[Alexandros Skouriá]

An alarm, every two hours.

It sounded, Alexandros clawed the otherwise useless Scroll from his pocket, and then it was silenced. 10 in the morning already? he mused. The exploration had thus far been extremely uneventful, and a far cry from the expectation built up in his head when the assessment was first explained; after the initial excitement of the launch and landing, Rank Eight had truly hoped to begin his Grimm extermination right then and there, but it did not happen.

Thrash was loaded with four regular shots, the remaining allocated charges of Dust safely stored away with the rest of the ammo in his bag. They would be put to good use later in the event -- he was certain of it -- but were well and truly out of the way for the early hours of it all; there would be no point in using either of the two with a whole day left to play out, and Alexandros knew it. So, the bag would be their home, staying their home until much later on. Part of him was regretting packing so much for a single day's travel and survival, but another part knew that it would all prove itself useful at one point or another. He trudged through the underbrush of the untamed forest floor, every sudden sight and sound making him pause and check the surroundings, with nary a beast of evil to be found. On one hand it was a relief to know that he was safe, and on the other a crushing disappointment that time was rolling on with no worthwhile progress toward his goal being made. Maybe all his luck had been summoned up and stolen away from him at the very beginning, with his landing back in the clearing hours before...

There was nothing to gain in focusing on that, though, so the boy continued to trudge. Alex was scarcely sure he had been making any sort of forward progress, but could do no more than cling to the chance he wasn't just wandering aimlessly in circles. Doubt would only slow him down, and slowing down would only further reduce the chances of finding other participating students to work with or Grimm to kill. The prospect consisted very firmly of two losses, which only made the alternative of his haphazard roaming more enticing.

And then, he heard it.

Another sound from somewhere nearby, behind the trees, yet distinct and different from all he had before. It was something much more primal, something laced with hate. Grimm -- never before had he encountered one of the creatures, but it was still somehow supremely clear. What else could it have been, really? Alexandros held Thrash tightly in both hands, poised and ready, half-crouching to the ground to try and make himself hidden from whatever was lurking out there. As quietly yet quickly as he could, he pressed on toward the origin of the sound with keen focus. You're going down, he thought, to psyche himself up. Let's see if I can't make honeycombs out of you.

Alexandros leapt to action, darting forward and pressing against a tree for cover to assess the situation. One beowolf, and one other student doing battle with it. There was a sort of effortlessness to the way the two of them were moving, swipes from one being slipped and dodged by the other. The weapon of choice, on show for the black-haired boy's prying eyes, were two long and ornate swords, something far greater than a dinky little pistol could ever be. Once more the beast made a move, and in a quick passing cut a rhythm built around the two combatants. It didn't last. In a crescendo of dramatic violence, the other student's dance of swords came to an end in a combined whirlwind-like turning slash; the motion was slick and calculated, and before Alexandros had even processed it all, the stranger's two large blades had come together at their pommels to form a frightening and almighty war bow. An arrow was nocked, drawn, and loosed, tearing through the beowolf and leaving a decaying cloud of wickedness behind to scatter on the forest floor. It was an intense display, one which had been executed perfectly against the far, far outmatched target. Only one, Alex thought, that can't be right. Beowolves were pack hunters, he had been told, even if the younger Grimm possessed no tactical forethought to direct their bloodlust. The other gentleman, reawakening his senses to the greater world, must have thought the same. Standing straight, he turned to scan in all directions, where he would surely see the shorter boy half-hidden in the trees. He was tall -- well, taller than Alex at least -- with silvery hair and golden eyes. His gaze was one unimpressed and almost uncaring, yet carried no traces of ill intent. The large combined weapon was deftly held in a single hand, suggesting a great degree of strength and control.

The young gunslinger unglued himself from the trunk of the tree he clung to, and lowered Thrash as he went.

"Hey," Alexandros called out with a slight wave, "are there any more? We can work together, if there are."

--

WC 869/869

[Argent Steele]

I know you got hate in you. Most do. Trick is to use it, 'stead of it usin' you.
But you know this. Vengeance is a motivator, not the motive.

Don't hunt 'em 'cause you been wronged.
Hunt 'em 'cause what they did was wrong.
There's a world of difference there, kid.
One makes you selfish. The other makes you a hero.

And I see a hero in you.

❝

Argent frowned down at his new Ouroboros for a few moments, replaying his combat performance so far in his mind’s eye. This was the new weapon’s first combat test in a non-training environment, so he was keeping an eye out for all sorts of issues that might occur during the mission. Comparing it to Subtle Calamity, there was little difference between the two weapons when it came to the bow form that they shared, save for little tweaks here and there. A more ergonomically designed grip, a longer length, reinforced motors - small improvements on what Subtle Calamity had lacked. But as far as things went when it came down to killing Grimm, Ouroboros had a similar draw strength, and the weight of each sword, while individually lighter than the combined spear form of his previous weapon, put more strain on his arms when using them in melee. Which meant that his combat effectiveness, aside from the Semblance fueled projectiles that didn’t count, in any case, hadn’t improved at all, if one were to look at solely weapon statistics as opposed to overall performance.

A higher draw strength, he mused to himself, separating Ouroboros and placing it into the sheaths on his back. Thicker bowstring, tighten up the motors.‌ That should help.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, the snake Faunus glanced around. He needed to regroup with Thorne as fast as possible, and he wasn’t going to do that by hanging around thinking about how well Ouroboros matched up against Subtle Calamity. There had been more than sixteen Grimm the last he counted, two swarms of Beowolves and Ursa Minors moving through the forest. There had been gunfire in the distance, shouts and yells from two directions, and the Grimm were clearly headed towards them, so he and Thorne had split up to assist as best as they could, hopefully getting closer to their shared goal of drawing secrets out from someone else without them being shared and thus getting crossed out from each other’s submissions. There was a large hill with a peculiarly shaped series of standing stones not far from where they had split up - Argent had told her to return there when she was done with her own group so that they could form up again, having seen her compass and knowing that she could navigate the forest more easily than most others could. And so they had gone - Elena went after the Ursas, slower targets she could outrun, while he had gone after the Beowolf swarm, hoping that his speed in general would allow him to catch up - or escape if the situation turned to that.

Despite all that, however, the gunfire and yelling had stopped by the time he’d reached the approximate location, though it was clear that the other trainee would be fine, in no small part due to the majority of the Beowolf swarm immediately zeroing in on him when he’d launched a few Whispered arrows through their number from the safety of a tree branch. The chase had gone on for a while as he leapt from bough to bough, until he’d run out of trees that could support his weight and was forced to descend - but he’d been picking them off with Whispered knives throughout, which was enough that he could turn and confront the last survivor without fear of being blindsided.

His gaze stopped on another student, who called out to him and dropped down from the tree branch he’d been standing on shortly after. Argent waved back, just a little, nodded once, and gestured for him to follow.

“Yeah. I got six, but there’s probably as many coming in a few-”

A loud roar sounded from beside them as a pair of Ursa Minors burst through the treeline, cutting the Snake Faunus off mid-sentence, who instantly drew his swords again, backing away rapidly. It seemed like some of the other swarm had been attracted by the emotion they were giving off, but they were just Ursa. Slow, lumbering beasts, only a threat if they caught you.

Argent didn’t plan on getting caught.

“Go for the underbelly!” he shouted aloud, not taking his eyes off of the Ursa for more than a moment at a time, and only to scan the surroundings so they didn’t get ambushed by more Grimm coming in. Ouroboros keened as he joined it together at the pommel, the bowstring locking in as the pair of foes started to lumber their way closer.

“And stay out of their reach!”

WHISPER OF THE WYRM (SEMBLANCE): [RANK D]
SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: SPEED OF THE SCYLLA (SPEED) [RANK F]
SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: DANCE OF THE DRAGON (ACROBATICS) [RANK F]
SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: GLARE OF THE GORGON (MARKSMANSHIP) [RANK F]
OUROBOROS (WEAPON): [RANK F]

@ ● 753 words ● 753 total words

MADE BY MIZO

[Alexandros Skouriá]

The suddenness of it all managed to completely catch Alexandros off guard, who had no other choice than to reflexively back up as his new battle companion did much the same. Ursai were quite a step up from the mere beowolf he had seen the silver-haired stranger dispatch only moments before, but it was simply the nature of things; there would be no picking and choosing of foes out in the real world, after all, so he had no other choice than to create distance and ready Thrash in both hands. The duffel bag would almost assuredly weigh the boy down or otherwise hinder him, so Alex quickly took his left hand away from the gun to throw his supplies to the floor with a great big roll of the shoulder. I'll worry about that later, he told himself, and worry about this first.

From what he could tell, the two targets were roughly the same size; giant, bulky things they were, all muscle and rage underneath resilient armour. Even with all four shots placed into the gut of just one of the things, it was likely that their sickening adrenaline would keep them alive enough to go down fighting. It wasn't going to be easy, but at least one of the monsters would have to be his first kill. Alexandros took a breath as deep as he could afford, and used a foot to push his dumped baggage slightly further away. The two pairs had ample room to play with, though the students were decidedly boxed-in by comparison; the Grimm had ambushed them after all, and any number of them could ambush from any number of additional angles and blindspots. But that didn't matter. Right now, there were two ursai and two would-be heroes to slay them, so slay them they assuredly would.

"Go for the underbelly! And stay out of their reach!" the faunus advised.
"I'll try!" Alex offered back, all flustered and overwhelmed.
Alexandros fired Thrash with steady aim, placing a shot firmly in the upper body of one of the two attackers as it stood tall and roared. Not quite the underbelly, and not quite useful for the two students, but it was about the best he could muster under the layers of pressure and uncertain fear. The beast barely reacted to the slug as it pierced through its dark body, instead simply directing its full attention to the black-haired boy. Alex took a step to the side, breaking off from his battle partner, and then hurried further away to create distance as the first ursa minor leapt out for him. With a bit of luck the two of them could cover one another's weaknesses; Alexandros told himself this as his attacker approached, large and lumbering and almost disinterested, but knew that the help would end up much more one-sided than he would hope. Do what I can, he told himself, moving quick and low away from an opening swipe from the Grimm, but don't overdo it.

--

WC 501/1370

[Argent Steele]

I know you got hate in you. Most do. Trick is to use it, 'stead of it usin' you.
But you know this. Vengeance is a motivator, not the motive.

Don't hunt 'em 'cause you been wronged.
Hunt 'em 'cause what they did was wrong.
There's a world of difference there, kid.
One makes you selfish. The other makes you a hero.

And I see a hero in you.

❝

Having been separated from Elena and being without support save for the newcomer, the snake Faunus was faced with a slight dilemma. On the one hand, his body was heating up after that flight through the trees while flinging knives around to kill the Beowolves that had been chasing him - knives, he reflected with a touch of sourness, that hadn’t been cheap, even if he had bought in bulk. He didn’t always have the opportunity to pick them or his arrows up, but it still stung his wallet whenever he was forced to leave one behind. Leaving that behind, however - on the other hand, if he threw enough Aura behind Whisper of the Wyrm to ensure that he could take out the‌ Ursa without needing to move too much, it would be a substantial dip in his Aura levels. Taking the time to whittle down the Ursa with shots from his bow while evading its attacks ran the risk of him overheating and getting sluggish enough to make a mistake that could affect him for the rest of the day, but burning through his Aura to fire off his Semblance without pause probably wasn’t the best idea either this early in the day.

It wasn’t a decision he was especially enthused to make, but in the end, Argent decided to go with more liberal use of his Semblance, figuring that he could regenerate that later after he regrouped with Elena, whereas keeping his body from overheating now took priority in case more Grimm decided to show up and they were forced to run for it. The shorter boy went right, the snake Faunus went left, and the Ursa split up to mirror their movements. That was good - it meant that they could dictate the flow of the fight, rather than being forced to react to the two Grimm collapsing onto a single fighter in melee.

Dumb brutes.

Silver flared up around him as he drew and nocked a pair of arrows, the glow transferring to the projectiles as he loosed them. One shattered the bone mask of the Ursa in front of him and caused it to rear back. The other was supposed to hit it in the vulnerable underbelly after getting that opening - but Argent glanced to the side, noticed the Ursa approaching the other, and sent the second through the left knee from behind, forcing a stumble as the Grimm took a swipe at his temporary battle companion. The other probably could have dodged it, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Ursa were no joke, and could be deceptively fast if they got the chance to be.

There wasn’t much more he could do for the other, though, as the one whose mask he had shattered bellowed a roar and charged forward at him in a fury. Argent threw himself backwards, his feet moving confidently amongst the debris of the forest as he pulled another arrow from his quiver and fired it off, forcing the Ursa to block the shot to the underbelly with a bone armored paw. The bone on that shattered, too, and the snake Faunus couldn’t help but feel a grim sense of satisfaction at the damage he was doing even as he retreated to a safer distance.

He was getting stronger. Slowly, but surely.

WHISPER OF THE WYRM (SEMBLANCE): [RANK D]
SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: SPEED OF THE SCYLLA (SPEED) [RANK F]
SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: DANCE OF THE DRAGON (ACROBATICS) [RANK F]
SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: GLARE OF THE GORGON (MARKSMANSHIP) [RANK F]
OUROBOROS (WEAPON): [RANK F]

@ ● 550 words ● 1303 total words

MADE BY MIZO

[Alexandros Skouriá]

As Alexandros slinked and twisted away from the ursa's swing, an arrow screamed past. It was low to the ground, loosed with an intense speed, slicing right through one of the Grimm's knees from behind as it pressed ahead in its attack. It stumbled, half from the lunge and half from the archer's actions, showing for just a moment a sign of weakness. Right up close -- right in its face, having nearly had his own ripped right off -- it was confronting, and overwhelming, and nothing short of wonderful for the psyche of he who was facing hate incarnate for the very first time. He had seen the lone beowolf get absolutely obliterated by this other student, and now, seeing the giant black bear-thing momentarily stumbling, it raced through his mind just how mortal these monsters really were.

You could kill the Grimm. He was in the forest with the explicit goal of killing the Grimm, yet it only just then dawned on him how possible the task was.

No doubt about it, the silver-haired snake faunus was the more skilled fighter of the two, but it inspired something in the heart of the brawler. The ursa had been made to pause in the advent of the arrow, and was wide open for another hit. Alexandros would have to act quickly to make the best of it, so act quickly he did; still close from his low full-body slip, the brawler swerved back tall and threw a dirty great big uppercut with his left hand as he moved, straight to the jaw of the beast. It was needlessly telegraphed and carried far too much energy, but came out explosively as he had fully intended. Alex saw an opportunity to seize the moment, and something primal forced him to seize it. The punch rocketed upwards, the boy turning his body slightly to fully follow it through for the sake of more strength, and caused the Grimm to stagger back half a step and stand tall once more. This time, though, and if only for a brief moment, it wasn't in control. Fear subsiding and blood-pumping optimism rushing to take its place, Alexandros adroitly took a long and deliberate step backwards and made fly another shot from Thrash. His gun was low, steadied with only one hand, fired right by the hip like a real gunslinger. It struck square in the gut of the ursa, and the monster growled in frustration.

There was no stopping him now.

Thrash was slammed aside into its holster, and Alexandros leapt back into the fray from his little retreat, bringing heat with him by Bloomery across both his arms. He moved with haste, leaning and low as the Grimm psyched up for another attempt at a clawing slash; in the blink of an eye, the insignificant space between boy and bear was closed, punctuated by a burning haymaker from his right side thrown to where the second bullet hit. Alex had only just snuck past the attack as he did before, only now it was proactive in nature -- a decision to act that was his and his alone. He slammed his fist hard into the tower of anger, pushing and piercing and punching with all his might, letting out a very audible shout of exertion as it landed. Feeling a sense of control, he withdrew from range of the creature and loosely adopted his fighting stance.

With a quick glance to his side, he noticed the other student, still fighting with a proper weapon, sending shards of white armour flying away as an arrow lodged itself in the arm of the ursa. No use getting distracted; he still had his own foe to fight. With a clumsy shift of his Semblance to only his left arm -- an act which was unfamiliar, leaving much of the spent Aura to simply drift away into his reserves and offer no heat -- Alexandros pulled Thrash back into action and did his best to return the favour, with the second-to-last bullet available finding a new home in the thigh of the other Grimm. He had tried to aim for the knee, but between the angle and the constant movement of all four combatants, a higher hit was the best he could do. It wasn't nearly as dramatic or filled with stopping-power as the arrow, but it broke its foul focus just long enough for the snake faunus to make a move of his own.

--

WC 747/2117

[Argent Steele]

I know you got hate in you. Most do.
Trick is to use it, 'stead of it usin' you.

But you know this. Vengeance is a motivator, not the motive.
Don't hunt 'em 'cause you been wronged.
Hunt 'em 'cause what they did was wrong.
There's a world of difference there, kid.
One makes you selfish. The other makes you a hero.

And I see a hero in you.

❝

For the briefest of moments, Argent wondered if this was some sort of karmic justice for his own past involvement in causing others no small amount of headaches. No doubt Shin and Jade would find it amusing, considering how much he’d come to rely on them in the days before Haven - and, perhaps, Shadecloak, Nicholas, Colton, and the other members who’d gone with him on that fateful mission would get a good laugh out of it as well. For despite his specific instructions not stay out of its range, and in spite of the acknowledgement he’d from the other student himself that he had, in fact, clearly heard what the snake Faunus had said to him, what was originally intended to be an assist to give the other male student some breathing room and allow him to retreat safely had been taken as an opening to launch himself closer into the bear‌‌‌ Grimm’s range, smashing into it with force and fury. Some kind of Semblance was clearly at work here, to hammer the monster harder than mere Aura enhanced blows could, but it didn’t matter if he was battered to pieces from a blow with that beast’s prodigious strength.

His own Ursa continued to chase after him, and Argent continued to remain out of its reach, his attention forced to return to his own circumstances - perhaps others who were stronger could afford to let Grimm close the distance between them, but not him. He refused to be careless and overestimate his abilities - that way lay only destruction. No, he would whittle it down, cut it apart, piece by piece, and then return it to nothingness when it couldn’t keep up. That was the plan - safe, calculated, and with a large margin of error should anything go wrong, as things were liable to do when fighting the monsters that went bump in the night. That was the plan.

And then the Grimm stumbled as the sound of a gun going off echoed in the small clearing, and Argent was forced to change the plan. Instead of focusing on his own opponent, his Haven peer had decided to turn his attention to the Snake Faunus’ Grimm, and fired off a round at it, a round that had hit it in the thigh and only garnered the briefest of moments of recognition before the beast continued onward. To make matters worse, while the action was appreciated as much as the intent behind it, it meant that there was a moment of inattentiveness when there was an enemy right in front of him with much longer range than his own.

Ursa were surprisingly fast, when you allowed them to be.

The other student’s Ursa started to lunge, and Argent was forced to act. A simple twist of the hand, and Ouroboros separated into its constituent blades, both of which he threw away - the one in his left towards his own opponent, and the one in his right towards the other’s own. Silver flared up around them and him alike as he called on‌ Whisper - the left blade shot towards the ground, hit handle first, and bounced upwards, spinning like a top and accelerating far faster than it should have, at an angle that was nigh impossible to achieve. Under the Ursa’s guard it went, and plunged hilt deep into the beast’s vulnerable underbelly, which exploded into black smoke after a moment’s pause.

Argent’s attention, however, was on the second blade, wringing out every little bit of speed and power he could from his Semblance. In that moment and that time, the blade shot forward so fast that for a brief period all one could see was a streak of silver - and then the right blade planted itself in between the other Ursa’s shoulders with the force of a small cannon, the distinctive force of the thud that it made clear that it had sunk deep into flesh and hit bone. The Ursa reared back with a howl, exposing its vulnerable underbelly.

“Now!” he yelled across the space between them, hoping the same impulsiveness that had nearly gotten the other male caught but moments before would now serve to grab them victory instead.

WHISPER OF THE WYRM (SEMBLANCE): [RANK D]

SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: SPEED OF THE SCYLLA (SPEED) [RANK E]
SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: DANCE OF THE DRAGON (AGILITY) [RANK F]
SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: GLARE OF THE GORGON (MARKSMANSHIP) [RANK F]
SERPENT’S BENEDICTION: WINGS OF THE WYVERN (ACROBATICS) [RANK F]
SERPENT’S BENEDICTION: TALONS OF THE TARASQUE (MARTIAL ARTS)

OUROBOROS (WEAPON): [RANK F]

@ ● 697 words ● 2000 total words

MADE BY MIZO

[Alexandros Skouriá]

Once more the midnight-black bear lunged forward in hopes of landing a killing blow, and once more Alexandros was saved by the actions of the other Haven trainee.

His left arm, still as wrapped in as much heat as he could allow, was instinctively raised to try and shield himself from the blow. Not that it would do much good of course; a single arm had no hope of stopping a monster, all full of boiling rage and which wanted nothing more than to turn the brawler into a pretty pink smear on the forest floor, and had even less hope when one considered it wasn't even his stronger arm -- his right arm, the one now rather uselessly holding a handgun within striking range of a creature damn-near twice his own height. An opportunity had presented itself to Alex, and in his inexperience he took it without even a moment of thought. That advice from before, 'stay out of their reach', was good advice which he had cast aside at the drop of a hat to sneak in a single heavy punch. It simply wasn't worth it, and now he was going to pay the price.

The price was going to hurt.

At least, Alexandros thought as much. Without warning, one of the curved swords was sent flying fast and deep into the shoulder of the Grimm, embedding itself with enough force to throw the creature's focus out yet again, as the arrow had, and fracture off a chunk of bonelike white plating. The swipe still connected with the boy, knocking him backwards and away, but the sword's impact had done just enough to reduce the potential lethality of the attack; carried mostly by momentum, its giant bladed paw raked across the metal back side of his glove and deflected down his arm to the vulnerable flesh it did not protect, slashing a single huge gash as it went. From shock and from pain alike, his Semblance blinked and pulsed before eventually giving out, the heat surrounding his left arm fading fast from a lack of control. Blood was drawn nigh instantly, yet the ursa pulled back in a seemingly pained howl in the wake of a blade stabbed into its arm, where it would have otherwise surely continued in its assault.

Alex steadied himself as he was pushed away under the weight of the strike, glancing with wide eyes to the open wound as his life's essence slowly pooled and cascaded down to his elbow. Aura had strengthened him, and done much to lower the damage, but it was not enough to prevent the slash from outright opening him; Aura would need to heal it and close it over, but right now it simply wasn't a possibility.

"Now!" a voice commanded, from over to the left where one of two ursai were decaying and dying in the crisp late-morning air.

As the huge creature recoiled, the brawler saw yet another opportunity unfolding -- this time, however, it'd be different. An unsteady third shot was let loose from Thrash, finding a new home higher than the second yet still in the supposedly weaker part of the beast. It wasn't going to be enough, and Alexandros knew it well, and he was faced with the rather challenging prospect of making the fourth and final bullet hit where it mattered most. Left hand rapidly cooling as Bloomery fell away with the dripping of blood, he braced the revolver with both hands and used a crucial second or two to better adjust his stance and line everything up. Deliberately, and with as much fierce concentration as he had, the hammer was pulled back, and the last round fired directly into the Grimm's underbelly.

Alexandros let out a long and pained breath, and waited...

--

WC 631/2748

[Argent Steele]

I know you got hate in you. Most do.
Trick is to use it, 'stead of it usin' you.

But you know this. Vengeance is a motivator, not the motive.
Don't hunt 'em 'cause you been wronged.
Hunt 'em 'cause what they did was wrong.
There's a world of difference there, kid.
One makes you selfish. The other makes you a hero.

And I see a hero in you.

❝

Argent hadn’t been idle while he shouted, but even as he reached for a pair of his knives as he started into a forward sprint, the Ursa’s snarls of bloodlust and raged were strangled into silence by a pair of dual gunshots. The Snake Faunus slowed to a steady trot to scan the immediate area, making sure there weren’t any more surprises before hurrying on his way towards the injured student. There weren’t any more at the moment, but with someone bleeding out and all the morale damage and physical pain he would be going through once the adrenaline wore off, there would be a whole lot coming around soon. The two of them had to move, and fast.

“Stay there,” he ordered shortly as he came to a stop beside the other student, one hand already shifting the backpack off of his shoulders. He hadn’t expected to use the medical kit this early, especially not on someone other than himself. Truth be told, he was hoping not to have to use it at all, but such were things when it came to the life of a Huntsman.

“Arm,” was the demand as he crouched down, waiting a few moments for the other male to comply before taking things into his own hands and pulling the injured arm out so he could look over it with a critical eye. Long but not very deep, which was good. And it didn’t seem to have hit anything critical like bone or an artery, which was also good. Still, Ursa claws weren’t exactly the most clean of cutting implements. Probably best to run alcohol over it before bandaging, as he was taught in Doc's class.

“Use your other hand to grab here. Put pressure on the wound. Once the bleeding slows,‌ I’ll patch you up best as I can. And don’t panic, or you’ll bring the Grimm on us before we’re done. Understand?”

WHISPER OF THE WYRM (SEMBLANCE): [RANK D]

SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: SPEED OF THE SCYLLA (SPEED) [RANK E]
SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: DANCE OF THE DRAGON (AGILITY) [RANK F]
SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: GLARE OF THE GORGON (MARKSMANSHIP) [RANK F]
SERPENT’S BENEDICTION: WINGS OF THE WYVERN (ACROBATICS) [RANK F]
SERPENT’S BENEDICTION: TALONS OF THE TARASQUE (MARTIAL ARTS)

OUROBOROS (WEAPON): [RANK F]

@ ● 320 words ● 2320 total words

MADE BY MIZO

[Alexandros Skouriá]

Stance relaxing, the boy gave another long breath and slowly returned Thrash -- full of empty casings -- to the holster at his hip. Everything was over almost as quickly as it had started. Honestly, it seemed almost easy in the heat of the moment, but Alex knew it was largely due to the support he had received from... the stranger. He hadn't introduced himself on first making his presence known, and the snake faunus must not have thought to do so either.
"Uhm," he sputtered as the silver-haired youth came to his aid yet again, "thank you. I don't think we've met before. I'm Alexandros."

At an order to stay put and extend his arm, the black-haired brawler complied without hesitation. It was clear that the other student was far more mentally-prepared to handle the ordeal, and his taking charge of the situation did not bother Alex in the slightest. Instead, he glanced down to his left arm, beneath the metal plates which covered the backs of his hands and shortly extended over his wrists, to the large slash left after the battle. The Grimm had torn through the yellow ribbon affixed to just below the elbow, leaving it to fall to the forest floor faintly stained with blood. Fast as a flash of lightning from dark clouds, the claws of the ursa minor had made contact through his Aura and gashed a long open wound in their wake. The ribbon would need to be fixed up and tied back in place, as per instructions from Miss Shadecloak, but that was a lower priority than medical attention. Must have ripped it clean off, the boy mused, wincing, or cut it in half.

Following the guidance offered, Alexandros tightly held where instructed and waited for further indication on what to do. It was quite the tall order, not to panic or feel alarmed by what had transpired, but the boy summoned up the mental strength to do it. The other was right, after all: there would be no use in painting a target over their heads for the Grimm to come for another rousing round of violence, doubly so with an untreated wound afflicting one of the two. It was a wonder that his Aura hadn't engaged to play its own part of doctor, but Alex surmised it was busy keeping the rest of him in check or slowing the bleeding rather than sealing the cut over.
"There's a couple medical supplies in my bag too," he said, gesturing with a tilt of the head toward the large duffel bag, "you should take something from there so you're not without whatever you have to use now; it's only fair."

With nothing else to settle his mind on, Alexandros opted for another good look of the stranger, and spotted the coloured band. Not yellow like his own -- no, certainly not, not with the amount of skill on display -- but instead pink. He had been told of the red team, the Roses, but not of the pink team; the Orchids, he guessed, recalling the title announced for some other students before his own launch into the forest. "If there's anything I can do to help for your objective, then I'd like to help. I owe that much, at least."

--

WC 549/3297

[Argent Steele]

I know you got hate in you. Most do.
Trick is to use it, 'stead of it usin' you.

But you know this. Vengeance is a motivator, not the motive.
Don't hunt 'em 'cause you been wronged.
Hunt 'em 'cause what they did was wrong.
There's a world of difference there, kid.
One makes you selfish. The other makes you a hero.

And I see a hero in you.

❝

“Steele. Argent Steele.”

Argent took some time to unzip the bag and prepare the various tools he would need - some gauze, a bandage, and the alcohol solution that would disinfect wounds. The wound itself wasn’t so large as to require stitching, and pressure on it proper would stop the bleeding, but it would take time, and it wasn’t something he could rush even if he wanted to.

“I’ll do that,” he answered with a short nod, looking at the smaller male with a critical golden gaze. His first thought was to tell him how foolish that style of fighting was, but it would be counterproductive to tell the other not to panic and then proceed to scold him for his lack of common sense, which might cause the Grimm to come running anyway. Instead, the snake Faunus cleared his throat to catch the other’s attention, making sure to catch his gaze.

“Ursa are not Beowolves,” he said, glancing over to where the right half of Ouroboros was lying on the ground where it had dropped after the Ursa it was embedded in had disappeared into black smoke and nightmares.‌ He would collect it later, along with the second half of the blade that was lying similarly a good few meters away where he’d killed the other Ursa. He wasn’t unarmed, though - there were still the throwing knives on his thigh straps, and the arrows in the holster on his hip. Whisper could deal enough damage to kill a Beowolf in one blow, but there was something to be said about using his preferred bow rather than the various throwing implements he tried to keep in reserve. Turning back to Alexander, the snake Faunus continued his lecture.

“They are stronger.‌ More heavily armored. But also slower. Their underbelly is the weak spot - a good hit there can kill them just like the Beowolves. You have a revolver - use that in the future, aim for the belly, and don’t go into their range unless you have to. They strike fast, but they don’t move fast, so you can whittle them down safely from a distance if you have the ammunition.”

There was a small pause, during which Alexander offered his aid with Argent’s objective. Argent nodded, then nudged the hand putting pressure away from the wound and peeled back the flaps of cloth that used to be a whole sleeve to check that the bleeding had stopped before putting the gauze across the open bottle of the alcohol solution and upending it briefly before removing it. The white cloth now stank of alcohol and medicine, soaked as it was.

“Sure. But later. First, this. It’ll sting,” he warned, before swiping at the laceration with strong strokes, cleaning blood and debris away from it while disinfecting the area from germs. No doubt the alcohol would burn, but better to be safe than sorry, or have it infected later because he wanted to spare the other male some discomfort.

“What’s your Semblance?‌” Argent asked as he worked, in a bid to distract the other from what he was doing.

“Close ranged, I assume. Something that does damage on contact. Didn’t look like you were using a lot of extra force, either. Some sort of burning or corrosion ability?”

WHISPER OF THE WYRM (SEMBLANCE): [RANK D]

SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: SPEED OF THE SCYLLA (SPEED) [RANK E]
SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: DANCE OF THE DRAGON (AGILITY) [RANK F]
SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: GLARE OF THE GORGON (MARKSMANSHIP) [RANK F]
SERPENT’S BENEDICTION: WINGS OF THE WYVERN (ACROBATICS) [RANK F]
SERPENT’S BENEDICTION: TALONS OF THE TARASQUE (MARTIAL ARTS)

OUROBOROS (WEAPON): [RANK F]

@ ● 544 words ● 2864 total words

MADE BY MIZO

[Alexandros Skouriá]

"Thank you," the boy said again, "Argent."
Alexandros grit his teeth and winced, body stiffening briefly as the medical cleaning alcohol was applied to the gash on his arm. It was hellish and unpleasant, but hardly an unfamiliar sensation. He had had more than his fair share of scraps and scrapes growing up, and certainly more still in his studies and training before arriving at Haven. This, though, had a different kind of sting than the other times -- until now, his life had never been on the line. Though he had not come away from his first encounter with the monsters unscathed, he had come away from it alive and in good company. There was, of course, a highly likely chance that without assistance from Argent that the Skouriá boy would not be returning from his little day trip in the forest; had he been ambushed by the two ursai alone, four shots wouldn't have carried him to safety -- how could they have? -- and death would have surely taken him.

Yet, despite that dark reality lurking in his mind, he was at peace. The story doesn't end here, he told himself.

As if by some clairvoyant premonition, or simply coincidental timing, Argent spoke up as he continued his first-aid. The snake faunus had asked him about his Semblance, perhaps in a bid to better understand the move to striking distance with the Grimm. From an outside perspective -- and even the inside perspective as hindsight kicked in -- it was tremendously foolish, clearly driven by instinct rather than tactical forethought or logic, and it was only fair that he give a reason for the act. This other student was clearly knowledgeable, or at least experienced, when it came to the ursai-type monsters, with his statements about their surprising strength being more than backed-up by what had unfolded. His sole piece of advice was to stay at range, and Alex disregarded it on a whim; it certainly wasn't the sort of behaviour that painted him in an endearing or worthwhile light, but there was, if nothing else, a reason which drove the bad decision.

"Yeah; I can move my Aura around and heat it up for when I'm fighting. Only helps me up-close and it doesn't play nice with firearms, so right now it's always a choice between distance and power." It was a rather straightforward response considering the rather straightforward nature of the ability, but ultimately there was little more to be said. Argent had made an exceptionally accurate guess, leaving Alex no reason to go any further into detail. "Well," the boy spoke further, "what about yours? Something to do with the arrows, right?"

Of course it's something to do with the arrows, he scolded himself, though he dared not show the twinge of embarrassment that came with it.

--

WC 473/3770

[Argent Steele]

I know you got hate in you. Most do.
Trick is to use it, 'stead of it usin' you.

But you know this. Vengeance is a motivator, not the motive.
Don't hunt 'em 'cause you been wronged.
Hunt 'em 'cause what they did was wrong.
There's a world of difference there, kid.
One makes you selfish. The other makes you a hero.

And I see a hero in you.

❝

Argent nodded in response twice - first to the second round of thanks given to him by Alexandros, and then again when the human asked him if it had something to do with the arrows he’d fired earlier.

“Yeah. I can change the power and direction of things in motion, as long as I’ve touched them. Doesn’t matter if it’s a throwing knife or an arrow, or even a ball or stick - if it’s moving, I can control how fast or how slow it goes.”

Having finished wiping away the blood and debris around the wound, the snake Faunus fanned it with the packaging of a sterile piece of gauze until the alcohol had dried before tearing it open and applying said gauze to the wound, followed by bandaging the area and tying a firm knot over it. Normally, he would roll up a sleeve before doing this, but most instructions were assuming that the person in need of medical attention had either no Aura unlocked, or had had their Aura shattered before being wounded. In this case, with Alexandros’ Aura still present and unbroken, the wound would heal much faster than if he were some random shmuck off the street, so it was probably a better idea to keep the bandage in a place where the human could remove it easily at a later time, and so that it wouldn’t get in the way when he did.

“I give it two to four hours before that heals,” said the snake Faunus, straightening up and looking over his handiwork with a nod of satisfaction. “More if you get your Aura below ten percent. Try to avoid that, and keep using your revolver if you can, instead of your Semblance. Swinging too hard might cause the wound to open up again, and it’ll be harder to fix a second time.”

Getting to his feet, Argent offered the other male a hand up, then went to retrieve Ouroboros. The two halves of the weapon were a distance from each other, but he raised his voice and kept talking even as he went to each and dusted off the detritus of the forest that had gotten on them, cleaning each blade off on a pant leg before sheathing them on his hips.

“If your Semblance is Aura based, you should find a melee weapon that suits you and see if you can channel your Semblance into it. Maybe a short sword to go with your revolver, if you want to maintain flexibility over raw power. Might not seem like much, but every bit of reach helps, whether it’s fighting against bandits or Grimm.”

Having gotten his swords and the arrows he’d fired off earlier from the clutches of the forest floor, the Faunus trainee headed back to his counterpart, pointing towards the direction where he remembered the rally point for himself and Elena was.

“We should keep moving, unless you’ve already got some place to shore up for the rest of the day. I’ve got a partner, but we had to split up earlier. We had a meeting point not far from here, so that’s where I’m headed. You?”

WHISPER OF THE WYRM (SEMBLANCE): [RANK D]

SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: SPEED OF THE SCYLLA (SPEED) [RANK E]
SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: DANCE OF THE DRAGON (AGILITY) [RANK F]
SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: GLARE OF THE GORGON (MARKSMANSHIP) [RANK F]
SERPENT’S BENEDICTION: WINGS OF THE WYVERN (ACROBATICS) [RANK F]
SERPENT’S BENEDICTION: TALONS OF THE TARASQUE (MARTIAL ARTS)

OUROBOROS (WEAPON): [RANK F]

@ ● 525 words ● 3389 total words

MADE BY MIZO

[Alexandros Skouriá]

"Not a bad job of patching me up," he said through a hint of a smirk. The adrenaline was fading now, but the tell-tale signs of his fighting fervour would almost certainly remain for a little while longer. Though he carried no animosity on his words or through his body language, his face still wore an expression best described as a mix of steely frustration, or the bottling of anger, and intense concentration; combat was serious business, especially now that it was all real danger, and his guard would not drop simply in the advent of two Grimm being killed. Staying alert and staying alive would go hand-in-hand, and for this very reason Alexandros did not break focus on everything surrounding him. The trees gently rustled and swayed about in a light breeze, birdsong faintly rising in the distance after being abruptly silenced by gunfire. The late morning air was cool and comfortable, though laced now with the uncomfortable reality of battle.

The two stood by one another for a moment. Alex directed his attention all around in a methodical and sweeping circle, trying to look for any further signs of danger. It seemed like they were in the clear, at least for a little while. With some exaggerated stretches and movements of his left arm, the boy looked over the bandaging and tapped at himself with his other hand; still a bit of a sting, of course, but even now it was feeling slightly better. Then, he set his sights on the duffel bag still dumped to the forest floor; he was out of ammo, wasn't he?

The boy crouched back down in place where he stood and collected the two halves of his team-designating band, then wandered over to his supplies and opened the bag where it sat. Argent did much the same, picking up the two sword-halves of his war bow and throwing out advice as he went. Certainly knowledgeable, the boy found himself thinking again, and perking up at the suggestions offered from his fellow student. A sword -- or any melee weapon, really -- wasn't a bad idea, but there was certainly a lack of skill and discipline which would hinder his fighting with much more than fists and feet.
"I've thought about it," Alexandros said as he poked through his bag for one of the two ammo boxes within, grabbing a fistful of his typical high-caliber rounds -- maybe six or so -- and loading Thrash with four, "but nobody ever taught me how to fight with that sort of thing. Or, rather, I never went to anybody who could teach me. Besides, this gorgeous little nightmare means a lot to me; I'm not looking to spend quality time with anything else when I could be improving with Thrash, you know?"

He held the now-loaded revolver dramatically and high above his head with a grin to Argent, fully embracing how needless the whole affair was. The snake faunus had raised a good point concerning future combat strategies and effectiveness, but the brawler felt it necessary to disagree and over-explain it all anyway. Three years had been dedicated to improving his physical ability, and it seemed that today was going to be the day to finally put it all to the test. In his mind, achieving a success with little more than his body, wits, and an old handgun would be a definitive sign to improve further, while a failure would give cause to re-evaluate. He was distracted by these thoughts, but promptly snapped back to attention when his new companion mentioned it was time to press on.

Resupplied and reinvigorated, the boy placed the unloaded shots away and sealed the bag before he stood, bringing it up with him and then over a shoulder. Thrash soon found itself in its usual home, holstered away at his hip, and Alexandros gave a small nod to indicate he was ready to travel onward with Argent.

"Right now, I'm just wandering," Alex said, adjusting the strap sitting over his shoulder. "If you don't mind, I might just take you up on that offer and tag along. There's nowhere in particular I need to be, so it'd be nice to have some company -- at least for a little while, that is. I still owe you some help, too; you didn't mention what your group's criteria for passing was."

--

WC 731/4501

[Argent Steele]

I know you got hate in you. Most do.
Trick is to use it, 'stead of it usin' you.

But you know this. Vengeance is a motivator, not the motive.
Don't hunt 'em 'cause you been wronged.
Hunt 'em 'cause what they did was wrong.
There's a world of difference there, kid.
One makes you selfish. The other makes you a hero.

And I see a hero in you.

❝

"If you had kept your distance from those Ursa, you wouldn't need patching up."

Argent's initial response was dry, but lacked the malice or force that someone of rougher temperament might have injected into their tone. There was a glance over to the other male, however, when he mentioned that he wasn't looking to improve with anything other than what must be the name of his revolver. Trash seemed like an apt name indeed, but the snake Faunus chose to defer comment on that particular aspect of what the other had said, just in case he'd heard wrongly. Instead, he focused on the other aspects of what Alexandros had said, frowning slightly.

The main and most outstanding problem with what the other male had said was that his Semblance and choice of weaponry were not only non-complimentary, but actively detrimental to each other. From what he had said, it was clear that said Semblance reacted poorly with the propellant in the bullets that most firearms used, and he had also watched Alexandros hastily shove his revolver back into a holster before closing in for a punch with the same hand. Not only was it a highly telegraphed move that would give a competent opponent time to evade or capitalize on the opportunity, it also meant that he was fighting at half capacity at any given time - the gun, or his heat enhanced fists. Perhaps Argent wasn't in any position to criticize or offer advice, but it was clear that while the other had trained himself with both the revolver and in a brawling style that focused on close ranged melee strikes with his own fists, he was inexperienced with fighting Grimm, and hotblooded enough to take risky opportunities that had a low chance of paying off. The snake Faunus mulled it over, wondering the best way to approach the subject as they began walking.

"Sure, let's go. My group's passing criteria is information. We need five pieces of it to pass, and all of them have to be different from what other Orchids have. So, I'd be fine with any secrets you want to toss my way. That is, ones that you're okay with not telling anyone else, of course."

There was a short pause as Argent glanced over, then held out a hand, though this one was more questioning and less demanding than the last time he had done the same.

"Your gun - Trash, I believe you said its name was. May I have a closer look at it?"

WHISPER OF THE WYRM (SEMBLANCE): [RANK D]

SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: SPEED OF THE SCYLLA (SPEED) [RANK E]
SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: DANCE OF THE DRAGON (AGILITY) [RANK F]
SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: GLARE OF THE GORGON (MARKSMANSHIP) [RANK F]
SERPENT’S BENEDICTION: WINGS OF THE WYVERN (ACROBATICS) [RANK F]
SERPENT’S BENEDICTION: TALONS OF THE TARASQUE (MARTIAL ARTS)

OUROBOROS (WEAPON): [RANK F]

@ ● 420 words ● 3809 total words

MADE BY MIZO

[Alexandros Skouriá]

A snide remark, certainly, but one that wasn't unwarranted, for it was plainly and simply true. Had he been less impulsive, Alexandros would not have needed alcohol and bandages applied to the wound on his arm, as there would be no wound in need of healing; it was squarely his fault, and Argent was rather fairly -- though sarcastically -- pointing it out. The moment, as insignificant as it was in the grand scheme of things, would assuredly stick with Alex for future dealings with the creatures of Grimm. Stay away to stay alive; it was obvious, but it was going to be supremely difficult considering his ability to keep distance hinged on four chances and four chances alone. Maybe he could keep some spare ammunition in a pocket, but that'd probably just create more problems than it solved...

"Your gun," Argent said, reaching out a hand, "Thrash, I believe you said its name was. May I have a closer look at it?"
"Sure, if you want," Alex said back, "just be careful with it."

The boy reached down to his hip as the two walked, pulling the monster of crudely formed metal out for the other to see in all its not-quite glory. With a degree of patience that could be afforded as they moved away from danger, Alex unlatched Thrash and broke it open in a slow and smooth motion around its pivoting point; the extractor rose from the heart of the cylinder as the grip and hammer section pulled away in an arc from the rest of the revolver, bringing the four newly-loaded shots up with it. The boy was unlucky it seemed, as even with a methodical and gentle working of the action, the extractor seized midway through its climb from out the heart of the firearm. With a tap and a rattle of the gun in his hands, each round eventually spilled out and into the waiting cradle of an arm below. It was a slightly awkward action, but one which ultimately had the desired effect. Unloaded and opened, Alexandros fumbled the four shots into a pocket and passed over Thrash to Argent -- though not before quickly closing and re-opening it to correct the minor fault.

"It's from the war, you know," he added, unprompted, watching intently as the other took Thrash into his own hands. "It still works too. Has a couple, uh, 'quirks' to it, but it gets the job done."

He thought for a moment, about the task given to Argent -- and by extension, the third team as a whole. Information of any sort, especially of a secret nature, would not be the easiest thing in the world to obtain; people had their memories and insecurities which they guarded all the way into the grave, meaning that anybody who found themselves in the company of an Orchid would offer up something far more innocuous to share. This in turn presented difficulty, as, by the sound of things, duplicates of recorded information would actively punish all parties involved and interfere with the passing of the examination. It was a strange thing, really, and much more complicated than the tasks given to the Rose and Dandelion teams. Assisting others in the field and killing monsters were straightforward tasks, but to probe into the minds of fellow students was a completely different beast. What can I say? he wondered.

Alexandros watched intently, nervously darting his eyes back ahead every so often to make sure he didn't walk into any obstructions along the way.
"I still don't know whether I'm ready to handle this sort of thing," the boy said after a brief silence, still staring at his own weapon in Argent's hands. "A few years ago, I came out here, and that was when I discovered that I had a Semblance. I thought it must have been some sort of message from on-high to do good things with my life -- you know, fate, or whatever -- so that's what made me start training and learning how to fight, and how to better handle Thrash. But now that I'm actually here, part of me is starting to think that this is a mistake. You saw for yourself, I'm no good with orders -- too twitchy and focused on the immediate stuff rather than thinking ahead. You could probably write that down as something about me, if you wanted to. I know it's not much, but... well, it's something."

--

WC 745/5246