Four weeks before start of New year at Beacon..
Seth Loam was not having the best of days.
It had started perfectly innocent. He was finally going to break open the wreck of the old Hunter dropship, scavenge everything he could find and finally afford a one way ticket out of the dustbowl his life had been for sixteen years. The ship had been uncovered in a recent sand dune shift, and nothing Seth threw at it had broken open the hatch. Which was why he had set out with red dust explosives. Speaking of…
Seth pushed down on the electronic detonator, and the explosives he had buried beneath the sands went off, hopefully taking down a large number of his attackers. At the very least, he had a few more minutes while they decided if he he any more surprises to hit them with. He didn't, so Seth hoped they were very cautious.
It had been long walk out to the wreck from Warren in early morning heat, and it was hard work, especially when carrying high yield explosives. It had taken him at least two hours to get out to the ship, during which he had entertained himself by counting living things on the way. He had reached one when he stopped for a break and caught his reflection in his flask, dirtied by the long road he had walked. Arse end of nowhere was the best way to describe his location, which made it all the more strange that these particular bastards had found his hidden treasure.
Seth knew he was out of tricks. Soon, he would have to pick either fight or flight, and nobody would bet on his odds of winning. Seth pulled out his breathing mask, a smooth piece of metal that covered his mouth and nose, and slid it over his head. Twisting on the valve of the air tank he carried on his back, oxygen closed from it down a tube and to his mask. Seth began to dig at the sand dune he was crouching behind to avoid the many bullets being fired his way. Honestly, it may have been a little bit obvious what he was up to. It was lucky he had gone on that long with nobody else finding the ship, or questioning why he had trekked out to the same distant location every day for the past three days. Really, he shouldn't have been supprised when the jeeps had come over the horizon and converged on his position. Crawling into the shallow hole he had burrowed, Seth let the sand fall down, completely enveloping him. Mentally, he started a countdown. He had ten minutes breatheable oxygen untill he he to start holding his breath. All that was left to do was wait.
After more than a few minutes of silence, Seth could hear the crunching footsteps of more than one person approaching. He tried to focus, pick out specifics, but all he could guess was between six and nine people, at least one of which had the loud clanking of heavy weaponry. Seth, with his meagre weapon, was no match for such a large group. With the element of surprise, however, anything was possible.
Seth curled his hand around the leather grip of his weapon. He had hunted, bartered and harvested endlessly to finally build it. It was rough. It was imperfect, prime to failure. But really, having dual clawshots was an advantage for anybody. All he had to do was wait.
As soon as he felt the vibrations of a person standing over his hiding place, Seth burst out in a flurry of sand. Having the advantage of surprise, the crook didn't even see the weapon before he'd been clubbed over the head with it, knocked down cold. Seth advanced, keeping close to the half burried ship as cover. He couldn't see any of the others, but he could feel them, the sound of their boots crunching on sand alerting him long before they came into his view.
Seth reached one of the helicopter blades and climbed up it, getting on to the worn down chrome of the roof. Keeping himself low, he could still see his attackers. Five men with assault rifles of varying kinds, and one carrying what looked like an honest to god naval cannon. In a straight battle, he had no shot of succeeding. But, just like in the sand before, if the element of supprise was worked into his plan, then even tough grunts like these scavengers could be taken out. Taking aim, Seth lined up both his clawshots onto two of the men, circling around opposite sides of the ship. If the second got too much further, doubtless he would see the unconcious body of his fellow grunt in the sand. It was time to act.
Seth pulled down on the triggers for both his clawshots, and the four pronged hooked grabbers on each snapped open and fired off on chains. The central spike embedded into one of the thugs shoulder and the claws closed down on him, and the other grunt found his left arm gripped tightly in a claw. Clicking the reverse switch, Seth held down the triggers and the powerful motors rapidly pulled in his prey. They slammed into the side of the ship and let out shouts of pain. With a jerk, Seth flipped them up over top of the craft, before pulling down, slaming them both hard into the roof of the dropship. With a snap, both claws released and retracted back into their launchers.
Every man in the area had twigged where he was. Seth barely had time to duck as the loud boom of the naval cannon going off sent a streaming ball of dust infused iron straight for his head. He was exposed on the roof, but also surrounded on the ground. His only option was to level the odds once again. Seth lept from his position towards the sand, his hands held out towards the sand. Focusing, he fired his semblance.
A wave of high frequency power shot from his hands, only visible as a distortion in the air. As he hit the sand, rather than landing hard and injure himself, the sand parted under his feet, swallowing him. The mask and connected tank kept him filled with air, as he carefully angled his hands, reading the vibrations in the ground and burrowing himself through the sand like swimming through water. Looking up, he could sense a man above him on the surface. Supprise was on his side.
Sharply angling straight up, Seth shot to the surface. Bursting from the sand, he wrapped his arms around the man's throat and let himself fall backwards, once again being swallowed by the sand, pulling the man down with him. Once he had reached a decent depth, he stopped and tightened his grip on the man's throat. Altough the poor grunt tried, the sand kept him from struggling. After about a minute, he stopped. Leaving him where he was, burried six feet under, Seth shot away, already considering his next move.
With three goons left, Seth aimed his clawshots up to where he could sense one of them was standing, and fired. The combined power of both firing as well as the semblance from him meant the claws shot out of the sand and stabbed into the man's back, gripping tightly. With a grunt, Seth yanked and pulled the man about four meteres under, then left him there. About now he knew he he this one in the bag. Nobody ever saw his semblance coming, and in this land of loose sand it was even more powerful. Self assured in his victory, Seth lazily drifted through the sand.
Two very bad things happened then.
Firstly, his tank let out a high pitched beep that was to notify him his tank was nearly out of air. The second was that a stream of bullets impacted into the sand, far too close for comfort. Seth shot through the sand, trying to get away. Unfortunately, his underground travels left a noticeable trail on the surface, and the goon on said surface trailed after him, firing high powered fire bullets that melted right through the sand. Seth had to deal with this fast, and he couldn't do it underground.
With the last of his air, he shot to the far side of the dropship and burst onto the surface. Brushing himself off, Seth grabbed out his clawshots and peeked around the corner. The assault rifle man we still firing superheated shots into the ground, while the musclehead with the cannon was searching for his missing friend in the sand. It was the perfect chance, and Seth prepped his clawshots, taking aim. Sadly, the man with the cannon chose that exact moment to turn around and see him sneaking up on his last remaining comrade. Yelling in fury, he fired his cannon at Seth before he could dodge.
The thing about portable naval cannons is that, despite firing large balls of iron that can punch straight through anyone's Aura, the shots moved slower than a conventional bullet. While that was still pretty damn fast, he had perhaps half a second to react. And with his semblance, that was all Seth needed.
Firing a wave of sonic at the ball, it veered slightly to the right and slowed down. Rather than let the kinetic energy to do waste, Seth fired his clawshot into the ball. Swinging it like an Olympic hammer thrower, grunting with effort as well as severely taxing the motors on his weapon, he flung the ball in a circular trajectory towards the other thug with the assault rifle. While the ball didn't hit him like Seth wanted, the thick chain attached to it cut through his unshielded body like it was butter. Releasing the ball, Seth began to retract his claw in while simultaneously firing his other one at the cannon. It connected on the grip, wrenching it out of the thug's hand. Both clawshots retracted and his enemy weaponless, Seth knew he had the fight finished.
The cannon man, surprisingly, didn't seem worried. He just shrugged off his leather jacket, revealing a singlet proudly emblazoned with the logo to whatever gang he belonged to. Seth briefly wondered if he wore a leather jacket just so he could dramatically take it off. After all, it was hardly comfortable wearing black leather in a desert. Suddenly, the man became bathed in an eerie green glow. Seth reacted and blasted off a shot with his clawshot, but it was battered away by some invisible field. Cannon man just laughed.
"Don't even bother trying. Nothing can break my semblance, once I've got it triggered."
The man spoke in a dull growl, the one killers used. Devoid of all emotion. Seth backed away cautiously, keeping ample space between himself and his now aparently invulnerable assailant. The man drew out a small tube, which quickly expanded into being a full sized spear. All of a sudden, the fight was back on.
"You should've just run. You could have walked away with your life, but now, you have to pay"
Seth flicked the switch button on his clawshots, the motors tightened, and the closed claws pushed forward slightly. He now had a rough mele weapon. Holding them as the instructor had taught, blade sticking out between his third and fourth fingers, large handle supported back on his wrist. If he knew one thing about semblance, it was that they had a limit. He couldn't burrow through the ground all day without collapsing from exhaustion, and this man couldn't keep the sheild up forever. All Seth had to do was give him enough of a battering. Cannon man gave hisbspear a fancy twirl.
"For what it's worth; this isn't personal"
Then cannon man lept forward, the spear in his hand aimed for Seth's throat. He brought both his blades up to block, crossing them over and bringing them up under the stabbing spear, knocking it over his shoulder. The attacker decided to make do and instead bodily slammed into Seth, knocking him backwards and bareley giving him enough him time to dodge the follow up slash, hoping to disembowl him.
And so the fight continued on, the two fighters putting everything they had into it. More than once Seth was hit, his Aura flashing to reflect the otherwise mortal strike, but the glow was dimmer every hit he took. Cannon man, however, seemed just as self assured as he he been at the start, not really trying to dodge but simply laughing as every stabbing strike bounced off him, the clawshots unable to find grip and the normally lethal chains slid off him. Seth was tiring. The attacker was not.
Finally, cannon man seemed to grow bored with the fight. The only shake up had come when Seth had tried to make the sand swallow him, but even that had been avoidied, his shield giving cannon man enough friction to climb away. With a grunt, Cannon man swung his weapon at Seth. He didn't have time to dodge. The spear body smashed into his head with incredible force, knocking him down into the ground. Cannon man laughed, and stabbed down hard at seth's chest. It deflected off his aura, so he stabbed again at his head, once again to no effect. Signing, the man picked up his cannon from where it he been abandoned in the sand. Checking it was loaded, he pointed it at Seth's vulnerable, disoriented form and fired.
Really, Seth thought. It was as if he he learned nothing.
Seth, in the final moment he had left, knew what he had to do. His weapon couldn't break the shield, but he knew something that would. Firing his semblance in all dirrections, the sand split apart beneath Seth and swallowed him out of harm's way. Fighting the urge to panic, he held his breath and flew deeper into the ground. He would have to time this, carefully. Watching above, he saw the man turn to try find his trail. As soon as his back we turned, Seth shot upwards, bursting from behind and wrapping his arms and legs around cannon mans torso. Or try to, because they stopped about half and inch from his skin. Still, with the sudden weight cannon man fell backwards. Seth took a deep breath, and then let the sand take him down.
He didn't hold back, flying deeper and deeper. Past the hard sand, crunching through the sandstone, through a patch of soil and finally shattering through solid rock. Tiny shards stabbed into him, and sand was all around him, but he held his breath and held onto cannon man, who was twisting and kicking trying to get Seth off him. Finally, Seth stopped. The debris that he had drilled through came crashing into them, a mix of soil and rock and sand. Cannon man was yelling, trying to move but finding himslef unable to. Seth released him, and flicked over top and began to vibrate his way up the same tunnel he had carved. His lungs were bursting for air, but he held on and exploded from the sand, flopping over sideways ontk the ground in exhaustion. For a few minutes he lay there, basking in the afternoon (Was it afternoon? He couldn't tell) sun. He was battered an bruised, had more than a few cuts and was surrounded by either dead or unconcious bodies. And, despite all the effort, he still hadn't gotten the prize.
Sitting up, he noticed the naval cannon lying in the ground. His invincible attacker must have dropped it when he was grabbed. Picking it up, Seth admired the worksmanship it. Flowing patterns had been carved into the metal, depicting waves and ships and great beasts. He must have gotten attacked by one of the many marine gangs that roamed the coast. God knows why they had been all the way out here. Idly, Seth checked the gun over. It still had one cannonball left in it.
And Seth knew just what to do with it…
Having figured out basic firing mechanics, Seth pushed the cannon right up against the hatch of the dropship. He could try the sliding doors on the side of the ship chassis, but they would be reinforced and he only had one shot. The hatch would be his best bet. Ensuring everything was lined up, he grinned and yanked on the heavy trigger.
The kickback as enough to throw Seth back off the side of the crashed ship and onto the sand. Immediately sitting up, he saw the hatch had been blown right off it's hinges. Whooping for joy, Seth clambered up and back up to the hatch. Surely, after all this time, it would finally be worth it. Peering in, he saw that surprisingly the interior lights were still on. And the consoles were still active. In fact, if it wasn't for the fact it was crashed in a desert on its side, Seth might have assued this craft was still being liv-
"It's about time. We put out the distress call four days ago"
Seth spun in stock and accidentaly smashed his head in the top of the hatch. There were people in here? Blinking away the pain, he saw with shock that there was a man in jeans and a T shirt standing in the corner of the ship, holding themselves steady on the table so he didn't slide down the askew ship he was on.
"Wait. He's no hunter" A voice whispered from behind him.
Turning again, he noticed a pale woman who was curled up in the corner, her long grey cloak blending in perfectly with the grey chrome interior of the ship.
"Who… are you hunters? What the hell are you doing in h-here?"
The woman stood up, and Seth definitely noticed the wickedly curved scimitar strapped to her belt.
"We are, indeed, hunters. As to your second question, we have been awaiting extraction ever since our ship crashed into the desert. We were expecting other hunters. Who are you?"
Seth gupled nervously, noting that the same Hunter was eyeing him up, as if analysing him.
"I'm Seth. I found your ship about three days ago. I, uh, I thought there might be something worth scavenging in here"
The womman nodded.
"Either way, we thank you for you assistance. But I must insist you leave now. I was expecting the men who shot us down to arive yesterday, and they certinly wouldn't stop at killing a child if he got in the way"
Well. At less he he better idea of how the men had known where to find the ship. They had shot it down.
"Uh, right. About that. Can you seriously not hear anything in here?"
The man snorted.
"The thing is soundproofed better than a prostitutes bedroom. You could have the Atlas marching band outside and we wouldn't be able to tell"
Seth stepped out of the ship and indicated for them to follow. Looking out over the carnage, Seth had to smile at his work. Three men knocked unconcious, one bisected with a chain, another baddie six few under and another about to become a living fossil. He had handled it well. He heard the man let out a dull whistle.
"Damn kid. That's certinly something"
The woman shrugged.
"I thought they would send more after us, to be honest"
The male hunter laughed.
"Guess we weren't that high on the importance rating. Still, good job on what you did here. I might want to review the fight on the ships external cameras"
"Speaking of the ship, Scott, it seems to be quite burried"
The man, apparently called Scott, nodded.
"Lools like it, Onyx. Let me fix that."
Seth gasped in amazement as the man simply held out his hands and the giant ship was lifted from the gound, sand cascading off it like water. As if by magic, the craft rotated upright and gentley hovered. With a grunt, Scott manipulated the ship back down, set up the correct way. He gave a mock bow, then chuckled at Seth's shocked expression. Onyx rolled her eyes and flung open the now exposed door.
"Quit showing off. Get in"
Scott shrugged and turned to Seth.
"So, kid. Judging from the sights out here, I'm willing to bet you're not just any scavenger. But all the same, I reckon you probably want something for your trouble. So, you want a lift back, at least? I'm sure we could probably spare some Lien too"
Seth glanced around at the desert wasteland around him, and then back at Scott. The Hunter was wearing fairly casual clothing, with navy jeans and a plain white T shirt. However, as Seth looked closer, he could just make out the contour of body armour underneath, and there was some kind of hard plating under the jeans. He had no visible weapon, but Seth was willing to bet it was inside the plain duffel bag he had slung over his shoulder. Scott was trying to look as neutral as possible. If you ran into him in the street, you wouldn't think he was a Hunter. All the same, Seth could tell the man was a strong fighter by the way he held himself, a confident slouch that knew it could take on anything that came his way.
"Well, I dunno. Don't think I'll be welcome in the town anymore, not after being caught up in this buissnes"
Scott shrugged.
"Alright, then. Got any family, relatives, anywhere else?"
The best Seth knew was of a distant aunt who sometimes had visited when he was younger, and smelled of cheap alcohol.
"There's nobody else. This ship was going to buy me a ticket outta' this dump"
"… Where were you going to go?"
Seth had spent many late night's thinking about it, searching through books and asking travelers for advice, and had come to a decision long ago.
"Vale. I'd go to Vale"
"It's not all it's cracked up to be. Not a lot of oppertunites for a Mistral wastelander with no education or skills"
Onyx came back out of the ship and turned to Scott.
"But there are oppertunites for brilliant fighters, are there not?"
She held up her scroll, which was playing low quality footage of Seth's fight with the Marine gang. Scott watched silently, and the footage eventually ended.
"He could go for the fighters scholarship. Get a student visa"
"No, Onyx. He wouldn't survive at beacon"
"You managed. If that's possible, anything is"
Scott grumbled under his breath.
"… fine"
He turned back to Seth.
"Look, here's a deal: We take you back to Vale in our ship. We can put in a word for you, get you a shot at the Fighter's scholarship for Beacon. If you make it, you get a student visa to stay in Vale"
"What's the catch?"
"Well, you would have to attend beacon. And if you were to fail, it's deportation back to here, no questions, no second chances"
He started to walk back to the ship.
"We also have to leave right now. No going back for your stuff"
Seth nodded. There wasn't anything left for him here anyway. Onyx nodded back to him.
"From what I've seen, you stand a very good chance of being able pass. Come, it is a long flight, and we must get started"
Seth stepped into the ship, and after a few minutes it lifted off into a newer life.
After two days of flying, along with two stops for refueling, having long since left the sand of Mistral behind, Seth was cruising over the green of Vale fields. Grass that he knew of had always been brown , in lumpy tussocks. A wide open feild of vibrant emerald green was a new sight, as was the river that twisted its way through the field. Water had been a scared resource at the outpost he had survived in for most of his life, while here in Vale it literally flowed through the ground.
"Seth! We'll be at the city in six minutes. Try to be at least a little presentable"
Seth nodded back to Scott. Presentable. Back in the desert, functionality had taken priority over any kind of stylistic effect. Here in Beacon, wandering around in a mix of patches and rags apparently wouldn't do, especially when he had to convince some official to let him into the country. He shrugged off his long, ragged duster that had kept him hidden in the sand for many years. Underneath, he was wearing a sepia long sleeve shirt, which he hoped would be 'presentable' enough. There was nothing to be done for his trousers, however, which the sand had worn down to a dull grey from their actual black, and had a multitude of rips, tears and stitches. He took his clawshots out from where he usualy stored them in the inside pockets of his duster and slipped them into two of the larger compartments in his pants.
After a few more minutes the ship had come over a large city, with spires that reached higher than any in Mistral had. Skyscrapers, Seth remembered. He had through the travellr had just had too much to drink, but they were real. The ship swooped between them, defending towards a large flat building with many lending pads, some of which were filled. A crackle over the radio told Onyx to land on pad 14, which she did with little difficulty. As the rotors stopped spinning, Scott stood from where he had been sitting at the central table.
"Right. Proffesor Ozpin, Headmaster of Beacon, is going to meet us just out here. Stay quiet until I introduce you, and then… I don't know, make your best case to him"
Sure enough, just out of the window was a man in a green suit with circular glasses and a cup of something he was sipping occasionally. The rotors finally stopped spinning, and Scott swung the door open, stepping out into the landing pad.
The first thing that hit him was the sound. Cars, trains, pedestrians, other ships. It was a far cry from the gentle him of activity that Warren had been. As Seth walked out onto the pad, it overwhelmed him slightly, and he missed the first few sentences of conversation. Onyx gave him a nudge and he snappd back to reality.
"And I presume this is the young kan you described in your report?"
Scott nodded.
"Yes. Took out an entire gang of Mariners, and has a particularly effective semblance. Onyx decided he could try for the Fighter's Scholarship"
Ozpin turned his eyes onto Seth, and he felt once again like he was being analysed. Hopefully the professor didn't judge on just outward appearance.
"Seth Loam, correct? I have reviewed the footage from your fight, and there is no doubt you would be a valuable addition to the school. But I must ask- what is your reason for becoming a hunter, a life constantly frought with danger and hardship?"
Onyx and Scott had breifed him on the 'correct' answer to the question. But under the penetrating glare of Ozpin, Seth felt almost compelled to answer honestly
"I want to have a better life. Anything's better than being back at the warren"
Behind him, he saw Onyx hang her head and sigh, while Scott simply facepalmed. Palin nodded.
"Not every hunter has a purely altruistic motive. It still gives you motivation to fight, although I hope you will develop other reasons for being a hunter other than a warm meal and roof over your head"
He nodded to Onyx and Scott.
"Present your findings in a report, please. And take care of Mr Loam here for a few days. The Fighter's Scholarship is on the 17th. Good day".
The man nodded to the hunters and the walked away, disappearing into one of the many doors that led off the roof. Scott let out a sigh of relief.
"That went well enough, I guess"
He turned to Seth.
"I've got an apartment here in Vale. You're welcome to stay for as long as you need to"
Seth nodded. Onyx began to walk towards the same door Ozpin had gone through.
"Well, at least he wasn't put off too much by your appearance. If you are to attend, you are going to need some more clothes"
She looked him over.
"I'm thinking a shower wouldn't go amiss either"
"Yeah, and add to that a haircut! Looks like a damn wasps nest"
"My hair is fine"
"For the desert, mabye. Glynda would be on you in seconds if you walked in with that!"
"As if you can talk. I do recall the week you spent in detention for dying your hair blue"
"Good times…"
As he walked alongside Onyx and Scott, Seth Loam realised this was the start of a brand new day. He had no doubt in his kind that he could manage the fighter's scholarship. Reading and Writing, well, he knew some basics. How hard could it be?
Today was a good day…