I'm not even going to lie, I think I may have confused someone last chapter, what with Winter's reaction to Aaron's sob story. So let me clarify, I hold the opinion that Winter does, indeed, have a heart, no matter how cold it is, that just got colder over the years.
No matter how much I wish I did, I don't work for RT and, therefore, don't own RWBY. Since I did model a character after DC's Nightwing, I don't own or work for DC Comics.
Rise of the Archangel
Episode 003: Beginning of Classes
(Aaron Sharp, 1st person)
It was around 10:42 at night when we went to bed. I'd set up an area for Winter to change near the corner of her bed earlier that day. I was totally out as soon as my head hit the pillow; didn't mean I wouldn't have nightmares, though.
Somewhere around midnight, I awoke from the strangest dream: my mother came to Atlas, took me out, beat me bloody, and returned my life to the Hell it used to be. I was breathing extremely heavy, sweat dripping off my forehead, and sitting up in bed. My covers were strewn everywhere, pillow in front of my nightstand.
"What's going on," Winter mumbled, clearly annoyed. "Are you dying or something?"
"Just a nightmare," I semi-whimpered.
"Well, it was all in your head. Either way, your Aura lit up the whole room, probably woke up the entire floor."
"Ugh, sorry. Pretty bad nightmare, been getting to me for damn near a year."
"Just go back to bed," she groaned, audibly shifting her covers. I followed her orders, praying that I never have to see that nightmare come to life.
(Next morning)
I woke up bright and early to Winter closing the curtain to the makeshift changing room. The air was denser than it was last night, so I assumed that my roommate had just gotten out of the shower. Remembering today's schedule, I tossed my blanket to the side and started putting on some proper clothing.
"Aren't you going to shower yourself," Winter demanded, hearing me shuffling around. I looked down and examined my pajamas—a plain white t-shirt and a pair of athletic boxer-briefs—and decided there was nothing wrong with my normal under layers.
"I took one last night," I argued, pulling on a pair of blue jeans. I stopped when a strange thought hit me like a hammer. "Don't we have a school uniform?"
"You mean you didn't get one?" I swore like a sailor on savage seas.
"Didn't know there were any. What's the closest I can get for now?"
"Mostly white and light gray, formal military attire. Gray combat boots, too, if I remember correctly." Again I swore, realizing how multi-chromatic I am compared to that.
"Dad's old flight suit it is then," I supposed. I dug around in the numerous compartments to the old leather bag, searching for the hidden zipper where I always kept the old F-12 coveralls and jacket. The coveralls were black with silver highlights and red knee pads; the jacket matched this combo, with red shoulder and elbow pads and silver stripes connecting the four. Inside the jacket and coverall legs were small magnets, a safety function to regulate blood pressure mid-flight and prevent the wearer from blacking out. I'd taken off the First Lieutenant insignia, keeping it in a case with a photo of its owner and a Purple Heart medal that he'd won at the price of his life.
After dusting the outards and innards of the uniform, I slipped it on. Winter left her dressing area just as I was pulling on the jacket itself. If it weren't for her self-restraint and bloodline, I'm pretty sure her jaw would've dropped. She looked stunning as she did the first day, just a little more formal, though the mostly monochrome uniform was seriously grating my eyes. As stunning as she looked, I refused to show my emotions, knowing full and well that she'd either exploit them or grouch about it.
"Close enough," I questioned, zipping up the jacket. She nodded.
"I would still take care, though," she added. I nodded as I tucked the coveralls into my black combat boots. "After all, it's not like the rest of you follows the current code."
"What? How the Hell not?"
"Your face is unshaven, your hair is all over the place, and you look as though you got in a fistfight with an Ursa cub a week ago."
"Beowolf pup, actually." I could sense her surprise even as I strolled out of our dorm. "Ursa cubs are slower than their parents. Beowolf pups, on the other hand, are little devils on drugs. They may not have sharp claws or fangs, but boy are they fast little suckers. Dang thing wouldn't hold still; I couldn't even run without tripping on it."
"And you didn't bother to use your weapons."
"Damn thing stole 'em; that's the whole reason I wrestled with it."
She was stunned silent. I chuckled to myself.
"Don't believe me?"
"Let's just get to class already," she responded with her usual cranky attitude. "Military Strategies, 8:30. It's currently—."
"I know, I know," I grouched, completely annoyed with her know-it-all point of view. "I have a watch, y'know."
"Don't give me that—."
"Shut your trap already. You're popular, I'm experienced. Let's just keep it at that, okay? Good, thank you."
(9:45 AM)
Military Strategies was boring. The professor did nothing but tell us old stories about how he managed to take on an entire legion of Grimm on his own, leaving me rolling my eyes and resting the whole class. He let us out at around 9:40, which allowed me time to go to my next class: Hand-to-Hand Combat Training. Having trained in 3 different martial arts, I assumed this class was going to either really suck or be really easy. Sure enough, it was going to be rather fun; one of my old instructors was the professor for this class.
"Up an' at-'em, class," he shouted. "On your feet, move it. You want to be Huntsmen or soldiers, you gotta be ready at all times."
The class rose, albeit with some extreme grumbling.
"Good," the professor spoke, silencing the room with his loud voice. "I am Wallace Churchill, your instructor for this class; however, you may and will call me 'Sir'. Is that clear?"
"Yes sir," I shouted crisply, voice echoing through the room. Churchill's eyes locked on my position.
"Mister Sharp," he said, surprised. "Never expected you to be here. There's your example, boys and girls. Follow his lead, and you'll probably survive this class. Now, let me repeat myself: AM I CLEAR?!"
The entire classroom burst forth with a caucus of noise. I could barely hear myself think. Acting on instinct and annoyance, I pulled out Pecador, the louder of my pistols, and fired off three rounds to the ceiling; the class went silent instantly.
"Thank you, Dagger. Now, let's see… who here thinks they can hold their own against one of my former students?" Of course, Winter's hand shot up. "WS-402 Delta. Schnee, Winter. Good to see, good to see. Anyone else?" No other hands rose. "Okay then. Schnee it is."
Wallace pulled out his Scroll and did something; two images popped up on the screen at the back of the room: mine and Winter's. Oh, joy.
(One minute later)
I had on my casual combat clothes, Justicia on my back and the twins holstered on my hips. Winter stood opposite me, ready with her single blade. I had no idea what her Semblance was, but stayed totally ready to teach her something about me.
"Schnee, Sharp," Churchill called out. "Are you ready?"
I rested my left and right hands on Santos and Justicia respectively; she held her sword in a fencing stance.
"BEGIN!" I saw a circle with several small points materialize behind Winter, disappearing and thrusting her forward. She appeared about ready to shank me a good one, but I was far faster; using Chrono-Jutsu, a martial art allowing me to slow down my perception of time and speed up my metabolism and muscular activity accordingly, I did just that. Just like a matador, I sidestepped her charge, drawing Justicia and swatting her mid-back with the flat of the blade. Time sped back up as she stumbled forward. I smiled, now recognizing her Semblance to be Glyphs.
"Excellent, Sharp," my old teacher congratulated my efforts. "Your father taught you well."
"Chrono-Jutsu," I grinned upon noticing Schnee's confusion. "Slows down time and speeds me up."
Another glyph summoned behind my opponent, which she jumped behind and shot off… ice shards? Even quick thinking and speed couldn't save me from them, but I did have something else. Using my own electric energy, as well as summoning that from the air around me, I poured negative energy down one side of Justicia's blade and positive down the other. Electricity arced down the blade as the Dust activated, making the cavalry sword glow a pale yellow.
"Electrokineseis," another comment from Wallace. "You have been learning, haven't you? I don't remember teaching you that."
"Actually," I responded as I began overcharging the Dust, "Its more activating Dust without Aura. Regardless, it's still a useful tactic."
At the peak of its electric charge, I used a hint of my own Aura as I slashed sideways at the ice shards and glyphs; the electric shockwave that followed was tremendous, awesome even. The ice evaporated, the glyphs dissipated like smoke, and Winter had barely any time to get out of the way. Unbeknownst to me, another glyph appeared behind me, this time with a giant arm coming out of it like a spirit. I had no time to react before I was beat into the floor in every sense of the term. I felt like I'd just gotten pummeled with a train, though I sensed that my Aura just got cut in half.
'Okay then,' I thought, 'On to Plan B, in that case.'
My body started glowing blue as my Semblance activated. My Aura went into overcharge mode as it was multiplied damn-near infinitely. Justicia, which was knocked out of my hands, zipped back to my right hand, sparking like it was touching seventy powerlines simultaneously and glowing as bright as the Sun itself. I could hear some 'Holy Shit's in the student body.
"You have Glyphs," I shouted over the arcing electricity. "My Semblance is Overcharge—allows me to recharge and amplify my Aura to impossible limits; hundreds of times more powerful than any Glyph you could ever summon."
"Wanna bet," she dared, but before either of us could do a damn thing we heard metal breaking, as well as a thundering roar. An Ursa Emperor, ten times bigger than an Ursa Major, had just broken out of its cage. And it was hungry for breakfast.
"On second thought," I trailed off, formulating a plan in my mind, "Can your Glyphs amplify Aura blasts?"
"I have no idea," she responded as the massive Grimm stomped into the classroom. "Though I suppose it's not too late to find out."
"DO IT," I shouted, aiming Justicia's blade at the beast. Several small Glyphs formed out of thin air around and in front of my blade, all leading up to the beast's head. Summoning all my Aura in and out of my Semblance, I compressed everything I had into Justicia and let it rip.
A white beam with hints of blue and yellow burst out of Justicia, amplified by Winter's Glyphs, and tore through the Ursa Emperor. The damned creature was vaporized on the spot.
I let out a huge breath, tuckered out, as did Winter. My Aura was totally drained outside of a small amount still in me. I looked up at our images on the screens behind us and noticed that both our Auras were in the red.
"Unprecedented," Churchill muttered. "Excellent teamwork, you two. Foolish as it was to take on a Creature of Grimm on your own, you did better than I did against one of those things. Give them a round of applause."
END
A/N: Okay, I know I confused some people there; I'm still going over it myself. I think I may go back at a late date and change it, depending on how well it's received. Regardless, now you know what Aaron's Semblance is, as well as two of his martial arts. I won't try to hide the third one, it's basically just mixed martial arts. Chrono-Jutsu isn't a real martial art, though there are people out there with chronokineseis, the ability to slow down their perception of time and even time itself. As for electrokineseis and activating Dust with it, I see Dust as a plasma-like energy source that can be activated with either Aura or electricity. Regardless, Aaron's electrokineseis stems from a mental martial art that moves around hormones and atomic particles themselves to manipulate his environment (also one that doesn't exist, it's just a learned telekineseis of sorts).
Fair warning: I may skip ahead a couple of years where Aaron, Mike, Leonard, and Winter are all older and in the Atlasian military (I don't know what it's called, so I'll just say that Winter is in their Navy with Mike, Aaron's in the Air Force, and Leonard's in the Army). I'm just saying this to give you a heads up, make for sure I don't confuse anyone.
That's about all I've got for now. Peace out everyone, and I'll see you all in the next chapter (or a new story from the perspective of Aaron's brother).
