Intro, Team CADJ

Cane Dirge

Grey eyes gazed out into the Mistralian forest scanning for any sign of man or Grimm. It had been three days since he had stumbled into the downtrodden little village, miles away from the nearest city walls. And Cane had made it his personal mission to keep these dumb bastards alive. It was a matter of honor.

For the last few nights around midnight the Grimm had come, followed mere hours after by bandits. Cane hated bandits. Opportunistic heathens with weak auras, cheep weapons, and no moral compass. They used the Grimm like shock troopers softening a towns defenses so they could sweep in and tear the inhabitants to shreds. Almost any village without strong walls and a good huntsman died in this way. And so would this town. If Cane hadn't gotten lost that is.

"Thank the Brothers for shitty tech," he snorted to himself as he stood on his newly erected earthen ramparts. His scroll had gotten fried in a freak rainstorm and his wandering feet had brought him to a hodgepodge collection of hunters (the squishy, boring kind) and farmers. Tired of all the political bullshit and elitist pricks in Haven they had wagon trained it out to a nice clearing with good resources and no Grimm. Unfortunately they had terrible instincts and no knowledge what the hell Grimm were. Night came, a quarter of them died. Day broke, and bandits robbed them blind. All hope was lost. And then a head of messy brown hair and green leather armor came flying through the forest like a dying nevermore and cut the now fleeing bandits to shreds with a twin blade.

Hell of an entrance if he did say so himself. Most of the villagers belongings were recovered, the dead were buried, and on Canes orders walls were built. In just a day he had turned the little clearing full of huts and scared children into a defensible position with an eager if untrained guard detail. Not bad work for an 18 year old hunter with anxiety issues. Then again, his friend Alister had always said, "Even a weak Atlas hunter is better than everyone else" to which Decker would respond "If one could weaponize egos, Alister would be a living bomb" ah, Cane missed those guys. If he could ever get himself out of these damn woods he'd make sure to call them. But first things first. The Grimm were coming.

With a hideous howl a troop of beowulfs came loping out of the tree line. Crimson eyes and bone white masks startling against the night. "20?" cane wondered aloud "you're going to need more than that. I have you outnumbered!" he dove into the fray, his twin pistols sounding out like a military cadence as they tore through the Grimm's black flesh like paper. In a blink they were dissolving into the darkness around him, and he hadn't even broken a sweat. "any more?" he whispered into the forest. Challenging the fell beasts to charge him. He was a huntsman, and a team leader. A prodigy who had graduated at only 16 from one of the most prestigious of combat schools in remnant. As crimson eyes pierced the night, and deep roars the silence, he smiled. He was Cane Dirge and it was battle that made him feel truly alive. The next hoard of ursae didn't stand a chance. Over the course of the night Cane repelled wave after wave of big nasties from the bulwarks. Laughing, howling, and switching his weapons through every one of their eccentric forms at his hyperactive whim. By the time the sun rose above the tree line the ground was littered with black forms dissolving back into the primordial pits they were birthed from. "I love my job" Cane whispered to himself. He turned towards the barricade…. Just in time for the gunshots.

"CLEVER BASTARDS!" Cane exclaimed charging with all his might towards the villages northern defense. While he had been busy playing with Beasts the animals had shown up. Infusing his aura into his knees and calves, Cane leapt the 20 foot barricade with a single bound. Inside the walls he whisked past scores of frightened children and elderly hiding in the doorways waiting for the dangers to pass. A wise move. In most cases they would have all done this. Praying that the bandits would be content with whatever loot they could find in the open and leave. But not now. Now the adults fought. The northern walls were lined with men and women in their prime firing dust ammunition into the throngs of hodgepodge villains below.

With a smile Cane gazed on his work, the same way a father would his child. Or a kid would after teaching their pet a trick. All it took were some walls, a bit of ammo, and the threat of death. Now he had an army. The bandits below numbered maybe 60 strong. Most had aura and could take a few hits. But not all. The ground was already littered with the bodies of fallen attackers. Blood still oozing from wounds that had long since took their toll. And more were dying still. Not one to miss out on the action Cane converted what were now two automatic pistols into a high powered rifle. The transformation took a matter of seconds but it still seemed slow compared to that of most huntsman's weapons. With a total of four forms Confusion and Enigma were like an ADHD arsenal in one (or two depending) package. Completing the transformation He began adding his rounds to the others. By the time the cowards finally turned tail and fled, the ground had been painted red.

The villagers let loose a clamorous chorus of elation. Patting each other on the back and smiling like doofuses. But he supposed they had earned it. When facing a world that tells you your very existence is ultimately worthless, any victory feels astounding. Turning away from the throngs as they climbed down to burn the dead, he came face to face with the town's mayor and her husband. The elderly couple had been very kind to him when he wandered in. And he counted them good people. "thank you so much huntsman!" the old woman smiled at him conveying a relief so strong it almost made him sigh "we never would have made it save for your efforts. If there is anything you need let us know."

"….."

"Ah! Her husband spoke up, I forgot to mention, I've fixed your scroll. It should be in fine working order now!"

"…." *nod*

"Are you alright deary? you look pale"

In truth Cane was not okay. Damn social anxiety! He thought to himself. It always went down like this. In battle he was strong, confident, powerful. Then people tried to talk to him and he morphs into a stump. "damnit brain!" he screamed internally "be witty!" "fuck you, I'm a potato!" his brain replied. Damn asshole memer brain.

"We wish you would stay" a young woman's voice rang behind him. He turned to see one of the kids walk towards him "We could use a hunter around here. Look what you did in only a few days." He blushed then blanched. Oh dear Brothers no…. He thought. The ultimate catch 22. I can't walk away or it would be rude and fuck with my anxiety. But I can't explain the situation because of my anxiety! Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Lucky for him a shrill ringtone of Valeian Grind Metal saved him. "Hello?" he answered into his phone. "Cane" the dry voice of Ironwood replied "Report to Atlas. We have matters to discuss." It wasn't the grim tone, clipped words, or general apathetic voice that worried Cane. That was how the aged general always sounded. Nor was it the abruptness of how he had been summoned to his Alma mater (Atlas always had something that needed attention). It was one detail. One crucial, tiny, and nearly imperceptible detail. General James Ironwood had used his first name. Blanching he threw his scroll back into his pocket. Anxiety forgotten in his haste. "I have to go…" he took off sprinting into the woods toward where he hoped was the nearest city and air field. "By the fucking Brothers Alister, what did you do!?"

Alister Ignus

Why were drug deals so boring!? Alsiter had been waiting for 2 whole hours in the abandoned warehouse on the edge of town (how cliché was that?) Yet still the fang hadn't shown themselves. Maybe they wizened up? Or maybe I was just bait? Or perhaps…. They're making me wait! The thought angered him so much his eyes turned red! Wait….. weren't they always red? Bah! It was of no concern. Bad enough Ironwood's flunkie has me pulling a drug run. Now I have to wait on some stupid faunus to make up their minds on whether they mean 3:00 AM or PM. He turned looking into a sheet of polished steel that lay by the bay doors. Gazing back was his own stunning (if distorted) reflection. Long blond hair, crimson eyes, and princely features wrapped in a burgundy long coat and leather pants. As pretty as he was however, he knew that his most notable trait. That honor belonged to his skill, intelligence, and general sociopathic nature. Together they made him one hell of a huntsman. Or a serial killer…. Honestly the two lines blurred together so often that he was beginning to understand his teammate Janus's choice of profession. Being a hitman tied them into a nice little bow. One problem however, Alister didn't do anonymity. If he didn't get credit what was the point? There was only one form of immortality in this world. And it was carving your name so damn deeply into the stones of human history that it would never erode away. And that was just what he planned to do.

Though he would prefer to not die of boredom In the meantime!

After nearly an hour more he heard the telltale sound of a bullhead drawing near. Off of it strode a company of ten white fang operatives along with a very professional looking woman in a pantsuit. As she drew closer he smiled friendly, holding back the inferno of anger within him. "You must be the pizza girl". "Alister Ignus" the woman replied in a whispery voice "A pleasure to meet you in person"

From the way she brushed her hair behind her ear and the angling of her body, he could tell she already had a crush on him. And another one. He thought dryly. Giving her a quick once over he confirmed she was not wholly unattractive. Auburn hair, slim build, pale skin, green eyli-wait a minute….. Those are scales! Indeed what had been mistaken at first glance for green makeup was in fact a ring of scales across her eyes. Damn he sighed internally a snake girl. "I trust you have the delivery?" He asked looking at the suitcase by her feet. "Of course" she responded, switching between a flustered smile and grim determination. Opening the case she revealed vials of a pitch black liquid. "Vile" the woman said smiling "Proven to raise the duration and potency of ones aura by double it's original strength" "Any side effects?" Alister asked raising an eyebrow. The woman shrugged "some of the test subjects reported headaches, irritability, and slight nose bleeds after use. But those are rare. Also there is a slight problem with dependency…. After a few doses, one might become reliant on Vile to manifest their aura." Alister put on one of the most dazzling in his array of dazzling smiles. "A rather underwhelming list for such a powerful stimulant. Are you sure there isn't more?" "Well….." he could see her struggling with herself. She wanted to tell him but was frightened. "Come now. We wouldn't want someone getting hurt by using it. I like to know what's going into my body." The woman raised her eyebrows in alarm "No! It's not worth it for one like yourself. The active agents affect your brain negatively. The amount of melancholy and irritation you feel afterward make you a beacon for Grimm. And unless you re-inject you may not be able to fight them off!" "Interesting." Alister purred "A drug that makes you a juggernaut and a Grimm magnet all in one? Atlas will be quite interested." The faunus woman's eyes widened pulling the scales appart and revealing sickening green flesh below "Atlas" she whispered. "you set us up?" she looked so heartbroken he almost felt bad for laughing. Almost. "My dear" he raised his arms and the wind around them swirled and howled shattering windows and making some of the more hearing sensitive faunus cover their ears "does it seem like I need to empower my aura?" he asked softly. She tried reaching for something at her side. Probably a weapon. However before she could grasp it a long single edged blade had entered her gut. His katana gunblade kagekaze. "The problem having a gun this large, is that it's SO DAMN DIFFICULT to pull in a gunfight!" he pulled the trigger and the high powered round knocked the mortally wounded woman of his blade "still shoots well though" the guards had reached their guns and begun firing, however the small caliber ammunition just bounced off of his aura like so many foam darts. "My turn!" flaring his semblance he sliced them to shreds with pressurized air. By the time he had finished, the once white warehouse had been stained pink and red.

Smiling to himself, Alister pulled a listening device from his coat pocket. "Alright Schnee, come get you drugs" without waiting for confirmation he dropped the device and opened the suitcase in his own hand. The inside was lined with multicolored cards equaling about 10,000 lein. "Yes that's about right" he closed the case and began to walk away. His payment for a job well done. However on his way out he noticed a vial of this drug had been dropped and rolled away. He picked it up examining the ichor within. Double power and Grimm aggro? Alister knew a certain someone who would be very interested in this Vile substance. Dropping a 20 lein card where he had picked it up (fair was fair after all) he headed towards the bullhead which stupidly had been piloted by one of the guards who had stepped out of the vehicle. He sat in the pilots seat and rose into the air with a grin. "11 more fang to my kill count. 2 points a fang, gives me 22, meaning I now have 587 points. Beat that Decker" as the cars carrying the Atlas forces approached the warehouse he flew into the horizon. It was time to go see his cousin in Vale.

Decker Lykkos

Decker knelt on a boulder overlooking the Valian countryside. Behind him on the overhang were the splotches of shadow that symbolized dead Grimm. Okay he thought sharpening the blade of his black sword Damocles little beowulfs count as half a point. Big ones and ursae are a full 1. Nevermore, griffons, fang agents, and reporters count as 2. Most other Grimm counted as three unless it was more than 5 meters in which case it counts as 5. A low rumbling echoed across the serine valley as a 12 meter tall mammoth of a Grimm came stalking out from behind a distant hollow. And thathe thought with a smile is worth 10!

Decker and Alister had started the kill count during their first year at Atlas. He and the rest of his team had been 15 at the time. Part of Atlas' early recruitment project for specialists. Even as kids however the group's combined strength, energy, over powered semblances , and angst had proven a problem

Any minor disagreement ended with major property damage and no real Victor. Therefore as a way to settle disputes and heal wounded prides; he and Alister who had been the two most prideful of their team had made the game up. It recycled each year with whoever was winning that year being able to claim bragging rights. So far he was at 569. However this hunting trip he had been hired to undertake was yielding expectedly high results.

Lesser Grimm always followed in a Goliath's wake. Drawn by their power. That's what made them so tricky to hunt. Sure they were big and strong. But they were slow and without any tricks that some smaller Grimm had. P0They were just big, reasonably intelligent, elephants. But their hangers on made it hard to get to them. One needed to clear a path of destruction. Taking down the outlying Grimm without alerting the beast which might stampede, or worse….run away.

Decker had been working for two days to whittle the thing's company down. Now as it entered the plains he could see that only ten Grimm were in its wake. Six death stalkers, two king taijitsu, and a couple nevermore circling over head. The honor guard…

Standing, he observed his weapon. A two foot blade connected to an oversized block-like guard which contained a gun barrel and a dust mortar. Connected was a handle that at over a foot and a half long seemed to throw the balance off. He had spent months making this weapon to his exact specifications. Even altering it when he had lost his left arm so that it could handle the shock of the extra force his prosthetic could put out. This was expected. After all, Lykkos industries his family business had been pumping out arms and armor for the militaries since before the first Schnee swung his pickaxe. Hell, they had made the damn pickaxe! Now he was a roving hunter on bad terms with Ironwood and only slightly better with his own team. His mother, brothers rest her soul, would be proud.

He leapt into the woods, using the sun to keep his direction. Heading straight for the Grimm. Ten on one would seem suicidal for most hunters. Because it was. However if there was one thing he had learned long ago, it was that it didn't matter how badly you were outnumbered. If you came at them hard and fast enough, anything with a sense of fight or flight would only worry about itself. He reached over tapping a hidden button on his fake left arm and fiddles struck forth a furious tempo as the radio he had installed came to life. As he burst into the clearing the closest of the deathstalkers turned toward him. Without slowing he began to pepper them with shots, the rounds having little effect on their chitinous hides save for annoying the living piss out of them. Blowing past they scuttled after him as he closed into the main body of the force. The Goliath sensing the pounding of his aura infused legs turned and trumpeted. At their masters call all six death stalkers encircled him raising their oversized yet still venomous stingers above them. Taking the grip of his weapon in both hands Decker twisted the top portion and the blade elongated adding more segments.

The oversized grip now came in handy as it steadied the 5 foot blade of what was now a great sword. Swinging the heavy blade in a wide arc he relieved the two before him of their tales. As the new amputees writhed in pain he leapt straight upwards to avoid the strikes of the other four. Then firing a mortar volley of red dust which likewise disabled their tails. The force threw his trajectory off however and he landed painfully on his side, right next to the two prowling heads of a king taijitsu.

With a strangled cry he rolled backwards as the giant snake took a plug of earth where he had just been lying. Rolling to his feet he cursed so loudly it could be heard over the screeching of the fiddles. Sloppy. Much too sloppy. Teach me to fucking rocket jump! No matter how good you are even a slight slip up on the battlefield could mean death. The huntsmen are better, but the Grimm never end.

He observed the battlefield. Out of the six death stalkers four remained alive. The other two presumably killed by their brethren's flailing. The king taijitsu that attacked him was keeping its distance, waiting for him to make a move. The other was still slithering around the Goliath. As for the nevermore…. "Damn." One of the flying monsters was angling towards him. Beak open and talons extended. Know what? Decker thought. Fuck it. I'm going to use it. Decker extended his right hand outwards, preparing to use his semblance.

The members of team CADJ each had some pretty impressive semblances. Janus could control heat, Alister wind, and Cane could create air tight shields of energy. But Decker? His was just broken. The complete telekinetic manipulation of biological life. Pretty much if it moved of its own volition, he could make it stop. Then move different. He had his limits of course. Size, weight, and the willpower of the creature came into play. Along with his own level of concentration and intent. But most often he could simply raise his hand and throw the offending man or Grimm into a wall. He hated it. It felt funny, people always misunderstood it, and he was pretty sure it was cheating. But hell, when it was life or death, no holds barred.

He focused on the nevermore and felt a brief battle of wills as the hapless creature tried to keep control. It failed. Swiping his hand he threw the nevermore into the snake using its own momentum. By luck, the creatures razor sharp beak hit first. Driving into the snakes throat. In a blur of black, white, and red, both creatures began to dissolve. M'kay. That's done, who's next? The answer? Nobody. The wounded deathstalkers had fled into the forest. The nevermore had flown Goliath was on the run, and the other taijitsu had been trampled under its sizeable feet. The wizened Grimm knew it was being hunted now. It would run, hide, set ambushes. The thing had become twice the challenge. Decker groaned. His tired feet, heavy eyes, and torn muddied clothing weighing on him.

Reaching over to switch of his arm radio, he heard another noise. A continuous loop of Janus' bleating snore. His ringtone. Fumbling for his scroll he brought it to his ear "Sup?" "Decker Lykkos" answered the purring voice of professor Ozpin. "I would like you to visit Beacon if you have the time. And don't worry about the Goliath. You did an admirable job chasing it away" "Wait… what? H-how did you? When did you? Huh!?" "I understand you aren't beholden to Vale, but please hurry if you would. It is a time sensitive and lucrative opportunity to help the next generation of hunters. Qrow Branwyn spoke very highly of you." At the mention of his tutor Decker sobered up. "I understand. I'll be there as soon as possible." Hanging up he gazed once more in the direction the Goliath had fled. Then back at the field around him. 582...

Janus Core

Janus stood in the middle of yet another burning town. However this time it was totally not his fault. The faunus huntsman had been skulking around Vacuo for days now looking for his target. A raven haired woman with red eyes and a katana. A shitty description in truth, but when you got paid the kind of money he did, from the kind of clients he got….. well you learned not to complain too much. At first he had thought that Alister had just died his hair and started rampaging. But his friend would never do something like that. He was much to vain to dye his hair dark. Then there was the problem of who had hired him. Vacuoan councilors. As a rule Vacuoans were well informed, shifty, and had good survival instincts. They would have known if a member of team CADJ was burning down their villages. This left one explanation: whoever this was had enough power to be a threat, and enough intelligence to be anonymous. When the only description of you came from an old man who died from blood loss right after, you did good work.

As a hitman Janus could appreciate her skill. But also as a hitman, he wanted her dead. Nothing personal, just good business. Trudging into the smoldering ruins of the former mining town, Janus was struck by the symbolism behind the attack. Red dust, one of the first tools weaponized against the Grimm and still one of the most effective, had been mined here. And yet that had done nothing but stoked the fires that ended the poor miners lives.

The dust had been embedded in every nook, crevice, and crack in the town. One spark in the wrong place and… this. Lying in and around the husks of buildings, were the husks of the residents.

Women, men, adults, children, human, faunus, they all burned. In their homes or on the streets. It made no matter. Removing his wide brimmed hat to reveal a pair of ram's horns curling from his temples, Janus said a prayer.

"dear brother of light watch over these doomed souls as they pass from this world.

Take them into your loving arms and bring them peace in the hereafter.

Dear brother of darkness show pity upon these fool's souls as they come upon your realm.

For in their final moments they have seen your face. Amen"

As he opened his hazel eyes they caught the light of the fire and seemed to ignite themselves. Death was death. He held no delusions of fairness. Life was a gift, not a right. And it could be taken at a whim. But this? This was wasteful. Whomever had put this town to the torch and sword was making a statement. And he had a feeling that whether he was getting paid or not, he would want to kill her for it. Working with both Atlas and the white fang had taught him that black and white didn't exist. Everyone had a reason for doing what they did. Every villain once believed themselves a hero. But this woman was a monster. A creature of destruction. A Grimm in a mortals body.

He sighed wiping a tear from his parched cheek. Damn he thought I did it again. Through his time with his team he had learned he was a sensitive soul. A cold blooded killer yes. But still sensitive. He had no stomach for torture. And misery only brought his own to bare within him. What would Cane do? He asked himself. First he would observe the situation.

The village or what remained thereof, was quickly burning itself out. In just a couple more hours the fire would have consumed all the fuel. This would leave nothing but charred ruins and burned flesh to be picked through by scavengers. No. Any clues in the buildings or on the bodies was gone now.

Second….. uh…. Skip. He would think of it later

Third, Check for survivors.

Gazing at the lump beside him he was sure was once a kid. He put that one aside.

Fourth, look up, and down.

Buildings weren't the only place to find evidence. Strolling through the streets Janus kept his eyes to the ground scanning for anything out of place. Body…. Body…. Tiny body…. That was a dog…. Don't know what that was…. Bowl…. Gun… Grimm mask…. Ladle… wait. GRIMM MASK!? Stooping to pick up the shining white mask from the earth he turned it in his hands. Like the ones used by the fang it appeared to be made out of a porcelain like substance glazed white to resemble the beasts of destruction. However this one looked built to cover ones entire face… odd. He slid the mask into the satchel at his side. Looking a while more he found nothing but cheap scorched weapons, and cheap scorched laborers. With a sigh he turned away. Her trail was non existent, and he didn't have a time frame. He should rest and think on this for awhile. Just then a howl split the night.

Turning to look around him he remembered the second rule "look for immediate threats!" Janus was a stealth fighter. He relied on ambushes, surprise, and clean kills. He left the open confrontation to his teammates, preferring to stalk the edges of combat, delivering death from the shadows. Now the shadows were trying to repay him. 30 beowulfs, the big ones, held a loose circle around him. The smell of char and the sound of flames had filled his senses. He hadn't heard or smelled their approach. Oh fuck me! Drawing his long barreled revolver Prejudice from its holster he took stock of the situation. 30 of them. One of me. Six rounds before reloads which take at least 3 seconds.

He flared his semblance, heating the air around him to oven like temperatures. He had done this many times before. The heat made most creatures sluggish. It sapped the strength from their limbs and addled their brains. Many a time he's just knocked people unconscious this way and slit their throats. But Grimm? The buggers were damn near as heat resistant as he was. Fortunately so was his gun. Firing his first shot Janus began to spin like a mad man taking aim at the moving shadows with deadly accuracy. Six were dead. Reload. Six more. His speed was improving. As the monsters closed in he did his best to avoid their blows. Unlike his friends, his own aura had never been very good at taking abuse. It knit him up pretty quick, but it wasn't blocking the blade. That was one of the reasons he had chosen stealth.

With six more dead and a much more manageable number of 12 he reached again for his ammo belt to find…. Nothing. Son of dog faunus! I forgot to buy ammo!

Leaping back to avoid a set of oversized teeth Janus reluctantly converted his weapon into its other form…. A tomahawk. Not the best weapon for an assassin he knew. But he had grown up with his mother telling him of how early faunus warriors would use them to scalp their enemies as they slept. Sounded cool to him. The axe did have one nice little feature though. A specially made dust steel blade that could channel heat without warping. Focusing his power into the blade it glowed cherry red. Then introduced itself to a beowulf face. The world shrank. Dodge, swing, jump, swing, parry, counter, then…. Silence. He stood in a ring of pooling shadows. Breathing a sigh of relief he allowed his weapon to cool. Bringing out his scroll he checked the time 00:30. If he hurried he could be on an airship and in Menagerie just in time for the weapons shop to open. Oh…. And he had some business to take care of. The battle had cleared his mind. And while he doubted Adam Taurus would be forthcoming, there was one man that may have information on this mask. Ghira.