STRQ Team Ch. 2 - Athos Bleu
Series Synopsis: This is not the fairy tale of hopes and dreams. This is a tale of legacies, of predecessors. Of those that came before, who fought and offered their strength to those who would come after. Before Team RWBY, there was STRQ Team. Summer Rose, Taiyang Xiao Long, Raven Branwen, and Qrow Branwen. Through the actions of these four special individuals, some of noble cause and some borne of infamy, the gears of fate will be set in motion for the World of Remnant. And the future as a whole.
Links to read the series: Ao3 or FF.net
Or hit the jump below:
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Athos Bleu
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The Strength in One
Becomes the Strength in All.
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From the farthest corners of Remnant, students of all shapes and backgrounds filtered into Beacon Academy’s auditorium. Some came from within the Kingdom and others without. But whatever their origins, they shared a single objective.
To earn the title of Hunter.
…
“What took you?” Raven asked.
“What? Lonely after leaving you alone for five minutes?” Qrow asked back.
“No. Just wondering how long it took you to get anywhere with your mark. By the looks of it, you didn’t even get her number.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Sure, it wasn’t,” Raven rolled her eyes to Summer, who just walked through the entrance hall. She scrutinized the girl’s figure, flirting with a few ideas. “This isn’t the time to get distracted, little brother. Doubt we’ll be here for long.”
“Still trying to figure a way out, huh?”
“Of course.”
“You know, if we stir shit up here and get expelled, Temujin and Shepherd would probably just send us to another school.”
“Then, we raise hell there, too. Whatever it takes to get it through their thick skulls that this idea is a complete waste of time.”
“I gotta be honest, sis. I think we’re gonna be here a while. We might as well get acclimated,” Qrow started walking backwards in line with Raven’s pace. “It can’t be all that bad, or else Shepherd and Temujin wouldn’t have sent us here in the first place.”
“I know that much, idiot. They want us to be normal kids like the rest of everyone our age.”
“Then, why are you fighting this so hard?”
“Because this isn’t home, Qrow. Home is Vacuo, with Temujin and even Shepherd. You wanna live the honest life on the straight and narrow? Good luck to you! But I’m going back—one way or another.”
“You’re wrong if you think I don’t want to go back to them.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“I just…I want to respect their wishes. They’ve never been wrong before. Maybe, I dunno. We actually find this better life they keep talking about.”
“You are seriously dumb. Of course, if we stay here, we’ll have better lives.”
“So……What? You allergic to the idea of being at peace or happy?”
“Maybe, I don’t want to be happy.”
“…I’ve heard you say a lot of angsty teenage stuff, but that by far is—”
Suddenly, Qrow was knocked off balance, when he walked backwards into someone. He turned to see it was a short boy wearing bright baggy clothes, sunglasses, and a hiphop cap. Despite their height only reaching his shoulders, it was Qrow who was knocked on looser footing.
“Very smooth, little brother,” Raven snorted.
“Hey! Watch where you’re going, short stuff!” Qrow yelled.
“Y-y-yeah? But you were the one who bumped into me,” the other boy replied.
“Yeah, and how could you tell anything, when you’re wearing sunglasses indoors?”
The Branwen twins looked the kid up and down more closely.
Besides the sunglasses and the backwards hat, he also wore a mix-match of what could be considered the hippest fashion. The problem was, it was all too obvious the boy was trying too hard, and it resulted in him looking ridiculous instead.
“I take that question back. Didn’t even need to ask it.” Qrow snatched the boy’s cap to reveal their spikey, yellow hair. “So, is that dyed, or are you a natural blonde?”
As the boy readied to use force to take his hat back, Raven snatched it from her Qrow’s hand.
“Sorry about my brother,” she apologized, while handing the hat to its rightful owner. “He can be a dick about the dumbest shit. My name’s Raven. And, you are?”
Raven leaned close to him with an air of seduction. By the way she shortened the space, it was clear she tried to emphasize her ample but still growing chest. It made her target sweat profusely.
“T-t-taiyang. Taiyang Xiao Long.”
“Taiyang Xiao Long…” Raven echoed in a low tone. “It’s a strong name.”
“Eck!” Qrow expressed behind, with a finger in his open mouth.
“See you around, Tai,” Raven winked, and then made her way closer to the auditorium stage.
Taiyang couldn’t help watching the girl’s figure leave, her hips swinging with a subtle sashay in her step.
“So, gross,” Qrow commented, once he caught up with his sister. “Seriously?”
“That, little brother, is planting the seeds of weakness.”
“So you can reap the later victories,” Qrow completed Temujin’s saying. “Still, almost had me fooled you were interested in the little twerp.”
“Please. That’s why I keep telling you, you need more training. Things aren’t always what they seem.”
Raven glanced back at Taiyang still gawking at her with a lovestruck stare.
Not to mention, his fatal lines are unusually small.
Despite how he looks, he’s obviously trained to minimize his weak points.
She played back the moment Qrow bumped into him. The boy’s feet stayed firmly planted to the floor. And even though, he was knocked into by someone bigger than him, his stance remained completely solid, while also being caught by surprise.
He’s definitely no pushover.
Raven brandished a fake smile and gave a fingery wave. Taiyang responded with a robotic wave of his own.
Well, I guess everyone this age is weak to a little stimulation.
“Taiyang Xiao Long, huh?”
…
Might’ve been a threat—
If he wasn’t such a chump.
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X X X X X
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As the last of the students entered the auditorium, the lights dimmed and the Headmaster of Beacon took the stage.
He was a tall man with a lengthy beard, dressed in formal, forest-green robes. Lining his hood and collar, sprouted vibrant vegetation and a few stems of flowers. The irises of his eyes possessed a bright pink luster to them, lending him the appearance of something supernatural. In his grey beard, the heads of a small falcon, snake, and spider, peaked out momentarily. Once they saw the crowd, they seemingly retreated back into their nest.
“I am Headmaster Myrddin. Welcome to Beacon Academy.”
His voice carried over the entire chamber without the use of microphones or sound systems. And he did not yell, yet it was as if he were whispering in the ear of all those in the audience.
“Today will mark the first step in the rest of your lives. You may think I am overdramatic in saying this, but your years spent here will introduce violent change into what you think you know; about life, about the world, and especially—about yourselves.”
Murmurs rose in the students, but immediately quieted again once he spoke.
“For it is only within the storm we find what truly matters, what it is that truly survives. And in that material, weapons are forged for the sake of…Hm.”
Myrddin stopped himself midsentence.
“No…No, I don’t think I will reveal that quite just yet.”
More confusion erupted from the audience, but the Headmaster only resumed his speech.
“I’m sure you would rather take some time to get acquainted with our facilities, but first things first. A test will be implemented tomorrow morning. Prepare your equipment, talk amongst yourselves. Perhaps, strategize as you see fit. Be ready when the sun rises. That will be all.”
As Myrddin left the stage, leaving the new students in complete bewilderment, the lights of the auditorium turned back on. Little did the audience know, while they were watching the Headmaster, their future Professors and Mentors were watching them.
On the second floor of the theatre, a group of veteran Huntsmen and Huntresses observed from a one-way window.
“Haha! I wonder which one of these young minds will have the honor of receiving mentorship under me!”
“Indeed, Peter! Our first year as Professors seems marked by a similarly interesting generation of students!”
“How about a wager then, Barty? There is the Vytal Tournament later this year! Let us see who can train the best team of youngsters! Ah… I wish I had a Mentor like me when I was their age. Then, blah blah blah blah…”
As a number of professors discussed and spied on the potential candidates of students, one particular faculty member seemed indifferent to it all.
He leaned against the back wall with his arms crossed. The cape and leathers he wore were dyed a deep, sapphire blue. They were worn and torn from long-time use. His wide-brim, musketeer hat tipped low above his eyes. Two large feathers, one black and one white, tucked into its band.
Rather than paying attention to the students or the Headmaster’s speech, he seemed only to be waiting for the orientation to finish.
In his boredom, he drew a steel flask from his pocket and drained it heavily. His brown mustache and beard, which bristled out like wild grass, caught some of the liquor. A sloppy arm went to wipe it.
The man appeared rather unkempt and rough around the edges. But a certain intimidation hung around the atmosphere of the veteran Huntsman. A presence that warded off practically all his colleagues, save for maybe one.
“Any of the students catch your eye this year, Athos?”
“Ozpin,” he muttered with slight acknowledgment. His voice resounded with a low, tough crass. “No, none. Myrddin said something about this batch being special, but the brats look as unimpressive as last year’s, and the ones before that.”
“Really? No interest at all? Not even the young Summer Rose?”
“Yours and the Headmaster’s shining, prodigy. Hook from Signal, put in a good word about her, too.”
“And?”
“…She’s got silver eyes. Practically doomed and cursed to live a life of tragedy.”
Ozpin sighed. “How about the Branwen twins?”
“Peh. ‘Branwens’. Thought they all died out. Can’t believe Temujin didn’t want to save a pair of talented killers for herself. Make better assassins than Hunters. But I guess, assassins are just another a kind of Hunter.”
“Hm,” Ozpin chuckled. “And here I thought this would be the year a group of youths finally earn apprenticeships with the legendary Athos Bleu.”
“Stop blowing smoke up my ass, Oz. There’s nothing legendary about me.”
The man emptied the rest of his flask annoyingly. Seeing as he didn’t feel drunk enough, he decided to ditch the rest of the ceremony to find more booze.
On his way from the balcony, he caught sight of someone through the window.
Taiyang Xiao Long, huh.
He’s probably a standout, too…
If he didn’t get all googly-eyed around the Branwen girl, like some kind of chump.
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X X X X X
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At the strike of dawn, the “prospective” students of Beacon Academy gathered at a grass clearing. Before them, was the tree line of the Emerald Forest. And standing along its perimeter, facing them, were various Professors.
As the students wondered what kind of entrance test they would be taking, an unknown figure stepped in front of the faculty to greet them.
The woman gazed intensely at them all with an almost angry look. The black fur trench coat she wore was lined with armor. As if to accentuate the intimidating impression she gave, her face and skin exposed by her low-cut shirt, were covered in tattoos. Her hair was colored with a burning red, and the silver decorations weaved into their ends clinked as she turned to scan all of them.
“My name is Gavein Caliburn! But that’s Professor Caliburn to all of you!” Her voice rung across the landscape with a tone that was noble, inspiring, and proud, but also frightening. “I am the Vice Headmaster of Beacon Academy. Professor Myrddin had to attend to other matters, so I will be explaining the details of the test!
“As you may have already heard, students here are divided into teams of varying numbers. You can be divided into teams of one, four, even ten or twenty. Each team, is led by a Professor or ‘Mentor’ as you will refer to them in the future. Your placements will be determined entirely on the results of your test. Any questions?”
Not a single hand or voice spoke up, though, likely not for a lack of curiosity.
“Very well. As prospective students aiming to become future Huntresses and Huntsmen, you will—in frequent cases—obviously be required to Hunt. Therefore, this test is designed with the straightforward purpose of measuring that skill.”
She extended her arms to her right and left, referring to the Professors behind her.
“Your future Mentors will enter the Emerald Forest. After five minutes have passed, you will hunt them down.”
…
All the students immediately started murmuring to each other with uncertainty. Several voices cried out in hushed words:
“Is that all the instructions we get?”
“We’re supposed to hunt veteran Huntsmen and Huntresses?”
“So, we have to find them? Wait, do we have to capture them, too?”
“That’s too hard, isn’t it?”
“We probably aren’t meant to succeed, right? They just want to see what we can do.”
Many of them wanted to raise a question, but were too afraid to ask. Nothing in the Vice Headmaster’s demeanor gave the impression that anything was up for debate. Instead, the students stared helplessly, hoping someone would point out the absurd difficulty of the exam.
After some time passed, and it seemed no one would raise a point, a single hand went up.
Professor Caliburn mugged at them, before calling them out.
“Yes, a question.”
“When you say hunt down a professor,” Raven started. “We talking capture…or kill?”
For the first time since she appeared, Caliburn broke into a surprised smirk.
Cheeky brat.
“I’ll leave the method up to you to determine. But I will say this, you’re usually tasked with eliminating Grimm, than taking them alive. Interpret that how you like.”
Caliburn turned a glance to her colleagues. More than a few were surprised by Raven’s question. Some tried to play it off as a student getting ahead of themselves, but there was no mistaking a subtle trace of fear underneath. And then, there were the words from the Vice Headmaster herself.
Should serve to keep the Mentors on their toes, too.
“Ah! Youth! This is getting very exciting, Barty!”
“Indeed! I, myself, feel positively ecstatic by the potential of these newcomers. Or maybe, it’s the coffee!”
Well…some of them, anyway.
Caliburn shrugged, and like a conductor, swiped her hand across the air.
“Scatter!”
On her signal, the various professors dashed into the Emerald Forest at full speed. Their figures, disappearing completely in a matter of seconds.
The students could only gawk at the monumental task set before them. Some seemed overwhelmed before they were even given the chance to start. And it took a while for a few to notice that there was one professor that didn’t leave with the others.
The Vice Headmaster sighed at the man sitting on the ground, drinking liquor from a barrel with the utmost casualty.
“Really, Athos? This year, too?” she shook her head at the professor’s delinquent antics.
The man gave a loud burp, before replying.
“Not all prey run.”
“You’re just being lazy.”
“I’m being helpful.”
“Sure, you are.”
“……Drink?” he offered, clutching the barrel’s rim with a single hand.
Caliburn rolled her eyes, and then, joined him in sitting on the grass. The two traded the barrel back and forth, enjoying a casual discussion.
Meanwhile, the prospective students all eyed the odd Huntsman as he grew increasingly drunker. Not knowing what to make of it, they wondered if the man was simply open to taking anyone as an apprentice.
After some time passed, Caliburn stood up and took the vibrating scroll from her pocket.
“Twenty seconds until you start!” she announced.
At the same time, Athos lazily got up, continuing to down large gulps of liquor.
“Ten seconds!”
All the students drew their respective weapons, and took their starting run poses.
“Five…!”
Athos pulled out a long musket rifle that had a full-length sword attached to its end, like a bayonet.
“Three…!”
Any light breeze dissipated, as the air went dense. The smell of alcohol lingered the air, along with something else. Not an actual scent, but a possible feeling of dread.
“Two…!
An explosion of bloodlust could be felt. Athos kicked off the ground violently, sending dirt and rock up behind him.
“One…!”
By the time Vice Headmaster Caliburn finished the countdown, Athos was landing his rifle amidst the first batch of students.
The earth sundered with a thundercrack. A violent shockwave blasted most everyone off their feet. Students were sent flying. And when the dust finally settled, they watched the Huntsman strut threateningly from the crater.
His musket resting across one shoulder, while he took his time downing another helping from his liquor barrel.
“Hah…” he sighed contently.
Another shockwave, and Athos was swinging his rifle wildly again.
Realization dawned on the students, for some of whom it was too late. Unlike the other professors, the students were not meant to hunt Athos Bleu.
Athos Bleu was meant to hunt them.












