Thanks for all the support guys, it's really helped to see that people are both reading and enjoying my work. So now, it's time to introduce some new characters to the mix.

as always, have a pleasant read.

Two months later...

Professor Ozpin walked towards the apartment block with something approaching worry. This potential huntsman would be a difficult case, even for him. Glynda was, as always a step behind him, omnipresent scroll in hand.

"Are you sure about this professor? The poor boy has gone through an awful lot lately, perhaps it would be better to wait a while before we talk to him."

"I am sure, if we leave it any longer he won't be of any use to anyone. despite what he has gone through, I believe we can help him."

Glynda made a disparaging noise.

"Now, Now Glynda, we need to approach this with the right attitude."

He pressed walked through the doors to the apartment building. The interior was pleasant, but slightly cold, clinical. Down the hall were a series of doors, clearly leading to the individual apartments. Glynda consulted her scroll and gestured down one of the halls. The two teachers walked quickly to the appropriate apartment.

Ozpin knocked on the door. However the door creaked open as he did so. He cast a glance at glynda then forged on inwards.

"Hello? Who's there?" The voice was strange, raspy and dry.

Ozpin called out a greeting.

"Come in, I'm in the main room."

The aforementioned room turned out to be almost totally dark, with only a single lamp casting illumination across a small coffee table, laden with empty mugs, books, plates and other various clutter. The rest of the room also seemed extremely messy, junk seeming to adorn every surface.

At the centre, arrayed around the coffee table were four armchairs. One was occupied, the figure seeming to blend into the background. He gestured the two teachers to sit, and Ozpin carefully lowered himself into an armchair directly opposite the figure. Glynda checked her seat first, then followed suit.

Ozpin cleared his throat, and leaned forwards, elbows on knees.

The figure spoke again.

"Sorry for the mess, unfortunately a haven't had much time or energy to clean, I'm still recovering."

Ozpin nodded. "Think nothing of it, I hardly travelled all this way to critique your living space, after all."

The figure chuckled. "With respect professor Ozpin, why are you here?"

Ozpin paused a moment. "Myself and professor goodwitch have come here today to follow up on your invitation to beacon, mr Corvus."

Vasren sighed and struggled upright. "Indeed, I thought you might have. Unfortunately I don't really see a way I can attend, not with the injuries I sustained."

Professor Ozpin nodded, unsurprised.

"That's a great shame, but what if I told you I had a friend who could, give back your missing arm and leg. What would you say then?"

Vasren leaned forwards, resting his single remaining arm on his only knee.

"Where do I meet this fellow?"

Two years later...

Electra fidgeted. Not out of nervousness, nor even from boredom, but simply because it gave her hands something to do. Tall, blank faced warehouses stood on either side of her, cast stark by the moonlight. She walked swiftly towards the docks, ignoring the oppressive darkness that seemed to cloak her. The moon bleached the landscape of all color, rendering the warehouses and crates around the dock in stark white and inscrutable black.

Electra's boots made a Rhythmic thud as the heavy footwear impacted the pavement. She veritably bounced along, not even phased by the ominous surroundings.

She paused suddenly, head cocked to one side and listening intently.

She laughed. "Alright guys, you can all come out now".

A group of shadowy figures emerged from among the scattered cargo containers. Electra grinned. This was going to be fun. The first figure stepped forwards. He was huge, six and a half feet tall at least, and seemingly just as broad. He carried a large, dangerous looking shotgun in his hands. Behind him another six figures were arrayed, carrying an assortment of crude weapons and firearms. The leader swaggered forwards, shotgun not even aimed at her.

"Alright, miss. We'll be taking your money about now." He cranked the pump of his shotgun for emphasis.

Electra had to crane her neck upwards to look him in the eyes. He had a deep scar bisecting hi nose, and wore a cocky, confident look. Why shouldn't he? He was a great hulking brute facing down a five foot tall girl, while backed up by six of his buddies. Electra almost felt sorry for him. This was going to be such an embarrassment.

She laughed suddenly, throwing her head back and shaking uncontrollably. The leader took a step back, suddenly nervous. Electra gasped for air and shook her head.

"You? Rob me? Do you have any idea how bad of an idea that is?"

The leader snarled and grabbed her throat. Electra smiled and activated her semblance.

She felt it all in a rush. Like a tingling that moved from her toes and up through her legs and across her chest to her fingertips. The thief suddenly narrowed his eyes. Electra discharged a massive bolt of electricity from her neck into his hand. His eyes widened and he jerked about like a fish on a line, muscles spamming uncontrollably. His goons charged her, damaged swords and clubs upraised. Electra gently removed the hand from her throat and reached behind her. She quickly found what she was looking for and slipped her hands into a pair of silver gauntlets. The first thug reached her and swung a rusty sword at her. She whipped her hands out and forwards, her bracer deflecting the strike. She pulsed electricity through into the sword, causing the thief to reel back in pain. She effortlessly dodged the next thug's club and clasped her hands on his arm, electrifying him. She leapt away as he fell to the ground twitching and dribbling. She flashed the remaining five thugs a savage smile. The first three charged her, clubs, axes and swords raised overhead. She whipped her hand to the side, unspooling five, thin wires from her fingertips. She slashed them across the first assailant, knocking him out instantly with a devastating bolt of close ranged lightning from the wires. The second swung down towards her head, only to hit the concrete pavement as she swayed sideways. She landed a flurry of rapid strikes to his side, making him collapse. The last barged straight into her. She smiled. The thug fell like a sack of bricks as hundreds of thousands of volts spread across his torso, paralyzing the muscles in his chest and back. The last two leveled pistols at her and opened fire. She spun between their arcs of fire, unspooling her wires as she did so. Quickly their poor accuracy and high rate of fire left them without bullets.

Perfect.

She rolled forwards, cracking her wires like a whip and latching them onto their guns. They too spasmed and collapsed as she sent electricity arcing across them. The last thugs toppled over as if their bones had been removed. Electra then dusted off her jacket and straightened her skirt. She flashed a mocking smile at the prone leader and walked off, a jaunty spring in her step.

She brushed a hand through her black, messy hair, tucking a stray, blue lock behind her ear. Almost to the docks, and from there, a whole new adventure. Almost to beacon.

Vasren shifted uncomfortably, it had been two years now since his injuries, and his arm and leg still pained him. The crowds weren't helping either. He hated crowds. They were hot, and noisy and uncomfortable and always wanted to talk to him. He pulled his hat more firmly down over his head, and straightened his black long-coat. The docks were a fairly typical example of such places. Several tall jetties formed neat slots for airships to land, and provided access to the flying behemoths.

Behind him milled the exited masses of the beacon freshman. A wonderful assortment of colorful characters and exotic weapons. People from all walks of life were gathered here. Fresh faced young warriors with shiny new weapons and polished combat gear. Some wore battered and scratched gear, and archaic weapons. He was somewhere in the middle. His combat gear was new. The coat reached his mid calf and was sewn full of removable ceramic plates. His sword was a modern design, but had seen plenty of use. He on the other hand, was about as battered as they get. He smirked at the thought.

He turned around to scan the assembled students. He shook his head ruefully. Some habits were hard to break. The assemblage was a deluge of color, each student dressed in their own unique combat gear. Everything from full suits of plate armor, leather gear cut for mobility, and even relatively commonplace clothing.

Their weapons were, if anything, even more diverse. Swords and other bladed weapons seemed most commonplace, though he also saw plenty of axes, mauls, and even some strange weapons, like whips, bayoneted sniper rifles and gauntlets with various claws and spikes. The one place he fit in, was with a bunch of other misfits.

He breathed in, filling his lungs through his nose, the frigid air carrying a complex mixture of scents. The chalky, almost saplike scent of dust. The oil on his combat gear. The sharp smell of metal. Ozone?

"Hands to yourself, bastard."

Vasren opened his eyes and whipped his head around. The sight that met his eyes brought a smile to his lips. A tall, slender young man with brown hair was writhing in the grip of an unlikely assailant. A short girl, perhaps five feet. with jaw length, messy black hair with blue streaks through it. She wore a short black and blue combat skirt, black leggings, a black and blue jacket over a black shirt. She had one hand clamped firmly around the throat of the unfortunate boy, lightning arcing across the poor fellow's armor. He gasped in pain, barely able to stay balanced on his knees, muscles contracting uncontrollably.

"What, can't speak? Perhaps you should just squirm then, like the pathetic little worm you are."

He choked out a sound of protest, something between a cough and a choke.

"Am I hurting you? Maybe that's because you thought you'd try for a grab, just 'cause I'm shorter than you. Well guess what buddy, you picked on the wrong girl."

She viciously pushed him backwards, smirking as she did so.

The boy sat up, one hand on his throat. He shot her a glare. The girl didn't seem phased however. She leaned down, her face inches from him and glared right back. He scrambled back and walked quickly to the other end of the dock.

Vasren chuckled, watching the unfortunate fellow nurse his wounded pride by the railing.

"Something funny?"

Vasren turned. The girl was standing square on to him, hands on hips and face a thundercloud. Vasren smiled. "Indeed, I was rather enjoying the show"

"Care for a repeat viewing?" She raised her hand, a little energy dancing at her fingertips.

Vasren laughed again and extended his hand.

"My name is Vasren, nice to meet you."

The girl seemed taken aback. "What?"

"Your supposed to shake it"

"I know that, idiot"

She dissipated the electricity and shook his proffered hand. She still seemed confused though. Strange.

"I'm Electra, strange to meet you."

Vasren cocked his head. "Electra huh, that's an unusual name."

"Coming from a guy named Vasren?"

"Fair play"

Electra smiled. That was a good sign. She stepped next to him, and looked towards the approaching airship. A relatively sleek, four finned design.

"Excited for beacon?" Vasren asked.

Electra smirked and cracked her knuckles. "You bet, it's gonna be the best thing that ever happened to me."

Vasren nodded, eyes thoughtful.

"What's with the face? Worried?"

Vasren shook himself slightly. "No, it's just..." He rubbed his forehead with one gloved hand. "It's just I really hate flying"

Electra laughed at him. "What? The big, scary Vasren is afraid of heights? Gimme a break."

Vasren sighed and straightened his coat. "I don't mind heights, it's just the airship I don't like".

Electra was still laughing. "Whatever, it's still funny."

Vasren bowed his head and walked onto the now docked airship.

"Yeah... Funny"

Beacon was a rather impressive building. It loomed imposingly in the distance, it's tall spires and sweeping arches dominating the skyline. Vasren leaned against the window of the airship uncomfortably, nausea bubbling in the pit of his stomach. He closed his eyes and sucked in a long breath, releasing it with a protracted hiss. Stomach calmed somewhat, he opened his eyes slowly.

"BOO"

Vasren stepped backwards involuntarily, tripping on the heel of his other boot and toppling backwards.

"Electra!"

The culprit grinned victoriously.

"Oh man you should have seen your face, that was priceless."

Vasren clambered back to his feet, disgruntled.

"Don't ever do that again"

Electra just grinned.

Vasren dusted off his coat and freed testament from its sheath, where it had been trapped behind him.

"That your weapon?"

Vasren looked at her and smiled. He swung testament in a quick swirling pattern.

"Indeed, this is testament. A double bladed sword with a heavy cannon between the aforementioned blades."

Electra looked almost disappointed. "What, is that it?"

Vasren looked at her, affronted.

"What do you mean 'is that it?' This sword has been with me for three years now, don't mock it."

Electra rolled her eyes. "So it doesn't transform? Or have a hidden function?"

"Well... No, not really"

"What about a cupholder?"

"What? Why would it have...? You know what, sod it, I don't even care anymore"

Electra put her hands on her hips, threw back her head and laughed, a great, raucous guffaw. Vasren just sighed and sheathed testament, feeling more than a little irritated.

"Alright, so what are your weapons then?"

Electra reached behind her and withdrew her hands, clad In a pair of silver gauntlets. Each glove was segmented, with the fingertips being almost claw like. The armor covered her entire forearm, and had a strange cylinder mounted underneath, just behind her wrist.

"Meet volts and bolts, the single most awesome weapons ever used by a person ever."

Vasren cast her a look that could have frozen a kettle full of molten lead.

"A pair of gauntlets... And you mocked my sword."

Electra whipped her hand towards him. Vasren stumbled backwards, lightning shocking him across the nose.

"Gauntlets with mounts for lightning dust cartridges, each equipped with five monofilament wires capable of conducting several hundred thousand volts each. You have my permission to faint in awe." She took a frankly silly boxing pose and blew a dramatic breath through her nose.

"Color me impressed, if it makes you feel better."

"You're even worse than I am"

Vasren sighed, utterly resigned at this point.

Thankfully they were interrupted by a broadcast from the window of the ship. An image wavered to life, a blonde woman wearing a purple cape and carrying a riding crop.

"Hello and welcome to beacon. My name is glynda goodwitch. You are among a privileged few who have been given the honor of being selected to attend this prestigious academy. Our world is experiencing an incredible time of peace, and, as future huntsmen and huntresses, it is your duty to uphold it. You have demonstrated the courage need for such a task. Now, it is our turn to provide you with the knowledge and the training to protect our world."

The image faded, to be replaced by a frankly stunning view of vale.

Vasren however turned around to sit on the bench, staring studiously at the floor.

"Not one for heights, huh?"

Vasren looked up. A tall, muscular boy with a pair of vicious sets of claws on his forearms stood there, hand proffered. Vasren shook it.

"No not really, I had a uh... Well I don't like airships."

The burly boy chuckled, his voice seemed strangely deep, almost guttural.

"Fair enough, the name is Malik by the by."

"Vasren, nice to meet you."

Electra was staring out the window, gloved hands on her hips. Malik turned and stared out the window as well.

Vasren sulked quietly for a second. He stood up abruptly and whirled about to face the window.

"Alright what's so damned interesting out there?"

The ground was rushing towards him, the airship smashed into the ground with a twisted, tortured scream. The cargo detonated thunderously and flame rushed past him to burst the front of the hull open like an egg. He was thrown forwards like a broken toy, burning dust residue coating him, lighting him up like a human candle.

"Vasren? You alright?"

Vasren blinked. He was stood stock still, sweat beading on his brow and face even paler than usual. His left arm was clamped firmly on his right shoulder and his right fist was clenched hard enough for his leather gloves to squeak.

"It's nothing, just, bad memories."

Electra made a dismissive snort and turned back to the window. Malik looked slightly concerned, but turned back to the window as well. Vasren looked back out the window, swallowing the lump in his throat.

The docks loomed below them, and beyond that, sprawled atop the cliffs, was beacon itself.

Vasren's heart beat a little faster. He was here.