Chapter 11: The Dizzying Highs of Highschool Football
"Let us at least make one effort, and if we must fall, let us fall like men!"
"So," Robin started. "Mind running that shit by me again?"
The entirety of team CRDL was gathered in their dorm. Cardin stood in front of a whiteboard, which he had appropriated from somewhere, probably an empty classroom. The rest of the team was arrayed in front of him in their seats. On the whiteboard were scribbles that Robin was vaguely sure were supposed to represent the docks.
"I mean, it's pretty simple, dude. We sneak onto a nearby roof, stake out the docks until the Fang arrives, jump them, and be back here before midnight. " Cardin explained, entirely sure of his plan. "Any questions?"
"Several," Robin said.
"Anyone but Robin have any questions?" Cardin spread his arms out, marker in one hand.
"Can we go ahead and go already?" Dove asked.
"Hey, don't just skip over me." Robin protested at the same time Dove spoke.
Cardin choose to throw his marker at Robin in place of a response. The marker bounced off his forehead, and Robin scowled.
"Cardin. I'm being serious for once." Robin leaned forward in his chair
"Alright, alright, fine. Shoot." Cardin held his hands up in surrender.
"Is there any plan b if this goes to shit. Anything at all?" Robin asked.
"Of course!" Cardin scoffed. "What kind of idiot do you take me for? If things start looking hairy, we bug out and call down the authorities."
"And if we can't? If we can't get out or get a call off?" Robin asked.
"I suppose we'll have to hope that doesn't happen then," Cardin said.
"Why aren't you taking this more seriously? I know it was my idea, but this is a big fucking risk." Robin said.
Cardin held up a hand. "We are huntsmen in training, going after a bunch of thieves. Most of them won't have aura. And even if they manage to beat us, they probably won't risk killing us. Not unless they want to bring the entire fucking Kingdom down on their heads."
"This ain't a joke. I told you they have-" Robin started.
"Yeah, they have Torchwick, who has at most committed a lot of robberies, not murder. They'll be coming at us with the kid gloves, this time at least." Cardin said.
"Even if they don't treat us with the kid gloves, we are training to be huntsmen. This is what we are going to be doing day in and day out." Dove interjected.
"Fine, fine, I'll follow y'alls lead." Robin conceded.
-2-
Being stuck behind a shipping crate while a madman shot a cannon at their cover wasn't exactly Robin's idea of being treated with the 'kid gloves.'
"Come on out, kids! I'll give you one chance to give up and head back home." Spoke the guyliner-wearing madman on the other side of the shipping crate.
Robin shared a look with his team. "So, anyone got a plan?"
"I don't know, his offer seems kind of enticing right about now," Sky said.
Cardin scoffed. "Just for that, you're with me. We're going to be pinning down Roman himself. Robin, Dove, you two tear through the grunts. Keep 'em off of us."
"Got it," Robin said. Dove gave a simple nod of agreement.
"One, two, go!" Cardin shouted as he jumped overtop of the shipping container, Sky following shortly after.
Robin dashed around the side, his aura immediately being peppered with a hail of bullets from a pair of grunts. In his peripheral, he spotted the rest of his team moving far faster than he could hope to. Dove, having already engaged a group of enemies across the docks. Cardin was hit by an explosive blast from Torchwick's cane, but he continued to charge forward; despite this, his aura weakened, and momentum slowed but far from stopped. Sky charged forward, Feather's Edge firing off shots wildly as he all but jousted toward Roman.
Robin tore his sword from his belt, the blade still in the scabbard as he swung toward the nearest grunt, the weapon hitting the other man across the head, silencing his wild firing.
He turned onto the other grunt and struck forward, the pommel of his sword hitting him in the jaw with the decorative sapphire embedded in the pommel cracking slightly under the blow. Of course, it was just some cheap trash. He should have known.
His hand reached under his coat, grabbing a flashbang and tossing it at the nearest group of foes. They were already blurring together, as Roman seemed to have just an endless supply of masked goons. What little finesse and flair he had in his strikes vanished as things turned into a meatgrinder of knocking out enemies.
However, his momentum came to a sudden halt as he swung forward with his guard, only for the swing to be brought to a halt entirely by a wall of muscle and aura. Robin craned his neck to look upward and was greeted by a giant man staring down at him. His face was half covered by a mask stylized to look like the face of a Boarbatusk. The bottom half of his face was left uncovered due to massive tusks that stuck out from his jaw. They extended far and had intricate designs carved into them, not unlike those found on the tusks of an actual Boarbatusk.
The man struck forward with his fist, hitting Robin in the chest and knocking the air out of his lungs. He was sent flying across the docks, landing not far from Dove, who had mostly finished tearing through the goons near him. As he flew through the air, he was vaguely reminded of the last time he tried to spar with Cardin, who had knocked him down in just three hits. He had no right to hit that fast for how large he was.
Dove appeared at his side as he gasped for air. "You not dying on me yet, are you?"
Eventually, Robin got his gasping under control. Physically waving off Dove's concern. "He just knocked the wind out of me."
Dove helped him to his feet as the two stared at the Tusked man, who had pulled his weapon from his back. A massive two-handed hammer, larger than Robin was.
"Think you can handle him?" Dove asked.
"I think I can distract him for a bit while he tosses me around like a chew toy," Robin said.
"Good. Because Cardin and Sky are getting their asses kicked, and I need to help them." Dove said, patting Robin on the shoulder.
"Joy, this is gonna be fucking wonderful, isn't it," Robin said.
"Exactly, that's the spirit!" Dove said as he moved away.
Robin turned his attention back to the slowly approaching giant. Who spoke in a deep baritone. "Leave him to me… you runts would only die. Your blood is not yours to spill. It belongs to the Khan."
The white fang soldiers parted like the red sea as the tusked man, whom Robin had decided to nickname Tusk, approached. He grabbed his scabbard and tossed it off of his sword as Tusk walked forward. Readying himself for the fight to come. It took him two seconds to conclude that he would die if he was caught in a straight-up brawling match. The one advantage he had was mobility. So he had to use it.
Aura flooded into his legs as Robin began to run, overworked muscles and tendons being pushed far beyond what they should be doing. His hindbrain screamed at him that his current plan was extremely fucking stupid as he charged directly at the wall of muscle that could turn him into a meat patty with just one or two hits. However, as usual, Robin ignored that voice of common sense.
His eyes tracked the muscles and bones of Tusk's entire oversized, misbegotten form. Searching for any opening, any way to knock him off course to let Robin get a few hits in. All he saw was Tusk slowly raising his weapon in preparation to knock him on his ass.
Robin felt something in his head. Something that seemed to tug at him as he charged. He followed the tug, dropping into a slide that saw him narrowly avoid having his face pulverized as Tusk's massive hammer missed him by a hairsbreadth.
He shot to his feet, the giant's back still turned, and slashed at him. Once, then twice before the man turned, bringing his hammer around with him. Once more, that thing seemed to tug at his brain, and he followed it, stepping back just in time to see a large hammerhead fly mere inches from his face.
It was in that moment, as he danced with death, following some strange part of his brain he had never used before, that he realized one important thing.
Tusk was slower than Cardin. Somehow, that knowledge sent an almost manic smile spreading across his face.
Robin once more rushed forward, narrowly slipping under a hammer blow as he slashed against Tusk's side. He kept following that tug in his brain. Tusk's hammer couldn't touch him as he ducked and weaved around the larger man.
Until he was one second too slow.
Tusk's hammer smashed into his chest with enough force to send him flying into a nearby shipping container with a loud crack. The metal wall of the container cracked and broke against his back, and for a moment, all he saw were stars.
Sweat covered his eyes, and all he could make out was blurry figures in the distance. Maybe it was the Fang, maybe it was his team. He had lost the ability to tell.
He heard a shout, and his neck snapped toward it. The fried nerves in his brain suddenly drag him back to the present. As his mind registered the oversized form of Tusk charging right at him, hammer held high.
He could only react. His body moved on autopilot. His legs dragged him out of the dust-filled container he had been tossed into as his hand reached into his coat until it pulled out a pale blue vial and tossed it onto the ground in front of him. Robin simply moved to the side, slightly leaning on his blade as the tip rested against the ground, heaving in breaths.
Ice spread across the ground as dust reacted. It's basic Newtonian physics, his fried brain supplied. An object in motion will stay in motion unless acted upon by an outside force. As Tusk's momentum propelled the Faunus onto the ice, he slipped and slid right into the container where Robin had been mere moments ago; Robin could only thank god he paid attention in that class at least.
Almost lazily, he grabbed his pistol from his waist, took aim at the opening, and fired. The shot ignited the dust on impact and caused the entire shipping container to ignite in a fireball. That should do it.
Robin holstered his pistol and turned, looking over the fight between the rest of his team and Torchwick. He wasn't exactly an expert, but it looked like Roman was on the back foot. Barely. The grunts were beginning to scatter at the loss of Tusk, who Robin could only assume was their leader.
A deep laugh behind him tore him from his thoughts as he turned around. Just in time to see a hand the size of his head grab onto the edge of the opening in the crate and drag out a mostly still-in-tact Tusk. The giant had seen better days; one of his tusks had been broken, his body was wreathed in flame, and his clothes were melting onto his body.
But still, he stood and let out another booming, almost manic laugh. "You… you've earned my hatred. Your kind has set me aflame before. But the Khan's fury burns brighter than any fire. You will not escape here, boy."
Robin lowered himself into a stance; he didn't need to check his scroll to know he was running on empty, both on aura and energy. His arms shook as he prepared for the fight to begin once more, taking solace in the fact he didn't need to win, just distract Tusk long enough for one of his team to finish with Torchwick and come kick his ass.
His musing was interrupted by a distant roar. It took his mind a moment to register the source of the noise—four fast-approaching bullheads. The next thing he noticed was the slowly rotating chain guns on each of them. His brain screamed at him, and he began to run as they opened up, pouring hate onto not just him but his entire team.
It didn't take much time for him to be joined by his team in fleeing from the three aircraft. Eventually, they ducked behind a concrete wall. Which barely held up against the barrage.
"So, the mission is going well, I see," Robin said.
Cardin ignored him. "I don't think we have anything to take down those bullheads. Anyone got any ideas?"
Dove shook his head negative, but Sky seemed thoughtful and spoke. "Fastball special."
"What?" Cardin asked.
"It's a comic thing-" Sky began.
"Do we really have time for comic book references?" Dove interrupted.
"Shut up!" Sky yelled, "I can use my semblance to lighten myself and my armor, and Cardin, you throw me."
"Throw you?! Are you insane?" Cardin exclaimed
"Do we have many other options right now?" Sky said, already his armor was beginning to glow, and he hopped on top of Cardin's mace. "Toss me."
"Are you-" Cardin began to ask but was cut off.
"Toss me before I recognize this is a horrible idea!" Sky shouted.
Cardin complied and swung his mace hard. Sky shot off it like a javelin; his halberd pointed behind him. For a moment, it seemed like he wasn't going to make it, and then his weapon cracked with a thunderous bang that sent him flying even higher. Just barely close enough to jerk his halberd forward with a stab and pierce the wing of the Bullhead. The boy yanked his weapon free, cutting off the wing entirely, and let go, falling almost gently to the ground.
The Bullhead spiraled out of control, its remaining engine not having enough power to keep it airborne. It crashed into the docks with a thunderous boom, the pilot inside barely having time to jettison himself before it hit the ground.
Sky landed near the group, his aura visibly flickering from overuse. "I… never want to do that again."
"You got three more of those in you?" Robin asked.
"I didn't even have one of those in me," Sky said with a wince.
Roman approached the group, almost lazily swinging his cane, no longer recognizing the team as a threat. Lighting a cigar as he walked."I'll admit it: You kids surprised me. But I think we all know you are batting out of your league here."
Cardin loudly sighed. "For fucks sake, just fuck off already. The dust has already been blown up."
Roman tsked. "Afraid I can't do that. See, the boss lady isn't gonna be too happy with this one. So I figure you four would be better scapegoats for it than me."
"Is it too late to just live and let live?" Robin asked.
"It is far–" Roman began; however, his jaw dropped open as a large green laser shot out from a nearby rooftop and cut a bullhead in half. His cigar fell out of his mouth.
Instantly, his tone changed. "Well, it was nice meeting you endearing students, but I must go. Stay out of school, don't do drugs." The thief began to flee, and so did his white fang compliment.
Tusk stopped in his fleeing to stare directly at Robin. "I will remember you, boy, and our fight will be finished one day."
Several swords struck out, pinning themselves in one of the bullheads, and nearly invisible strings pulled the bullhead to the ground, causing it to crash into a pile of shipping crates, causing a massive fireball to form.
Roman and his cohort fled for the nearest remaining bullhead and quickly flew away. Leaving CRDL exhaustedly staring in awe as a ginger girl approached them.
"Salutations, Beacon Academy students!" She proclaimed loudly.
Usually, Robin might have some wisecrack or stupid joke to say about it, but at this moment? All he could focus on was the fact that the ground was getting worryingly close to his face. Then everything was black.
Uhhh this one. Sure is one of the chapters of all time. It sorta fought me some, and I was sick while writing some of it. Hopefully, it's still enjoyable. As always call out any mistakes, weird things, or even things you just don't like. Hope y'all enjoy and have a wonderful day!