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It's black when I wake up. That's not so unusual, I wake up with my eyes closed fairly often, after all. What is unusual is that it seems like I'm standing, and not wrapped in my lovely navy blue comforter made of warmth and softness. I open my eyes, and wouldn't you know it, still black. Well...this is unusual. Has to be a dream, you know, one of those dreams where you know you are in a dream, but cant wake up. I ran a hand through my hair, still tied back the way I'd left it when I went to bed. My hand hadn't even touched my head when a quiet voice spoke up. " You are a heavy sleeper, but Im afraid I need you to wake up now." the voice is small, and feminine. I try to turn around to face my newfound companion, but I cant quite turn. At most I get a silvery white glow of light out of my periphery. Weird. " Where am I?" I ask, growing slightly creeped out by this dream, " In the space between worlds. I'm sorry about this, but we didn't have any choice, we had to choose someone, and we chose you." is the response I receive.

"Well that's hardly encouraging, you chose me? What for? Where would I possibly be needed?" I question the voice. Silence is my only response, and the soft silver white glow I'd seen before is now gone. Just me and the Blackness. Wonderful. I close' my eyes and think sleep, sometimes i've been able to force myself out of dreams and back to unconsciousness this way, and as I imagine my warm blankets, it seems to work. I exhale deeply and settle down to what I hope is sleep.

No good, despite regaining a semblance of comfort, I seem to still have that weird level of Dream Consciousness, and once again, I open my eyes. There's light. My alarm clock maybe? No, couldn't be. I havent used an alarm clock in ages, I switched over to my phone long ago. The light, it's coming from the moon in the sky. The moon...was fragmented... wait that isn't how the moon is supposed to be. That almost looks like... Oh Geez, Have I been watching too much RWBY lately? Im dreaming about the damn fractured moon that hangs in the sky over the fictional world of Remnant, the world in which the wonderful product of RoosterTeeth's , "RWBY" takes place. No, the last thing I need to dream about is this. I'm already aching for Volume five, I'd rather sit this one out. I roll over and force myself back to that idea of sleep. I want to be rested for work.

Sun hits my eyes. and wakes me. I blink groggily, by some trick of the light, or just the sleep in my eyes, the sunlight coming through my blinds looks more like the sun is shining down through the boughs of a tree, but thats ridiculous, why would I be under a tree?, Sure enough, as I rub the sleep from my eyes, Im under a tree. A quick self examination reveals several things, as I get to my feet and take stock of the situation. Im fully dressed, but not in anything I own, A leather vest without front facing pockets, greyish fur trim on the collar, blue jeans I dont quite recognize, and knee high brown leather boots, laced to the top and tied tight. There are brown leather bracers on my arms, buckled with small metal buckles. Ive got a belt on the resembles my old Viking belt, leather strip looped through an iron ring, however this belt is also equipped like a gun belt, slotted with large bullets almost all the way around.

I do a further examination, my rings are still on my right hand, the Runic band around my thumb like normal, and the celtic knot on my ring finger. Hanging from an attachment on the bullet viking belt is...My drinking horn? Sure enough, the hollowed out cattle horn hangs just behind me on the right side, just the way I normally hang it. I grasp for my neck, fingers grazing my beard, searching for the ... Yes! My Mjolnir pendant still hangs about my neck, the heavy weight of the 32 gram hammer a small comfort in this sudden inexplicable event. Thats when I notice the handles sticking out over my shoulders. I reach up and pull the weapons off my back, a gorgeous but modern looking pair of bearded axes, with grooves and seams in the hafts. I admire the craftsmanship, I've always been a fan of well made axes, when my eyes catch words inscribed in them. The right, Magnis, and the left, Modis. Named for Magni and Modi, Thor's sons?

More stock taking, as my mind rushes to catch up to the changes, my right arm itches, and I scratch at the shoulder, seeing my tattoo, a Duskull from Pokemon, about the size of a softball, on my right shoulder. That's when I notice my arm is a lot more muscular than I remember... Have I lost weight? I rub my stomach, and don't feel the normal flab Im used to having, just a flat stomach. This just keeps getting weirder, but I find I can live with suddenly being fit. I return my attention to the axes, Theres a switch on the bottom end of each haft, and I toy with it on Magnis for a moment, before some inner mechanism activates. The blade folds and collapses, and so does the haft, as it re-configures itself, taking the shape of a large revolver, with a fairly blocky appearance, but I can tell, the slugs are huge, matching those on my belt. Oh boy.. I recognize this technology, and I am now very afraid, cause the only place I've EVER seen stuff like this was in RWBY. Am I in Remnant?

I don't have long to ponder, as the rest of the world rushes into perspective, Im standing under a large oak tree, in a small but clearly habitated area, there are buildings here, and they look to be slightly Asian in style and architecture. Mistral? Right where the RWBY Volume 4 left off. Just as I process this information, a scream rends the air. I turn, and see a woman cowering under the baleful gaze of a large black creature, with a a white and red face, and eyes that glow as if they were embers straight from hell. Grimm. Before I can even think, I've shifted Modis, raised both peacemakers, and fired, the still scene erupting in fire.

I had only just finished composing my mental list of Do's and Don'ts, when I am approached by several people. The leader is an elderly man, skin browned from years of toiling out of doors. He is joined by the young woman from before, who still looks fairly shaken from the close encounter with the Grimm, and a young man of fairly similar age to the young woman, who looks somewhat relieved. The elder speaks up first. " T-thank you, young huntsman, for defeating those horrible beasts." I blink owlishly. Huntsman? Right. Me. I technically just did a thing that would only be the action of a Huntsman or Huntress. " I-it was nothing, anybody'd have done the same. Just happened to be here." I shrug. To be fair, I fought those Grimm as much out of self preservation as protection of the innocent. Not really keen on dying. " How can we ever repay you?"

I open my mouth to respond, before remembering that I am not from here, and some things would be hard to explain. " Well, Sir... I, uh, am journeying to the city of Mistral, and due to an unfortunate accident, most of my possessions were destroyed the other day. I have naught but what you see me carrying, and I could sorely use supplies, or the money to see to such, if it isn't too much of an imposition." I explain politely. Fairly true without giving away too much. The old man nods sagely. " I run a small shop here in the village, we may have much of what you need. Come, we will set you back on your path." He hurries off, beckoning me to follow.

Sure enough, the group leads me to a small shop, filled with various goods, and items. Its not quite a general store, but close enough. They quickly set about getting me a large pack, filling it with supplies. Fire starter, a small collapsible pot and pan. a flash light, a sleep roll, and tins of food, mostly beans, and vegetables, but much better than nothing. some extra socks. Unfortunately no extra changes of clothing, but I couldn't ask for more help. With the pack loaded and ready to go, the Elder opens a draw and pulls a small fold of bills, Lien. " It is not much, but may it bring you good fortune." I smile, and accept the money. I go to pocket it, when my eye catches on a sturdy knife in a display, sheathed in plain leather. I ask him how much for the knife. Instead of telling me the price, he simply hands the knife to me. I question him. " Are you sure? you've already given me so much." He smiled at me once more. " No, please, you save my children, What is one knife against the lives of my family?" I graciously accept, and slip the sheathed knife into my belt. I've been a lot of places, and done many things, and it never changes, no matter what tool you have, what supplies, no matter how cool these revolver axes are, a good knife can always be friend on long journeys.

They point me on the road to Mistral, and I set out, the morning air heavy with the smell of dust in the sunlight. It's warm, and even though what ever brought me here has put me in clothes that aren't mine, Im glad for the lack of sleeves. I've never been one for the hot temperatures, which makes me Incredibly glad I didn't wake up in Vacuo. I would shrivel in the desert, and blow away before I got anywhere. Ok, maybe an exaggeration on my part, but I REALLY don't like hot weather. Still, though the air is warm, and rapidly getting warmer, it is not uncomfortable. I can really stretch my legs on this hike, since I dont have any other means of travel, Im gonna have to hoof it.

Here comes the worst part of walking long distances by yourself. You start to get real lonely, and it can make the trip seem like it takes ages. The only way I know how to treat it is to have music. Now, I dont have a phone, or a scroll, or anything like that, and even if I did, I seriously doubt I'd get Pandora or a similar program, but I do know a bunch of old blues and bluegrass songs off the top of my head, and after humming a few bars, I start to sing kind of quietly to myself. People have told me I sing alright, but even with no one around, still a bit self conscious. For some reason the first song that came to mind was Freight Train Boogie . " Now, Casey Jones , he was a mighty man, and now he's restin' in the promised land. The only kind of music he could understand, was a big eight wheeler under his command. He made the freight train boogie, all the time. He made the freight train boogie as he rolled down the line." Legacy of a misspent youth, knowing these old songs.

I trek through the day, going through about every song I know, some of them more than once, old favorites. No encounters with Grimm, and the dirt road soon stains my clothing with light brown dust. in the afternoon, I fish out a tin of beans, and eat them cold as I walk. Not the best meal, but since it is my first meal of the day ( The run in with that awful grimm stench had spoiled my appetite), it was satisfying. The Sun started to set a few hours later, and I set about making camp, just off the road in a copse of tree. Not an amazing camp. Just my new sleep roll, next to a few rocks I ringed up for a fire pit. I spent about an hour gathering wood, and getting a fire going isnt terribly hard, Enough times lighting camp fires, and locomotive fireboxes comes in handy. Yet again, legacy of a misspent youth. I throw some small tins of beans into the pot with some water from a nearby stream, and while those cook, I whittle a rough spoon from a tree branch, using the knife the old man was kind enough to give me.

I've still got some time before the beans finish cooking on my small fire. I take some time to acquaint myself with my weapons. I practice switching between axe and revolver, through various actions, from standing still holding them, tossing them and flipping them. After about twenty minutes pass, I feel like I've got it, almost like it is starting to come naturally, which seems odd to me, since when I first learned to fight it took me days to finally start holding my axes correctly. Perhaps that mystical ...entity... that brought me here gave me all the power and skill I'd need, I just have to do a little soul searching to find it?

I return to my beans, eat them with gusto, and bank the fire, and curl up on my sleep roll. Im not used to sleeping on the ground, after a year or so on a pillow top mattress with memory foam topper, and I find it hard to get comfortable, but I suspect it'll get easier as time goes on. I close my eyes tight, and try to focus on dropping off to sleep.

My name. I hadn't considered this. What could the ramifications of divulging my name be? It sure didn't fit into the whole color based names thing this world has as established cultural norm... It'd certainly give me away as an outsider. After careful consideration, I determine that giving my real name is unlikely to cause problems. I'd also have to explain my origins anyway, if I were to run into someone like Qrow or Ozpin, and lies are far harder to keep track of than the truth. It'd probably be alright to tell Yang or anyone else my whole Shtick. Yeah, kosher as gefilte fish.

It's at this point I realize Yang has been looking at me expectantly because I trailed off like an idiot to do an internal discussion with myself.

" My name is Matthew. Friends call me Matt. It's real good to meet you Yang." I tell her.

" Matt? That's an odd name. Wait! I didn't mean tha-" she blurts, realizing what she just said might be incredibly offensive.

I motion for her to calm down, with a chuckle. " I'm not offended. It's Ok. I'm not.. from around here." I quickly settle down and explain my situation to her. " I am not from Remnant, Im from... a different world." I say, gesturing vaguely. " I woke up two days ago, in a village back that way down the road. I woke up with nothing but the clothing you see, and these big cleavers." I affectionately point a thumb at an axe haft. " Honestly though I'm a bit worried about my longevity. Where I'm from, I can handle myself in a scrape, but my world... well, we don't have anything like this." I grin sheepishly and pull Magnis off my back, and shift it from axe, to peacemaker, to axe again. I leave out the bit about the fact that physics works alot differently, in my world, her sister would break her own bones swinging her scythe the way she does.

Yang nods quietly, absorbing my story, as she chows down on the second fish. She really must have been hungry. She finally wipes her mouth, and smiles, and that smile is like a bolt of sunshine, even in the dark of night. * the Insides of my head briefly melt like butter. " I dont know that I understand it, but I think you believe what you told me is the truth. That's kinda rough. No friends, no resources, just a pair of weapons and a vague idea of what to do? Well consider yourself plus one friend! I'm going to Mistral too. We can travel together, and maybe you can help me find my sister. I know she'd like you! Heck, I'll even help you get in fighting shape. Especially if you keep cooking like this!" She grins, waving the now empty stick I had skewered the fish on.

" Yang, you have no Idea how much I appreciate that offer, and I happily accept." I grin. One of my To Do's accomplished. Kinda. small victory. I'll take it. First, I need to do something. " So, you are looking for your sister?" With this innocent question, she begins to tell me the story of all that had happened, prodded along by more innocent, innocuous questions. I hate to deceive anyone, I've always striven for honesty in my dealings, but I have to have some way of accounting for my knowledge of things that happened before my arrival. She covers most of the fall of beacon, and leaves only a little I'd have to find a way to get out of the others. Thank goodness I wont have to lie my way through most of it.

" Anyway, it'd be best if we get an early start, so I think we ought get some rest. I can take first watch if you want." I offer, and gesture towards my sleep roll. Yang didn't seem to have any outdoors gear with her, probably depending on that motorcycle of hers. I've always tried to be a gentleman, and letting the lady take the only slightly more comfortable bed roll instead of the bare dirt is definitely a good choice. I settle myself against a rock,and cross my arms over my chest, and lounge in the warmth of the fire, as Yang settles down for some sleep.

The fire crackles and pops, and the river comes alive as the nocturnal creatures come out. Frogs and bugs make a small racket, and the river sloshes as it rolls lazily along. It reminds me of places I've camped before, it's peaceful. Relaxing. If I wasn't still amped from meeting Yang Xiao Long, I might actually be able to doze, even just resting on the bare ground. However, meeting Yang has brought a fresh wave of energy and I couldn't sleep just yet if I tried.

As far as bars go, I've been in worse dives in worse place with worse people. The food is plain, simple bar stuff, sandwiches and the like. Yang orders a glass of Lemonade. Im surprised when I dont get asked for ID when I order a pint. Yang, however, questions it.

" You drink beer?"

" yeah, I mean, Im old enough, and its something I enjoy, though not everyone cares for it." I explain. She'd probably balk at my preference for black coffee too. The drink's come first, and my pint glass is full of amber liquid topped with frothing suds. Nice. I raise the glass to Yang, and offer the toast, " To new Friends. Skol." and then tip the glass and take a hearty quaff. I must have been thirstier than I thought from the road, because I manage to down that pint in about 30 seconds. It's not bad. Not overly hoppy or bitter, and I can taste citrus and spice. A pretty good craft ale. " Hey, thats pretty good. I might need to get another." I grin at Yang, who crosses her arms over her chest and states " Don't go getting drunk now, I'm not gonna carry you around town."

" Oh come on, it's not mead after all. Now thats the brew I could drink all day and night." I comment, thinking of the sweet yellow wine made from honey. " The best nights i've ever had, I was drinking good mead." I laugh. " besides, Im a happy drunkard, get all giggly."

Our food comes, and I get a second pint, but pace myself on this one, trying to enjoy it. The whole time we eat, and laugh, and tell tales, I've got one eye on the group near the back. They look none too happy to see me, clearly not from around here, and there are some very obvious ( to me anyway) leers at my blonde companion. By the time several of them saunter over, Im feeling that nice happy buzz from the alcohol, and i've got a grin plastered on my face. One of the men comments " Hey blondie, what ya doing with this tramp, you should be with a real guy." I'm not sure, but I think he's mocking my appearance. Granted after a few days on the road, my hair is unkempt and dust stained, and so are my clothes. Now, I'm fairly certain Yang would play along for a bit, before punching these guys through the wall, which Im sure the proprietor wouldnt care for, and since I'm a fair guy, I always try to give some one a chance, even if they don't deserve it.

" Hey look buddy, She's hannnnging out with mee right now." I lilt, letting my head roll around with the good pleasant buzz. " Iiiii don't want trouble, per say, buuuuuuut if you insist on mocking me, Iiiii'm gonna have to do something." I grin at the the one who called me a tramp. He shoves me back a little, and says " You want to start something?"

Yang almost gets up, but I silence her protest with a gesture. " Iiii bet ya..." I reach into my pocket and count out my Lien. " all the money I got that I knock you and your boys to the ground."

He smirks, and responds " You're on Punk!"

Shortly before my fist connects with his jaw.

He reels backwards from the surprise blow, and his buddies, both at our table and theirs are slow to react, not expecting me to seize initiative. Before he can stumble back and recover, I drive a solid fist into his stomach, causing him to exhale explosively with a Puh! One back handed blow from my left fist sends him sprawling to the ground. One down for the count.

It's at this point that I feel one of the larger ones wrap his arms around me from behind, and pinion my arms to my sides. Hes a strong fella, but I know how to fight with my head, and speaking of fighting with my head...

Krak!

He lets go of me as the back of my head collides solidly and unflinchingly with his face, blood streaming from his nose, and howls of pain issuing from his mouth. I turn to face the rest of his party, who are staring all in some level of disbelief as I've dropped two of them. While chairs scrape in their rush to bludgeon me for my offense, I drain the last sips from my second pint, and smile.