The Bold and the Bounce
Chapter 1: Mold Breaker
By Gumby1011
"I don't want to live in the kind of world where we don't look out for each other. Not just the people that are close to us, but anybody who needs a helping hand. I can't change the way anybody else thinks, or what they choose to do, but I can do my bit." ― Charles de Lint
We begin our tale far from the hustle and bustle of the cities most folks live in today. Many miles inland from the Marvo Mangroves surrounding Ambrose, among acres and acres of ancient trees, a pleasant little faunus hamlet sat. Here the troubles of modern life were a distant spectre, the only real worries were over the crops and the Grimm.
Here, nearly everybody knew everybody else: there was Albus, the miner, who would dig in the nearby caves in search of coal and useful metals. His shack was across the way from Titian the guardsman's watchtower. Titian pretty much always slept there when he wasn't out patrolling for Grimm. There was also a baker, and a carpenter, and even a tailor, but our tale begins on a farm. Here, a mother named Heather Clay tended to the fields that helped keep the town fed with wheat and vegetables. Being in charge of such an important resource was a huge responsibility, and a whole lot of work. Thankfully, she did have the farmhands and her son, Oscar, to help about the place.
Heather swung her mattock into the ground as the sun beat down on the fields. After raking the tool through the soil for a few moments she took another swing, letting the tool stick up as she stood and popped her back. Then she grabbed the bandana from her pocket and wiped her brow. A hand over her eyes, she scanned the field before calling out:
"Oscar? Oscar!"
Well, at least she still had the farmhands.
Frowning as nobody answered, she twitched her kangaroo ears in irritation. Retrieving her mattock, she walked over to the farmhand towing the plow: a large man with big teeth and a profound frown, dressed almost entirely in gray. "Oi, Sully!"
As he heard his name being called, Sully let out a mopey sigh. His gray-furred mule ears drooped. Turning from the plow he'd been dragging through the soil, he looked over at Heather. "Yyyyessum?" he drawled, not looking forward to what he knew would come next.
"You seen where Oscar's got off to?" the head farmer asked, hand on her hip. Her son seemed less and less interested in helping out around the fields recently.
The gray-clad farmhand shook his head. "Nope. Haven't seen him since you sent him out for that firewood."
Heather rolled her eyes. "Oh, fer dusts' sake, that was four hours ago!... Alright, as you were." The kangaroo faunus reached into her overall's front pocket and retrieved a small scroll. She pulled it open as Sully resumed his work. "Sure hope he gets back soon, elsewise everybody else's gonna have to pick up the slack..."
The mule faunus groaned, and it wasn't from the effort of pulling the plow.
Truthfully, Oscar had meant to gather firewood when he left. But you see, as much as he liked helping with the farm, he liked exploring the woods even more. Now, the village children weren't allowed to venture outside without permission, but Oscar was eighteen. Which -naturally- meant he thought himself invincible.
He did technically have permission to be in the woods... but it had likely expired by then. He'd meant to gather the firewood, honest! He just couldn't pass up a chance to practice. The young Faunus pulled the tripwire taut before hooking the end into the base of a tree. Giving the net-snare a quick once-over, Oscar nodded in approval before covering up the contraption with nearby undergrowth. Then he rigged up one of his tiny silent alarms and hooked it to the net- the finishing touch.
Oscar grabbed his small, sturdy scroll from the pouch on his armband and opened it. He was pleased to see the little blip appear on the map. He zoomed out on the map, grinning at the numerous other blips. Then he froze, a look of horror on face as he noticed the time.
"Bleeding-" Before Oscar could even finish his curse, his scroll started ringing. A window popped up on the screen: "Incoming Call: Ma"
"Oh dear..." he muttered as he tapped the window. "Hellooo-"
The voice burst through the scroll before the boy could get another word out. "Oscar Bartholomew Clay, if you're still going after that firewood, then you better be dragging a tree back! Mind telling me exactly what's taking so long?"
Oscar shrugged before answering. "Sorry, Ma. Already got the wood, but Titian asked me for a favor-"
"Now hold on there, li'l Joe! I just finished warding off an interrogation about stuff like that!" Oscar saw another notification appear on his scroll: "Caller added: Titian."
Well, there goes that idea.
"Ma, you're over at Titian's?" Oscar asked. It wasn't like she was very fond of the man, or anything.
"Oh yeah, because I knew this useless waste of air would be my best chance of finding you!" Heather's voice sounded more than a little upset. "I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times to not be in the woods longer than you have to be!"
Oscar grinned, amused at his mother's anxiety. "Ma, thanks for watching out for me, but I'm fine. I just set some traps to help with Titian's rounds, you know how much ground he has to cover."
Titian immediately piped up. "Ooh! Did you set up any more of those rock-drop pitfalls? Those ones worked great last time!"
"Naw, mate, but I can set one or two up before I head back-"
"Absolutely not!" Heather cut in. "You've been out there far too long already! The woods are no place for children, you know that there are all types of Grimm and treacherous terrain, not to mention-"
Oscar's attention drifted as she spoke. A hand wandered to one of his vest pockets and pulled out a bit of jerky. Sure, his ma was only looking out for him, but he knew the woods like the back of his hand. For a less experienced kid she'd be right, but Oscar was aware of the danger, and knew all about how to avoid it.
Chewing on his jerky, the youth remembered to say "yes," "I understand" and "absolutely" when prompted during the lecture. Then his scroll started beeping. Oscar looked down, minimized the conversation window and pulled up the map again. Surprised to see that a dot was blinking red, the boy spoke over his mother. "I got something."
"What?" Heather asked.
"One of the rigs went off. Snare net six," Oscar replied. He had gotten a few kills before, but new victories were always welcome. Another one of the dots went red, the beeping doubling as it did so. Then two more traps went off at once. "Um, guys? something's going on out here-"
"Oscar Clay, you come home this instant!" Heather shouted, now sounding much less critical and much more scared
Titian spoke up, for once sounding serious. "I'm on my way, don't do anything stupid-"
Oscar's kangaroo ears twitched. He heard a distant crash. Looking towards the sound, he heard besital roaring followed by shots. "There's gunfire!" he said into the scroll before setting it back in his armband. He ran off towards the racket. "Whatever's goin' on, there's somebody in the thick of it! I'm gonna give 'em a hand-"
"No, no you're not!" Heather barked "You are coming HOME!"
"And leaving someone out here to die?" Oscar shot back. "Think that's what Dad would want?"
A moment of silence.
"Follow my signal," Oscar said before pressing two buttons on the scroll. One dropped the call, the other set up a locator beacon. He hesitated before hitting a third button. That would make his aura gauge visible to other scrolls.
Time to pick up the pace. Oscar was already jogging as fast as he could, but there probably wasn't a lot of time. His heavy boots were wearing out his legs: they were for stomping, not running. But he could work with that! Hopping up into the air, Oscar focused on his aura. He pictured it in his head: a glowing, blue, pliable ball. A moment of focus, and he made it shine outwards.
Translucent blue orbs of light expanded around his feet. Oscar slammed his boots on the ground. The orbs pushed back, flinging him forward as he hopped along. Soon the trees became blurred with speed as he bounded between them.
Oscar noticed snapped tree limbs, scuffed earth, signs of a struggle… all very spread out. The fight had been mobile. This mystery fighter- they were no pushover. The damage soon grew worse, and the gunfire and roaring grew louder.
He jumped over a fallen tree. Passed over a triggered pitfall. He looked up at a snare-net that hung from its tree, spinning in the breeze with a Jaegerfang limp in its grasp.
The boy looked back, surprised. The panther-like Grimm was deader than dead: half its head was blown clean off! The young Faunus looked back to his route just in time to see another, much-more-alive Jaegerfang flying at him.
"Bleedin'-" Oscar put more oomph in his next hop, and aimed his feet at the creature's open maw. His legs almost buckled as he drop-kicked the creature's chin. Then it was flung away from him by the blue orbs. The boy was shocked to see a narrow, straight blade erupted from the grimm's chest as it slammed to a halt.
The blade's wielder pushed the dead Grimm off to the side and slung the flat of his blade across his shoulders. And the first thing to strike Oscar was the hat. That comically wide-brimmed blue hat, sitting atop frizzy silver hair. The face framed by the hair was earnestly pleased to see Oscar: the silvery blue eyes appraising him shone with a manic glee, like those of a child who had found an unexpected friend.
The man in the blue hat tipped it at the new arrival before straightening his matching longcoat. Hat-man smiled before waving to the faunus, who'd landed on his back. "Well there, kiddo, I gotta say, thanks for the assist!"
A half-smile flashed across Oscar's face, a wave of relief washing over him. There hadn't been some huge event going on, after all. Just two Jaegerfang and an over-zealous wanderer defending himself. "Anytime, pal, anytime," the boy shot back as he stood up. "Although I gotta say you made a whole lot of racket for dealing with just two little blighters, friend."
"Huh?" Hat-man asked, confused. "Nope, those two were easy business, main problem is all those guys!" The man jabbed his sword upwards.
Oscar looked up to see at least a half-dozen Jaegerfangs in the forest canopy above. Their lithe forms moved among the branches as though they were part of the trees. A few of them began stalking down the tree trunks.
"Oh. Well then," the boy mumbled as he drew a boomerang from the back of his belt. Pressing two buttons on the wings, he pulled it apart into a pair of large kukris. "You see, that explains all the mess."
Hat-man grinned at the young faunus, a gleam in his eye. "Doesn't it, though?" The duo immediately went back to back. The older man held his blade at the ready as the younger man brandished his kuris. "Say, where's the closest shelter, out of curiosity?" Hat-man asked.
"Small town, about two and a half klicks north," Oscar replied. His ears swivelled to listen for any Grimm trying to make a move. "We bolt now, we might make it. But we'd be luring these things to the rest of the villagers-"
"Not how we wanna skin these cats, I take it?" Hat-man concluded.
Oscar shook his head. "Not if you don't want Ma to skin me, no."
Hat-man nodded. "Fair enough then. You good in a fight?"
The young faunus chuckled. "Sure as hell wouldn't bring down the other half the forest, if that means anything." He flashed his unexpected ally a grin.
The older man smirked. "You know what? I like your confidence, kid." Without another word the sword in his hands folded into a huge, double-barrelled pistol. "One, two! One, two!"
Oscar was nearly deafened as the hat-wearing man fired four shots, the pistol spouting gouts of mercury-blue flames from its muzzles. He barely heard something fall out of the trees over the ringing in his ears. He looked over his shoulder: A grimm, on the ground, two holes punched clean through its chest! A cry of pain from the trees, and the rest of the pack descended.
The boy reacted, ducking the first pouncing grimm. He rolled back and kicked up- his boots struck the creature's chest. The blue orbs expanded from his feet again, flinging the grimm away. The young faunus flipped back to his feet. He heard movement behind him-
"Alley Oop!" Oscar leapt up in the air.
A Jaegerfang had pounced from behind, but it sailed between Oscar's legs. Barely. He swung his blades downwards.
Sni-GNK!
The boy felt them cleave through fur and meat before catching at the bone. The Grimm fell, its hind legs useless and bloodied. Oscar was pulled along by the corpse's momentum: His knives were stuck in place! Hitting the ground, he pressed a foot on the beast and yanked his kukris free.
Oscar looked around as he grimm he'd kicked away was returning for another round. It had a friend beside him: a big one, at least a nine-footer. Bad idea to try and take them both on. The boy looked for any other options: There! Hat-man! He could call for help- No!
On the hatted man's flank: another grimm! He hadn't seen it yet! Oscar didn't have time to think.
He shouted: "Oi! Topper! On your left!" and combined his knives into their boomerang form. He threw it and the arms separated, the blades a lethal edge in the middle. The boomerang flew out and sliced a big branch branch off of a tree that fell down on Hat-man's attacker, pinning it.
Oscar heard a laugh from that direction and grinned. For about two seconds. Then he remembered he still had two grimm bearing down on him. The boy grinned at them defiantly, wiping some sweat from his brow. Blue bubbles appeared around his fists and feet. He took up a boxing stance. "Awright, then! Let's go!"
The two Jaegerfang sprinted at Oscar. The smaller one lunged first. There was a gunshot. The beast was swatted down by- a wad of fur and leaves? There was a crunch of breaking bones. The youth didn't have time to question: the larger monster followed instantly.
Oscar managed to intercept: he uppercut the blighter straight on the chin. The beast was flung back, landing on hind quarters before slamming down on its back. It scrambled back up, ready for round two. This was bad: the boy could feel his aura running low.
Fwif-fwif-fwif-fwif-
He grinned when he heard it returning. Up high, a little to the left. He could work with that. Oscar leapt up at the noise and reached out. His hands closed around his boomerang, and pulled it apart again. The youth gave his foe no time to react, and turned his landing into a lunge. Oscar crossed his blades. They flashed past each other and bit into the grimm's throat.
A moment later, Oscar was behind the grimm. Its severed head fell to the ground just before its body slumped to follow it.
Oscar didn't let himself relax. He looked over at where the smaller grimm had gone down. It'd been pinned under the Grimm that had tried to ambush Hat-Man, along with the branch that had struck it! It wasn't moving: most likely killed by the impact. The boy looked over towards Hat-Man. "Oi, Topper! Thanks for the-... well shite!"
Hat-man was leaning on his sword like it was a cane, facing away from Oscar. He kicked a severed Jaegerfang head onto a pile of feline bodies: There must've been at least half a dozen kills stacked in front of him! He grinned back at Oscar and let out a short, barking laugh. "Callay, boy! What a fight, e-"
Before he could finish, the smaller monster lurched out from under its fellow and the branch. It leapt up at Oscar from behind. Hat-Man almost got out a warning, but something struck the beast before he could. The monster fell to the ground with a pained roar, but only received three more shots for its effort.
"Crikey!" Oscar shouted, flinching. Then he saw the bolts sticking out of the beat's side, and sighed with relief. "Yeah. What a fight," he muttered with an apprehensive half-grin. The save was welcome, but the next part would not be fun. His ears pressed flat to his head as he heard the voice shout out from behind him.
About seven yards away, none other than Heather Clay stomped out of the brush. Twigs, burrs and mud stains covered her outfit. Apparently she'd charged through the entire forest to get to her son. By the looks of it, the forest lost. She strode out, a scowl and a few tears on her face. The crossbow in her hands quickly reconfigured into her mattock. She slung it across her back. "Oscar. Bartholomew. GOD-DAMNED CLAY!"
Oscar sheepishly half-smiled, backpedaling as Heather advanced on him. "Now Ma, no worries, grimm are all dead, right? We can all head ba- hmph!" He was quickly cut off as Heather grabbed hold of him and caught him in a bear hug. It felt like she was torn between wanting to honestly hug him and trying to smother the life out of him.
Heather hoisted the short lad clean off his feet. "When I tell you to come home-" She quickly took a turn towards smothering and her voice took on a sharper, growling tone. "-You best will come goddamned home!"
Hat-man finally spoke up. "Hell of a boy you've got there, ma'am. Real handy in a tight spot, may have very well saved my life, just now!"
The mother paused, before dropping Oscar and turning towards the strange man. "Is that supposed to be flattering? Am I supposed to be happy that my boy just almost got himself killed for some no-good wayfaring human? WHO the HELL are you!?" Heather was in a fury, her tone ragged with anger.
"Okay, in order: Yes, Probably not full happy, but no small amount of pride would be appropriate, and my name-" The older man doffed his cap and took a theatrical bow. "is Mercutio Maddox. And while we're talking about me, now may be a good time to mention that I happen to be headmaster of Arcadia Academy."
There was a moment of silence before Heather spoke up. "The hell's Arcadia Academy?"
It had been an uncomfortable couple of hours spent outside the farmhouse, safe and sound inside the town walls. Not only because that Maddox fellow was speaking with his ma inside, but because he had so generously sliced down an entire tree for Oscar's firewood run. So the lad had so far spent two hours chopping the huge trunk into more manageable pieces of kindling.
At the very least, he wasn't alone.
"You know…" Titian sighed as he took another swing at the tree with one of his tomahawks. "Your mother- wonderful of a lady as she can be- is the frigging devil."
Oscar just absentmindedly nodded, struggling to hear the conversation inside over the sound of his knives slicing up the lumber.
Chungk! Chungk! Chungk!
Most of the discussion inside had been eaten by the newcomer's odd tangents and odder still stories, but the main gist was something the boy was very interested in: they were talking about him. Maddox was speaking, now.
"-So how does he do the little springy-bubble things?" Oscar heard the man ask. "Dust? Aura? Something in those gloves of his?"
"No, no, that one's all him," Heather replied. "An aural semblance, to hear the town bookie tell it. We don't keep fancy gear like that around. It's hard enough getting scrolls and such out here."
"Really? He already has such a fine amount of control over his aura at that age? Surely he must have had someone help awaken it. The guardsman, perhaps?" A small sipping sound. Sully had made some tea for them. "More, please."
"Yyyyessum," the weary groan drifted out.
Titian noticed that Oscar had stopped working on the tree altogether. Turning towards the farmhouse, the guardsman's tiger ears began picking up on the conversation.
A wry laugh from Heather. "Titian wouldn't know how to awaken somebody's aura if you scribbled instructions on the back of his eyelids!"
Titian winced at the dig on his abilities.
"No, that would be Oscar's father, Dustin. Taught that son of mine everything he knows about fighting."
"Must be a great man- thank you- and a good teacher, too. I'd much like to meet him, if you'd do me the honor." More sipping.
Titian turned away. "Come on, it's not polite to eavesdrop-" the guardsman began, before Oscar hurriedly shushed him.
"Trust me, after that little stunt I have half a mind to introduce you." Heather let out a sigh. "But, I doubt he'd appreciate that."
"Oh?" More sipping. "Not the social type, I take it?"
The mother scoffed. "Not anymore, he's not. He's dead."
A beat of silence.
"I… I'm sorry to bring it up," Maddox finally said. Oscar heard him set down his teacup. "I'm certain he would have been exactly the sort I'm looking for."
"Well even if he was, not much good it would do now," Heather sighed. "Now, my turn. What the hell are you looking for, anyways? You're an awful long way from the capital, human."
An awkward pause. "That… Is a very interesting question. I'm looking to build a bridge. Which, of course, means I need a foundation. But, as you know, all foundations require staff, and patrons, and secretaries and donations, and little flashy business cards with-"
"Skip it," the mother quipped.
"A school," the hatted man didn't miss a beat. "I'm starting up a school for Hunters and Huntresses. But, specifically, we plan on being custom-tailored to teach faunus the trade. I've been busy busy busy for the better part of many years, and now we're very nearly ready to begin our program in earnest."
Oscar could hardly hear them: his own pulse was pounding in his ears now. Him? A Hunter? Sure, he was good for a scrap or two, but Hunters were a whole other level! People that could hand entire packs of grimm their own backsides on a platter and still have strength for more!
Maddox was talking about making him, a humble little farm boy into a ripped-to-shreds prime example of what a faunus could do with a blade in hand and a back to the wall!
"I see…" Heather sounded ponderous before she answered. "Nope."
"Wha-"
"He's not going," Heather reiterated simply. "He's not cut out for it."
Oscar's face fell at the verdict, a lump of disappointment forming in the pit of his stomach. Not that he disliked the village, or the farming, but he just found his fighting so fun… And it could help out, too! Still, if that's what Mom wanted… Oscar was about to take another swing at the tree.
Titian grabbed Oscar's raised hand and shushed him. "Not quite yet," the guardsman hissed.
An affronted (and melodramatic) gasp from Maddox. "Nonsense! Name three good reasons-"
"Sully," Oscar heard his mother snap her fingers twice, before the mule-faunus' droning voice spoke up:
"He's overconfident, over-idealistic, knows nothin' that's not for huntin', farmin', or trappin', easily distracted, knows nothin' of the tensions in Ambrose, never met a human in his entire life before today, has very little money, even less common sense, and zero formal schoolin' whatsoever."
"Well then…" Maddox paused for a moment. "He's exactly what I'm looking for."
A pause.
"I take it that 'integration' attempt failed?" Heather asked. She was quieter, now.
Another, more awkward pause.
"Yes… Yes it did. Miserably."
A scoff from Heather. "And you want to get my boy sucked into round two?"
"This time it's gonna work. This time we're not just going to smash two races together and hope for the best. This time, I can personally promise you, we're going to prove that faunus can be just as good as, if not better than humans. That all this hate we got flying around is unnecessary, uncalled for, and just plain stupid. By the time Arcadia's finished, there won't be a soul who doubts as to what good unification will do for the nation!" Maddox's tone grew firmer, more grandiose as he spoke, until he sounded like he was giving a speech to a huge crowd.
Oscar could hardly contain himself. Sure there were more than a few questions: the "integration" bit made absolutely zero sense to him whatsoever. But to be honest he could care less. He knew he could find a way to help out! Just imagine all the good he could do for the village with strength like that! He began chewing on the inside of his cheek as his mind raced. He could be the bane of grimm across the entire Vera Woodlands! He suddenly realized he'd lost track of the conversation. He tried to will his pulse silent as he listened in, crossing his fingers hopefully.
"You're gonna need teachers-"
"-Six, including myself-"
"-Not enough-"
"-and seven graduate mentors-"
"-graduate?"
"The top seven from our trial graduate class, yes. Oscar would be part of the first full class."
"Still pretty slim numbers."
"Do you really expect us to attract droves at first?"
"Touche. What about weapons?"
"Provided by the best smith in Ambrose."
"You're going to be drawing a lot of hate."
"The school is excellently hidden, with one concealed entrance and an equally hidden exit."
"You can't exit through the entrance?"
"Not without a sturdy pair of wings."
"And you can't enter through the exit."
"Not without a good set of gills."
"You're not helping your case. Funding."
"Ooh! That's a good one! Alright, so lookie loo at what I found in the basement..."
Oscar heard a scroll opening, then a pause.
"Not too shabby, eh?"
"...Well, I'll be damned."
"Yeah, that should keep the money woes off us for decades!" Maddox concluded. "All we need now is a few good students to teach."
Another silent beat. Titian was listening alongside Oscar now. The two of them excitedly glanced at each other. Maddox was so close to pulling through, so painfully close!
"You really think you can pull this off, don't you?" Heather asked, hesitantly.
"I wouldn't even ask if I didn't," Maddox replied.
"... Alright," Heather finally huffed.
Oscar let out a whoop of joy as the news reached his ears. He could hardly believe it! He was going to be a Hunter! He jumped up into the air, the excitement overwhelming him. Of course, cathartic as that was, it was likely not the best of ideas.
"Oscar!" Heather shouted, ducking her head out of an open window and glaring at the two. "I don't hear any wood being cut!"
The youth quickly took to the tree again, his knives chopping into the wood. "On it, Ma!"
His mother glared a few moments longer before ducking back inside. The boy hardly kept himself contained as he got back to work. Even as he split the lumber, he grinned ear to ear.
The guardsman smiled before tussling Oscar's hair. "Dustin'd be proud, kid. It'll be good to have a hunter in town, again. You go show those city-bred wannabes what a real fighter can do, eh?"
Oscar chuckled and rolled his shoulders. "Oh, you know it!" Gripping the grimm-tooth charm on his neck, he couldn't resist glancing at the crude inscription etched on it: D. Clay.
Yeah. Dad would be proud.