The crabs rose from the depths of the muck like political science majors. At least three of them scurried themselves out of the swamp, making an ominous and disgruntled clicking sound with their large claws and mandibles. Jaune instantly went into a defensive position, his hand on the handle of a weapon. A big weapon, to be more precise. The ranger pulled it out, seeing that it was his big ass sword/ butcher knife combo. "Well, when life gives you lemons…" he shrugged, rearing the metal plate on a handle. "You gotta crush some lemons."
I thought the saying was you had to make lemonade? B asked, tilting his head.
Jaune shrugged. Yeah, but lemonade made out of crabs is kind of nasty, you know? He responded, getting into the usual form. Wide stance, the not sharp end of the blade on his shoulder, one hand at the pommel and the other up by the blade. The crabs moved to encircle him, cautiously surrounding their foe.
They clicked and clacked, taking turns almost as though they were talking to each other. They skittered and scratched against the muck and the trees. He heard one of them start to move, slushing through the marsh water. With a full body twist, Jaune brought his hefty blade down upon the crab's outstretched claw. The two met in the space between them, clattering together. The crab's claw tightened, keeping a firm grasp on the weapon. Jaune growled, discontented that his blade was trapped in such a powerful limb. The crab on his left, now opposite the one that held his blade, scuttled forward. Jaune wheeled on it, his face flaring with a burning, seething rage that it would even dare to consider such an action.
Oh, wait, no, that was just literal fire pooling in his mouth. Letting it fall open, jaune let the flames pour out in a bathing of fire, something the crab found rather uncomfortable. It let out a skittering scream, retreating away from the unnatural flame. Jaune turned his attention back to the crustacean that held his blade. With a knock, Jaune practically punched the flat edge of his greatsword. The knock jolted the blade downward, into the joint of the crabs claw.
It bit into the flesh with a crunch. Severing that initial tendon that was just under the shell. With a grunt, the blade twisted flat, popping the entire ligament out and rendering the claw useless. The dactylus hung loosely, connected by flesh and spilling the black grimm ichor.
A looked at that sentence again, confused. What the fuck is a Dactylus? He asked. And how is it related to Krrrabsss?
Jaune sighed, backing away from the very much in pain crab, which was screaming that strange shrill and clattering cry that crabs had. A Dactylus is the lower, more mobile pinchy bit of the claw.
Ah. A nodded. Welp, back to the Krrrab Krrracking!
Please, please, please, B groaned as Jaune punched another crab in the face. Please stop calling them Krab with a K.
It was at this point that Jaune knew where that conversation was deteriorating to. So he decided to ignore it. He had crabs to crack.
He flung his blade in a wide arc, giving him some space to deal with the injured crab. He focused on ending the life on the one in front of him. He lunged forward to grab the crab's eye stalk. It flailed around, trying to escape from the painful grasp. This wasn't going to be the case for long, as Jaune leveled his large blade to the things mouth.
The Grimm knew this step of the dance. Jaune knew this step of the dance. They both knew that this dance would split, the partners would break apart and find new ones. Or, Jaune would find a new one.
The crab would soon be impaled by a several foot long blade. The blade was thrust forward, ramming through the many mandibled mouth of the massive Grimm crustation. It plunged through the separative chitnis in the back of it's throat, piercing into the organs and lower brain of the grimm. It separated them like a shovel carves through dirt, and black oozy ichor bubbled and frothed from the entry wound. The crab choked on its own blood, slowly losing vitality as it twitched and groped at the air, trying desperately to get to the fading thing in front of him. The world was growing so dark, it couldn't see that which had killed it anymore.
Their dance had ended, but Jaune was still hungry for the dance. He turned to another foe, knowing that they were bound to complete the dance. He recentered his stance, ready to smite another foe into the ground. He looked to see who was next. He decided crab number two was next. He reached forward, wrapping his magic around the crab. The world reacted, letting the extraterrestrial force guide the growth of the nearby roots. The trees grew and twisted around the grimms legs, molding to the enchanting coaxing mold the magic had.
The crab scrambled as several strands of plant matter burst from the ground, completely unprepared for the laws of normal nature to be so grossly violated. The roots dragged him forward towards Jaune's open hand. The hand closed into a fist, and Jaune decked the crab in the face. The crab rocked, bouncing on its legs as a large crack was forced into its calcium based armor. The other crab dared to try and pinch the stranger danger ranger in a pincer attack. Jaune thrust his blade forward, catching it in between its eyestalks. While it didn't kill it, it did manage to pin it to that particular position, preventing any advancement it might have on Jaune.
"Well, there goes that option." he sighed, preparing to start throwing punches. A left jab hit the crab in the crack, trying to force it open. The crab jabbed in retaliation, trying to pry itself away from the thing that was brutalizing it. Jaune snapped up a fist, knocking away the claw. The other crab latched onto him with his other claw. It bit into his armor, bending and breaking the metal to poke at his skin. Jaune jerked back, but was stuck in place with the claw. The other claw, recently knocked away, also came to attack Jaune. The ranger decided that this was not a good situation to be in.
And do you know what the best solution is to not good situations?
Often, fire. B responded with a sage nod. Jaune nodded, pooling additional fire into his mouth.
Indeed, they often fire. He agreed, deciding to spew dragon fire upon his foe. The crab screamed, letting go to back away from the flame.
That was followed up by just punching the crab in the mouth.
Man, right in the kisser. A winced as the crab attempted to escape, but the arcane infused roots kept it stuck in place. It felt strange for Jaune to manipulate a living thing like that, but it was a conviennent manipulation of the world around him.
This next one is going to hurt a lot more. Jaune said, focusing his magic and his aura into his arm muscles. They bulged slightly as his fist reared back.
It broke through the cracked plate of natural armor, plunging deep into the flesh of the crab. His fist cracked into the upper organious area, lobotomizing into the grimms crablike brain. With a terrible squelching noise he pulled his fist out, taking a chunk of brain with it.
The crab swayed in the air, rapidly losing its life force. Jaune looked at the chunk of brain in his hand, still pulsating with a loose limp lifeline.
I wonder what it tastes like. He thought as he looked at it. The last grimm in the background groped at thin air, trying to grasp the ranger in between its claws. It failed of course, unable to move forward due to the blade lodged in its face, and unable to retreat due to the vines that had unintentionally wrapped around its legs as well. It watched in horror as this unknown thing, bathed in a sickly yellow tore into its brethren like nothing, its bare fists breaking its proud armor and its great life snuffed out like the small flame of a prayer candle. It looked at the brain of his brother, contemplatively. The crab watched, the unknown feeling of terror rising within it.
Had it always been this smart? To be able to fear such a thing as emotion? Like fear? Like hope? Was it more than mindless, able to understand the concepts of brethren and tribal connections? Could Grimm be racist, should they desire to be such? Could I have a name?
These were things that this particular grimm crab, more commonly known as a Cancer, would have been pondering if it were not looking death straight in the eye.
If it was not watching the thing that would be it's death eat it's fellow grimms brain right in front of it.
Jaune made a face. "Oh, god, it tastes awful." He said, spitting out the bite with a retching sound. It did indeed taste awful in a way that was wholly indescribable. Pure, fermented, concentrated evil in the form of flesh. Unseductive and gruesome.
Then the thing that looked like a human, but bathed in that awful, all-empossasing yellow light, that thing that walked separated from the world, turned on the grimm. And it felt its overwhelming fear turn to anger.
That was my friend's brain! You could have at least respected how it tasted! I will rip you into shreds for that! It howled out, spewing the feral sounds out of its blood soaked mouth. It grasped desperately for the yellow thing, every nerve on fire with a burning feeling of danger, like it was no longer in its own domain, but that of something far greater than it. It would fight on regardless, wrathful to exact it's single minded and dim revenge.
Jaune pulled his blade out of its locking position, letting the crab stumble and scurry forward through the constricting vines. Jaune shook his head, looking into its eyes. He wondered if that was fear he saw under all that feral wrath.
He would make this quick. A single, powerful overhead slam split the Cancer in twain, its two halves falling to the ground, dissolving into black sludge. Jaune stretched out, holding up his blade that had served him so well to the light.
"You need a name, don't you?" he asked it. It didn't respond with joyus agreement or disdainful apathy. In fact, it didn't respond at all. It just sat there, silent in his hands.
We should name it Krabkracker, because it is very good at cracking krrrabs. A suggested with a wide smile.
B gave him a wide eyed look, his neck stretched out as though to mimic a rather dumbfounded turtle. If that isn't possibly the dumbest thing that has ever passed your tongue-
"I like it." jaune nodded, causing B to have such a whiplash that he probably caused a hurricane somewhere. His eyes were practically falling out of his sockets as jaune considered the name. "Krabkracker. And so it shall be." he nodded. Sheathing the weapon, he turned his attention to the flowers above. Carefully selecting a sturdy tree, he climbed up the lowest branches to get up to being level with the orchids. Inspecting the pretty white and oddly almost blue flowers, it took in every detail. The structure of their roots, the way their stems bent in the wind, how their leaves were formed to catch the light. After he had his fill of gazing at their beauty, he pulled out one of his smaller knives, cutting at the base of the flowers. He remembered his mother teaching him how to cut and arrange flowers so very long ago. How to speak with flowers, and how to convey emotion through ornamentation. How to make crowns and jewels out of petals and stems. He twisted the one in his hand between his fingers, further admiring it from every angle.
We should braid it into our hair. A suggested out of the blue. You know, for prosperity's sake.
Jaune tilted his head. I was unaware that orchids represented prosperity. He said with a slightly downturned lip, somewhere between a frown and an accepting sigh.
Nostalgia then. A admitted the truth. Trying to grasp onto a history that was long buried, a past long burned. A name long carved into a stone of clouds and sorrow. A soul long lost. Trying to raise the dead, but not the forgotten. Jaune let out a sad sigh, raising up the stem to his hair.
To nostalgia then, and dead men walking. He sighed, intertwining his pale ashen yellow hair with the green stem. A whole slew of orchids were cut from the endless canopy field to decorate his hair, and another bundle wrapped and tied.
Jaune returned to campus with a collection of carefully picked orchids, tied gently in an easy bundle. He was covered in grimm blood, the carnage of his encounter clear to all he passed. He supposed he was an odd site for those he passed, covered, no painted black with grimm blood but yet with flowers daintily tied into his uncovered hair, adorning and framing his face. He passed many people, drawing odd stares he wished he could either ignore or shrink away from. But he couldn't present such a weakness. He was already on thin tense strings, the last thing he could do was that.
What he passed also included the headmasters office, which was closed. But he could hear the headmaster talking to someone.
"-You have to be joking with me. You have to be. There is no way I am letting you even consider taking first year students on that trip! It would be a suicide mission!" The headmaster called out, clearly chewing someone out.
"Oh, so you mean like the suicide mission you sent my team out in our first year?" The person asked. Jaune could already picture the skeptical face that Dr. Sebastian Cortez was making it. It was Dr. Cortez's voice he heard, right? Jaune pressed his ear to the door, silently listening in to the conversation.
"That was a mistake based on faulty evidence and you know it!" Lionheart bit back. Jaune furrowed his brow.
That sounded like a lie. He thought. Clearly Sebastian thought the same, or had heard that excuse several times, judging by his scoff.
A chair scrapped against the floor. "Headmaster. The team I am recommending is well prepared for this mission, and there's already going to be a fellow first year team to support. Besides, I will only make the offer. If they wish to take something a little slower, they may. That will not deter me from doing this, Leo." Cortez said, his voice hard, but even and tempered. Lionheart was apparently not having any of it.
"No, Cortez! I will not let you go off galavanting for two weeks playing at Spymaster or whatever the fuck you do, and I most certainly won't let you drag students into this!" he roared at the doctor, clearly putting his foot down. Instead of being met with a cowed submission that one might expect, Sebastian started laughing out loud. A cankerous, unnaturally loud barking laugh that sent every hair on Jaune's body standing straight up.
It stopped suddenly, apparently Dr. Cortez realized that Lionheart was serious. "You serious?" he asked, and started laughing again at whatever answer he got. His tone suddenly got very quiet, forcing Jaune to use some semblance of divination magic to enhance the sound, pushing his senses beyond the door of wood and into the room itself.
"Ask yourself, Lionheart." he said softly, dangerously, clearly up in the headmaster's face. "Who's going to stop me? Who amongst your pawns would stop me? Hart? Pfft, he's still limping from our last fight. Cathode and Godfrey? They're old Veijito from a long lost era. You know Roxxane is on my side, so who's left? You?" Jaune could hear the smirk in his voice. "I know you were a finalist in the Vytal Tournament, but that was literally decades ago. I have wiped huntsmen, Tribes, hell, even entire armies off the face of this earth. What are you going to do?" He questioned the headmaster. The lion faunus gulped, his composure breaking if his answer was anything to judge by.
"I-I could fire you." He managed to get out. Sebastian laughed at that again, shaking his head as he managed to get himself under control.
"You could," he admitted. "You could fire me. But what would that leave you with? Vale has got Glynda Goodwitch, a legendary huntswoman in the public eye, and by extension Qrow Branwen and Taiyang Xiao Long Rose" He said, emphasizing each word of the last name. "Both legends in the Huntsman world that would have most men surrendering at the mere mention of their name." The floor creaked as the doctor started to pace. "Not even to mention Peter Port. Vale's got a whole basket full of heavy hitters. And Atlas?"
"Atlas has got an entire army of top tier, prime A class huntsmen and better. The Ace Ops, Winter Schnee, Carl Van Honsur, and of course they have Big Daddy General James Ironwood, the man who straight up overthrew an entire government on a fucking whim of the people with an army made of fucking straw and half dead esclavos." he continued, clearly emphasising the sheer power that these countries had.
"And we can't forget about Vacuo, with such legends in action like Savara the Sand Ripper, or Big Jeorge." Sebastian made a ticking sound, tutting as he halted his pacing for a moment. "And what do we have, if you fire me?"
The headmaster's silence was telling. Sebastian continued to answer for him anyway. "We have a B rate ring fighter, an historian who hasn't seen active combat since the thirties, a faunus nurse, and a dust professor that is so bed ridden from his own addiction that he can't even teach his own classes." he spat, clearly unimpressed with the roster.
"Admit it, Headmaster." He said, the title clearly more mocking than anything else it could have ment. "You need me, like it or not. And that means you really can't tell me no, now does it?"
The Headmaster sighed. "Out of my office." he growled. Sebastian chuckled.
"I knew you would see my way."
"NOW!" Leonardo shouted. Sebastian started moving, heading toward the door. Jaune took that as his signal to get out and head back to his dorm. If he rushed, he might be able to make it to dinner.
This was supposed to be a gag chapter. it got way more serious than I intended too. but i really think that this is a good chapter. It covers what I wanted it to, and sets up for the next arc. you get two guesses as to who Sebastian is talking about, and the first one doesn't count.
Also this was a bit of an ohmage to the originalconcept of this story, which had Jaune "bonding" with an ancientsymbiotic Grimmnamed Servitor from pre Salemera. it would have been fairly similar with the whole "Jaune is a stranger and Arslan is doing her best to help him, and inadvertentlypulling back into being human" but more of an emphasison that. I have no fucking clue how we got here from here. In the words of Kronk "Well, by all accounts it doesn't make sense"
We also get another name for one of Jaune's Weapon. the big sword is now named the Krab Kracker. an appropriate name. I actually will spend a decent amount of time in the swamp, because I want it to end up being Jaune's safe Hideaway place. i think it fits him. Dark, broody, but beautiful in a dangerous and unusual way. Full of life and growth, but also death and decay.
We also get some character framing for both the world of Huntsmen and Sebastian Cortez. Next chapter we offically "start" the first mission arc, but next chapter might be really fucking long. My friend I have roped into reading this along with publishing has asked that I do a full inventory check, and frankly that sounds really funny to do. it might also be like thirty pages on it's own. So decisions decisions.
As always, please tell me your thoughts, comments, ideas, fan ideas, and helpful criticismyou have for this story that is not better grammar. I'm an engineer, not a novelist. the limitations of spell checker is the roof for me.