The Games We Play

DISCLAIMER: This story is NOT MINE IN ANY WAY. That honor has gone to the beautiful bastard Ryuugi. This has been pulled from his Spacebattles publishment at threads/rwby-the-gamer-the-games-we-play-disk-five.341621/. Anyway on with the show...err read.

Class Introductions

Classes at Haven were, naturally, quite a bit different from the schools I'd gone to in the past. Part of that was because…well, it was a school to train Hunters, so of course it'd be different. The other part of it was that it was essentially a college—a college to teach people how to best destroy the enemies of mankind, but a college nonetheless. As a result, in addition to having a number of courses that would have seemed extremely out of place anywhere else, there were different expectations when it came to scheduling and course work. While there weren't really different majors or degrees, students were expected to specialize in different areas in accordance to their own interests and skills and a large amount of that was handled behind the scenes. Different powers naturally lent themselves to different roles and while students weren't forced, there were some very strong, if subtle, incentives to do so. That didn't mean as much for freshman as it did for upperclassmen—and meant basically nothing to me—but it still affected us in a few ways. While we were mostly expected to polish our basics in our first semester or two, not everyone needed that polish in the same areas, which is why teammates could wind up in different classes.

But while not every member needed to be in the same history class, there was something that was expected of every team—the ability to work together, especially in battle. As such, courses like PT were taken as a team, which was why we met up with Emerald and Mercury in our next class.

"Hey," I greeted as Adam tossed his bag beneath the table. I didn't bother with one of my own—partially because there wasn't much point in me taking notes on stuff I already knew, partially because I'd remember everything I heard anyway, and partially because I carried everything I needed in my Inventory. "How was your class?"

"Boring," Mercury answered with a sigh, dropping his bag, taking a seat, and then putting his feet up on the table in front of him. "Yours?"

"Boring," I answered back, chuckling.

He grunted, unsurprised.

"For a school that supposed to teach us to kill monsters, there sure are a lot of courses that don't teach us how to kill monsters," He complained, putting his hands behind his head. "Some of it…yeah, some of it, I get. But there's a whole lot of shit that I'm a million percent sure I'll forget the moment I leave this place and never use in my entire life. You should have scene our history class."

I nodded, smiling slightly. I wasn't sure if he was trying to build a sense of companionship between us or if he was just looking for a chance to complain, but I was happy to play along. In truth, he was right; there were a fair amount of pointless things taught at the Hunter Academies—or, at least, things that were point for Hunters to know. While there was undoubtedly something to be said for knowledge being power, there were a number of things that, well, just weren't that important. While the economic crisis that resulted from the aftermath of the Great War was sort of interesting in technical sense, especially in how it later played into the Faunus Rights Revolution, I was doubtful that any of the students learning about it three classrooms over were going to benefit much from it. There were people who needed to know about that stuff for their jobs, but it didn't really make us better Hunters.

But then, it wasn't supposed to. There was a different point to making us learn those things—though what point depended on how cynical you were. In the end, though, the truth of the matter was that the Kingdoms didn't want us to be nothing but killing machines because that would pretty much inevitably backfire; instead, they wanted us to be people and have ties that made us loyal, whether to the Kingdom itself or people in it.

That was the reason why the Headmasters and Headmistresses of the Hunter Academies were some of the most powerful people in the world—because they were trusted by so many of their former students. It was also why the position was given only to the most trusted Hunters; if there was one history lesson that was worth learning, it was what happened when the wrong person was put in charge.

Of course, if my fears concerning Ozpin proved true…we all might get a first-hand look at the results.

I'd just have to make sure it didn't come to that.

"Those who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it," I finally answered, sighing slightly.

Mercury snorted.

"Yeah, well, all I learned from history is that no one learns from history," He stated, to which I was forced to incline my head.

Fair enough. One way or another, that was probably a fairly accurate assessment of Remnant's past. Part of that was because the Grimm had been pulling the strings and forcing things, but…well, that was the other downside of learning about our history—it wasn't a particularly happy tale. Civilizations rose and fell, generally ending on such pleasant notes as 'they resolved to stand against the Grimm even if it killed them…which it did. The end.'

I sighed again.

"Enough about boring classes," Emerald interrupted, drawing a notebook and putting it on her desk. She looked for all the world like an attentive student ready to take notes—but the book was completely empty from her last class and any enthusiasm on her part was faked. All she felt was bored and hungry. "PT should be fun, right?"

"Maybe you're right, Emerald," I replied anyway. "It's our first day, after all; the teacher will probably want to test us out some. We might even get to spar."

Mercury yawned, also bored and hungry.

"That might be good for a laugh for…" He paused to mull over the though before shrugging. "Maybe five minutes? But I bet you it gets old really fast. Fifty Lien says that once it becomes obvious that we're the strongest team here, this class is gonna get super annoying."

"No bet," Adam grunted. "But those five minutes of amusement are mine."

Mercury lifted an eyebrow and glanced at me.

"If we have some spars coming up and it's allowed," I began as if I couldn't read the professor's notes from down the hall. "Adam called dibs on the enemy team."

"Dibs?" He repeated.

"It means he wants to take on the entire team alone," I explained. "You two can fight if you really want to, but Adam won't be happy. It wouldn't really make much of a difference, but…Adam's in a bad mood, today, so I'll let him take this one."

"Four against one?" Emerald asked.

"It's still unfair," I admitted shutting my eyes for a moment. "But can you imagine if all of us fought? Now that'd just be cruel. Besides, it's unlikely the professor will do anything unless we show him how much stronger we are—maybe he'll let the others team up against us."

"That…might be fun," Mercury answered, the approval seeming to cost him something. "Mind if I go next?"

I opened an eye to glance at him in amusement.

"Go ahead," I replied with an easy shrug. "It doesn't really matter when I go, but I'm kind of holding out for the entire class."

Mercury whistled slightly at that, looking around.

"Think you can take that many?" He asked.

"Yup," I stated without any emphasis. "I'll ask the professor about it when I get a chance, too. I'd like to establish who's in charge as quickly as possible so that there are no misunderstandings down the line."

"Hm," Mercury hummed in thought, bobbing his head towards me in acknowledgement, but the professor walked in before he could ask anything else.

"Hello, class," He said as he entered, ignoring the conversations that quickly came to a halt anyway. He was an elderly-looking man, with grey hair and wrinkles set deep into his face. His skin was bronzed from a life of work and his eyes were a shining, intelligent brown. Given the prolonged youth that Hunters tended to be blessed with—assuming, of course, that they lived long enough to enjoy it—his appearance said a great deal about him, especially combined with his name.

The Trainer of Heroes

LV103

Kaus Toxotes

Like Ozpin and my grandmother, his name didn't seem to correspond to a color—most likely because he predated the trend that the Great War had started eighty years ago. Added to that, his level…

"Now, I think we all know why we're here," Kaus said, clapping his hands with a smile. Despite his age, his hands looked strong and his voice carried throughout the room. "I'm Dr. Toxotes—or Dr. T, if you prefer. As it happens, I know many of you already and you may remember seeing me with your parents at some point. For those of you who do, allow me to explain; odds are that I taught them when they came here, because I've been a professor here for nearly seventy-three years now. So, be warned that I'm not afraid to call up my old students if you miss behave."

He lifted a finger, but the smile on his face was amused.

"That having been said, I like to think I have a fairly good track record when it comes to students," He continued. "And I'm pleased to be here to teach you. You'll likely see quite a bit of me in your time here at Haven and so long as you give me your best, I will give you mine. Whoever you are or whatever lead you here, that you are here is what matters. You are the next generation of Huntsmen and Huntresses and I will do everything I can to make sure you're up to the task. Hunters, you see, are not born, they're made—as are teams."

At a snap of his fingers, the lights in the room began to dim, except for the lowered, circular area at the bottom of the auditorium—the ring.

"So," He said, eyes beginning to glow. "Let's get to forging. We'll start with a few matches, to see where you all stand. Are there any volunteers?"

Dr. T glanced his way, looking my disguised friend over with only slight surprise.

"Adam…Knossos, was it?" He asked. "From team JAME?"

Adam nodded once, rising slowly from his seat and cracking his neck. The entire classroom immediately focused on him, but he merely looked back, expression…not quite calm and not quite hungry, but something in between.

Dr. T looked down at his scroll, glancing at the notes his words had automatically brought up. It must have been connected to the school's database, because the screen showed Adam's profile, including what few notes there were about his performance in initiation. I felt the professor grow intrigued at what little was there—both because there was so little there and because of the reason why. Adam and I had breezed through the test so quickly there wasn't much to talk about.

As the person in charge of our growth, it was only natural that Kaus would want to unravel the mysteries around us. Perhaps that's why he immediately played along.

"Very well, Mr. Knossos," He said, smiling. "Thank you for your enthusiasm. Is there anyone willing to fight Mr. Knossos?"

"Actually, sir," Adam interrupted smoothly before anyone could reply. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to issue a challenge to a team."

Dr. T blinked once, surprised at the bold proclamation.

"You mean…" He began before hesitating and shaking his head, changing his mind midsentence. "I apologize Mr. Knossos, but we won't be having team battles today."

"I don't want a battle between teams, sir," Adam replied, shaking his head. "I simply wish to battle a team, to make things interesting. Four-on-one."

Whispers raced through the classroom at his proclamation, tones of surprise, anger, intrigue, and annoyance mixing together into a sea of background noise. As they began to speak amongst themselves, Adam quietly looked down, gaze matching the professor's.

"I see," Dr. Toxotes said at last, contemplating Adam for a long moment before nodding. "Such…asymmetrical battles certainly aren't unheard of—for advanced students, who know their limits."

"I know my limits," Adam answered, glancing my way. "I'm just not one to accept them."

Apparently, that was the right thing to say.

"Very well," Dr. T replied with a smile, stepping back to take a seat on his desk. "What kind of professor would I be if I asked you not to try and overcome your limits? My job is merely to see that you do so safely and to help you along the way. If you wish to test your ability, I'll give you a chance."

Looking away from Adam, he slid his gaze across the rest of the class.

"In truth, I hadn't planned on starting team battles for another week or two," He admitted a moment later. "But adapting to changing circumstances is also part of being a Hunter. Is there anyone willing to answer Mr. Knossos' challenge?"

There was a long moment of silence before another hand went up.

"Ms. Gronn?" Dr. Toxotes noted, glancing at the young woman. "May I assume you're speaking for team TEAL?"

Even sitting down, I could tell that she was a tall girl—as in, taller than I was, and built to match. The weapons at her belt appeared to be a pair of overgrown tonfas, with the side that was normally blunt covered in wicked spikes and the ends resembling the barrels of a gun…which was exactly what they were, so. The professor mulled over her for a moment before glancing at the three boys beside her. Even without the words above their heads, I'd have recognized them as siblings by their facial structure, brown hair and eyes, and the similar symbols each bore. Hell, they even had matching stubble. I wonder if they coordinated their shaving.

The Bridge and the Toll

LV39

Toril Gronn

I've Got Two Spears

LV 31

Ethan Bruise

And I've Two Curling Stones

LV 35

Aaron Bruise

I'll Crush You to Bits, Body and Bones

LV 40

Laurence Bruise

Settling his gaze upon them, Adam smirked once and began to walk down to the arena, confidence in his stride.

"Oi," I said, stopping him lazily, closing my eyes and chuckling slightly. "You're not planning to tear them to pieces with your bare hands, are you?"

Adam paused for a moment before grunting with a shrug.

"Might as well," He answered with a roll of his eyes. "Consider it a handicap to make this a bit fairer."

"Now, now," I chided. "As the team leader, you're my responsibility—I can't very well let you fight without a weapon. Here, you can borrow mine until your replacement arrives."

I tossed him Crocea Mors, sheath and all.

"Just remember to bring him back when you're done," I commanded. "And don't make too much of a mess."

Adam snorted dismissively and rested the sheathed blade on his shoulder. By the time he completed his short trek down to the arena, his opponents were already waiting, with the girl looking eager and the boy's put-upon. I sort of felt bad for them, considering what they were being dragged into.

"Remember, this is just a sparring match," Dr. T said once they were all ready. "I know you're all eager to fight, but you're also allies; whatever happens, stop once your opponent's Aura reaches the red and be careful not to inflict any serious injuries upon each other. Other than that, Mistral rules apply."

I saw several students smirk at that. Mistral rules were pretty simple—the first one to die, loses. Or, in this case, the first one to go down; either way, he was essentially saying that anything goes.

"Now…begin!"

Adam launched forward the moment he had the go ahead, twirling Crocea Mors deftly before grabbing it by the sheath. Thrusting his hand forward suddenly, he launched the sword from its sheath, jabbing the youngest of the three brothers—Ethan—hard in the sternum with its hilt. Almost the moment the attack drove the younger boy back a step, Adam was upon him, sliding low and swinging with the sheath, knocking his feet out from under him. At the same time, he reached up with his left hand and grabbed his borrowed sword, rising even as he spun it like a windmill.

Seeing the attack on his brother—or, at least, seeing Adam abruptly in his brother's place—Aaron twisted in place and grit his teeth. Ports opened up on his curling ram-horn helmet even as a colored visor slide down to shield his eyes, and a series of Dust rounds began to launch from it, guided by the targeting system that had been built into the device.

Even so, he was too slow to react to Adam's flickering approach. Characters and calculations scrolled across his visor, giving him a moments warning as Adam brought his sword low to his right and swung it in a wide arc. He backed away at the last second and Adam's attack hit only air.

Granted, mostly because his left hand no longer held a sword. In mid-swing, he'd released the blade before continuing the motion of his attack as if he held it—and then, even as the first 'attack' completed, his right hand curled around its hilt and followed up, attacking from a completely different angle.

As the second brother went flying back, Adam's free hand snaked back around and grasped the sheath his right had released. With a quick button push, the shield began to expand and he threw it towards the eldest brother, momentarily obscuring his vision. Taking advantage of the opportunity to close in, Adam slammed his left hand into the back of the shield, smashing it into the younger man's face before making it retract back into a sheath with another button push as Laurence stumbled back.

Grasping the sheath like a second sword, Adam jabbed its end into the boy's stomach to force him even further off balance before angling Crocea Mors like he was preparing to hammer a nail into drywall. Thrusting it forward, he drove it straight into the sheath with enough force that Laurence's feet lifted into the air—but he did even have a chance to fly away before Adam grabbed the sheathed blade, spun quickly, and slammed it into the back of his head hard into to send cracks through the floor.

Cracking his neck as three bodies touched down, his eyes fell upon the final member of the team and he approached with calm, steady steps, slowly drawing his blade.

The fight ended moments after it began.