"As you can see by these reports class, the creatures of Grimm have been growing bolder and fiercer each passing month. Who here can tell me the possible reasons?"
Professor Bartholomew Oobleck was zipping around the class as usual. Titus wondered if it was really just coffee in that mug of his.
"Yes! Ms. Mongle!" Oobleck said excitedly.
A girl with short auburn hair spoke confidently from the back of the class.
"Several theories have been made. The first is that the continued hostility between the faunus and humans are contributing to the negative energy that give Grimm's power. The second is that the Grimm themselves are growing and adapting to face us more effectively."
"Precisely!" Professor Oblique set down his mug and addressed the entire classroom. "I'm sure you all realize the seriousness of this phenomenon. Until we can locate what exactly is causing this growth and counteract it, I'm afraid we'll all have to be on our guard. A potential attack can happen at any time, and even here at Beacon."
The class took a moment to digest this information.
"But until then, I want a report on pages fifty six to sixty four. Have it ready by next class. That is all."
The professor zipped out of the classroom, and the class grew in chatter as the students made their way out. Titus sighed, putting his books away. The students at beacon were some of the most promising combatants in the world, so he couldn't understand why they made those students sit through hours of lectures and theories.
He looked around and seeing the classroom was nearly deserted, quickly made his way to the exit. He just got past the door frame when his neck collided with a very firm arm.
"Hey Titus!"
The girl who had answered the last question in class had been waiting for him, and she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck into a chokehold. The large of amounts of brown cloth that made up her light coat smothered him slightly as he struggled against her grip. Titus strained to escape, but she was determined to not let him go.
"Hey Connie," Titus managed, flailing slightly. The few remaining students walked past not giving the odd scene a second thought. Just another Tuesday morning.
"You weren't at the team meeting again," she stated, tightening her grip. "I ended up waiting for hours."
"It's too stuffy in the rooms, and I like sleeping outside," Titus said managing to slip out of Connie's grasp. She quickly locker her legs around his and pinned his arms behind his back, they fell to the floor with a small oomph.
"I gave you orders, and I expect you to follow them," she told him. Titus struggled, trying to throw her off.
"Teams are supposed to work together Connie," Titus reminded her, ignoring the fact that he chose to spend most of his time away from the team.
"Yeah," Connie replied before pulling Titus closer and rubbing his head with one of her fists. "And I thought I told you to call General."
"Hey! Position of team leader does not entitle you to a military rank."
"Might as well get used to it now," she said releasing her grip on Titus's grey hair. "The Mongle family has a proud history of military leaders and I'm not about to disappoint."
"Don't you think you should wait for an actual war to break out?"
Connie glared at him through her spectacles. She finally relented and got off Titus, only to lift him up in the air and set him on his feet.
"Combat practice is starting soon, and I expect you to be there." Connie gave him a stern eye. "No skipping or else."
She left, leaving Titus to massage the bruises she had left him.
"Why did they have to partner me with her?" Titus wondered aloud as he rubbed his wrists, watching Connie leave. Even with the traditional initiation being much harder due to the increase of Grimm, Titus couldn't believe his luck when he was paired with the person who had the worst time.
When he first met Connie, she seemed nice enough. Then she demanded to see his semblance and weapon. He responded by immediately walking away.
He was the last to arrive to the training fields, an outdoor arena where the light breezes and warm sun made for an enjoyable environment to get beaten senseless. All eyes were on him, as he quickly made his way towards the back of the class. He sat on the grass next to Connie, who was refusing to meet his eyes, and his two other teammates.
"What's her problem?" asked Gwen. The sun glinted off her chestplate, the result of many hours of care. It was of smaller design focused on minimizing weight and seemed custom made as a holly branch was engraved on the front.
"Ms. Viridian!"
The combat instructor for today, Glynda Goodwitch, was staring at them.
"Save the chatter for after class, perhaps?" she proposed, raising an eyebrow and flicking her wand back and forth.
"Right," Gwen replied, with a nervous smile. "Sorry Professor."
"As I was saying," Glynda continued, "Grimm are not our only concern when it comes to threats. These combat sessions will help you learn how to fight other humans and faunus, as well as find non-lethal ways to restrain your opponent."
Beads of sweat began forming on Titus' forehead. There was no way he was going to get away without using his weapon.
"Please find an unoccupied sparring circle with you partner and begin combat on your own marks. The better you can suppress your partner, the more weaknesses will be revealed for them to work on."
The students split off, some eager to begin immediately while others were looking rather nervous. Titus felt a tap on the back of his head. Connie glared at him again and motioned for a nearby sparring circle.
"As an aspiring general," she finally said as they took their positions, "it's my duty to make use of my troops to the best of their abilities, even if they refuse to share anything."
"I don't suppose you'll settle for hand to hand?"
Connie pulled her weapon off her back. The large two handed battle axe could probable cleave Titus in two if it just fell on him. The blade head resembled a large curved M, and screeched in the air as Connie gave it a few test swings. The white sheen of the blade edge contrasted against the black metal of the main metal head.
Titus remembered a rumor Gwen had passed on to him, that the reason Connie had the worst time was because she had systematically killed every Grimm that had crossed her path. He tried swallowing with his now dry throat.
"Try not to die!" Connie yelled as she charged at Titus.
