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"You make them do
what?"
Glynda wasn't sure upon what end of the spectrum her feelings lay, with regards to the mysterious fighter Ozpin had recently recruited into Beacon's staff. He preferred not be referred to as a Contractor or a Huntsman, and it seemed a bit odd to call him a 'Knight', archaic even, but not the most eccentric member of Beacon's staff by far. She appreciated the taciturn man's ability to cut to the heart of matters. Brevity after all is the soul of wit.
"I realize it may seem counter-intuitive, but these Students have spent at least five years already, three in one case, honing themselves and their bodies against the Creatures of Grimm," the teacher replied, the pair walking through the illustrious halls of Beacon Academy, bright and cheery with the chatter of students busily setting about their free morning. While she would have appreciated a more studious mindset in her pupils, many of the students were being visited by their parents who had mustered to the call of Vale in response to the Grimm migration. "And that is simply the first years. The other years have had access to live-fire exercises and supervised missions."
It said something that eighteen hours of active combat had barely winded the man in dark armor, even with more Grimm in need of culling due to recent activity. He moved within the strangely glowing suit smoothly, with a distinct lack of tension that only comes from someone too credulous and unwary, or the supremely dangerous. The manner in which he spaced himself between others, precise placement of his arms and legs, the mechanical turning of his head and keeping of careful sight lines, denoted a person who had trained for combat the majority of their life and never considered himself to be 'off-duty'. He certainly seemed qualified for the job as Assistant Combat Instructor, but was he fit to be around children?
A sharp glance from Richard Lonmouth showed he didn't believe the explanation, but it was hardly like she could explain the true reasoning, much less that she hadn't exactly agreed with it when Ozpin had first proposed the change years ago, after Team STRQ had for all intents and purposes disbanded. A lack of competent and trustworthy agents had meant efforts to refine a next generation, one capable of defending themselves against human actors, was necessary, especially seeing as how it wouldn't too negatively impact the students' ability to deal with routine Grimm extermination.
"If they're expected to compete against one another, it should be in groups," he noted as they approached the training hall. "Against an opponent they'll be expected to kill. All you're
really teaching them is bad habits." He scoffed at her affronted expression. "You know exactly what I mean. These are all..." he grasped for the right word, "...sanitized, too clean. There's no panic, confusion from the unexpected chaos of battle. If confronting other people is an inevitable reality, they should experience what it feels like as closely as is possible."
"Even if I wanted to subject my students to that kind of psychological torture," Glynda said, distantly horrified at the suggestion, "We just couldn't. Politics ties our hands together. Huntsmen and Huntresses haven't been trained for war anywhere, barring Atlas, since the Great War's conclusion. For good reasons." They entered, the ring currently occupied by a group of second years waiting for her supervision. She had other things to occupy her attention, she just didn't feel confident enough to leave this to Lonmouth without interacting with him, first.
Her voice lowered considerably in the presence of students at 'play' and those currently spectating: "Those who are trained in Aura, at these institutions, can take considerably more risks than ordinary people. Make compromises which suit the nature of their work. If even a quarter of the students left Beacon with
your disposition and outlook on life, they would attract Grimm in droves, which
is rather counter intuitive... " she trailed off dryly as he simply crossed is arms and waited. "...and it would likely lead to a very early grave." Just because they exterminate swarms of Grimm common to Vale and elsewhere claimed by human habitation, didn't mean the more untamed parts of Remnant didn't lay host to deadly and old specimens. Ones which entire teams of veterans would struggle against.
"Build armies, then," he replied bluntly. "And train your killers peer to peer and away from prying eyes, so as not to give away the game or the ability to guess their deficiencies. I'm told apprenticeships are still a thing." He shook his head as she made to reply, as if already writing her argument off without trying even to compromise. It was irritating, but it's not like she could simply explain just
why he was wrong. Circumstance had always tied one hand behind their backs with regards to staying ahead of their enemy, and while she was privy to everything Ozpin had shared with the man, she wasn't included in most of the discussion with regards to his own origins. Just that he was "an entity outside of their frame of reference".
Whatever that meant.
He was staring at the expectant students, muttering under his breath, 'give me three legions and a fleet, that would light their asses on fire'. He pointed out toward the two groups, who jumped at his louder, more
authoritative half-shout. "You and you, get the Hells out of the ring. I want to see two-on-twos, then we'll switch partners."
There was some shuffling around as they made to get ready. The first match went by quickly, and with the chime of Aura depleting sufficiently ended all too soon.
"You two, pair up." Glynda almost interrupted, before considering what Ozpin told her. The man had just ordered two teams to pair with members of the opposing team, and Miss Lazuli was so confused she nearly tripped on her way into the ring. He shook his head as team AMBR's leader made to protest, the young woman cutting off with a squeak before scrambling over the ropes. A moment later, he jumped into the ring.
"What happens if you're cut off from your team?" He questioned, and the teens stared in bemusement. "Really, truly, cut off. Injured, left for dead or ran away?" If they wanted to protest the rather cynical observations, they exercised the better part of valor in doing so. "Expect the unexpected. Stop standing around with a stupid expression on your face and
adapt. You're fighting alongside a stranger, you barely know each other's capabilities." He gestured at the other two students, "A team mate gets his head wrapped around inside out and now he's attacking you with the help of the person which had his head twisted. How do you deal with it?"
"Uh... try to knock him out?" Mister Ocher suggested tentatively.
"Don't tell me, show me how that works in practice. Begin!" He shouted, already two thirds of the way out the ring. The bell chimed before he had dropped back down to take up position beside her.
"If you're going to train killers," he said to her in a cool murmur that sent a chill up her spine, "...don't fucking half-ass it." He glared at her, causing her to instinctively reach for her crop. "It's doing them a disservice."
That she couldn't just let go. "To not ensure they're well-adjusted human and faunus beings, you mean!?" She hissed the words, more quietly than he had, but she was even more worried about leaving him alone with these students.
"To ensure they don't get themselves killed, with the severe misinformation being piled into their thick skulls." He nodded towards the ring with the fighting students, already floundering at the unusual situation. "I'm told those who learn here are encouraged to think non-conventionally, but the staff are non-confrontational. These... Huntsman and Huntresses," he tested the word, scowling, "...lack cohesion, they don't have
mettle. They waste time on frivolities they can't afford. "
Ah, Glynda thought,
he means the Faunus situation.
"They're children. They have time to learn!" That time she spoke louder, though admittedly without hope toward the second part of his observations, but only because she was growing beyond concern and becoming truly affronted by the man's lack of compassion.
"No one has time to learn anything," he told her much more solemnly, eventually gesturing at the two paired students, beginning to adapt despite all odds and even coordinate, though it slowed down the match significantly as they learned more about each other. "Give them four more years of this and the problems will become worse, more ingrained." He pointed out a few of the deficiencies he'd already spotted to her, ones that to her surprise she found she herself would have made at the end of the match. "If you can't make them confront that reality, of what's
expected of them, use the blunt edge of the blade and beat sense into them, instead.
Make them respect danger and the unknown, more, and pay less heed to conventional wisdom instead. If that conventional wisdom is being ignored by everyone else they'd be concerned by, it doesn't help them."
He sighed, turning to face her fully, hands waving off their confrontation seemingly building beneath the surface. "Overcoming what they
know they're already capable of will simply make them lower their guard, at times when they'll need it up the most. Makes them
cocky."
She smoothed her skirt. "The curriculum becomes more specialized, and focus on large scale cooperation between teams and tactics becomes more paramount to their success during their final years of tuition. Simply throwing them to the wolves, when they are so inexperienced, will actively discourage them." She worried at her crop, hand knuckles white and tightly gripped around the implement. "Most of our students already have to deal with the social pressure, isolation and expectations placed upon them, from having to train from a young age and maintain constant self-discipline." A student was nearly thrown out of the ring, barely avoiding the tide shifting with a clever use of their Semblance to grip the loose sand, hardening it and creating handholds. "To avoid hurting others or
themselves."
What more could be expected of them, when they were so young? Protecting the right to self expression was worth fighting a war over, so most of Vale would be up in arms over the idea of putting the next generation of their first line of defense through a meat grinder, just to turn out people who's main skill set was predominantly
violence. Simply having an awakened Aura would ensure they would always be targeted by Grimm, making life stressful enough.
"I didn't consider how difficult it might be for them to stay positive while learning," Richard surprisingly conceded as the match progressed toward its end, "But they can still learn more from each other by testing boundaries." He eventually cast a sardonic look toward her. "Not everything is doom and gloom where I hail. We laugh and love and live."
Even when there's not much to laugh about, or much time for love to be had, the unspoken message went.
Even when it's hard to find the will to go on and keep living.
"Just please don't misplace the faith the Headmaster has placed in you," she replied wearily, "I take it I can leave the rest to you?"
He waved her off again, silently observing the spar just about to reach its conclusion. Glynda didn't quite storm off, but did leave feeling conflicted and unable to form a final opinion on the man.
He seemed deeply troubled.
OOC:
Since this is non-canon, I don't need permission. Neener!
