CAUTION: Profanity, child alone in the woods, vague but gruesome imagery of human torture, death of civilian background characters, and...Qrow. You've been warned.
Qrow Branwen would openly admit that he's the bad sort. He would outright and proudly proclaim that he's the baddest bitch in all of godddamn Remnant, but at the same time, the cool, silent types were always deadlier. So he went with being cool and silent.
The ragged red cape and upturned black collar only added to his charm.
With that kind of thing going on, Qrow likes to think that despite being a huntsman, he wouldn't be led around the kingdom-side doing quests like an MMORPG. Farm 20 Grimm. Need a package delivered. Find a murderer. Oh look a treasure hunt I need someone to protect me.
No, he wasn't anyone's pack mule, and he wasn't just going to do any job any random person asks of him. He was a huntsman, not a knight, and most definitely not an officer from the Atlesian military.
But he wouldn't, for the life of him, leave a damsel in distress to her distress.
"Was there anything strange going on before they disappeared?" he asked, gruffly but not rudely. He didn't need to add to this poor woman's problems.
"Well...there was a wildfire," she sniffed.
"Wildfire?"
"The fires started three weeks back. It lasted longer than we thought it would," the female innkeeper said, her eyes puffy from crying and her hair an absolute bird's nest. "Once it stopped, we didn't think anything about it, but Jared disappeared, and then Brima followed him...maybe to try and find him. They could've just got lost, so we sent Old Man Mack in. Brima was his apprentice, ya'know? Taught her everything he knew, so he was gonna bring her back, kickin' and screamin' about how spartan his lessons are or some such. He knew the forest like the back of his hand...but it's been a week and they're still gone!"
By the end of her barely understandable explanation, she was wailing. A bar regular came over to console her.
"Well, I guess I'll go check on that forest. Might be some strong Grimm," Qrow said, not quite sure how to make her calm down. It was obvious that Old Man Mack was a retired huntsman who took someone under his wing, and the village was depending on that for good news. What a joke. Just because they were huntsmen didn't mean they were invincible. He almost wanted to snort, but that would probably make the lady even more upset. In the end, he decided to leave it to the bar regular to comfort her, and left a hefty tip for her.
Maregrove was a small village, but it was a thriving one. Known for their well-bred horses and horse races, people from kingdoms would sometimes come to the village for a little betting pool. There was a large event in Maregrove a few years back that attracted tourists like crazy, and huntsmen were sent to patrol here often. Now, only an old retired huntsman was stationed here, and it seems that whatever is plaguing this village was too much for him to handle.
Qrow didn't want to touch the subject with a ten-foot pole, but he had no doubt that those three individuals were already long gone. Three weeks was a long time to survive without food and water, being a civilian and all. For the retired huntsman and apprentice trainee, a week or two wasn't too bad because one of the most important skills to have for the huntsmen who grow up in the field was wilderness survival, but...well. He had a feeling.
Ten minutes later, Qrow arrived at the forest entrance, and stared. The trees were wet.
Not like someone poured water on it—kind of wet, but more like the very bark of the tree was a sponge and naturally soaks up water into itself—kind of wet.
Whatever kind of fire was lit, it wasn't anything natural, that's for sure. To be able to burn wet kindling meant it had to be the work of aura or some sort of semblance.
He walked through the greenery for hours before concluding that there was nothing weird about it. The way the foliage covered all sorts of light sources gave him chills, but he wouldn't mind staying the night on top of some nice mossy rocks. A river was nearby too. If anything, the forest looked like Patch's backyard, except with more leaves.
There would no doubt be some Grimm lurking around, but from what he knew, these Grimm weren't a big deal.
If he had brought some supplies, he might've even been able to camp and roast some—
Rustling.
His hand reached for his weapon, body half-crouched and coiled muscles ready to move in an instant. Wary eyes scanned the vicinity, but no matter where he looked, it was black and green. Grimm eyes, being as red and luminescent as they are, would be easy to spot...
There!
Exactly what he was looking for.
Launching himself in the direction of the red eyes—ignoring how much duller they seem in comparison to actual Grimm eyes—Qrow unsheathed his blade and slashed.
He was expecting a hiss of wispy black mist, but he wasn't expecting the spray of blood.
Or the bloodcurdling scream that came afterward.
26 couldn't believe it. He was outside of the "facility," as Dr. Dougy called it. It was like an adventure!
However, he remembered that Dr. Dougy had told him they were playing hide-and-seek. 26 was going to prove that this was a test he was going pass better than any other test he took before!
26 faintly remembered when some of the White Ones were losing things, and would search for them where they remembered using it last. That means if 26 didn't want to be found, he had to find a place no one's been before.
He'd have to find a place where no one has walked before. What an exciting thought!
He hurried through the forest, grinning happily at the loose dirt beneath his bare feet. It felt cool, soft, and overall pleasant. Occasionally, something sharp or hard would pierce his sole, but when he looked down, his feet were fine.
It was about a few minutes later—although if the sun moved halfway across the sky, was it a few minutes?—that 26 found a beautiful tree. It twisted in certain ways that no other tree did—and while there were some trees that twisted, it wasn't twisted as beautifully as this one. It's branches were low, but it grew tall and the leaves were plentiful. 26 climbed it.
Perched within a closed niche, 26 was sure that no one would find him. No one below could see him, and if they can't see him, they can't find him!
26 found it to be perfectly good logic. Truly.
But wait, if no one could find him, did that mean he was lost?
Shucks.
But Dr. Dougy would find him, right? Dr. Dougy was smart. He wouldn't let 26 be lost!
With that comforting thought in mind, he drifted off...
It burned.
It burned and stung and scorched—
He woke up, rolled, fell—
Snap! CRUNCH!
His legs ached but he ran, he screamed—
It hurt, so, so much—
He ran, and ran, and ran but the orange blaze was faster, roaring and chasing and consuming everything green—
And then all he was given was blinding, blinding pain.
Something melted onto his face
He rolled on the ground.
Where was the dark, soft, dirt below his feet?
Why was it blistering...?!
Where was Dr. Dougy? Did the fires burn out yet? Could he go back now? Was the test over?
He didn't care if he did good or not he just wanted the pain to stop.
The White Ones never hurt him like this.
Dr. Dougy never hurt him like this...
But 26...knew...these were Dr. Dougy's flames.
It hurt.
His vision blurred.
His hands were pitch black.
Fingers twitched.
The tips dissolved into ash.
Hungry.
He was so, so hungry.
Truly.
Food wouldn't be enough.
White Ones (the scientists) fed him food, but it never filled him up like aura did.
He needed aura.
There was none around.
The ground was charred black...just like him.
Every patch of black hurt...
His feet hurt the most.
But he walked.
He walked away from the black.
Then he saw something other than black.
Something other than red and orange.
The ground had little sparks of green. (Grass.)
He couldn't use his hands because they were gone but he touched the aura and ate it.
The trees had wisps of white. (Bark.)
He leaned his bare back against it, and with contact he ate that aura too.
Something blue flew by. (Bird.)
He grabbed the color and ate that too.
A wary purple approached him. (Human.)
.
.
.
He took that and ate it too.
Sometimes a Black One (Grimm, a voice whispered. Brothers. Sisters. So hungryhungryHUnGRy...) would try to take the aura he gathered for himself.
He snarled at them, and they backed off.
Sometimes, he watched them fight each other, wrestling for dominance, but they never did with him.
Sometimes, they would sit by his side, and their eyes would meet.
26 noted they're the same color as his own eyes.
Red.
So red.
He felt a little better.
He was still hungry, but he could eat grass and leaves without feeling too horrible.
He was confused though.
Where's Dr. Dougy?
A pretty lady came close to him and cooed at him.
"You're absolutely filthy. How about you come with me to the river nearby and I'll clean you up?"
He agreed. He did feel a little gross compared to the state he was in back in the facility.
"My name's Brima. What's your name?"
His throat was so dry...he didn't think he could speak. The lady didn't seem to mind though.
"Well, I'm certain it's a pleasure to meet you."
The woman was so gentle with him.
"I'm looking for my neighbor, Jared. That's why I came into this forest. He disappeared a while ago."
A human in the forest.
"He had brown hair, tanned skin, and purple eyes. A shy kid, really. He came here a week ago looking for his lost dog, Gumbee," she continued to speak.
Her voice was soothing.
It was...nice.
Did she say that someone had purple eyes? Did she like purple?
He liked purple too. He ate it when he was too hungry, and then he felt better.
Purple was a nice color.
"Brima, get-get away from that...THING," a wrinkly person shouted at the nice woman.
26 hid behind her legs.
"But Mack, he's harmless! Just a kid!" the woman argued.
"That thing's been eatin' at your aura for the past WEEK. You're absolutely gaunt, Brima!" the man growled back.
"You're just a paranoid old man," the woman huffed, crossing her arms. 26 perked up at the word aura. He wondered what the word "gaunt" meant though.
"I'm giving you a fair warning, Brima, let go of the...kid, or I'll force 'im off of ya," the wrinkly person said, moving that stick in his arms threateningly.
26 wondered what that stick did. Some of the White Ones used to call in Blue Ones, who had those sticks. They made giant 'bang bang' sounds.
"Mack, don't joke about that. If you know the way to the village, we can all go back together. The kid needs some help anyway, his clothes are absolute rags," the woman insisted, while managing to sound as if she was talking about the weather.
"For Oum's sake Brima that's no KID!" the wrinkly person threw his hands up in annoyance. "His skin is BLACK. His eyes are RED! For all we know he might be some sort of new Grimm!"
"Oh jeez, I thought I washed all that dirt off your face. I guess I didn't do a good job huh?"
"For the love of—"
BANG!
26 stared down at his hands.
They weren't black anymore, but they were red.
So, so red.
He remembered that Dr. Dougy used something wet to wash the red all away when he squeezed that stress ball too hard. He had red too, but the red on his hands right now wasn't his. If he went to the river to wash the red, maybe he'll see his hands again.
What are skin colors called?
What did that woman—Brima, say about her friend? Tanned skin?
So is tan a color?
He missed that nice woman.
She protected him from the wrinkly person, and the red spilled out.
With her gone, the wrinkly person started chasing him. When 26 crossed the river though, the old wrinkly person fell in. He didn't come back up.
26 thought he should probably go back to the river to wash.
He remembered what the woman did, so he can do it by himself now.
There was another human that was approaching the forest.
26 felt wary.
So far, not a lot of human interaction with him was friendly.
Was this man going to be like the nice lady or the wrinkly person?
Mr. Dougy was nice and he wasn't wrinkly.
The nice lady wasn't wrinkly either...
And this man wasn't wrinkly either.
Maybe this man would be nice too.
Before 26 could react, the man rushed at him—
He screamed.
A/N: Qrow no. Qrow no. Bad Qrow.
Also, I'm tired of writing in a way that develops 26's knowledge of the world. The ping pong perspective might end next chapter...