On the outskirts of a small city, a young girl strolled along happily. She was adorned in a short plaid kilt with brown mud boots over green striped stockings. Her long curly red hair hung over petite shoulders where her long sleeved shirt did not cover, instead lazily hanging down. Her freckled face adorned an ear to ear smile, a twinkle in her green eyes.
Gaetana Wilson Clark Scott, a pure-blooded irish-scottish descendant form the Wilson Clark Scott family. She was one of the most cherished children from her family, due to the fact she was the only one to have succeeded with an education. She had attended Sanna Korset Academy at the age of twelve, excelling in all her classes but focusing in one area in particular. Grimm combat.
Ever since she had defeated a high level monster that had somehow made its way onto school grounds, schools from all over the world had been keeping an eye on her. Though one in particular had made an offer she just could not refuse.
Professor Ozpin had personally given her an invitation to Beacon Academy at her recent graduation, which she gleefully accepted.
Gaetana was currently celebrating that moment, taking a stroll on her favorite lakeside walk. The golden light from a setting sun illuminated the water and trees around her. It formed an painter's dream.
The young prodigy walked along cheerfully humming an old gaelic tune, one of her hands resting on the string of a recurve bow that was slung over her shoulder. The bow was a family heirloom, passed down from generation to generation. Gaetana had been the first female to inherit it. It was made from the wood of an old Arran Whitebeam, a very rare and valuable tree. It had been blessed by a priest and strung with the hair from a white stag. It was really, really old and really, really valuable.
The bow had gotten Gaetana out of many sticky situations, more than she cared to remember.
The girl eventually halted on the brick path, and looked straight ahead to two people up ahead. Her mood turned sour.
"Mother. Father." she spoke with a thick scottish brogue.
"Daughter" spoke a large, older gentleman dressed in a grey formal suit. "I see you're enjoying your recent... success."
"I am. Without you."
This seemed to hit home on the old man, as he stumbled a bit. Her mother spoke up, "We're sorry honey, but business has kept us from visiting lately. Your father's been trying as hard as he can."
It was here that Gaetana's frown broke into a smile, "I know. And I appreciate it. But right now I'm busy, so if you'll excuse me..."
The girl strolled past them with a contemptuous strut. The two watched their daughter walk away, feeling betrayed.
Many miles away, a very different scene was unfolding. A young boy stood on a balcony at Beacon Academy, looking over the same setting sun.
The boy, known as Rugo, wore dirty blue jeans over worn steel toe boots. Under a flannel hoody one could see a bare chest. The hood was currently drawn back, revealing rusty-brown hair and young yet aged face. His blue eyes looked like they belonged to an old man.
Rugo was not a prodigy, or an honor student, or anything of that sort. He had gone into training against monsters at a very young age, combat having been drilled into his heart and soul. It was safe to say that if you did not know him, a conversation would be over shortly.
He had been literally bred for the fight against the Grimm, which would make school life all that much harder.
"I probably should have made you get out more." came a voice from behind.
"Not that I would have done anything. I prefer to be in the arena. Or Emerald Forest."
Professor Ozpin walked up next to the boy, setting a hand on his shoulder, "As a father, I'm forcing you to socialize. It will be good when you finally work with a team."
Rugo shrugged off the hand, "I already told you, dad, I don't like people. My existence alone is beyond classified, so why throw me in a school full of a bunch of rich brats all of a sudden?"
The headmaster sighed and sipped his coffee, "Because we need you to learn how to act around people, in social settings. In case an assignment calls for it."
"Then don't give me an assignment that calls for it."
"You know I can't promise you that."
Rugo sighed and hung his head. "Whatever. What about my cover up?"
Ozpin grinned, "You will serve as the school's janitor and groundskeeper. We will play that you are working off your scholarship."
"What about my job at the dust shop? I can't just leave the old man after that incident with the gangster and the red hood girl. His business took a big hit."
The head master gave a smile, "Don't worry, I sent him a letter of apology explaining that you had a family emergency. As well as a generous donation for his recent financial setback."
Rugo nodded, "Thanks. The guy was good to me. And I appreciate the job too."
"I know how much you like to work."
"It makes me worth something."
Ozpin frowned at this statement. His son had always been hard on himself. Ever a since a certain "incident" involving a wealthy student at Beacon yelling at one of her baggage carriers.
"Well, at least it will make a good impression on the other students. A hard working, strapping young man." The professor slapped Rugo on the back, "Maybe get a couple looks from some of the young ladies."
Rugo shot a dirty look before turning back and pouting.
Ozpin smirked then let out a small laugh. This was going to be interesting, seeing the boy be a kid for the first time in a while.
"I'm not getting along with any bratty trust fund babies though."
Ozpin sighed. There was the kicker.
"At least be nice to them. One of those "trust fund babies" might become your teammate."
Rugo mumbled a dirty comment under his breath before stomping back into his dorm room. He turned around waving his arms out in angry gestures, "Why should you even let them into this school?! All those richies, all those brats, they do nothing but leach off the ones who actually work for a living! They're sick, they're ignorant, vile, stupid, worthless- OW!" His rant was interrupted by the headmaster's cane swiftly smacking him in the back of the head.
A lecture followed soon after, "Because in this war we need all the help we can get. Even from the children of the corrupt wealth. They may not be disciplined, but they can still fight."
Rugo growled and grumbled as he stormed off, "Yeah, sure, fight..."
The boy walked out, leaving his father concerned for exactly how well this might play out.