The Outsider:

People hate what they don't understand. Even with the ever-present threat of the Grimm hanging overhead the people of Remnant will never shirk their distaste for eachother. It was with this in mind that Jaune Arc had been hidden away, locked in an old, abandoned castle in the middle of nowhere Vale. Being born different and vilified, Jaune finally must break free of his stone prison and forge his way to a new life.

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In the forested town of Sleepy Hallow, you can ask any of the residents what they fear most and they will tell you the truth. It is not the Grimm, no they have walls and militia to defend themselves. Then, what of bandits? No, the bandits avoid this accursed place like the plague. Then, perhaps it is a rogue huntsman or maybe some kind of natural barrier? No, none of these things keeps the people tucked away inside their homes.

Instead, the folks speak of a monstrous amalgam of man and beast. Of a creature, a monster, so foul that it has taken on a human visage in order to entice the small children to come near it. That it speaks in the most vile tongue imaginable, and that just hearing it utter words can drive a man to insanity. The beast can emit poisonous fog that decays the flesh off your bones. This abhorrent abomination has teeth like knives and claws like swords, its hide is impenetrable and it is as cunning as any seasoned huntsman worth their salt.

"I hear it can grow to seven feet tall!" says the farmer's wife.

"I've heard that it once split a huntsman in two!" the new militiaman whispers.

"I've heard that it was a blasphemous creation by the younger brother as a joke!" hisses the local pastor.

Whatever the case, whatever the stories and the accounts, the people of Sleepy Hallow all agree on one thing: they are scared of The Beast of Castle Ludwick. But I, I am not so afraid of this wretched creature. I alone have slayed a thousand Goliath with nothing more than a salted mackerel and my own left boot. My colleagues can snicker and roll their eyes behind my back all they want, I have never lost a fight to man nor beast.

For I, am the legendary huntsman: Peter Van Port!

"Hey man, you've told me this like a hundred times." a nasally and slightly drunk voice sighed. "I get it, yer gonna kill some monster or whatever."

"Did you not hear my tale?!" he whispered, aghast. "That there is a soulless beast possessing a human form to abduct children?"

"Oh gods, yes I heard you old man. Now shut up." Fernando let his head hit the tavern's scratched up tabletop. "Personally, I think it is an utter load of bullshit. I' been travelling this route for 30 years and lemme tell you that that bunch of hog wash has only been around for about 17 years. Immortal human-like Grimm my ass."

"You young folk, always so quick to cast aside doubts." he sighed, shaking his head. "Why in my day, we-"

"I'm 49 years old Pete, you're like what, 60?" Fernando grumbles. "Whatever, that's a bunch of bullshit and you're wasting your time."

"Hmmph, perhaps to you but I intend to save the people of Sleepy Hallow." Peter Port harrumphed impudently.

"Good luck, we gotta set sail in a few hours." Fernando rolled his eyes. "Castle Ludwick is only about 15 more miles from here."

"Wonderful, I can finally put this wretched business behind me." the white-haired man leaned back. "I hope that this beast will leave a fetching corpse. One that won't dissolve."

5 hours later...

"There she is old man, your quarry." Fernando mumbled, pointing a wrinkled finger at a ruined mess of stone that might've been a castle. "Good luck, don't die or whatever."

"Tch, I have no need for luck lad." Professor Port nodded resolutely. "When you see me again I will regale you with this battle."

"Gods, I hope you die then." Fernando walked off with the rest of the caravan and they faded into the distance.

Finally alone, Peter Port charged straight into the lair of this unsightly beast, clearing away what were no-doubt lackey Grimm along the way. By the time he made it to the decrepit courtyard, Port was suitably energized for his fight. He slammed a black boot onto the old brick, sending a shockwave that perilously rattled the stone walls around him.

"Grimm! I have come to challenge you!" Professor Port shouted thunderously, the reverb giving more of a shake than the stomp beforehand.

The aged professor waited for a moment, expecting to hear some maniacal laugh or maybe like some villainous slow clapping. Instead, there was nothing but a bleak silence from around the entire castle grounds. Could he have gotten it wrong? No, this was the only Castle Ludwick anywhere in Vale and he was sure that this was the place, he even wrote it down to make sure.

"Hmm, perhaps I should shout louder." Peter mused to himself before his eye caught the glimpse of something.

Overhead, a waning tower of stone sat high above the castle grounds below. At the very top lay a single dusty window, and the white-haired professor could have sworn that he spied a quick shadow overcoming the glass.

"Well, if he won't come down here I will go to my quarry!" Peter frowned before leaping forward with a spectacular jump. "Prepare yourself evildoer!"

The pudgy professor slammed straight into the ancient brick and mortar, smashing a hole through it like old newspaper. Inside lay a once-pristine red carpet leading upwards and downwards along the tower. Withdrawing his blunderaxe, the seasoned veteran ran up the flight of stairs towards the top where his opponent lay, no doubt sitting in a revolving chair and stroking some kind of cat-grimm.

Arriving at the top of the tower, the heroic huntsman prepared a good one-liner before kicking down the door with explosive force. Inside revealed the dastardly lair of the beast, complete with a bed, and a desk, and even a bookshelf well-stocked with reading material!

Wait...

"Ugh..." Peter Port blinked to himself, perhaps he did have the wrong castle.

A small clatter brought his attention back to the present and with a skilled finesse brought the muzzle of his blunderbuss towards the noise. However, instead of the worthy Grimm he had expected to face, a small figure was huddled in the corner, shivering like a leaf in the wind and whimpering. Once again, Peter Port blinked before slowly lowering the muzzle of his gun.

"Ugh... Evildoer? Are we gonna fight?" that seemed to catch the huddled figures attention, though not in the way Peter might've expected.

"FIGHT?! N-No, please! I-I-I won't get in your way! Take what you want, j-just please don't hurt me!" the creature shrieked in an ungodly fear, hands covering its face.

It sounds like... a kid... Port thought to himself, slowly lowering himself to ground, gun still within reach.

"Ok, don't worry I'm not going to hurt you. I, ugh, I can help you, can you tell me your name, son?" Port asked gently, he had never been the best with little kids but he needed to try his best here.

"M-My name?" the huddled figure stuttered. "I-I don't- I mean I'm not quite... sure...? Jaune maybe?"

"Y-You're not sure?" Port asked in disbelief. "Didn't your parents ever tell you your name?"

"Well, I mean, m-maybe? I-I don't know, they left me here when I was kid." the small frame had stopped shivering somewhat and instead, a single eye poked out from the mass of rags.

"They left you?" a searing rage boiled in Port's gut, but he choked it down and took a knee. "Well, don't worry I'm here to help. Tell me, do you know anything about The Beast of Sleepy Hallow?"

And with that, the shivering returned and the boy's voice quivered. "W-W-Well I mean, yes? Maybe? I guess so, I mean..."

"What can you tell me?" Port asked slowly, tensing slightly as the figured shifted onto its knees.

"I-I'm The Beast of Sleepy Hallow." the boy, Jaune, slowly lifted his head to show off his face.

Port forced himself to remain calm, to an unobservant person this kid would've clearly looked like a Grimm. His skin was so pale it bordered on porcelain, and beneath it a webbing of thick, dark veins danced across his neck and face. The boy's eyes were a dull red, similar to that of Qrow Branwen's but more... sickly in appearance. His feathery hair was an extremely light blonde and the skin around his eyes was sunken in and dark.

To anyone else, he would have most certainly looked like a Grimm alright. But, now the villager's observations made much more sense than before. If this kid was some outcast, then he might've been around 17, around the same time of reports of a "human grimm" began coming through. There were subtle differences when compared to the Grimm, for instance, this kid's veins weren't black but simply much darker in comparison to his skin.

"Your skin...?" Port trailed off, frowning in concentration.

"Y-Yeah, I-I don't know it's some kinda rare form of albinism I think. From what I've read I-I think it must be similar." the kid shuffled nervously, avoiding the older man's gaze.

"So then, why were you terrorizing the town?"

"I wasn't!" Jaune cried only to stifle himself a moment later. "I-I mean, not intentionally."

"Can you elaborate on that son?" Port asked, raising his palms in a calming motion.

"W-Well, awhile ago I had gotten tired of just scrounging out here so I decided to head into town to maybe find a friend. A-And I saw these kids playing near the woods and then one of them tripped, so I got out my bandages that I had 'cause I thought it'd be a perfect time to introduce myself." Jaune swallowed, eyes tracing the floor. "A-And it was going good at first, b-but then one of them pulled back my hood and..."

"And what, son?"

"H-He screamed bloody murder. He started wailing about me being a monster a-and I just wanted to explain b-b-but they j-just ran away and I-" the kid had begun to hyperventilate, eyes looking upward as he seemed to choke on nothing.

"Ok, ok. It's ok now lad, you're safe." Port tried to soothe the distressed boy. "Just look at me son, look at me."

Slowly, almost reluctantly, the albino boy did so, locking eyes with the professor. In a moment, the panic attack began to subside and the young man began to breathe a little bit easier, though a stark white hand still clutched at his chest.

"A-Anyways, sorry, the kid started crying and then the others came."

"The others?"

"The villagers I mean, they started freaking and one of them... attacked me." the young man's eyes sank back to the floor.

"Attacked? Do you need medical attention?" Port asked, looking over for any signs of heavy damage.

"N-No, it kinda happened awhile ago. But anyways, he got me good and I had to run back to this castle. I... I heard the Grimm swarm the town by the time I was leaving, a side effect of me getting them worked up." Jaune nearly whispered the last part.

It was at the moment, Port had an epiphany. The stories, the legends, they all made sense now.

"He tried to abduct our children!"

"He brought a swarm of Grimm to this very town."

"One of our own bravely wounded him and he had to retreat to his lair, where he lays plotting his next attack."

"...Son... I'm, sorry." Peter said, not entirely sure was could be said. "Look, I'm from this place, an academy, called Beacon. Maybe, I could take you back there, away from these people."

Jaune seemed hesitant. "I...I don't know, I'm no good with people. They look at me and..."

"Beacon is... different, lad. We needn't introduce you to the whole school, but perhaps you could do some secretarial work for the headmaster. Lord knows the man needs the help." Port joked with a chuckled, a small crack of a smile on Jaune's lips.

"Will it be safe?" Jaune asked with a touch of childlike naivety.

"Aye, the staff'll love you, and the accommodations will be so much better than here." Port's bushy eyebrows crinkled into a smile. "You have my word as a hero of mankind!"

Something flickered in Jaune's eyes, brief, but for instant it might've been some long-lost emotion. Either way, the young albino found himself stagger to his feet and facing the older man eye-to-eye.

"O-Ok, I guess. Not much for me to do here, I-I've read all the books here." the young man smiled sheepishly, drawing himself into his layers.

Port nodded, helping the boy out of the dreary stone tower, after allowing him to pack some things, and the two left the courtyard. Jaune paid one last glance to the old castle where he grew up, time worn and old as it was, before following the aged huntsman back to civilization.

The walk between the two was uneventful, Port slaying one or two beowolves along the way, and with a small scroll call a bullhead was soon descending upon their location. Jaune marveled at the flying machine, he had read books and manuals on them but seeing it in person was something of an experience. Port huffed, amused at his charge's awe of such a simple thing, before the bay doors opened to reveal a green-haired man in safari gear.

"Peter! How good of you to call us in, have you slayed the beast yet?" the man exclaimed proudly, sipping from his thermos.

Port felt Jaune hide behind him somewhat and sighed. "No Oobleck, in fact, there isn't a beast to begin with. Just a case of misunderstanding to be perfectly honest."

Oobleck's eyebrows raised, taking notice of the huddled figure behind his old colleague. "I see, and what kind of case would that be old friend?"

Port turned his head and whispered some words of encouragement, with it Jaune slowly lowered his hood to reveal his face. There was a slight pause, Oobleck's face an unreadable mask before his features morphed into geniality.

"Well then! Nothing to be done, come along then Peter we must return home!" Doctor Oobleck turned to enter back into the ship, his voice echoing once more. "Oh! And young man, we can't wait to have you at Beacon!"

Jaune stared at Port incredulously, the older man shrugging his shoulders with a grandfatherly smile. "An eccentric man no doubt, but one that I have come to call a good friend. Now, off we go!"

The ride back was... tumultuous to say the least. Turns out, the young Jaune had an intense case of motion sickness and was actively trying to keep what little food was in his stomach where it should be. Of course, it may have not been helpful to have Oobleck showering the young man with questions for almost the entire time. Port attempted to iron out a forehead wrinkle as he asked his old partner to stop asking questions for the 13th time.

"Ok ok. But just one more-"

"No Bart, we'll wait until we get to Beacon. Until then, let the boy rest." Oobleck pouted like a scorned child, the bullhead rocking as Jaune tried to hold down his food.

Luckily, it was a dark night in Vale and no student of Beacon thought it good to go on a midnight stroll. Smuggling the young albino in had been a breeze, and Port had thanked the gods for that small miracle. As much as he enjoyed teaching the next generation, he knew his students to be more than headstrong when it came to battling Grimm.

"Well," Professor Peach murmured, a small device checking the young man's ears. "no real illnesses that require treatment. That wound of his has healed rather fine and isn't in danger of infection, but I'd like to take some blood tests to make sure."

"And his condition?" asked Professor Goodwitch, both she and Ozpin being called down to meet with the new student. "Do we know what it is?"

Peach sighed, shooting a glance at the withdrawn boy next to her. "No, but I'd say it is most likely a rare strain of albinism."

"Rare enough that it has never been recorded?" Ozpin asked, even in all his years he had never heard of something like. Well, outside of Salem of course.

Peach shrugged. "Well, when you look like a humanoid Grimm I imagine most people stab first and ask questions later."

A shiver ran up the boy's spine and Goodwitch rubbed her temples. "Port, why did you bring him here again?"

"Well, what was I supposed to do?" he asked indignantly. "I couldn't just leave him there to waste away."

"Yes, from what Peter told me this young man might not have lasted much longer." Oobleck agreed, sipping a mug of Beacon's finest. "I'd imagine, given his condition, his location, and the local townsfolk, the boy might've not seen the end of the year."

Another shiver up the boy's spine, Peach hissed at both of them to choose their words more carefully. The five Beacon staff members huddled in the room, the young man tapping a white finger against the bench he sat upon.

"So then, what are we to do with him?" Professor Goodwitch asked, looking to the others in the room. "If we can't just turn him loose, and he has no real family what is our next course of action?"

There was a long pause, Ozpin and Port exchanging glances for awhile before Ozpin cleared his throat. He started to speak but choked on his words when Goodwitch's expectant gaze fell upon him. Port and Oobleck shuffled nervously, Glynda's hand already reaching for the bridge of her nose as Headmaster Ozpin began to speak.

"...Well, I could use some extra help with the paperwork and whatnot."