And we're back! I hope I wasn't keeping anyone waiting on this. I'm sort of known to do that. Especially with Ben 10. Don't ask.

Before we get started, Shout out to Boah joester and Guest for the reviews. It keeps an author honest in my opinion when it comes to feedback.

And Thank You aaa649 and emmanuelhenry135 for throwing this on your alert. And Thank You Taiski and 'that one kawaii bitch' for the favorites! Means a lot.

II

Russel: Part 2

The halls of Oakwood Academy were not as glamourous as those such as Signal. There was no dress code, leaving the students to run around in whatever state of dress they desired. The school lacked more state of the art technology such as flat screens to monitor aura levels during spars.

The students, when it came time to create their weapons, were forced to use less desirable materials. The school's library desperately needed an updating. They still had a VHS section. Whatever that was.

The faculty were all Hunters, but from another time. Their glory days were all behind them. Out of shape and tired, the educators were more worried about their pension than developing the next era of Hunters.

The students were a story all of their own. Classes ran in periods of six. A break would normally follow every other class for lunch. Except for that third school day, the one in the middle of the week. In that case the classes were shortened and you were forced to attend three in one sitting and then go on break.

As Oakwood was a local campus, there were no dormitories. After the end of the school day they all just went home. As most were the children of farmers, the students would often find themselves helping their families out in the fields or tending to some homework assigned after class.

But alas, the day was still young. Sitting in the center of his class, neither close to the front nor far from the back, by no means anywhere near the door or seated by the window. At the very center of the class with his freshly shaved head, sat Russel Thrush, age fifteen.

Russel leaned back in his seat, trying his best not to take his pencil and ram it into his ears. Would his professor ever quit talking about his own personal issues and political views? Tune in next time on another exciting episode of Professor Milky's third period Geography!

"But what about the Faunus Civil Rights movement?" One of the students asked. Russel knew the girl, Marie-Anne Cherri. "Surely you have something to comment on, Professor." She feigned interest. Anything to get out of talking about Mistral's swamps.

"Well, we should get on with the lesson…" Professor Milky stroked his chin thoughtfully. "But, a couple more minutes wouldn't hurt." He shrugged.

And so he went on, talking about his opinion and why it mattered. Russel rolled his eyes. When he first came to Oakwood, all those years ago, he never imagined that this would be his life. If he had any hair on his head, Russel would surely be pulling at it. Any alternative to listening to his teacher's bullshit was acceptable.

"The Faunus are entitled to their rights, just like anyone else." Milky declared.

"Definitely." Someone in the front row agreed.

Russel wasn't an idiot. He could see their games, how they worked in tandem to keep the professor going. What the hell was he doing here again? Oh right, he was here trying to be a Hunter.

'Look at me now Dad.' Russel frowned. 'I'm a big bad Hunter just like you always wanted me to be.' He ran a hand over his hairless head. 'I'm sure you're proud.'

The bell rang, signaling the end of class. Taken by surprise after getting caught up in his improvised lecture about rights and the pursuit of happiness, Milky quickly made the effort to remind the students of some homework assignment the students had no possible way to complete.

Russel groaned loudly and then slammed his head on his desk. '….'

After a moment of internalized screaming, Russel picked himself up out of his seat and grabbed his bag. Not caring that he was carrying the pack instead of throwing the strap over his arm, Russel made his way out the door, heading for his next class.

Blood boiling and having a low tolerance for another person's bullshit, Russel put on the deepest scowl he could muster and trudged through the hallway. He pushed past groups of friends taking a brief moment to catch up.

The only silver lining today was his next class: Physical Education. As Oakwood lacked proper facilities to conduct spar matches or a shooting range for practice, they were forced to make do with a large open field and a few workout machines.

Russel arrived to the boy's locker room and got changed into his workout gear. While it was true that there was no dress code here at Oakwood, no one in their right mind would go out there and run around only for them to be stuck in sweaty clothing for the rest of the day.

Arriving a bit later than he would have liked, Russel was forced to make his way through a sea of butt naked guys just to reach his locker.

"You might want to get that looked at, Brick." Russel sad as he made it to his locker.

Russel dialed in his combination and pulled out his gear. He undressed quickly, throwing off his jeans and long hoodie and swapping them for a grey undershirt and green sleeveless hoodie as well as a pair of ripped up jeans. Russel reached in his locker and pulled out his weapon before throwing in his casual clothes and book bag for safe keeping.

Russel took a moment to study his weapon. In his time at Oakwood, he'd used their resources as well as some equipment off the farm to make it. Russel's weapon base was a simple sword, which he'd since tricked out. There were a pair of exposed gears in the hilt. A button on the handle that would cause the gears to turn and switch the weapon into its secondary mode.

Officially the weapon was called 'Darkling'. Those who knew Russel's Father thought the boy was paying tribute to his own weapon. But that couldn't be further from the truth. Russel had named it that because he knew it pissed off his dad. If his Father ever did show his resentment, he could always play that tribute argument. The confusion that the naming caused was most excellent. If his Father asked about 'Darkling', his 'Darkling'. Russel would be a smartass and present his own 'Darkling'.

Leaving the locker room, Russel couldn't help but laugh at his own actions. Sure it had gotten him hit once or twice, but the look on his Father's face whenever he created the confusion was beyond priceless.

"Hey, it's nothing to laugh at." Some guy said as Russel passed by laughing. "I'm average, trust me!" Russel shrugged and left the room.

Now waiting where the designate waiting spot for his class, Russel sat down on the field of dead grass. His 'Darkling' resting in his arms, Russel took the time to look it over, making sure it's gear mechanism was working properly.

One by one his classmates funneled out of the locker rooms and joined him at their spot. A class of thirty sat around, waiting for their teacher. It was easy enough for them to talk amongst themselves. Russel himself started a conversation with some of the regulars. Some people he could tolerate and they could tolerate him. It worked well that way if you asked him. They weren't friends, but they all knew they were stuck there together. Why not just talk, right?

"You guys see the News lately?" A kid by the name Ruddy asked.

"Oh yeah, I seen it." The girl named Burgundy nodded. "White Fang bombed a train. Some wicked stuff."

"What's this world come to?" Ruddy asked aloud.

Russel shrugged. He didn't like to talk about the White Fang. But for the most part, Russel couldn't really give a damn. He'd never met a single Faunus in his life. Oakwood seemed to have none living in the area. I guess that said a lot about their town. Big enough to have a combat school but small enough where there weren't any Faunus. If anything, that would mean he was neutral in such affairs. At least that's how he reasoned it.

"-And so we kept him going, just like that-" Russel glanced over, spotting Marie-Anne talking to another girl.

Russel shared two classes with the brown haired girl. But that wasn't the full extent of their interaction. They'd been getting thrown into classes together ever since he signed up for combat school. They knew each other. They were on first name basis. You would have to be after spending so long in the same vicinity for so long.

But that didn't mean they were friends. Marie-Anne was good with her words. Too good if you asked Russel. Take Milky for example. He's just some lazy teacher a little too disinterested in his work. You throw in Marie-Anne and you most certainly won't be getting anything done.

Marie-Anne looked over her shoulder, spotting Russel looking at her. He was half expecting her to look away disgusted. Be honest. No one wants someone staring at them. It's kind of weird. But she didn't and that surprised Russel.

She spun around fully and called out to him. "Hey Rus! What'd you think about class, huh?" She asked. "C'mon, you got to admit, its bullet proof!"

Russel assumed she referred to her actions in class. Paying no mind to how casually she called him by a nickname. Russel realized he get nothing done by being anti-social long ago, so responded, making sure to match Marie-Anne's casual attitude.

"Oh yeah. It worked like a charm." He rolled his eye. "If you don't count how we got homework anyways."

"You need to relax, Rus." Marie-Anne waved off Russel's comment. "Usually whenever we get Milky talking he just forgets about homework. Today's the only exception. I doubt if we get him rambling early tomorrow he'll even remember about the assignment."

Russel scoffed at her claims. "You're an idiot."

Marie-Anne shot Russel a cross look. She prepared to beret him for his insult, only to be interrupted by the sudden arrival of their Teacher. "Good Morning Class." The teacher greeted the students as she busied herself with taking roll. "After months of training, I think you're all ready for today's activities." The teacher cracked a prideful smile. "Today we're going to activate your Aura."

"Aura, ma'am?" Russel glanced over his shoulder to see Ruddy holding his hand up and a confused look on his face.

"Aura is a representation of our very souls." The teacher spoke very animatedly, using a sophisticated number of hand gestures ranging from hold out her hand and then closing it into a fist and waving it around. "Aura is a Hunters greatest weapon. It is what separates us from those inhuman sons a bitchin' Grimm."

"To accomplish this," The teacher stepped aside and pointed over to the empty field. "We're going to pit each and every one of you against one of the many creatures of Grimm we've managed to capture of the years."

That news received a number of gasps and shocked faces. Russel himself was caught by surprise. It raised quite a number of questions, compelling the young Thrush to raise his hand into the air, waving it for to catch the teacher's attention.

"Yes, Mr. Thrush?" The Teacher pointed to Russel.

"You mean to tell me there's Grimm on campus?" He asked, only to be given a confirming nod from his teacher. "But what if they got out? None of have an aura yet, Teach." Russel gritted his teeth, not hiding his sour mood any longer. "We'd all get slaughtered!"

"Oh pipe down, Thrush." The Teacher waved off Russel's concerns. "The Grimm are docile. We don't feed 'em anythin'. We keep them in the dark almost at all times. These are the kind of conditions old POWs in the Great War had to endure. Nasty stuff."

"In other words we shouldn't have anything to worry about." Marie-Anne chimed in all cheerfully. No doubt that would be scoring her brownie points when it came to quarter grades.

After that, Russel kept his concerns to himself.

The Teacher signaled for them to follow her and they made their way to the center of the field. "I advise everyone take a step back." She said, motioning for everyone to keep away from the center of the field. She then pulled out a scroll and tapped in a contact. "Alright. Set it up."

The very center of the field fell downward, causing some like Russel act surprised. Of all the things that could possibly be state of the art, of course it's the thing where they keep the monsters.

Out of the hole shot out a two legged but otherwise unimpressive Grimm. Russel looked intrigued. He recalled reading about this type of Grimm once before. They called it the 'Creep'. A lizard-like Grimm.

"So how exactly are we going to unlock our auras?" Russel asked loudly, shouting over The Creep's meek growls.

"You're all going to fight Grimm." The Teacher flashed a wicked smile to her class.

At first there was an uproar. The students had weapons, sure, but they were years away from being capable fighters. The Teacher pulled out a whistle and blew it, causing the class to silence on the spot.

"Relax. Weren't you guys paying attention?" The Teacher asked annoyed. "Look at it! It can barely walk!"

The students then cast a looksee at The Creep, finding truth in their Teacher's words. If it weren't for the fact it was a Grimm some of them would question the quality of its containment.

"Ms. Cherri, you're first." The Teacher pointed at Marie-Anne.

Marie-Anne stepped up to bat, holding her tricked out pitchfork weapon with such elegance.

Despite its time in captivity, The Creep was capable of running circles around Marie-Anne. None of the students were full-fledged hunters, more like a quarter on their way. It was half expected for them all to die if they ever came face to face with a Grimm.

But despite the odds, Marie-Anne stood her ground. Russel stood there watching in disbelief as Marie-Anne held her own. Soon Marie-Anne began to glow. Russel, like all the other students just watched in disbelief. Suddenly, Marie-Anne's reaction time quickened and she struck the Creep, killing it.

"Top marks there Ms. Cherri." The Teacher smirked as she watched the dead Grimm dissolve. "While those new fancy schools would have some teacher unlock your aura, we prefer to do things a little old fashion here."

Russel cast a dirty look at his teacher. "You mean we don't have to do this?"

"Got a problem with it, Mr. Thrush?" The Teacher looked back at Russel, matching his stare. "No go on. I want to hear what you have to say."

"You can just activate our auras. We're literally throwing ourselves at Grimm and hoping they don't kill us." Russel deadpanned. "That's just fucking stupid."

"Glad to hear your opinion." The Teacher smiled darkly, apparently not taking to kind to Russel's words. "Now step right on up there cause your next."

"Don't die, Russ." Marie-Anne commented in the background.

Russel scoffed. "Friggin' stupid idea this is."

The boy begrudgingly took his place in the field. His sword held outward, ready for whatever popped out of the hole. While the anxiety gnawed at him, it was the wait that was murdering him. There were sounds beneath the ground like a vending machine.

Out of the ground popped a Grimm Russel knew too well. Russel's fighting stance flattered slightly at the sight of the Ursa. The Ursa let out a roar and cast its red soulless eyes on Russel. No doubt the first human it had seen in years as well as the first human it could kill in revenge for the years of imprisonment. So The Ursa charged at Russel.

Memories of that day in the woods began to flood back. There he was again, staring down that terrible Grimm while it prepared to end his life. He could move, there was nothing stopping him. He wasn't bound by chains nor was he encased in ice. He had the full mobility of his lower body and yet, Russel just couldn't bring himself to move.

And so the Ursa swung, Russel managed to find it in himself to close his eyes. He was half expecting to be smacked across the field and through buildings leaving behind comical holes that outlined his body. But the strike never came.

Russel opened his eyes and was greeted by the sight of his Teacher holding the Ursa at bay with her clipboard. "Good Try, Mr. Thrush." She said before decapitating the Ursa with the clip end of the board.

"Next!" She called out.

Russel went home that day feeling down. He watched from the sidelines as one by one his classmates manifested their auras. He was ridiculed by others, though not to his face. He could hear them while he walked back to the locker room. He could see that in his future days attending Oakwood, he'd be known as 'The Boy Who Froze'.

But at the end of it all, what troubled Russel the most wasn't his social standing. Forget that. It was that when he faced the Ursa, he didn't manifest an aura. An aura was a Hunter's best weapon. And he didn't even have one.

So Russel buried himself into his homework which he had no clue how to do, just to take his mind off things. But, unfortunately, in a town like Oakwood, news traveled fast and reached the ears of those whom one would rather not involve.

"I heard about what happened to you, Killer." Russel looked away from his book to the doorway. There he found his Father standing there with a look of disappointment on his face. He was dressed in long blue jeans and dull green duster that could tell tales of the Thrush Patriarchs glory days as a Huntsman. "The hell was that about?"

"I froze up. It happens." Russel said, returning his gaze to his work.

"No, it doesn't just happen." The elder Thrush stepped into the room, glaring at his son. "So what the fuck happened?"

"I just wasn't expecting it was all." Russel shrugged. He did his best to drown out his Father, just like he always did. But as always he failed. His Father pressed the matter once more, forcing Russel to turn and face him. "What more do you want from me?"

His Father punched him knocking Russel against his table. "I want you to get it through your thick skull. Nobody out there is gonna give you squat unless you succeed dammit!" He yelled. He turned to the door and began to walk out. "And where the hell is 'Darkling' at?" He pondered aloud.

"Right here." Russel rose his weapon, his 'Darkling'. The boy cracked a bloodied smile, fully prepared for whatever beating he received for the stupid joke.

But hey, it was worth it.

We haven't really seen any of the Combat Schools beneath Beacon. Oakwood is supposed to be the backwater of it all. They got a crappy school district with irresponsible teachers and what not and underfunded facilities.

I also wanted to play with the idea of Russel actually being a smart character. He makes it to Beacon, he got there on his own abilities. That means the guy has something going for him. But more on that later, yes?

'Til next time dear reader. Later Days!