Prologue:
Hooded figures skulked the shadows. He ran through the winding alleyways. Bare feet skidding across hot pavement and warm sands. Blood trickling down his leg. He vaulted up the side of a building. He found himself looking at a maze of winding alleyways and slums. Mistral always was a rough place. He hopped from rooftop to rooftop, he could hear footsteps, heavy boots clambering on the pavement below. From the corner of his eye he saw a blade, long and sharp. It came out of nowhere, it was heading straight for him. He turned his head, he felt a sharp pain. Screaming filled his mind. Vision turned red, the ground turned to ice and the sky became fire. He rolled along murky darkness, a shape was standing above him. White robes, a pair of tusks and a heavy mask addorned to resemble a grimm. He knew the blade well, it was his. Probably stolen from his home just moments after the ambush. The man laughed. As he did, what "humanity" the man had faded, his face matched the symbolism of his mask, what was left was nothing more than another beast. As suddenly as the man emerged, he vanished. He took the rooftop with him.
- VOLUME 2 -
Chapter 1: Relapse.
- CALICO -
A faint smell of freshly caught fish, the distant shouts of beleaguered tradesmen, the crashing of waves, and the cool rustling winds of salty air. Calico knew these smells well. He awoke from his hammock, made from old fishing nets and stepped around the tiny shack. It didn't have much in the ways of luxuries, just the necessities. He opened the trunk he used for a dresser and pulled out some clothes. Ragged trousers, a stained vest and a rather neatly folded dress shirt, a nice blood red. After all, you've gotta to look presentable. He dressed quickly, carefully slipping his tail through the hole in his trousers. He shook his legs to make sure there was no awkwardness. Nothing worse than a chaffed tail after all. He felt his chin, it was rough and wiry. Not exactly his finest look. He could probably use a shave. He ran his hands through his oily hair. Maybe a bath too. He quickly tied it into a pony tail.
He picked up a broken piece of a mirror and held it up. His mangy blonde hair tied neatly back, small wires of hair sticking out loosely around the sides. He looked a lot rougher than he's been in weeks, though not as rough as he's ever looked. His pearly blues winked back at him. His cat ears, or what's left of them at least twitched. His ran his hand along his right ear, it's tip missing. He was fortunate that was all he lost. He pulled out a calico fur hat and placed it on his head. He posed in front of the mirror shard a few more times and decided to go hat-less today. He tossed it onto a coat rack with a single long brown coat, it landed neatly on a hook. He reached for his weapon, a heavy metal rod tied to a rope, with a nice handle at the far end. Simple in form, fairly complex in practice.
He stepped out, his feet touching warm sands. The sun was shining, the waves crashed along the beach. Probably the nicest beach in Vale. Probably the only one at that. He looked down the coast, sand quickly turned to rocky shoals. To his right, a concrete wall. He twirled his weapon around casually and flung it upwards. He clicked a button on the handle and two flat blades folded out from either end. It hooked on something on the other side. He gave a firm tug, last thing he needs is to fall again. He climbed the rope, walking up the wall with an almost lazy gait. He reached the top, he found himself on the edge of a road, beyond the was the city of Vale. A car swerved through a puddle, a massive tidal wave of murky water splashed him. Wasn't the worst morning he's had this week, all things considered. He pulled out a hip flask from the inside his vest, he took a sip and smiled.
- LYRA -
Professor Port was rambling on as he usually does. Long winded speeches about what a handsome stud he was in his youth and all the heroic misadventures he had with huntswomen while battling evil and saving the world. It was usually enough to send the majority of his class to sleep. In fact as far as the eye could see, that was the case. Sitting alone near the back of the class was Lyra, she was leaning with her head in her hands. She peered through the dusty window, watching birds fly in formation. She was worried, to say the least. She and her team had been missing a member for several weeks now. They were trying their best to cover for him but in truth they weren't quite sure where he was. The last day of the semester would be ending soon and break will be beginning. They just needed to keep the act on for a few more hours.
"Excuse me, Ms Tawny was it?" A voice called out, she jolted upright with a squeak and several students laughed uproariously. She felt her neck shrinking slightly. Professor Port was calling.
"Y-yes Professor Port?" Lyra squeaked. She glanced nervously. Billy was snoring away a few desks over from her. Morgana was twirling a pencil around her fingers.
"I'd like for you to help demonstrate something up front." He said with a big smile. "Where is your partner by any chance?"
"Sick." She lied, she had run the rehearsals many times before. "He can't leave his bed."
"A pity, but I have no doubt a student of Beacon can handle any task on their own!" He said with an enthusiastic arm pump. She felt her face turning white. Alone? What does he mean alone? She whimpered.
She stood in front of the whole class, she felt her hands instinctively tug on the hems of her cloak. Professor Port gave her a firm pat on the back which almost knocked her over. Before her was a cage, it was rattling away violently. Professor Port had a habit of planning these impromptu battles. There's a theory he does them on purpose to wake his class up.
"In this cage is a vile beast, unlike anything you have previously faced. It is a challenge of skill and daring to take down such an unknown adversary." Port said, already returning to his usual rambling personality. "You and your partner, I mean just you silly me, must face and defeat this unknown!"
He smacked the cage with his axe and the door swung open. Glowing red eyes were staring at her. It lunged. She instinctively recoiled. The professor was right, she had never seen anything like this. It was like a big cat, like a puma. It was covered in the usual black fur and white plating most grimm possess. She reached for Maibaum and drew it. She swung violently and struck it in the side of the head. There was a loud crack and a brilliant burst of sparks and it went flying in the air. It flipped itself in midair and landed directly onto it's feet. It let out a loud hiss. She noticed the students were now wide awake and leaning forward to watch the fight. She swallowed hard. She wasn't sure what was worse, the threat of death or the pressure of an audience.
The beast and her began to circle each other. She felt her heart pounding in her throat. Her head was getting dizzy and her vision was blurring out of focus. She felt like she was going to faint. She probably was. She knew she was the weak link in her team, she knew she always ended up the damsel in distress, even in practice. Even with this new weapon she still wasn't particularly good with it. Ash mentioned he was going to teach her how to fight with it. Then he disappeared. Go figure.
The beast arched it's back, it's hind legs wiggled in anticipation, it's tail went completely still. She let out another audible gulp and raised her weapon. It pounced with a ferocious roar. She yelped and dove out of the way. It flipped around and landed behind her on it's feet. It lunged. She stabbed at it. She realized she got the end of her staff caught on the beasts fur and swung it upwards, swinging the whole beast over her. It spasmed uncontrollably before it was able to flipped away and with a click of a button a rope dart shot into it's fur. It continued to spasm as it dropped to it's stomach and let out a loud constant yowl. Professor Port dragged the beast back to the cage and kicked the dart out. He slammed the door shut, locking it in place. She looked up at the class, it took her a moment to realize she was still lying on the floor, she gripped her weapon firmly enough that her hands were going white. She snapped Maibaum back into it's smaller form. Port took her by the hand and lifted her onto her feet. The class broke out into applause and Port enthusiastically patted her on the back. She fell over with a yelp.
She was still shaking well into the evening. She struggled with her fork to spear her potatoes. Morgana put her hand on her arm. Lyra jumped with another yelp and buried her head in her hood. She muttered quietly to herself. What was wrong with her, she's never had this much trouble keeping herself under control. She gnawed on her hair, which had grown shoulder length over the last few months. There was a reason she kept it short, chewing on her own hair was a bad habit. At least nobody could see her under her hood. She felt Morgana pat her gently on the back.
"It's okay little mouse, you did good." Morgana said quietly. Lyra didn't really like the nickname but she didn't mind it this time. She felt her self calm down a bit. She peaked out of her hood.
"I'm freaking out." She admitted, she realized how red her face must be. "I am freaking out about this school and the fact we might get kicked out. I'm freaking out about our leader, who for all we know is dead. I'm worried about the grimm and how we aren't ready to face them. I'm worried about the prospect of ending up in jail again. I'm scared."
"It's alright." Morgana said with another pat, she brushed Lyra's messy mane behind her ear. "Billy might not seem it but he's just as scared, maybe more. Minute class ends he locks himself in our room and sits on his bed. He's not eating as much anymore."
"Where is Ash?" Lyra asked. "What could have happened?"
"I don't know, tomorrow we have a chance to go looking. We'll have time off for a couple weeks. We will find him." She said with a surprisingly warm smile. "Now eat your potatoes."
Lyra smiled feebly and went back to spearing potatoes with her fork. She calmed down considerably. Maybe she just needed somebody to talk to. She still found it odd, her and Morgana never really hit it off well. She brushed the thought aside and lifted her head. She took on a grimm one on one and didn't die. She felt a little bit proud.
- ASH -
- Two Weeks Later -
The dim rays of sunlight revealed a hidden ballet of dust and smoke. The foggy haze that filled the establishment was hard on the lungs but between the drinks and the pain, it didn't bother him all that much. Ash smiled as he downed another glass and signaled the barkeep. The room was quiet, then again that's what happens when a group of armed thugs hold the place hostage. He saw a drink slide in front of him, he raised it up close. He could see golden bubbles floating up and around the ice cubes, he listened to the ice chattering against the glass. He could almost make out his reflection. His face was still bruised from the beating, not as badly though. The late nights and the drinking were probably adding more to the toll. He looked rough, maybe that's an understatement. He heard shouting behind him.
"Will you hurry the hell up?" One of the thugs called out. Work, work, work! He placed the cup down, pulled his mask down and spun around on his stool.
There were three hostages, not including the barkeep, and five armed thugs total. Three with guns, two with swords. Somewhere in the back was a thug named Trevor, who was running this operation. Ash spun Silver Faust idly as he scanned his surroundings. He could hear the ice cubes clinking against the glass. He smiled, the barkeep was bold, he'd give him that. He spun around and fired. Shooting the glass out of the barkeeps hands. The barkeep reached under the counter and pulled out a bat and started swinging. Ash kicked off against the counter and he shot behind the barkeep with a dust round, it dropped the whole cabinet full of bottles on the guy. Hate to be him in the morning. Trevor stormed in.
"Cops have us surrounded, plan B!" He shouted, the thugs pulled out several tools and started tapping the floor.
There was an old tunnel under this particular bar, the owner himself probably didn't know about it. They found the right spot and drilled a sizeable hole, then came the dust bomb. There was a loud burst and a hole big enough for a car marked their exit. They could hear windows smashing in. Ash dove for the hole. The sound of gunfire echoed above. Trevor dropped a dust bomb behind him as they ran. The tunnel collapsed behind them. Looks like the rest of the guys aren't getting out.
"Alright, two way split." Trevor said panting. He leaned against the wall. That was a little too close for comfort. Ash holstered Silver Faust. There was a sudden click and a dim flame lit the tunnel.
"Three way split." Roman interjected. A sly smile etched across his face. "Don't forget who's plan this was."
"Right, my mistake, did it all work out?" Trevor asked.
"It did wonderfully!" Roman said with a big smile. "Nobody would suspect, what with the big hostage crisis, that a couple of men just robbed a dust shop just three blocks away."
"So is that everything for today?" Ash asked, Roman took a long drag from his cigar and blew out in a lopsided circle.
"That seems about enough, divide up the earnings Trevor. I think I've had enough of this tunnel." Roman said, motioning them to follow. Trevor passed Ash a sizable cut, which he quickly packed into his backpack. He pulled his silver jacket out of one of the pockets and put it on, he packed his mask in as well. They climbed out of a trapdoor, they were in a shop three blocks away from both crime scenes, an old clothing store. The owner was an old man who probably couldn't see the broad side of a barn unless he was standing in front of it with a magnifying glass. They casually strolled out onto the street.
The sun was beginning to set. Ash strolled down to another dingy bar. Trevor offered to invite him to his club but Ash prefered the quieter setting. Plus he already had plans. He stepped inside, the smell of smoke, alcohol and quite possibly urine made him relax. It was practically home. He saw a man waving at him from a booth near the back. He hurried over.
"Calico!" Ash shouted, slouching into the seat across from him.
Calico Prince was a young man about his age, yet already running ragged. His cat ears, or what was left of them drooped a little lazy. One of them was missing a tip. He had already spilt his beer over his leather vest which he wore over a surprisingly nice red dress shirt. He always said he liked to look presentable at all times. Ash usually assumed he was being funny.
"You are just in time!" He said, there was a slight slur in his voice. Seems he started without him. "I got us into a card game."
"A card game?" Ash asked. It was just like Calico to drag him into more trouble. "You're drunk!"
"No I have this all planned out." He said in a hushed tone, he motioned for him to lean closer. Ash leaned in.
"I have a friend, his name is Rojo." He said. His eyes darted around the room shiftily. "He's got this trick, luck always goes his way. He's going to win the pot and split it with us.
"Why does he need us?" Ash asked. Calico scratched his beard.
"He need us to play our hands badly so the rest of the players will be more confident with their bets." Calico explained. He continued to eye the room as if some invisible thugs were about to materialize.
"Right well, might as well." Ash said signalling the barkeep for a drink. He was a little tipsy from the robbery still but what's a little more? He took a swig of his new drink and slouched back.
Calico called a guy from across the bar. Ash had to double take. The man had sharp features, tanned skin, and curly dark hair with a well styled mustache. He looked taller than Calico and definitely stronger. What was most noticeable was steel plate cuirass over a very elaborately frilly shirt. He had a sleek looking helmet, domed with a fin along it. A massive round shield was slung against his back. Ash wasn't expecting a friend of Calico to look so tough. Then again, Calico did say he was here for the Vytal Tournament, so he assumed this was one of his teammates.
"Rojo Escarlata, at your service." He said with a bow. He motioned them to follow him.
The back room was pretty dark and the men around the card table were were pretty strong looking. Ash was starting to have second thoughts of this game. Never hustle someone who's bigger than you, words to live by.
The game went well, Ash thought as he collided with the window. It shattered upon impact and he was tumbling out into the street. The entire pub had turned into a brawl, the sounds of smashing chairs and bottles drowned out the sounds of the city. He quickly dusted himself off. He should have seen that coming. Those guys did look like bad losers.
"Ash?" A voice called out from down the street, he hiccuped and turned his head. He saw Lyra hurrying over to him. "It's you! Where have you been?"
"Oh you know, around." Ash said with a lopsided smile. Those drinks were pretty strong. How many did he drink? He couldn't remember. "Doing stuff, and things."
"Are you drunk?" Lyra asked. She recoiled slightly, she probably could smell it from his breath.
"Only a little." Ash said, he swayed back and forth holding two fingers close together. He felt like he was going to fall on his own face.
"We thought you were kidnapped or dead!" Lyra squeaked. He yawned slightly. She glared at him. "We covered for you and you were here drinking the whole time?"
"You were close enough. Now can you hold that thought just a second?" Ash said waving his hand slightly. He lunged into the bar. Shambling through the mass of drunks he grabbed a bottle and cracked it over some guys head. The guy collapsed in front of Calico.
"Thanks mate, that guy almost had me!" He shouted. "We should probably bail."
A fist collided with Ash's face, he spun around and kicked his attacker square in the chest. Calico grabbed a chair and smashed it over one of the poker players and they hurried out the window and into the street. Rojo dove out quickly behind them.
"Some people just don't understand gambling!" Calico shouted. He nursed a rather big lump on his face. Rojo started laughing. Lyra was still there glaring.
"Lyra, your giving me a funny look." Ash said with his lopsided smile, drooping even more so than usual.
"I'm pretty pissed off with you." Lyra replied. She was glaring daggers. Ash winced slightly. "What were you thinking?"
"I'm living my life the way I want, that's what I'm thinking." Ash said. He raised his arms in the air drunkenly. "Enjoying what I have left of a life."
"You selfish prick!" Lyra spat. He burped.
"Your girl is feisty." Calico said. He was giggling until she started glaring at him. "Alright Ash, you got some stuff to deal with I'ma gonna go!"
"Our second semester begins in a few days" Lyra was fuming at this point. "Don't expect a warm reception, if you even bother to show up!"
"Let's just calm down and talk abou..." Ash began, Lyra spun around and slapped him. Hard. He spun around. When he turned back she had grabbed her hand and started shaking it wincing. "...or not."
She stormed off, Ash wobbled a bit. He was a dead man, the White Fang do not appreciate failure. So what if he decided to spend his final weeks drinking and fighting? He still felt a bit guilty, he wasn't sure why. Maybe he just reached the somber drunk stage.
He had a little spot near the harbor where he would find time to think. He skipped some rocks for a while but eventually even that seemed like it was too much. His mind was racing back to prison again. To Ozpin giving him a second chance. He thought about their discussion on leadership. He was no leader. He was drunk, he was a mess, his life was in shambles. How could he manage a group, let alone his group, like this. He sat there all night.
He stepped into Beacon Academy once again. The halls were empty, it was likely lunch time. He strolled the hallways quietly. He never just wandered the school before. It was a tranquil experience to see the school devoid of people. He could hear a ruckus in the cafeteria. The doors slammed open and students were running and screaming. He saw what looked like a watermelon flying at his face.
He woke up in his dusty old bed. He winced. His head was ringing. He felt sticky, though he wasn't sure why. He glanced around the room. Morgana was lounging on her bed, she noticed he was awake and hurried towards him, he smiled and was about to speak when her hand collided with his face.
"What was that for?" Ash asked.
"Lyra told us what you were up to these last few weeks." Morgana spat. She had the same look on her face Lyra had. "What was that whole speech you gave about working together as a team? Does that not apply to you?"
"Funny story..." Ash began.
"Drop dead." She interrupted. She stormed out the door and slammed it behind her. Go team, he thought quietly.
