byproduct.

Glynda watched him, utterly bewildered at the man standing before her. There was no doubt in her mind that this was her assistant, but he is quite different from what she had been imagining in her head. The tattoos were certainly a surprise. 

Green eyes watched him, opening her mouth to speak but quickly being quieted as he kept going. Was this part of his semblance? Or perhaps this was just how he was. Either way, she found it rather interesting. Setting her bag down in the chair, Glynda nodded along with his words. Having him around was going to be incredibly helpful. She had been wondering how she would get the notes on the board on her trek over to the school this morning. But now that was dealt with that. Thankfully.

Head snaps up as the man now yells from the back of the hall, a bewildered look appearing on her face. How did he get up there? He was down here just a second ago! As he returned back before her, she felt as if she got whiplash. This would be interesting.

“Well, Mr. Oobleck, I am honestly thrilled to have you as my assistant, however young you may be.” Eyes fall to the outstretched hand, a small sinking feeling hitting her stomach. But she took his hand and gave it a light shake. She barely squeezed. After all, she couldn’t feel anything.

“I know I mentioned this before in one of my emails, but I would just like to remind you that I am recovering from a rather severe accident. I will occasionally drop things due to my injuries, and I would very much appreciate it if you just act like nothing happened and keep going.”

“Now how in the world did you get to the teachers lounge so many times, go to the library, and get all of this written on the board before I got here? How long have you been here?”

          “DOCTOR!” he quickly interjects. “my apologies, miss goodwitch, but i didn’t spend the better part of the last few years studying as hard as i did for fun!” he shakes her hand and then dashes over to the chalkboard and starts to write again, in bigger lettering this time. “and yes! professor ozpin informed me of your injuries and i assure you that i will keep the class rolling as smoothly as possible no matter what!”

     when he turns back around, he’s written ‘professor glynda goodwitch and DOCTOR bartholomew oobleck’ on the board, with quite a few lines under ‘doctor’ to emphasize it for the students. he also has his thermos in his hand, which certainly wasn’t there when he turned to write, and takes a sip. it doesn’t smell like coffee.

She had spent so long studying. Even before she was released from the hospital, Glynda Goodwitch had studied and prepared to become a professor. Now, just over a year since she had woken from her coma, she was teaching. She was still working towards her degrees, technically, but with her best friend being the headmaster of Beacon, he allowed her to come and teach early. 

He had set her up with an assistant, someone to aid her day by day. After all, she was still technically recovering. Today would be her first meeting with this Bartholomew Oobleck. They had conversed back and forth for a few days now and she could tell that the young man would be an excellent help for her. Carrying her bag and having a tight grip on her travel mug of tea, Glynda entered her new classroom.

What she was greeted with, however, had not been what she was expecting. For one, the door was unlocked and Bartholomew had already arrived. The lesson plan was almost entirely on the board, and there were several coffee cups on the desk. She blinked, looking from the coffee to the young man. 

“Mr. Oobleck I assume?” Heels click across the floor as Glynda heads straight for the desk. She was quick to set her mug down before she could drop it. Today, she felt nothing in her hands, and the temptation to call out had been incredible. But it was her first day. There was no way she could miss it.

“I’m Miss Goodwitch. We’ve been speaking via email for some time now. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

     bartholomew whirls around at her greeting, and it becomes quite clear that he’s the one who’s been drinking coffee pot after coffee pot this morning. his hair is overgrown and slicked back, sticking out in every direction and just barely held together by what must be the strongest hair gel in the kingdom. glasses atop his nose cover most of his face, crooked where they rest, and excited blue eyes glimmer behind them. he’s in dark slacks and a button up shirt, but the shirt is untucked, his tie is loose and lopsided, and every inch of fabric upon him looks like it needs desperately to be ironed.

     he also has his sleeves rolled up, presumably to keep from getting chalk dust on them, and his arms appear to be covered almost entirely in tattoos. he shakes out his hands and knocks the sleeves back down to cover them before they can be commented on.

          “good morning, miss goodwitch! i hope you don’t mind i helped myself to the coffee in the teacher’s lounge--” that’s almost halfway across the school, how did he manage to get all of this done and keep making trips? “--i figured i’d save what i brought myself for later in case we’re in need of a demonstration of sorts!” he gestures to his thermos, which looks untouched. “i’ve written out all the notes the students will be taking today and separated them all by the classes, since if i remember correctly we have two classes of first-years and a class of third-years on the monday schedule. OH!”

     she blinks and he’s gone, standing up at the top of the lecture hall next to the projector system in the back. “I ALSO WENT AHEAD AND SET UP THE PROJECTOR FOR THE THIRD YEAR CLASS! i had to take a few of the grimm slides from the library--” again, how on earth did he get that far and back? “--but no one was there so i filled out the check out forms myself and left a note so they know when everyone else arrives today, i hope they don’t mind.”

in his early years as a huntsman, he took up a hire job with the white fang. mind you, this was in the era where ghira was running the fang, and barty, being a proud supporter, was more than happy to assist. it was an escort job, taking a group of faunus civilians outside of the kingdom. the fang wanted huntsman to help out since they’d be in uncharted, unprotected territory.

they was attacked by a group of human supremacists, and barty fought valiantly with the other guards to keep them off the civilians. after a few of the guards were shot, though, they got barty to stand down, using one of the children at gunpoint to get him to obey.

they forced him to the ground and made sure he wasn’t able to move before they grabbed a knife and cut his wings off right at the base. barty’s screams were enough to draw attention from the village nearby, and that scared off the attackers long enough to get him medical help.

barty is actually a muse, but sometimes is referred to as the god of history

he presides mainly over mortal history and art and records everything mankind has ever done

he is madly in love with humanity and makes it known at every chance he can. even the fact that they have the capacity to go to war is incredible and amazing to him

he takes two forms exclusively: either that of a human man (like we’ve seen in the show) or a hummingbird

he’s often symbolized by said hummingbird, parchment and quill, a scroll tied with green ribbon, or a golden wax seal

because of his domain, he and ozpin are depicted together constantly. they’re referred to by humans as “the scholar and the scribe.” however, where ozpin would usually be depicted as the scholar on his own, their roles are reversed when they’re together, as barty relays the historical tales from humanity to ozpin

the two of them are also symbolized by the image of an owl shielding a hummingbird with its wings

barty’s immortality is actually conditional, though he has no real fear that the condition in which he would die will come any time soon. so long as written accounts of art and history exist on earth, so will he. his own accounts do nothing to keep him alive, so wars that focus on destroying art or literature hurt him horrifically

“ i, too, suffer from a hunger affliction, though mine is more metaphorical than yours. i seek knowledge. i am forever searching to satisfy my hunger to know all things. now, i have an ache in my soul for something very specific. “  he smiles.  “ you. i simply wish to know you. “

“ my point remains. “  ozpin stops a respectable distance from salem.  “ tell me, what will you do now that you have a visitor? will you consume me, or may we talk? “

“ there is no reason you should be alone. “  ozpin steps further into the goddess’s domain.  “ you chose to exile yourself instead of devouring us. you chose compassion. should you not be given the same in return? “