Tannum "Cooper" Oakwood
-----
Shouting every known curse in the book, Cooper flung a pebble at the ice wall.
Sunlight drilled the frost while the erratic hammering of howls and gunfire chiseled its way through, carving the worst possible things out of his imagination.
Cooper dug into his rucksack for anything. His heart sank. Nothing except spare Dust arrows, crystals, and vials that were currently useless without enough Aura to regulate the output.
There was always the smash-boom-done method.
However, he couldn't guarantee whether or not his rump would still be intact afterwards.
Cooper wanted to burn the vest Alexander left behind.
The bear pranced on by, yawning and stretching himself out as if he wasn't slapped silly by that Beowolf.
Hold on.
He was completely unscathed.
Was it possible?
It couldn't be. . .
Cooper rallied his scattered hopes at the furry sack of gold and rubbed the lumpy spot on the bear's noggin.
"Oi, I got a job for you, mate."
The bear yipped.
"You know what this is?" He held up a fire crystal. "This is Dust. It can only be properly used with Aura. I don't have much Aura at the moment." He pointed at his snout. "But you have Aura. Think you can figure it out?"
Question marks popped within the bear's beady, little eyes.
"It's not hard." Cooper placed the crystal next to the ice. "Touch the thing and give it a tid bit of juice."
The bear wandered over and nudged the crystal.
"Don't be scared if it gets hot, yeah. You're doing a good job." Cooper flicked a double thumbs up. "I believe in ya!"
After a few more tries, the crystal glowed hot, instantly melting the ice into a steaming puddle.
Cooper threw a fist in the air. "Score!"
The crystal glowed brighter.
Butterflies fluttered in his stomach. "Uh-oh."
Heavy steam filled the cave, and the ticking time bomb flashed.
Poof!
Cooper coughed, fanned the smoke out of his face, and deadpanned at the soot soaked bear rolling in place with his tongue hanging out.
"Okay." He rubbed some tender, love, and care into the singed tips of his tail. "Let's get to work."
-----
Leon Alexander Gates
-----
No matter how little he had left in him or how much his body begged him to stop, nothing else went through Alexander's mind other than three simple words.
Breathe. Move. Fight.
Alexander punted a Beowolf across the jaw and crushed its neck with Tereo's rim. A Boarbatusk rammed his shield. He folded over. The boar staggered, shaking its head. Alexander scrambled, tackled, and skewered it. Rapid footfall rushed his rear. The second it took him to realize something was coming was a second too late. A Creep gnawed him like a raw steak. Chomping on a scream, he smacked it off. It went in for seconds and got a full serving of cold steel.
Beowolves rushed past the treeline, followed by an Ursa Major.
Alexander swallowed sand and met them halfway.
A spam of buckshots were enough to put down most of them. The last Beowolf got close and lunged for his throat. Alexander's knee faltered mid-stride. The Beowolf skimmed past overhead. He face planted, pushed himself up on his ass, and shot it dead before it could get the jump on him.
The Ursa pounced.
Alexander tucked under Tereo. The bear pressed him in the dirt. His own shield crushed his chest. He groaned and fought just to breathe. The blood rushed to his head until it was ready to burst.
'Come on!' he thought and struggled to get his sword arm free. 'Come on!'
Alexander wriggled, wormed, and twisted as much as he could, and when he finally got it loose, he pinned Tharros into the Ursa's belly. It howled and collapsed, sticking itself to the ground thanks to the array of bone spikes on its back.
Gulping a boat load's worth of air, Alexander clawed up the bear's fur and hacked open that thick ass gut. The Ursa shrieked and flailed. He tore deeper and deeper. Fat, fur, sinew, and red ooze stained the vivid greenery. Driving the blade all the way in and pulling the trigger, a fountain of whatever wasn't already ripped apart gushed. Red iron ran slick between his helmet slit, he spat out any that stained his tongue, and huffed away the steaming innards evaporating into his nostrils.
While it was clear, Alexander leaned against the Ursa and spent the precious moment to relieve the pressure from his legs.
A caw stopped his heart.
From above, a feather grazed his arm. More rained and pummeled his shield, but after the flurry ended, he snapped a spear-like spike off the Ursa's corpse and javelined it at the Nevermore, clipping a wing.
It squawked and teetered past the trees where the canopy of leaves rustled.
Something swam in the branches. Alexander's stomach tightened. Wood groaned. Twigs snapped. The forest shivered. It grew louder. Shadows raced along the treeline's edge.
Suddenly, it stopped.
A black and white blur catapulted to the skies, meteoring in the middle of the glade.
The ground rumbled. Dust and dirt puffed up in a cloud, and what came out dragged Alexander straight to the deep end.
Of all things, a Beringel stood across the ring, glaring like a fighter waiting for the bell.
Who would've thought that the stories Port puked out in Grimm Studies weren't actually a waste of time?
Exactly like he described, the gorilla had meaty arms that could curl cars. Bone armour protected its entire chest, ribs, and face, and if everything Port said was true, then they were also tougher than a cheap cut of beef.
The Beringel snarled a challenge, and Alexander snorted in acceptance.
Like a drum, the Beringel beat its chest and lumbered forward. Alexander hauled ass and fired; the buckshot bounced off its armour.
Need a better shot.
Lefts and rights came at him like rush hour. He tried to stay light and nimble, but the lead in his leg kept that from happening, forcing him to throw himself to clear those boulder sized fists and swipe at the groin, thighs, and shins whenever he could.
Alexander's bad knee cried out.
The Beringel's knuckles clubbed Tereo. He skidded a line in the dirt. The shield rang, and a shudder ran along his skin. The ape lunged. He jerked aside and punched Tharros clean through its bicep.
That didn't stop it from snatching Tereo.
With one hand, the Beringel hoisted Alexander and shoveled him in the dirt. The wind emptied from his lungs. His spine screamed for it to stop. The Beringel slowly raised him higher as if to finish him off with one big move. In that moment of pause, Alexander quickly charged his Semblance enough to blast free. He bounced somewhere near the cliff wall, barely having a chance to recover before a glint caught the corner of his eye.
Deflecting the projectile off his shield, it embedded the grass beside him, and he gasped at the fact it was Tharros, thrown like an oversized axe.
Alexander winced at the throbs stabbing his spine and bad knee from the simplest movements.
The Beringel looked around, grunting and nudging the dead Grimm scattered across the glade. It picked up a Creep and cocked its arm. A full dose of what was about to happen injected adrenaline and then some directly into Alexander's gas tank. He stepped up to the plate, dug his heels, and burned the whole damn thing.
Like a ball, the ape flung the corpse.
He shield-smacked it over at a nearby tree, snapping it in half.
Eyes locked, they glowered in understanding.
The pitches came in endless waves. The batting session wore out every muscle down to the fiber. Sweat pooled lava into his eyes. Tereo became the heaviest thing on the field, and the pressure from the monkey on the mound only got crazier from there on out.
Grumbling as if it were annoyed, the Beringel noticed the dead Ursa.
No. . .
The gorilla jumped to it, and with a strained roar, the Beringel heaved and hurled the boulder of meat.
Plucking Tharros, Alexander cranked back his arm all the way, yelled, and bullet boosted his swing. Steel cleaved the meaty ball asunder like fruit, splattering Ursa juice and flesh onto the rocky wall behind him.
He slumped onto his sword and did his best to stay standing.
The grass rustled. He peeked up. A backhand sent him flying and rebounding off the wagon.
Funny.
Compared to the pain digging all over, the dread of the bronze light flaring and disintegrating around him sunk in deeper.
'Come on,' he thought and wrestled his rising panic. 'Keep it together. Don't lose it now.'
Supplies fell from the newly formed cracks in the wagon, and a glass bottle of rubbing alcohol rolled up against his foot.
The Beringel barreled, beating its chest once more.
Alexander's body moved on its own.
Grabbing the bottle as the ape closed in, he waited until he could see the red of its eyes to throw and dive out of the way.
The bottle shattered, followed by a mind shaking shrill.
Like a fish out of water, the Beringel fumbled about, scratching its face and randomly swatting at nothing.
Alexander limped pointed blank and blasted a melon sized hole out of the unprotected part of its stomach.
Finally, it's ove—
The Beringel clamped Alexander's head and whipped him down.
Everything went red. A high-pitch buzz blared his skull. His body shut down for a moment, and he could only watch as the ape's hand wrapped his torso.
It squeezed.
The strangling of his ribs about to snap at any given moment stirred him wide awake.
He fired.
Click!
Growling at the increasing pressure and difficulty to simply breathe, he piled all his hopes in one last ditch effort to finally kill this thing.
Alexander threw Tharros as hard as he could, lodging it in the Beringel's neck.
It staggered back towards the ice wall.
Whether it was intentional or just plain bad luck, it collapsed while holding him up like a roller coaster car sitting on the highest part of the tracks, and after giving him a good glimpse of what was coming next, everything crashed down.
Alexander braced behind his shield and cracked off the ice, thudding to the ground like a sack of dead weight.
Frozen shards sprinkled around him.
The world wobbled like waves.
Moving hurt. Breathing hurt. Thinking hurt.
'Just hang on.' He forced himself to stand. 'Just keep hanging on.'
Alexander stumbled and wheezed, holding onto the ice wall to keep him steady, but he lost balance and slid down to his ass.
The frigid heat searing his skin kept him awake, yet it wasn't enough to hold up the weight in his eyes and keep the dreams away.
-----
Red hot embers blanketed the ground, flickering, popping, and providing a sliver of warmth beneath the thick smoke blotting out the sun.
Leon's world went still when a woman appeared and watched the ruins of his home wither from the front gate.
Sweeping a few golden strands behind an ear, she turned towards him. Ash smothered her dark dress. Love and delight still found a way to her lips. Arms stretched wide, she called to him. He hurried over, but when they came within reach, she crumbled, shrouding him in the fleeting embrace of his mother's remains as he tripped.
A boy suddenly appeared, cradled and cooked in his lap.
Leon refused to look, yet Chrysos' laboured huffs pierced his soul. A gentle breeze passed by. He crumbled, leaving behind a single golden handkerchief buried in his remains.
Father towered over him with Tereo and Tharros.
"Son," he said and placed the weapons in front of him, "you're not done yet."
Leon nodded. "Not even close."
Father smirked. "Do you remember what I told you?"
"Yeah."
"Good." He held out his hand. "Now, take position."
Leon clasped his forearm, and father pulled him up.
-----
A guttural cry yanked Alexander back to reality.
Grimm coming out the treeline whimpered and retreated, making way for the presence to come.
Trees parted, branches twisted and cracked, leaves clamored, and echoing thumps boomed louder every passing seconds.
A Boarbatusk, either ignorant or too dumb to notice the bulky silhouette coming up behind it in the shadows, prepared to charge rather than move.
Jagged teeth clamped and hoisted it to the sky between mighty jaws.
Four bulging legs supported the semi-truck that rolled into the glade. Its skull was pointed and narrow like a wolf. A furless hide covered it all over, and other than the giant horn sticking out from the nape of its neck and connecting to the fin on its spine, there wasn't a piece of bone in sight.
The safe bet would be to guess this was the Grimm responsible for stealing all those wagons.
What a bad joke.
Alexander unstrapped his knee brace and pulled out his handkerchief.
'Always stand,' he thought.
The Grimm crunched the boar tighter between the rows of swords.
'Always fight.'
He tied the handkerchief tight to his knee.
The Grimm tossed the Boarbatusk into the forest and sauntered closer, swaying it's long and muscular tail like a flag caught in the wind of victory.
'We are strong, and the strong protect all.' He slipped the knee brace back on and picked himself up. 'That's the Lion's Law.'
"I guess this is it," said Alexander. He stood tall and stared death in the face. "You're probably wondering how I taste, huh? Well, I hope you know how to chew. Cause let me warn you right now: I'm a choking hazard, asshole." He pointed his sword. "I ain't a bitch who goes down smooth. I bite back!"
Steam sizzled near the bottom edge of the ice. The muddy waters pooling around his boots drenched him in utter confusion as a hole melted in the wall.
The bear cub dashed out, covered in soot, and Cooper crawled out right after, lobbing an arrow and dousing the Grimm's face in flames.
It bellowed and swatted to no avail.
Alexander wiped his eyes to make sure this was really happening.
Cooper poked Alexander's sore ribs with his bow. "Don't ever do that again."
He could barely find the words let alone the strength to speak.
Shouting hooked his ear, and what came next filled him with so much relief, he fell flat on his ass.
Roderick and Stiofan burst out the treeline while Goodwitch flicked her riding crop at the fiery sky, launching a purple ball up high to form thundering black clouds. She brought her arm down. A hail of giant icicles stormed the forest and anything caught within met instant death.
However, rather than being impaled like the rest, the icicles shattered against the Grimm with the fin, forcing it to retreat.
Soon after the clouds parted, the trio came running.
Roderick tripped and slid between them but got up like nothing happened, joy, concern, and probably every other known emotion in existence caking his face.
"Alex, Cooper!"
"Move, Mister Hill." Goodwitch kneeled in front of Alexander. "Stand guard with your partner!"
Roderick nodded, taking defensive measures beside Stiofan.
The professor removed his helmet, and he avoided her soft yet stern gaze.
"Mister Gates, it's alright now. I'll take care of you." She levitated him to the wagon. "Mister Oakwood, follow me. I want to examine you as well."
While she provided quick medical treatment with an extra scolding on the side, the Grimm with the fin returned, angrier than ever.
Roderick gawked. "Uh, professor, what is that thing?"
"I hoped I was seeing things earlier, but I guess that's just not the case." Despite hardening her expression, it couldn't hide the blood draining from her face. "That's an Axeman."
Alexander tried to stand.
"Hold it, right there!" Goodwitch waved her riding crop at him like a knife, and an invisible force kept him in place. "You've done enough. We will handle the situation from here."
She marched away to join the others.
Alexander did his best to keep it together, but his eyelids were heavy, slowly shuttering the world out of sight.
"Oi, this ain't the time to take a nap." Cooper shook him. "We're not done yet."
Alexander blinked and stared.
"By the way, you owe me one for leaving me behind." He hummed and tapped his chin. "How about this?"
Cooper cleared his throat and continued.
"Once we get our rumps off this dance floor, why don't we talk about some lore." He made a bunch of dumb gestures. "I want an encore from that night of yore. Tell me about the man at the core." He tugged his lips. "And smile, I implore. Never seen you do that before."
The bear squeaked and nuzzled Alexander's leg.
"I call that a roar for more." The archer offered a hand. "Therefore, it's a rapport."
Alexander snorted.
"Not even close." He clapped a hold of his forearm. "To war."