to be justified, the senseless killing had to be paid in kind.

She knew they would be coming for her. And her only thought was of avenging her dead family.

Even though expressly forbidden by their clan, she grew her claws but kept them discreetly hidden, taking care not to show them whenever others were around. She now slid them out and let them fly, the sharp points digging into the arm of the human who made the mistake of straying too close.

The next moments were blurs of movement, red-hot fury, cursing, and much confusion. At the end of it all there was only her - bruised, wounded and had several broken ribs - and the second-in-command for the humans, who held a bent club. At this point she had given up leaving alive; if she died here, there would be no regrets.

However, before she could move, the human made a weird gurgling sound and fell face forward. Behind him was light, and the sound of shuffling cloth. She strained to see against the light, but only saw several figures towering above her.

Wary of more of the hated humans, she unsheathed her broken and bloody claws, ready to kill and die. She was surprised to see an elderly Faunus kneel down in front of her, gently take her hands, and tell to her softly the first kind words she had heard from someone other than her birth parents: "There is no need for them, child. You can rest and heal your body and mind, and we shalt provide for thee."

A few more moments passed and awareness returns; she was now back on the ship deck, fifteen full years since the tragedy. Her amber eyes open and whisper into the air: "I still remember. Clearly. "

"Ah, there thou art, Sirocca."

She turns slightly, glancing at the human who just addressed her. "Myst. What are you doing here?"

The addressed human girl takes a few more steps closer and leans against the railings. "I shalt admit to searching for thee. Pray, tell me, wilt thou not cease in tormenting thyself by resurrecting thine inner daemon time and time again?"

Sirocca only sighed. "I cannot. I will always remember their cries; like a shadow they'll cover my life. But I'll also remember mine... After all, I'm still alive."

I'm sorry for the really long one here.

Oh, and this will also serve as a bit of trivia. There's one tell-tale lyric line in there, which reveals what I was listening to when I was writing Sirocca's backstory. And if you've been watching social media feeds recently, you might notice something really familiar (and trending as of right now).

Reviews and comments are more than welcome - although I would really appreciate it if negative reviews can be worded without the cusswords. (Having to deal with them 8 hours a day is taxing enough. And on top of that I will only get to write a total of one to two days a week combined. Ugh.)