Extra #2: Blake Belladonna
The science world knew the Belladonna name quite well. Her mother and father, having been doctors in the field of aura studies who met by chance, were both well-published. For many the name didn't matter. But for some it was everything.
Blake found herself not fully understanding at first. She was too young to see it at the time. But as she grew older and learned about her heritage, she felt an anger bubbling within. Had the Faunus race as a whole not done enough? There were tales of heroes and kings and queens and all of the good things they had accomplished in the name of a united humanity.
But it was the crying of her parents that broke her. Sometimes, when they thought she was already asleep, tired from hunter training, one of them would cry. Sometimes it was her mother, other times it was her father, but usually it was both for their works were linked together. One's sorrow often drew out the other's.
They were few and far in between. She didn't put two and two together until a little later, when she realized that the crying tended to occur after a scientific summit or meeting. Her parents were well-respected. Scientific circles often praised what they did and based their own experiments and theories from it. But even science was burdened with its old traditions, and sometimes they got in the way.
One night, after her mother had gone to bed early, Blake moved through their house and found her father staring into an empty fireplace and she asked the question. "Father, why do you cry?" He played it off at first, but eventually she broke down the barrier and he talked. The summit he had spoken at had laid out the thesis and experiment to be carried out, and yet they rejected the findings.
"I'm not young anymore. Stop hiding from me," she angrily said. "You've done nothing wrong, and there's no reason for you to be crying like that."
He closed his eyes and breathed long and slow. Her ears stood straight upon her head, waiting for his answer. "I cry because it acknowledges who I am."
"But you spent a whole year on that project! It's rude! You followed every little-"
"Blake." He said her name with a heavy sigh, as if he still thought she was too young to understand. But she bit back her retort and quieted down, straining her ears to hear him. "I don't cry because I question my worth as a person. I've never done that before. I followed the steps, I put in the time and energy, and I made sure that nothing was out of order. I cry because it is they who do not see me as such."
Blake wanted to scream, to yell at him for his answer at the time. But despite what it seemed to carry, his back only straightened. It pushed him to his full impressive height, even if he was seated, and that was the end. She had asked why he cried, he had given it. It was her problem that she was dissatisfied by his answer.
She wanted him to say it was unfair, that he was struggling to break out of that lower status like the Faunus heroes in history and in her books. But instead he had said he was already equal on a technical level - it was the others who were trying to lower him. She hated his response.
The hunter academy also knew her last name. It was inevitable - she needed to give it if she wanted to have any chance at becoming a huntress. This meant that the world she was a part, if the average hunter ever put any time into reading books, knew where she came from. It didn't take long for her Faunus status to come out in the social spheres she was in.
And just like how it was for her parents, for most it didn't matter and for some it was everything.
Blake tried to ignore those some. But whenever she set foot out into the town, a black bow rested over her ears hiding who she really was. And while it kept the stares off her head and the uncommon sneer away from her, it made her teeth clench.
One day she wore it to class. She promised herself it was just this once. Then just one more time. Then she swore herself off of it, but no matter how hard she tried to step away she wanted it because otherwise she remembered that she wasn't worthy yet.
Her partner, Yang, gave her hell and back for it all the time.
"They already know who you are, and guess what - you wipe the floor with them in class!" the blond nearly spat. "You've proven you're bigger and badder! They should conform to you, not the other way around! They're not going to care about your achievements, and frankly I don't think you should care about what they think."
Until one day Blake finally said something about it.
"It's not about who's the better hunter. Who is better doesn't matter when I'm not the same as them. They'll always view me differently. And besides, I don't even have a summon yet."
"... And what would a summon mean to you?"
"It means that I'm one of them, and they can't deny it anymore."
Yang was rearing to continue the fight, but she relented in the end. Since then she hadn't said a word about her ribbon and she wore it day in and day out. It was a victory she didn't want, not even worthy of the term pyrrhic. But it was a comfort, and at the time that was what mattered.
But all it ever did was make her angrier. If she thought about it, Yang was right. There was a time where those who mocked her didn't have a summon, when they were trainees as well. And when she finally got a summon, that didn't change anything because they already had one. She would just be going through the phases expected of a hunter.
So when it was time, her heart pounding in her throat and all four of her ears, with light gathering at her front in the summoning hall, eyes closed and listening, she felt her rage boil to her top again. This was the moment she was waiting for. Here was where she would become a huntress. Here was where her mockers would face the light.
Blake hoped the summon would be big, gigantic even. She hoped it's worth a damn to prove all of the other people wrong, that she could match the prowess of a human. But as the light swirled more and more, she realized that it had stopped growing in size. The summoning had paused, and shortly afterward the light began to unravel itself. It was not a common occurrence, but neither was it unusual. In fact, it was something witnessed in perhaps forty percent of the summoning rituals with an equal occurrence across all intersectionalities.
Yet for it to happen to her now was horrifying. This was her proving moment. Yang was watching from the sides. She couldn't lose now, not when she put so much weight into this. She tried to breath, to slow herself down. But then came the voices. They were little snickers playing in the back of her head. Words calling out to her to say lines and sentences she would never dare to repeat.
Blake began to panic.
"Faunus filth."
"You'll never be one of us."
An image of bruised and defeated student wiping blood from his lips, of her putting away her sword.
"Hide behind your bow then. I know what you are."
All this time, Blake wanted to be accepted as a human. She wanted to be able to walk down the streets and be free of the errant gaze or stare. But her two damned ears atop her head meant she could never truly be one.
Her body and breath trembled. Lips quivered before gritting her teeth in anger. Heat stung at her eyes before streaking down her cheeks.
But despite the realization, despite the pain it brought her, only one word echoed in the silence that was now her mind.
No.
It would not end here, and her eyes fell shut. Slowly, her arms pulled out Gambol Shroud from her back, holding it in front of her and pulling out the blade. In her best, slowest, calmest breaths possible, Blake's body began to bend and turn, going through slow forms and stances and disciplines. Hardly useful for combat, but it was taught in the academy to calm and discipline the mind. Gradually she went through more advanced twists and turns, the movements drilled into her body.
Once the last step came to an end, she felt her body snap and flicker. Moving faster and faster through her own personal variations this time, she let go of the blade and used only the ribbon to control its swings and arcs. Despite her eyes being closed, she knew where it was at all times, knew just how to pull it so that no bullets fired. And she moved until her limbs burned, her rage fueling her movements until each pull and tug was followed by a roar from her lips.
This was hers, something that she had earned because she was always physically capable of doing so and drove herself to achieve it. Anyone could learn to do the basics, and with enough training anyone could do what she had done. Anyone.
She was already a hunter.
With one final tug of her ribbon, the blade arced upward and flew neatly into its sheath and she slung it across her back. Now breathing heavily, tears lost amongst sweat, she realized what her father was trying to tell her, what Yang was trying to tell her. With a steady hand, she reached for her bow and pulled, the cloth becoming undone and falling to her feet.
She didn't feel the need to be a human anymore.
Whoosh
Her heart picked up once again. Turning her head to her side and looking past the dying light, a hulking black bull faced her, red eyes staring back. But in its mouth was the handle of a sheathed sword, elegant and beautiful.
Her rage would always be there, just like the coiled muscles of the beast before her, ready to lash out. Yet her presence of mind was refined like blade in its jaws. There would always be someone who thought less of her. There would always be those who oppressed Faunus rights. But she no longer needed their approval. She didn't need to try and reach and be them, for she already stood tall in her own light.
Before she was a hunter, she was a Faunus. But before she was a Faunus she was Blake Belladonna, and no one could take that away from her. Not even herself.
Beta'd by ImSoAwesome
