[Deleted]

Ryan plan for the initiation should have been a pretty easy one to do. Land in the forest. Call to be hauled back. Even if he failed, he didn't particularly care about the "punishment" and did the launching thing out of obligation. Problem one to his plan was that he lost his scroll after landing. How? Don't ask him because he has no idea. He just knows that when he searched said damn scroll, it wasn't nowhere to be seen. Instead of making a fuss about it, he simply retorted to plan B. Which consisted of him finding a quiet, secluded place to wait out the 24 hours the initiation was supposed to last.

But once again, luck wouldn't be on his side. After finding shelter in a cave he found, he found himself having his ass chased by an Ursai that just had to call that cave It's home. After the initial scare, which made him let out a scream that he will never admit to having done, he activated his Semblance and ran away with the tail tucked between his legs. And stopped when he was sure that a good couple of kilometers were separating them.

Settling down in another place, it would be mere minutes before he once again was being chased by an Ursai. Running away, he would once again settle before being chased. This game of cat and mouse had been going on for quite some time and Ryan, who had stopped using his Semblance after the sixth time to save Aura and stamina, was growing increasingly wary of this and had started to wonder why wasn't he fighting the damn thing.

Why was it so fucking persistent in chasing him, anyway?

Not that it mattered now, after losing the Ursai that was once again chasing him, he would- All sort of conscious thoughts left his mind as his instincts suddenly took over. Rolling under a sweep of a standing Ursai that appeared out of nowhere sent his way. He stood up and activated his Semblance to create space between this sudden foe. He then looked back, to see if the Ursai was close, only to crash head-on against a tree at full speed. Unsteadily stepping back a couple times, he collapsed flat to the ground as a sudden and overwhelming dizziness filled his brain. As his consciousness slowly disappeared, he cursed at himself for not paying attention and wondered from where the hell had that second Ursai came from.

But elsewhere within his mind, he wondered if this was going to be his end. And, if it truly was, he could already hear his father scolding him for not being good enough after all.

---

Word Count: 450
Total Count: 450

[Alexandros Skouriá]

An alarm, every two hours.

It had sounded a short while ago, now, and the Skouriá boy considered it his cue to break off from Argent. The faunus and Alex had gotten along rather well -- he thought so, at least -- after fighting off Grimm together, though there was a certain air of annoyance in the immediate wake of their combat. Argent had, after all, closed and bandaged up a wound delivered by one of the two ursai, punctuated by pointed and precise suggestions to fight better against the creatures. Advice like that was well worth hearing, and it had given the brawler much to think about, but it would be quite some time before any of it could even be tested or put into action in a controlled environment. There was a more pressing matter at hand, anyway: survive. So far it had been easy-ish-enough, but the finish line was still many hours away; time seemed somehow drawn out and exponentially faster simultaneously, each and every second in the forest of Haven requiring constant attention and an active guard, while the cumulative hours stretched on toward infinity.

The boy was aimlessly wandering yet again, on the lookout for any sign of other students. On the inside of it all, below the canopy which covered much of the forest, the world seemed implausibly large; in Alex's mind, the chances of running into anybody else were slim to non-existent at best, but he had already had some luck in finding a fellow trainee. With no plan, and nowhere in mind to go to, he found himself in a particularly rough and uneven patch of earth and green, all overgrown and dark beneath tall trees that eclipsed the afternoon sun. Tiny pinpricks of light pierced the scarce few openings the coverage of leaves provided, painting the forest floor like stars in the dark of night. Must be one of the older parts of the forest, Alexandros convinced himself, pausing for a moment to scan out a potential path through it all.

Time, it seemed, was not on his side.

A now-familiar roar made the presence of monsters known to Alexandros; Grimm. It was almost identical to the earlier roars made by the ursa minors he and Argent dispatched upon meeting, and for this reason the brawler firmly decided it was time to act. Beowolves were pack hunters, and ursai moved in pairs; this much he knew for certain from his introductory classes with the academy, thus this much and this much alone he needed to begin moving. Where there was one roar, there could just as easily be a second, and whoever the unfortunate soul was staring the beasts down may not have been as capable and confident as the silver-haired lad from before. Though the assistance the Skouriá boy would be able to offer would not be the best -- far from it -- it would be assistance all the same.

Steadying the bag across his bag with one hand and drawing Thrash with the other, Alex quickly moved into a jog toward the rough direction the sound had come from. The word below was inhibitive of fluid movement, a mess of brambles and mossy stones and exposed tree roots, but it did not matter; he would force his way toward the sound. Darting and twisting, and eventually bursting through a gap in the ages-old tree trunks, he saw the beast... but not before seeing the target its evil eyes were set upon. A tower of a man, moving swift, driving himself square into one of the unmoving wooden sentries of the forest. He collided with the tree, stumbled back, and collapsed down into the dark.

"Get up!" Alexandros cried out, throwing his duffel bag against the base of a nearby tree and sprinting over to the fallen youth, passing Thrash from his right hand to his left as he went. With a deft leap, the brawler crossed from one side of the man to the other, then crouched low and gripped him by the forearm. With an almighty heave, the tiny fighter pulled his fellow student up from the forest floor, giving a final and forceful pull to set him upon his own two feet. The monster, outraged at the sudden appearance of competition, let loose another roar of rage, and readied itself for the forthcoming fight.

"Stay focused," Alex commanded, hypocritical through a hurried scan of the environment, "and stay back if you can! You have to aim for the underside, that's the weak part!"

Just do as Argent did, he told himself, and this will all be fine.

--

WC 771/771

[Deleted]

When a slice of consciousness returned at him. Ryan noticed that two things weren't exactly ok. First of all, he was still alive -Wait, isn't that a good thing?- Second of all, he was standing, supported against a tree, but standing nonetheless. Not exactly a bad thing, but he does remember being in a not exactly upright position before dozing off. And third of all, who the fuck was screaming so loud?! Couldn't he, or she for all he knew, see that his head was hurting a fucking lot?!

"-underside, that's the weak part!" What the hell was this guy talking about. Against his better judgement, Ryan slightly opened his eyes, wincing at the sudden light on them, and focused in the beast a couple meters in front of him. Was that an Ursai? Oh, those fuckers! They had ruined his plans for the initiation and dragged him into his current situation. Slowly unsheating Aarden, he focused as best as he could in his current state and charged forwards, aided by his Semblance, at the dammed beast with an ear-splitting roar that did no good to his current headache.

Once within the range of Aarden, he would try to insert the blade as deep as it could within the cursed filthy motherfucker's belly that had been giving him chase for hours. After trying to avoid any attacks it may send its way. If it worked and he pierced the hide, he would then do a upwards slash with all his might he could muster and try to gut the bastard. If it didn't worked... Well... he would cross that bridge once he got there.

---

Word Count: 269
Total Count: 719

[Alexandros Skouriá]

Fear flashed across his eyes as it all unfolded.

Swaying on long legs, the other student made an attempt to steady himself before acting. A sword was drawn from a scabbard at his hip, braced by both hands, and brought forth the faint and unmistakable glow of Aura. With blistering speed, he charged forth, and Alexandros could do nothing but watch in utter disbelief at the sight of it. Straight underneath the Grimm's guard the man sailed, driving the sword deep into its inky underbelly almost to the hilt; this wasn't enough, however, as a giant rising crescent cut was carved up and through the beast only a fraction of a second after. So that's what it looked like, Alex thought for a short moment, finding himself taking a few short steps forward.

In a stance fit for shooting, Alex gripped Thrash and lined up a shot as best he could. The sheer speed of the opening attack had done much to throw the creature off-guard somewhat, creating an opening to act. The battle of only some two hours before replayed rapidly in his head, hanging on his own blind charge into melee range, and the painful swipe which followed it. History had a tendency to repeat, he had realized, and realized with it a sign that the ursa was preparing a mighty counter-attack for the swordsman standing right afore its scarlet eyes. The motion was masked somewhat by a reflexive recoil from the blade piercing its gut, but it seemed impossible to confuse for anything else. Its roar lowered to a grumble and a growl, and one arm was raised high to come crashing down.

With no better targets, a shot was fired and placed into the upper-arm of the monster, and a second much more squarely into the stark white plating covering its head. Neither would hurt the thing much, but they would afford an opportunity to withdraw from such critical distance and determine a suitable course of action. As each bullet slammed into the thing, it staggered and stalled in place ever so slightly, the bright red glow in its eye sockets darting back and forth between the obvious threat directly ahead and the annoyance hammering away from afar.
"Pull back!" Alex called again, giving a quick look over his shoulder to the duffel bag -- his critically important supplies -- up against a tree. "We need to work together, quick!"

--

WC 404/1175

[Deleted]

His plan, as it seemed to happen with all of his ideas, didn't end up working. He did stab the beast, he did end up cutting upwards. But said damn Grimm was still standing. Well, time to put- Two powerful shots hit the Ursai in both its raised paw, something that would've had hit Ryan otherwise, and its plated face. Instead of the usual thankful thoughts that surface when someone saves your life, Ryan head was filled with sarcastic "Can't that motherfucker fire louder?!" sort of thoughts.

Leaping back after taking Aarden out the beast, he realized midair the mistake he committed, given that when his feet unsteadily touched the ground he tripped, and collided the back of his head with the same tree. What dizziness had subdued returned in full force, now accompanied with ringing in his ears and a feeling of bile rising through his throat. Swallowing it down, he supported himself as best as he could against the tree to not fall down as words, spoken words, left his mouth before his brain could even process, and stop, the mistake he was committing.

"Go away," he muttered as the Grimm roared once again. His voice, once the melodious voice of a singer, had turned into a guttural and hoarse one by the months of disuse. Once he regained his full mental capacity, if he survived obviously, he would sorely regret this hell of a mistake. But right now, he had other priorities. Like not having an unfortunate guy die because of his sheer incompetence.

Though, after they're done with the Ursai, he could maybe kill the guy and say that a Grimm did it? Well, problems for future Ryan.

---

Word Count: 282
Total Count: 1001

[Alexandros Skouriá]

With a stumble away and to the side, Alexandros watched as the tall student collided with the tree once more. It was from a huge back-step, this time, the force slamming from behind and certainly incurring much more dizziness. An escape, certainly, but one which hadn't made things any better for the two of them; the wicked bear was still standing, and the combined strength of their attacks had seemingly done nothing. Without some quick thinking, this was going to end badly. The boy gave another look over to his bag, then to the dazed student, then to the revolver in his hands. Two shots, he told himself, and then I'm out.

This was going to be a problem, but not one without a solution. Ursa number one readied itself to lumber forward, while mystery ursa number two was nowhere to be found; really, the only options available were to stick it out and try to kill one before another took its place, or to retreat -- a far more lucrative idea, Alex decided, given the circumstances and element of surprise the enemy could call upon at a moment's notice. While he was certain that, between the two of them, the thing could eventually be killed, it was far too much of a gamble placed far too much on perfection of execution and perfection of circumstance. As it was, neither side held a strong advantage over the other, but it was clear all the same that team human would eventually become outmatched. Yet again, Alexandros remembered the previous battle alongside Argent Steele, and he found himself dearly sorry to be without such astute assistance. Fretting about the not-so-distant past, however, would help nobody -- the brawler's mind was racing, and the other's was sure to be rattling around on the inside of his skull.

Time to move.

He set off running only a few steps ahead, toward the tall student, Thrash's hammer pulled and ready to punch out a third shot in the blink of an eye. Throwing his weight down, out through his body toward the earth below, Alexandros shifted his momentum and prepared himself in-place to act and move again. With his left hand, he reached out and grabbed the other would-be huntsman around the wrist of his sword hand, then aimed a shot to the canopy of branches and leaves hanging over their battlefield. One shot -- luck, more than anything -- brought a tangled cluster of greenery down upon the Grimm's head, stopping it briefly as it moved with killing intent. It would do nothing to harm the thing, of course, but that wasn't the idea; all Alex needed to do, he thought, was annoy it for just long enough to run.

Pressing away, springing back from where he stood while still holding onto the other student of Haven, he moved. It took a rather awkward and uncomfortable twist of the body to get moving, but comfort mattered far less than living to tell the tale. In no more time at all, and without daring to look back, Alexandros powered forward and holstered his revolver as he moved. A handful of long and desperate strides were closed -- the last obstacle between the black-haired boy and his gear -- and with an enormous sweeping scoop of his newly-free right arm, the duffel bag was ripped away from the ground and hastily thrown across his shoulder.
"We need to go," Alex said, guiding the other on an improvised path away from the danger, "or it's all over."

--

WC 590/1765

[Deleted]

After the third shot had been fired. Ryan's head was livid by the persistence of the guy in making loud noises when he literally could feel his head splitting open thanks to a headache. Feeling himself being grabbed by the wrist his first instict was to resist. But, even though he was furious with the guy, in his current state there was nothing he could do rather than letting himself being lead by. And even though he was barely conscious right now, he was being careful of not dropping Aarden by accident.

Letting himself be lead away, Ryan barely registered what was happening on his sorrounding as they jogged/sprinted away from the Ursai through the forest. But with every step, his head seemed to get worse. Was his Aura not doing any fucking good to try to heal whatever the fuck had happened up there? He didn't know how much time, or distance, passed. But once the other guy let him free, what Ryan did first was to sheat Aarden, and lean, then collapse, against a tree.

Panting heavily, a guttural laugh emanated from his belly as his mind finally gave up under the stress. Like if this would work! This guy... this guy seriously thinks it will! Letting a smile break even more his masquerade. He spokes through bouts of hysterical laughter.

"This... this will not work! They'll find us... They always do... They've been chasing me for hours! They'll find us eventually! They always do! They always fucking do!"

---

Word Count: 252
Total Count: 1,253

[Alexandros Skouriá]

They had gotten away... for now, at least. One Grimm, maybe more, would not be far behind.

Alexandros released his guiding grip on the tall student, who immediately used the brief window of calm to collapse against a nearby tree and regain what little stamina their resting could offer. It was painfully, dreadfully clear that he was tired beyond all belief, but there was little which Alex could do to help. The brawler threw his supplies down to the ground once more and dropped to a knee, unzipping and beginning his search through; munitions for him, and water for the other one.

"This... this will not work! They'll find us... They always do," the other had started to ramble through nervous laughter, with a voice that sounded like sandpaper to the ears -- all breathless and hoarse and almost uncertain, as if the very idea of speech was escaping him. Further still, he spoke, through continued laughter: "They've been chasing me for hours! They'll find us eventually! They always do! They always fucking do!"
"Oh, for- just- hey, just listen, alright?!" Alexandros snapped back, breaking Thrash open at its pivoting point and letting three of four shots tumble out. They were promptly replaced with fresh unspent rounds and the revolver made whole again, as the black-haired boy gave an ineffectual glance over his shoulder only a moment after. "If you keep this panic going, you'll bring far more monsters here than just that one; in fact, I'd wager there's a second ursa not all that far away."

Alex stood, holstered the gun back at his hip, and poured some water from his canteen into the steel measuring cup he had packed away ahead of the launch. "Drink this," he said, much quieter than anything he said thus far, "and just stay calm, if you can. Alright?"
Deliberately -- perhaps even just a little condescendingly, he realized in immediate hindsight -- and slowly, he held out the tiny little serving of water, ensuring the other student was holding it steady before backing off a few paces and looking back in the direction they had come. There was no doubt that the two of them had been followed by the damn thing, but it was simply a matter of time now; it was just a matter of waiting however many crucial seconds for the mass of shadows to appear from the path freshly taken, and then acting quick once more.

"Let me finish the first Grimm off. You just rest like you are now, and don't get all worked-up again; I know it's not helpful advice, but just breathe, and focus, and don't let this get to you. These things can be put down with enough effort, so I'll be damned if the both of us drop before one of them -- especially after that hit with the sword."

Shuffling and sliding into stance, Alexandros drew a long breath and brought forth Bloomery along both his arms and legs. Fallen leaves and twigs below were set smoking where he stood as the heat climbed to a stable level fit for fighting. Come and get me, he taunted on the inside with a lick of the lips and a narrowing of his eyes to where the beast would surely come.

Let's see if hate can kill hope.

--

WC 554/2319

[Deleted]

It was in these moments of calm that Ryan's mind made him wonder. Why in the living fuck isn't he fighting? How many times has he fought Grimm on his life? Granted, those fights were under the direct supervision and feedback from his father. But still, he had fought these damn monsters since an age where the rest of the student body were most likely still wondering how to use the damn toilet. Then why?! Why had he run through the entire initiation? Why had he never stopped to at least skirmish with the beasts to show them he was no easy prey? To at least make them think twice of following him?!

'You'll never be nearly as good as your brother. He has a natural talent for this. You? I'll be amazed if you survive your first year at Haven. Be grateful to have Aarden's shadow to hide into,' A scoff resounded through the otherwise silent room. 'I can't believe the blood of generations of warriors course through your veins. You're a failure of a Vas when compared to Aarden. So at least do me and our family a favor, and try to not get my son killed tomorrow.'

That night. The night before that dammed day were his father finally let him and Aarden have a Grimm-fighting session where he wouldn't be overseeing. It went just as good as it sounds. Touching the protruding scar tissue on his chest through his clothes, he tried to force back the memories assaulting him, after all this wasn't the most ideal of times, but it was to no avail. It had been a snowy forest somewhere in Mistral where he had failed his brother and nearly got both killed. It had been in that forest where he broke his leg and got his scar. It had been thanks to that leg that Aarden went to Haven alone. Thanks to it he was now facing the world... alone. Had this been why he didn't fight the Grimm? Because he was alone?

Whatever reply he could have gotten out of himself was quickly pushed back as a faint sound of something rustling back him reached his ears. But his voice stopped dead on his throat as his consciousness started to leave him yet again. He had to alert the guy. How? It didn't matter, he had to. Slowly separating himself from the tree, he stumbled towards him. But it ended up being fruitless since his body finally gave up under the dizziness midway through. As he fell, he prayed that the sound of him crashing against the ground would alert the guy and make him turn around before whatever the hell was behind him did its move.

---

Word Count: 454
Total Count: 1,647

[Alexandros Skouriá]

Two distinct sounds, neither one of them suggesting good fortune: from behind, a dull thud as the tall boy collapsed in a heap on the forest floor, and from straight ahead a growling roar as their chasing assailant suddenly reappeared to strike.

Alexandros stepped forward, gritting his teeth, moving low and swift and shifting his profile askew to one side, battering away a swipe from the ursa with the backside of his left arm as he closed the distance. A definite sting of pain rushed through his left side and across his body as the heavy paw struck hard against the armoured glove, though it was far better for him than the earlier attempt alongside Argent. The brawler pulled his left arm back with a roll of the shoulder, tightly balling a fist as he slipped past the guard of the Grimm, letting fly an enormous cross from his otherwise-usually-leading arm; straight ahead, all full of stopping power and highly-concentrated anger, the punch cut through the air and found its mark not terribly far from where the other's sword had slashed. Bloomery enhanced the brutally simplistic attack, in the way it was wholly designed by destiny to do, branding the beast with a faint -- though visible -- impression of glowing red and burnt ashy white. Standing his ground, firmly planting himself with a solid stance beneath the hulking shadow, Alex acted further, and quickly. Another punch came rocketing out, this time from the right, delivered as a hook into the underbelly with all the strength the boy could possibly generate. His fist drove hard into the oily black, and, after only a brief and dramatic moment's pause, sunk through.

The ursa shattered and splintered around his right arm, spraying small dark particles out into the air as the blow travelled all the way through what was once the body of an approximation of a bear. Alexandros pulled back on three great retreating strides, watching with wide eyes as the Grimm toppled over and began to further break down.

That's one, he silently counted, so one to go.

He gave a long look down to the monster, every part of his body screaming out in a cocktail of fear, and pride, and rage, and overwhelming joy. There was no time to be wasted, however, for team hunter and team darkness were suddenly on rather equal footing. Alexandros could still fight, but so could a second ursa which was yet to show itself; hardly a victory, he found himself thinking, shaking the stiffness out of both his hands to pull his mind back into the moment.
Alex turned, halfway lowering his guard, setting his sights on the other student. This whole thing was turning into an absolute shitshow of unstoppable proportions, yet it was a shitshow he had no choice but to see through to its end. It was one thing to pull somebody back up to their feet while they were dazed, but trying to do the same thing for somebody who seemed to be well-and-truly knocked out from exhaustion was not the sort of thing the boy was comfortable with -- certainly not in the presence of bloodthirsty monsters, at least. With trepidation, and with Bloomery still roaring along his arms and legs, the young Skouriá edged closer and closer, trying to better make sense of the situation. The difference in height, and in weight that would come with it, rendered trying to carry or pull the other to safety a sheer impossibility. Indeed, both of them would be here for at least a little while longer yet, and there was simply nothing which could be done to change that.

Then, from behind the tree the other had only just fallen away from, another sound came, and with it another giant mass of shadow and wrath. This was a pincer attack, Alexandros realized, only seconds away from achieving deadly efficiency. An emotional storm swelled on the inside, and it had almost certainly played a role in bringing the second ursa right down on top of them. Death was staring right into the very soul of the boy, and -- with no other options -- he stared back. Once more he retreated, this time laterally, creating a considerable distance between himself and the pile that was once a man in the waking world, and in turn creating a far more direct path between boy and beast. With a flicker and a rising of better judgment, his Semblance was dismissed and the lingering heat carried away into the sky as the red-orange glow of his Aura faded away. He was running on about half a tank of spiritual fuel, maybe a touch more, with much of it doing work to repair the damage concealed beneath the bandages on his left arm, and doubly so after not only a parry but a powerful strike with it. Alexandros relaxed, just slightly, and allowed his hand to hover very near to Thrash, holstered and ready at his hip. Golden eyes stayed locked with the sunken scarlet beads deep inside the plated skull of the Grimm, aflame with intensity and a need to survive.

Then, slowly, the contact was broken. Ursa number two diverted its gaze down to the other student -- still collapsed on the forest floor -- and growled. It was only fair, in the same horrific way that a wolf stalking and shredding a kill was fair: it was nature. It was a twisted, unnecessary, evil part of nature, but it was nature all the same. Creatures of Grimm seemed to live for no other reason than to bring misfortune to the people of the world, so it was to be expected that beneath all the ruthlessness would be some sense of cold logic. Whatever the name of the young man, he was in no position to defend himself, surely appearing as little more than a free meal to the eyes of death.
"Hey!" the brawler snarled, pulling the attention right back as fury gathered around the two remaining combatants. "You come to me, not him."

If it was negativity that these things craved, then he had more than enough for the two of them -- Sleeping Specs was the easier target, certainly, but Alexandros was much more lucrative, and obvious, and dangerous, and pissed-off enough to be a stronger pull for the one-track mind of the Grimm. Another great big staring contest occurred between boy and beast, almost serving as a wordless agreement to the terms of their forthcoming fight. A tremendous weight was making itself apparent upon the boy's shoulders, with not only his life but the life of another in a great deal of danger. Remember earlier, he told himself, making his own little glance down to the tall student, just be better than earlier.

This was no time for distractions. No, not now.

Like a flash of sickening and wicked lightning, the living shadow moved forward, impossible grace and swiftness bringing it within critical distance by way of a lunging swat with both enormous forepaws. Alexandros pulled back, and away to one side, tightly gripping Thrash as he dodged the opening strike. The quickness remained, and in no time at all the monster stood up tall on its hind legs and twisted to face its target, growling as it went, springing off in another attempt at a crushing swat; with equal speed came another dodge, yet again a broadly circling sidestep even further away from the defenceless young man who lay unconscious on the other side of the abomination. Another effort of great speed, this time finding more success, as the ursa minor threw a twisting slash across the boy's chest. Alexandros leaned back to lessen the hellish pain and damage which would be dealt, but it was not enough to truly protect him. Cold claws cut clean through his clothing, ripping open two parallel slices where the tips of the longest-protruding blades had found their mark and tore through him. The boy cried a short and sharp yelp of pain, then let the sound draw itself out into an enraged growl of his own.

Alexandros pushed further into a lean as the light of Aura traced over his fresh wound, beneath this clothing, promptly sealing it shut in a way it simply hadn't done earlier in the day. Pain was no stranger to the boy -- not in any of its countless forms -- and this time was not really all that different, with a single defining factor separating it from every other time he had been hurt:
Alexandros was fighting for his dream.
He had paid its price in blood and anguish, but it had kept the other boy safe, and kept himself firmly as the only target in the mind of the ursa. What was once solely the speed of the creature surged across into the thumping heart of the Skouriá boy, who seized the opening presenting itself in a brash and cocky move; Thrash was whipped up from its holster, Alex planting himself and all his weight into a sturdy shooter's stance, its hammer pulled back as the revolver slung itself into position to deliver a shot to the exposed weak-point of the Grimm as it followed through all the force from its brutal attack. Faster than even the blink of an eye, Alexandros pulled Thrash's trigger and fired the first of four shots right on target. The ursa reeled back, carrying the momentum from its over-swing and using it to throw itself upright on its hind legs, standing tall and fierce and letting the sound of hell itself thunder forth from its maw. It was an impressive effort, one which reduce a lesser man to a quivering wreck, but the boy did not -- and could not afford to -- care. You're still wide open! he screamed on the inside, adjusting his aim on the monster. Thrash's trigger remained squeezed all the way back at a stop from the previous shot, and with no hesitation, Alexandros swung his left hand ready over the hammer, and focused long and hard on exactly where he wanted to place his next attack.

With his palm, one rolling push of the hammer. All the way back, then released, and sprung back into place. Two of four.
With his palm, faster and more aggressive than the last one, another push. All the way back, then released, hammer and firing pin charging forward into the primer of another shot. Three of four.

In rapid succession, the bullets pierced clean into the beast's knee, stalling it in place and knocking the balance out from under it. Argent's arrow had done much the same, creating a brief moment to recalculate which had mistakenly been assumed to be an opening. Alexandros flicked his gaze down to the bandages, then straight back up, right at the Grimm. This time was going to be different. No uppercuts and haymakers, and no punishment for the recklessness they represented. The brawler -- and gunslinger, too -- watched with utter contentment as the second ursa slipped and scrambled to stay standing, drinking in everything there was to see about the sight before him. After some seconds of uneven and heavy swaying, the beast was stable, and all-too-eager to continue the mayhem. It was, after all, not all that damning of an attack; Thrash was simply a gun, and Alexandros was simply the one foolish enough to use it, but there was no denying the punch it packed was commendable. Not quite enough to completely blow off the bear's leg, but commendable all the same.

The fourth and final shot was fired, landing almost perfectly between the eyes and breaking off chunks of sturdy white armour. The ursa threw its head back as it stood tall, then its balance thrown-out yet again -- another little moment of collapse and slipping and scrambling presented itself as it growled and roared in blinding rage. Alex holstered Thrash as what proved to be the last moments of the battle unfolded; his Aura was still very busy keeping his body in check, but its services were needed elsewhere as the boy summoned up its glow around his hands and feet. Lots of Aura, and lots of heat, was brought up from inside his spirit, pulling away from the mostly-completed job done on his chest. Aura was, in theory, an infinite supply of energy, but it needed a great deal of time to replenish and correct itself when used to protect the body; this same barrier could be turned into a searing hot weapon by Alexandros, but it was always a balancing act. Whatever Aura remained for the boy was drastically lower than only some seconds earlier, before the slash, and he decided it would be better spent sending the monster back into whatever nightmare it came from; after all, the dregs of Aura and a completely broken one were largely identical in terms of keeping a body alive, but Alex knew the enormous difference which came from fighting with Bloomery and without it.
Unsurprisingly, the ursa lunged forward to strike. It was uneven, much more obviously hindered by the four shots it had been made to deal with, and clumsier as a result. Alexandros sidestepped to avoid the rather unimpressive blow, then hit back an attack of his own. An overhand was thrown from the right, crushing down on the same spot where the fourth gunshot had broken away part of the beast's armour; with force and heat working together, more and more of the bonelike material cracked and burst out of place. The Grimm roared with anger, hurling itself upright and thrashing out with both paws like some sort of beastly uppercut -- the boy used both hands to deflect and parry away much of the potential damage, but could feel pain darting across his arms all the same. With another step, and an adjustment of form, Alexandros pressed in with a series of swift combination blows. His lefts were numerous and focused, replacing power with precision, while every one of his rights were wild and uncalculated to drive the monster away from the pressure. Once, then twice, the ursa swiped down with an attack, and each time the boy responded with a simultaneous bob and forceful deflection supported by the metal sewn to his gloves. His Aura was one more solid hit away from shattering -- he could feel it slipping away -- and then taking hours to recover, while his opponent was surely close to evaporating down to its constituent darkness.

Time to end this.

The ursa threw out a great big desperate crushing smash with both its paws, intending to bring fury squarely down upon the brawler -- but it was not meant to be. With a final exertion, Alex pushed himself out of danger and around in a wide sidestep to the side of the monster's injured knee. It roared and growled, and he did much the same; with history repeating, the ursa hurried out another attempt a level twisting slash, not at all different from the one which had carved through Alexandros' chest. This lack of difference, it seemed, would be its undoing. Golden eyes narrowing and focusing hard on the motion, the boy himself twisted and dodged narrowly out of harm's way as its silvery claws sailed right by, only a whisper away from ripping him open. His momentum was conserved, springing back into an approximation of stance and then right ahead under the arc of the Grimm's attack and right below its guard, right hand chambering an enormous punch as he went. What little distance remained was swiftly closed, and Alexandros screamed out a battlecry as a cross punch was delivered with a slight rise to the core of the underbelly of the beast. A dull thud, and resistance, and the spreading of ashy white and burning red where his fist lingered.

Then, as the moment drew itself out long, quiet.

Alexandros stumbled back. His breathing was heavy, and his body suddenly being flooded with a great tiredness. Much like the first, the second ursa toppled and broke down into a shadowy mass of nothingness which dissolved and divided away until only the memory of a battle remained. The boy watched closely, completely transfixed by the strangeness of it, unlatching and breaking Thrash open with draining energy to eject the four spent casings. Each tumbled out and fell to the ground below, and the boy sighed as relief flared up inside his mind alongside the tiredness. He stumbled back another step, then stood with his feet wide apart and sturdy beneath him, leaning over forward and heaving out deep breaths between silent laughter; the battle was over, and he was alive to feel the victory.

The young Skouriá redirected his attention to his supplies, then to the tree, then lastly to the other student. Still unconscious, it seemed. His skills in first-aid were, unfortunately, not good enough to make any meaningful contribution to a recovery and reawakening, leaving nothing else to do than stand guard and wait patiently. Bloomery still burning, Alex dug his fingers under the bloody bandages on his left arm and yanked away, pulling the stained white cloth away to reveal the healed gouge beneath. His grip tightened as the heat around him died out, though not before setting light to the gauze and letting it burn down to ashes in the late afternoon breeze.
Alex leaned against the trunk of the very same tree, then slid down to sit upon the cool earth. "You've got the right idea, man," he thought aloud, more as an aside for himself than anything, reaching out and rolling the still-down student over onto one side. "A nap would be pretty good right now."

All that was left was to wait.

--

WC 2976/5295

[Deleted]

A head-splitting headache was what welcomed Ryan to the world of the living as soon as consciousness returned to him. Opening his eyes with a groan, he shielded them with one of his hands as he moved to a sitting position against the very same tree he was leaning a couple... uh... the very same tree in which he had leaned fuck's know how many time ago. Wait, he was still alive? After slowly waiting for his eyes to adjust to the light (for how much had he been knocked out?) he scanned the surrounding area for any clue of what the fuck had happened after he could finally see.

And two things were immediately clear after he did so. First, a battle had occurred here. And second, the guy who fought it was leaning against a tree, like himself, taking a nap while being drenched in sweat to such a level than even Ryan could see it from a couple meters away. Had he... killed the two Ursai who had been pursuing him to no end? Well, there was no other plausible explanation for both of them being alive if that wasn't the case.

'Even now, you can't cease to disappoint me,' His father voice resounded inside his head as a piercing pain in the back of his it left him gritting his teeth. 'Running away all day, you damn coward!? You placed someone else in harm's way because of your weakness! What excuse do you have?! You're a Vas, so get your act together and start acting like one!'

'Go fuck yourself, you damn old man,' Ryan spat back with seething hate and rage. Fighting back the headache, he focused what little Aura he had recovered into trying to at least calm it down. 'You have no right to tell me about how to be a Vas. You ditched me for Aarden without a second thought! Had he acted differently, I wouldn't even be half of what I am today.'

The voice's reply to that statement never came. Instead, it just changed the theme. 'What a waste, you know? You two only were twins in appearance. I'll never understand why your brother lost his time o-'

'Stop bringing Aarden into this!' Ryan finally exploded. It took immense amounts of willpower, and sheer luck, to be honest, to not scream out loud. 'Aarden was always more of a father to me than you could ever have been! Had he not told me of how he dreamed of both of us coming and graduating from Haven, I would have ended our lineage the day he left us! You and I know damn well that I'm the only surviving Vas able to have children!'

What followed afterward, was silence. The voice left his head. Leaving him alone with himself and the sounds of the forest... Well, and the guy napping against the tree. Taking a couple of deep breaths to calm himself, since he didn't want Grimm flocking on them again since that would mean death for both of them, he looked at the guy who he owed his life. For a brief second, he considered the idea of leaving him there. But as soon as it appeared it was pushed back. That guy had not only saved his life but had also kept watch on him. It would be an extremely dickish move from his part to abandon him.

Thus, leaning against the tree with another deep breath, he set to keep watch until the guy wakes up. He sighed in relief after feeling how the headache finally passed away.

---

Word Count: 602
Total Count: 2,249

[Alexandros Skouriá]

Alex startled himself back into the waking world after what felt like a powernap lasting only a tiny and insignificant few seconds; with a push and a tiny jump, the boy scrambled up onto knee and readied a hand over the gun at his hip, scanning with wide eyes to all that surrounded.

No threat. No danger. No, nothing there except he and that other trainee.
"Oh," he said, quietly, loosening and calming down, "it's just you."

Pressing a fist down upon the dry earth below, Alexandros balanced himself and shifted up onto both feet in a low squat, letting out an enormous exhale as he did so. His body ached all over, but his mind was racing, trying to calculate and understand exactly how much everything had been lost in the fight -- physical stamina, and Aura, and time, and supplies -- with the two Grimm. On the surface nothing seemed all that bad, but there was always the possibility that things were far worse than they appeared. Fist still one with the land under him, the boy pushed himself up from the squat to stand as tall as he could muster, stretching both arms high above his head and then out far on either side.

"I don't know whether you were lucky or unlucky, to miss out on that one," he said as he paced over toward his not-yet-quite companion. "Looks like both of us got some beauty sleep at least."

There were perhaps three paces between them when Alexandros stopped in place. The boy set a hand upon his hip, then looked up to meet eyes with the other student, though not before catching a glimpse of the coloured band which designated his grouping for the assignment. Orchid, just like Argent had been. Lingering on the ribbon for only a fraction of a second, Alexandros brought his golden gaze firmly and decidedly skyward to account for the rather stark difference in height. He was huge, truly! Broad and towering, the brown-haired bespectacled one loomed far overhead like a living obelisk; the young Skouriá, at best, came up at his tallest to no greater than the pectorals -- maybe shoulders, on the tips of his toes -- of the stranger. With a bowing of the head and a small laugh, he pulled hand from hip and extended it out to introduce himself.
"Alex," he said. Plain, and to-the-point, and all that his busy brain could think to offer. "Pleasure to meet you; quite the first impression the two of us have made, if I say so myself."

--

WC 429/5724

[Deleted]

Time passed by in silence as Ryan devoted himself to finish several of his uncompleted drawings on his silver notebook. He had no idea how many minutes passed, though it had to be a long while since he had already finished his 6th draw of... Holly, when he heard rustling coming from where the other guy was naping. Standing up in an instant, he swiftly stored the notebook with one hand while grabbing the Aarden's hilt with the other and turned towards the sound to see if he had to return the favor to his savior.

Thankfully enough, it seemed that it wasn't the case. As the origin of the sound was his savior himself as he apparently woke up alarmed. Kind of understandable considering what he must have gone through.

Silently staring at him while he scanned the surrounding area, Ryan let go of Aarden's hilt as he nodded to the other trainee after the latter talked while standing up. While he approached him, Ryan glazed over at the band that indicated his group. A Dandelion. Uh... that's... interesting. He let out a tiny mental shrug. Not that he really cared to be honest. Looking down at the black-haired trainee, Ryan stared at him impassively as he talked. Yeah, sure. Unlucky or not, he wasn't proud of himself for the bullshit he forced him to go through. He will find a way to make it up to him for saving his life. It was only natural to return a favor of that caliber after all.

After the other trainee raised his hand for a handshake, Ryan turned his gaze to it for an abnormal amount of time before grasping it with his own. Giving it a couple shakes, Ryan let go of it before walking past the black-haired teen and leaning against a tree with his back to him. On the guy's hand, he left a folded page of his notebook he had been holding, the handshake was the perfect excuse to give it to him without being weird or awkward about it. And now, Ryan would patiently wait for him to read it and give him his reply to what was written inside.

Inside the note, it read:

"First of all, let me begin by thanking you for saving my life. Had it not been for you I would most likely be dead by now. I won't forget this, so whatever you need afterward, let me know. This is a favor that I can't feasibly return without saving your life myself. But well, it seems that... actually, let's hope it doesn't get to that.

Anyways, now, in a more important note, i'm know that when i wasn't in full control of myself i talked aloud. So please, i beg you, forget everything I said and even how my voice sound. I don't want to bore you with the details, so the gist of it is that months ago i took a vow of silence until i graduate from Haven. So, once again, i beg you for you to make me this favor.

With that being said, My name is Ryan. And i would appreciate your help with what we Orchid have to do."

---

Word Count: 535
Total Count: 2,784[/i]

[Alexandros Skouriá]

Alexandros felt his head instinctually cock slightly to one side, confusion creeping across his face in the wake of a tremendously strange handshake. There had been a prolonged moment of what could only be described as enormous hesitation on the part of his companion, made all the more bizarre by the act itself; it was clumsy and heavy-handed, and lasted just that little bit too long to feel normal. It wasn't some sort of horribly drawn-out or embarrassing affair, just... weird. Yes, that was the word for it: weird. Then again, the young Skouriá found himself thinking, weirdness was largely the point; a hunting academy promised a life of thrill and danger and heartbreak, and never once suggested normalcy. Indeed, the very idea of it, there in his mind, was utterly laughable; the chaotic and the unusual were the business of a huntsman or huntress, dealing in danger and death in almost all circumstances. A normal life full of normal happenings was for all the normal people in the world without the bravado or foolishness or strength of character to stand up to evil. For Alexandros, normal had disappeared three years ago alongside his father -- a normal life was dead, and locked away tightly between intertwining delusion and misaimed hope.
Once more he snapped alert to the real world right there before his eyes, noticing that the tall and bespectacled youth had finally released his grip and was starting to move ahead and past Alex. For a moment the brawler's own gloved hand remained outstretched, and it was only in a tiny flick of his gaze down that he noticed something left tucked into the palm of his hand.

It was...
A note?

The boy gave a curious glance over his shoulder as the other student walked by and waited against another tree, slowly looking back down to the tiny piece of folded paper left in his hand; it was strange, but stranger things had happened. Using only one hand, Alex ran a thumb between each crease to fully open and unfold the note, using his other to idly scratch away at the back of his neck in still-bewildered anticipation. Note open, the boy's eyes darted back and forth across its contents in an effort to quickly and efficiently absorb its information. The most critical piece of all -- the student's name, Ryan -- came at the very end of it all, closing off the truly strange scenario with something far more normal or typical.

"Well, Ryan," Alexandros said, folding the note and stowing it away in a pocket, "if you want to me to forget, then sure -- I'll play along. You've helped me with my part of the examination, so I'll do what I can to help with yours."

Alex ran a hand through his hair and wandered over to his bag of supplies still set against one of the many trees, heaving it up and over his shoulder. Another Orchid meant another conversation, or more accurately another unique piece of information or personal history. He had already said much to Argent about his insecurities and hesitation concerning his desire to enrol at Haven, and had done so largely because it was easier than many of its alternatives. The keen difference was, of course, that he and Argent had conversed on the subjects; it seemed that Ryan was serious enough about this supposed vow of silence to plead for co-operation and an agreed version of the afternoon's events wherein the swordsman had made no sound whatsoever. With nothing in the way of guidance, and all the weight of his companion's success resting squarely on the Skouriá's shoulders, the shorter of the two ran the other hand through his hair and clutched at the back of his skull, arching back and slowly releasing a long sigh up toward the clouds, and the deep green canopy which hid them from view.

If he's not going to say anything, the boy found himself thinking, I might as well make this count.

"This isn't quite a secret or anything," Alexandros started, folding his arms and looking over to Ryan with a slight smile, "so it might not be good enough for you to pass, but it's something that happened pretty recently, so nobody else will know. Your voice for my silly history is probably a fair enough trade, right? Your shame for mine?"

There would be no answer.
Alexandros expected no answer, anyway.

"It was only a few months before I had sent in an application to Haven," he continued, "and before I'd had the thought to even try, you could say -- though, I'd known for a little while that Haven was the 'end goal' for what I wanted to do, it just wasn't in my mind as something that seemed close or worthwhile at the time. Anyway, that doesn’t matter; it was before Haven, and before all the administrative work to try and get here, and it was before the end of last year. By that point, my studies and tutoring under instructors on how to toughen-up and learn the martial arts had been going for a little over three years, so while I was still an absolute rookie there was progress made compared to day one.
"All of a sudden, some part of me just started screaming that I was wasting my time, you know? I was training and learning how to fight whenever there was a chance, but I was doing it without any sort of purpose -- I knew I wanted to try and help people, and I knew that being a huntsman was one way of doing that, but there was still that little voice in the back of my head saying it wasn't going to be enough, or that it wouldn't matter somehow. That voice was telling me -- you know -- 'great, but why are you doing it', all the time, and I guess it was kind of setting in that everything up until that point had been done on autopilot and feelings rather than planning. Students at the academies aren't always as young as I was -- or, still am, whatever -- so it really did feel kind of silly or pointless, since I knew that there'd be people far more capable than I could ever be. Mistral alone is a pretty big place, after all, so it wasn't like there'd be any shortage of applicants or transfers from- well, from wherever; then you have to look at everywhere else in the world, and all of the potential hunters in all the kingdoms and from all over, and... everything, all that stuff. I don't know what it was, but all of that just found a way of hitting me in the worst possible way, so it really did seem like for a moment that the little voice was right."

Alexandros drew a long breath, taking some time to regain his composure before speaking further.

"I almost ran away. There wasn't anywhere in particular that I thought I'd run to, but that thought wasn't in my mind at all. I was tired, and I'd spent a good three years doing all of it on a hunch that it'd somehow prove to be worth it, or that it was the best course of action to achieve what I was looking for, but all at once it came to me that it may have just been a complete and utter waste of time. All it would take would be for Haven to turn me down, and that voice would've been right; that chance terrified me, and it was scary enough that for a moment I didn't even want to try and take it. So, I almost ran. Got as far as the outskirts on the lower parts of the city before I stopped, because I realized then and there that if I did quit, it would have been even more of a waste of time and effort, and that I'd be leaving the last of my family to venture out with no plan, and no supplies, and... no real- that- you, uhm, get the idea."

"So," he said with a shrug, smile twisting undeservedly into a smirk, "there you have it. Your saviour's a coward who damn-near sent himself off to die, all because he wasn't sure Haven would want him."

--

WC 1396/7120

[Deleted]

Leaning against the tree with the notebook in hand, Ryan silently heard Alex's history. As he wrote the gist of the history being told to him, he couldn't help but draw comparisons with his own. But as many similarities as he could point out, there were differences that he didn't want to think about.

While Alex supposedly had been his own bogeyman, Ryan's father had been his. How many days were wasted trying to improve? How many times he endured the harshest training his own mind could come up with from sunrise to sunset leaving him puking out what little food he ate. But every time he progressed, it was always the same. A shrug followed by instructions, and demands, for more. But in the end, there was no one he could blame at the end but himself.

After all, he and he alone had wasted those days, months and years trying to please a man who simply had given up with him. Why had he done so, though? He always knew his father had ditched him for Aarden. For fuck's sake, he even shouted it at his face! Then why, why he had put so much effort into trying to please him? Well, not like he would get the answer now. Thus, with a shake of his head, Ryan finished taking notes and changed for a fresh page. And wordlessly, he wrote:

"Don't follow me."

And left it plastered against the tree before walking away from his savior. Disappearing shortly thereafter in the dense forest.

---

Word Count: 256
Total Count: 3,040