Four ABSN Souls

Jaune Arc. A name that was bestowed upon a young boy in the form of a prettied package. This young one would be in charge of continuing on his family's legacy of heroic deeds as his ancestors have. This was considered to be the highest honor to ever be bestowed upon an Arc or so Jaune's father had insisted to little 4-year-old Jaune. Oh how foolish he was to believe such words.

This "honor" that his father and grandfather so spoke of was all just a farce to hide how much of a burden that it was; a burden that would forever be pressing on his shoulders like a million bricks. It only got heavier as Jaune got older especially during times when Jaune was to prove himself. Jaune's father insisted that Jaune carry on the same fighting style as him: with a sword and a shield, a style worthy for that of a heroic knight (again according to Jaune's father) all while wielding the legendary Crocea Mors. Jaune tried to replicate it, he truly did, but his body type wasn't attuned for such. He was too lithe, more suited to finesse rather than strength, but Jaune's father wasn't swayed sure that Jaune would bulk out as years went by.

The years went by indeed, but Jaune remained at a stand still and as those years went by Jaune became very aware of how the world was cruelly starting to reject him. At school:

"Oh great it's the weakling."

"Hah, what a loser!"

"C'mon crybaby, what's the matter?"

"Get away from me, Vomit Boy!"

As he walked the streets of his hometown:

"Hey look, it's the next of kin for the Arc family, hah!"

"It seems that the great Arc legacy ends with that one."

"You think they're going to try and get another son so that they can replace that embarrassment?"

Even when he was at his own household:

"Mom why is he so weak?"

"He's not worthy of holding Crocea Mors!"

"Damn it Jaune! Stop being so lazy! Do you wish to embarrass our entire family?!"

There was no safe haven for Jaune, no person to talk to, nobody to hold him while he cried. Perhaps for a small while he saw some comfort from his mother, but even she saw him as weak. While she never voiced it, she showed it through her actions, how she always seemed to baby him more than the rest and that was a greater insult than anything his father had said to him.

And so Jaune closed himself off, he put on the façade that he was listening to his father, he allowed his mother to get her way, he ignored the hurtful comments thrown his way. He would endure it all for what Jaune Arc lacked in physical strength, he excelled in with his mental capacity. Any other child would have succumbed to self-loathing and maybe even suicide, but not Jaune. Jaune simply did what he did best: he improvised.

Jaune realized long ago that his ancestor's fighting style was not suited to his tastes, so at the dead of night when nobody was watching, Jaune did his own training with a style that was unique to him. It was hard at first, but eventually, Jaune mastered the technique to the point of perfection all while holding the guise of trying to master a century old technique and Crocea Mors was perfect for the job. Jaune hid his emotional hurt with a goofy exterior and locked it all away in his heart. Let them all believe that Jaune Arc was a loser who was bad at everything and couldn't fight to save his life. He would show them all soon enough that Jaune Arc was a name that would be worthy of praise and he would do it his way.

By the end of his second year of his combat school Jaune was told that he should give up trying to become a hunter; Jaune couldn't disagree more, but held his tongue and politely took the advice in and threw it out the other ear. Yes, perhaps it was too late to actually prove his worth in the traditional sense, but what was stopping Jaune from becoming the hero he wanted to be by other means. And so Jaune decided to carve his own path towards being a hunter, declaring as much on a farewell letter before leaving his home and taking Crocea Mors with him (as it was his birthright). During his travels, Jaune had plenty of opportunities to taste the fruit of all of his hard work against many native Grimm in the forests surrounding his hometown. Jaune found this as an opportunity to train more in a more practical sense and if it exterminated some of the Grimm threat along with it, all the better. It was during this journey that Jaune discovered another rather useful trait that he possessed: Luck.

It was this trait that allowed for a certain someone to witness Jaune taking down four ursi without breaking a sweat a couple of years later. This person happened to be none other than the legendary headmaster of Beacon Academy himself. Thoroughly impressed by Jaune's display, the man offered Jaune a place in his prestigious academy, an offer that Jaune couldn't refuse.

And so Jaune stood a week later looking up at the dust plane ready to taxi a fresh batch of hunters in training to Beacon. On his person he wore a plain black undershirt along with a pair of navy blue combat pants. Over his shirt he wore a white hooded-wool coat that was red on the inside and ended by the coattails at the back of his knees. The hood itself covered most of Jaune's features except for his mouth. His hands and feet were covered by a pair of black combat boots and a matching pair of fingerless leather gloves. Fastened to Jaune's waist was the ever faithful Crocea Mors still ready for battle despite being centuries in age and on Jaune's back sat a weapon of Jaune's own design: an elegant wooden bow carved by Jaune himself along with the arrows that sat in a leather quiver (also of Jaune's design) strapped across Jaune's back.

If Jaune were to look into the mirror right at this moment, he would most likely allow himself a small moment of pride for how far he had come before hiding behind his goofy persona once again.

The time for celebration will come when I can finally return home with my head held high.

While Jaune was indeed carving his own future, deep inside he still loved his family and only wanted them to be proud of him for what he did, not just doing something that he was expected to do… what he couldn't do.

Beacon was Jaune's chance, a chance to finally gain the pride of his family, of his peers, and, though he may not realize it, himself.

Ut eques superbia tandem recuperare.

Blake. A name that a young orphan girl bestowed upon herself not really knowing whom her parents were or if they were even still alive. All she knew was that she was on her own and finding a name for herself was a good place to start. Blake learned very young that her kind was not welcome in most parts of the city, her kind being the faunus. Yes, Blake was a faunus, a cat faunus to be precise showing through the two appendages sticking out of her head. It was due to these appendages that hurtful words were thrown at her as she was beaten and tossed aside.

Freak.

Animal.

Beast.

Monster.

These were words that Blake became very well acquainted with thus adding to her already harsh life, a life that would have most likely ended very young if it weren't for the actions of one kind-hearted older feline faunus by the name of Margaret Belladonna. Margaret found Blake beaten and left for dead in an alleyway by a group of cruel humans and immediately took her in. At first Blake acted like any abused orphan would: closed off and cold, but with time, she soon warmed up to Margaret and soon Blake started to see the kind woman in a better light. A short time after Margaret decided to adopt Blake as her own and thus Blake Belladonna was born.

Blake soon learned of Margaret's involvement in a peaceful faunus organization known as the White Fang that sought for equal rights for faunus through peaceful protest. Upon hearing this Blake immediately wanted to help and proclaimed so to Margaret with such spirit that the latter simply couldn't refuse. And so Blake stood at Margaret's side at every event set up by the White Fang, calling for the end of all wrongs against faunus kind. It wasn't an ideal life, but Blake was happy, finally able to share her sorrows with another and slowly open up once again. Blake even received her first gift from Margaret: a black bow that nestled atop her head so that Blake could walk around freely without resentment at least until faunus equality was reached. She wished for things to stay the way they were for the rest of eternity just her and Margaret happy as can be. Oh how naïve she was to believe this.

It happened during another White Fang led march for peace. It started off like all the others; the members of the White Fang grouped up holding their respective signs and parched down a busy street calling for their cause to be heard with Blake and Margaret at the forefront. Behind them other faunus of the same thought would rally behind them and grow in number. Little did they peaceful group know, the governor had finally become fed up with the constant chanting and decided to deal with it: violently.

Everything happened so fast for Blake. One moment they were walking forth calling for the equal treatment of faunus, the next, a battalion of uniformed and armed police officers cut them off and then: chaos. At first it was tier gas causing mass confusion as the faunus suffered more from the aftereffects due to their augmented senses. Then, during that confusion, the sounds of guns being fired caused confusion to turn to full blown panic. Margaret had immediately tried to get Blake to safety through the chaos. At first it seemed that they would make it out without much injury, but a single crack of a gun turned Blake's world upside down.

There was no official funeral for Margaret as many believed that there was no need for faunus to be buried like humans so Blake took upon herself to do the deed. The emotions that went through Blake at that point were many, but one stood above them all: a harsh, seering anger. It flowed through her entire body like a sickness, but Blake kept it at bay saving it for the ones responsible for taking away her happiness. When the White Fang took a turn from a peace-loving organization to a radical group of terrorists, Blake didn't bat an eye, relishing the chance for vengeance. It started with simple boycotts and breaking small businesses to get a message across, but as time went by the White Fang began to militarize and train its members. Blake included. It was during this time of training that Blake created her precious weapon: Gambol Shroud. With it she joined her brothers and sisters in a campaign of revenge against the cruel police force. Blake hadn't forgotten what they did to Margaret and the fires of hatred still burned strong. It was during the campaign that Blake took her first life and in turn allowed Gambol Shroud to taste blood… human blood and she enjoyed it. With this Blake continued to kill those who didn't deserve to live in her eyes feeling that vengeance was finally being served through her and her trusted weapon.

As the killing progressed and the blood haze began to die, however, Blake started to realize what she was doing. It only sat as an idle afterthought that she may have take things too far, but what really brought it to the forefront was when Blake found a picture of a family from the corpse of a man that she had killed. It was then and there that Blake remembered Margaret's teachings, remembered what the White Fang had truly sought and what it became now. And most importantly Blake came to the horrifying realization that she herself was turning into the things that she didn't want to be. A Freak. An Animal. A Beast. A Monster. Blake thought of how disappointed Margaret would have been in her and that thought alone stopped Blake from being consumed by the darkness.

That did not by any means free her from her sins, she knew that she had done wrong to many with the lives she had taken and she also began to realize just how radical this new White Fang had become. It had started with the actually corrupt individuals, but soon the scope of the White Fang turned upon all of humanity seeing it as a plague to be burned. That was genocide and Blake wouldn't stand for it. This didn't make her out right leave, however, for one thing or rather one person kept her leashed to the darkening organization: Adam.

Adam Taurus was a friend that Blake had made during the time that the White Fang had first transitioned, he was there by her side as they trained for vengeance, he was the one who helped her make Gambol Shroud. It was he who allowed her to keep her heart open to the world even when it was so cruelly shattered by Margaret's death. Blake hoped by staying with him she could slowly persuade him that this new White Fang was in the wrong and that equality for faunus kind could be attained by less radical means. Adam would not be swayed and Blake could only helplessly watch as the darkness slowly consumed yet another person who she opened her heart to.

It was during a raid of a Schnee Company cargo train that Blake finally drew the line. Adam was more than ready to end the lives of the many crewmembers that were aboard the train. It was then that Blake finally had to accept that her friend was gone and thus Blake closed her heart once again and cut all ties from the White Fang, from Adam. But Blake knew that that wasn't the end for her hands were still coated with blood and she needed much more than water to get it all off. Blake wanted to atone, to right her wrongs somehow to the best of her ability, to make a difference in the world she so cruelly spat on. And so she turned to a very interesting career path: becoming a Huntress.

Blake immediately turned to Beacon, the top school for budding huntsmen but due to her background she knew a resume wouldn't cut it and so she approached the headmaster himself using her superior stealth that she had acquired in her years as an assassin for the White Fang. She explained her situation and her inspiration and to her relief the headmaster seemed to accept it and allowed her entry.

And so Blake stood at the terminal waiting to board the dust plane to Beacon where her new future awaited her. She wore the attire that she had woven for herself during her time in the white fang: a white-sleeveless undershirt with a matching pair of short shorts and a black, buttoned vest with coattails. Over her feet and legs was a long pair of black/purple stockings that reached her hips. Over the stockings she wore a pair of black low-heeled boots and around each forearm she had a black ribbon. These ribbons were simply for décor in Blake's mind for they held nothing of value in comparison to the ribbon that sat nestled upon Blake's head keeping her faunus heritage hidden from the world and reminding Blake of what she had lost but wishes she could undo. Strapped to her back was the weapon that reminded her of her sins and of what the White Fang had taken from her. These were her burdens that she would bear to her grave, but Blake hoped that she would be able to at least lighten them before she got there.

Beacon was Blake's chance, a chance to at least begin to atone for all of the mistakes she made in the past and for tarnishing everything Margaret believed in.

Sit invenies propitiationem sicarius.

Weiss Schnee. A name that was bestowed upon a young girl by her mother at upon her dying breath. It was a name that her father associated to her mother's killer. Throughout her early stages of life Weiss grew up not even knowing what her father looked like besides the hazy images of him when she looked upon him as an infant. The family she knew consisted of Schnee family faunus servants who cared for her and saw to her needs. For a while Weiss was content with this despite the sadness she felt of not seeing her father, the kindness of the servants filled the void she had in her heart that he had left behind. Unfortunately for Weiss this pleasant life would come to a swift halt.

She was ten when it happened. The day was peaceful enough, with Weiss helping some of the servants tend the garden. The garden was open to the world, but Weiss felt that she was safe with her family there to care for her and thus when one of the servants requested that she follow him, she agreed without a thought. Before she even knew what was happening, Weiss was suddenly thrown into a van a spirited away to some unknown warehouse where she was tied to a chair and left alone in the dark. It was here where Weiss discovered that the servant that helped these kidnappers and the kidnappers themselves were a part of a group known as the White Fang, an organization hell bent on doing bad things to the world in Weiss' mind.

During her time of captivity Weiss could only feel the dreaded feeling of betrayal and grief. One of the people that she had come to trust as family turned around and stabbed her in the heart. As each day in captivity passed Weiss' grief turned to bitter resentment towards her captors and from there to all faunus kind. To her every faunus was a lowlife degenerate that held some sort of affiliation to the White Fang. Even after the police had finally rescued her and returned her to her father, this view only grew stronger. Thus when Weiss returned home, she greeted the same servants that she once looked upon with warmth and happiness with a emotionless mask as cold as ice.

In the years onward Weiss completely cut any familiar ties with her servants, looking upon each of them with unwavering suspicion and it was during this period of her life that her father had finally decided to talk to her. At first Weiss felt a small bit of happiness surface that the prospect of finally meeting her father for the first time in a long time. Perhaps it was a small hope that she had held onto like a life line that maybe, just maybe her father would open up to her and perhaps see her as a part of his family. Oh how incredibly idiotic she was for thinking so.

The only reason that her father was speaking to her was because an older sister that Weiss never knew she even had was no longer fit to take charge of the company and thus the duty had fallen upon her. This should have cost another bout of grief upon the fact that she was a simple afterthought to her father and nothing more, but in reality Weiss felt… nothing. It was almost as if she were an empty husk with no purpose in life so what could she do either than allow her father to mold her into the perfect heiress to his empire through many harsh teachings and numeral lessons on how to be a proper lady. It was like this for years to come all of them with Weiss convincing herself that she would only be worthy in her father's eyes through absolute perfection. It was as if a miniscule part of her still stubbornly held onto this pointless hope for love in a world that had none to give. At least that was her viewpoint until she met her sister for the first time.

The meeting was an awkward one to say the least. Weiss' father called for a family dinner, which ended up being more of a meeting with food being served in front of them. Weiss was of course in the seat closest to her father, but it felt so far away despite the proximity. Sitting across from her was a girl named Winter Schnee who was apparently her sister. At first Weiss didn't pay the other girl any mind thinking that Winter would be the same as her father: cold and calculating; wanting nothing less than perfection. Weiss was proven completely wrong when Weiss and Winter were sent away so that their father could speak privately with his advisors allowing the sisters to speak in private. It was then that Weiss discovered that Winter was nothing like her father and actually held a kind persona full of warmth despite her name. What really broke through Weiss' emotionless façade was a single, soft sentence that Winter whispered:

"You look just like mother…"

Winter told Weiss of their shared mother, the kind hearted woman that held the same cerulean tint as Weiss' own eyes and had long flowing hair as white as snow. Winter told her of a woman that was kind to everyone around her, how she had the love of her servants, her daughter… her husband. While all of this brought a small bit of happiness for Weiss knowing who her mother was, it also brought another emotion to the surface: guilt. Here was a woman who had the love of everyone around her and Weiss came along and ended the life of such kind soul. Before Weiss could fall into the pit of self-loathing, however, Winter pulled her right back out with another sentence that would stay with her forever as well as change how she thought of her life:

"Mother wouldn't want you to be like this, she loved you more than you will ever know…"

It was due to Winter that Weiss allowed the floodgates sealing her heart to open up somewhat thanks to the love that her sister was showing her as well as the love that her mother had even through death. It was then that Weiss decided that she needed to break free of her father's suffocating clutches and that was how she came across the idea of becoming a huntress… and also starting up a new hair style.

Winter did not see Weiss differently for this change and for that she was grateful, but Weiss' father on the other hand…

"After everything I have given you, wish to pursue such a pathetic excuse of a career?!"

Had Weiss not met Winter she would never had even spoken out against her father in such a way, but a bout of icy determination sprung the depths of Weiss' soul. It was so strong that Weiss had the audacity to challenge her father to combat. The result was a duel with a dust powered Schnee Guardian, a high tech robot designed to be able to use dust to augment its attacks much like a trained hunter did with aura. The conditions of the duel were simple: win and Weiss would be able to do as she wished, lose and Weiss would be banished from the Schnee family. Weiss was given a week to prepare and it was during that week that Winter helped Weiss design and forge the one thing in life that the latter could be truly proud of: Myrtenaster.

It was with this weapon that faced the Schnee Guardian and walked away victorious with a scar upon her left eye to prove her feat (as well as further ruin her father's image of the perfect heiress). Weiss' father sneered at her victory:

"You were never worthy to be the Schnee head anyway."

Despite saying this, the man stayed true to his word and made the necessary arrangements to get Weiss into Beacon Academy, the most prestigious school for budding huntsmen.

And so Weiss stood with her luggage of dust behind her as she looked upon the vessel that would take her to her new destiny. On her person she wore a white combat dress that faded to cobalt as it to the end of the skirt with a black frilled undershirt with only a small portion at her chest showing. Over it all was a white bolero jacket that was red at the inside. Her look was completed with a pair of white heeled wedge boots.

This was where it would start. Here Weiss would carve out her own destiny and break free of the shackles that her father tried to restrain her with. She would aspire to conserve her mother's image, or the image that her beloved sister had supplied her with. And while she still held a bit of resentment to the White Fang (…okay maybe more than just a bit) she made it a personal mission to try to keep it the resentment from spreading to all faunus. With all this she would make her father recognize her for the woman that she became through her own trials and not the ones that he created for her.

Beacon was Weiss' chance to gain the recognition that she truly desired from her father and all others who simply saw her as "the Schnee heiress".

Ut reginae agnitionis invenies illa meretur.

Pyrrha Nikos. A name given to a girl who was considered to be a prodigy of war craft at a very young age. The name held very little meaning at first, but thanks to Pyrrha's natural grace in athletics she quickly made that name one to be remembered by many. It was a name that belonged to a true goddess of the battlefield of any combat form whether it be by blade or by rifle. Naturally this got Pyrrha a lot of attention and praise and it only grew stronger due to her humble personality. She was the perfect warrior, a paragon that all others should strive for and for a while she was made to believe that this was a feat to be proud of. Oh how ignorant she was to believe this.

As days dragged on Pyrrha began to notice that most of her "friends" were not really friends at all. They simply wanted the attention that comes with being acquainted with somebody of high regard and high-reaching fame. When Pyrrha discovered this there was bitterness at first, but before it could surface she swallowed it down and hid it behind her practiced smile. Her father had said that she couldn't let her image be tainted by a frown and so she kept up her smile almost to the point where she could almost consider it a mask. It was perfect really, a fake smile to shield her real emotions from equally fake friends. Still, Pyrrha couldn't help but hope that perhaps someday, real friends would come around, but until then she would keep her mask on and lock away every negative feeling that she had.

As days turned to months Pyrrha began to really feel the stress that came with being famous. The constant droning of the paparazzi, the constant love letters from adoring fans, the endless badgering of companies who wanted her face on their products. The media closely just waiting for her to make a mistake was watching every move that Pyrrha made. It was like she was dangling helplessly above a pit of hungry sharks ready tear her apart if she so much as breathed wrong. It was suffocating, but her father insisted that she would have to get used to it as such was the price of being held at such high regard. And so Pyrrha kept on smiling forcing down the stress she felt to keep on the façade that she was the "Invincible Spartan" that the people had come to know and love.

As months turned into years Pyrrha started to see that her family was affected by the fame she possessed almost brainwashed by it. Her father had become engrossed with all the revenue that came with all her sponsors and thus continued to push her to keep going completely ignoring her plight.

"Keep on smiling Pyrrha! You're doing the Nikos family proud!"

Pyrrha's mother enjoyed the attention that was given to her by the media being the mother of the prodigy and therefore was also completely blind to her daughter's needs.

"What was that darling? Can it wait for a few minutes I'm heading down to the mall so I've got to look pretty for the cameras!"

It was here that Pyrrha had come to realize just how much she wanted to break free from it all. She didn't want this, any of it. The fame, the sponsors, the attention from the masses; she wanted it all gone like a distant memory or a nightmare. She wanted to live a normal life and have normal friends who saw her for her and not some paragon to be put upon a pedestal and revered. She wanted release all of her pent up emotions upon the press, upon her fake friends, upon her ignorant parents. She wanted to finally be able to breath… But she couldn't. Pyrrha Nikos was many things: talented, smart, kind, the list goes on and on… but sad and angry weren't on there. Pyrrha Nikos would never turn her back to her fans. Pyrrha Nikos would never let the cameras get to her as the pressed down upon her. Pyrrha Nikos would never lash out at her parents no matter how ignorant they may be.

With all these things Pyrrha found a horrifying truth: she was trapped. For too long she hid within a practiced mask of kindness hiding the real her from the rest of the world in order to keep up an image. She had squeezed herself into a two-dimensional persona and was now trapped within with no real way of getting out. If she ever did try, the press would immediately embed its gangly claws into her flesh, the fake smiles would turn into sneers, and her parents would become more far away than they already were. Pyrrha had wanted to weep right then and there but even in the privacy of her own room she couldn't even shed a tear. She was so far gone that she couldn't even stay true to the girl staring back at her through the mirror smiling that same mask of happiness.

Every human being had a limit and as years went by Pyrrha slowly began to lose her sanity, she needed an out, she needed to get away from this else she might explode. But what? What could possibly get her out of this constant whirlpool? What can end the torment that Pyrrha's name brought upon her?

"You must be the famed Pyrrha Nikos that everyone here has been talking about, a pleasure to be sure, I am Ozpin, Headmaster of Beacon Academy."

When a man whose name carried more weight behind then hers approached Pyrrha she felt fear (which of course was hidden behind her mask as every other negative emotion was). But then the man made her an offer, an offer that may be the solution the problem that she had been craving for a very long time.

"How would you like to become a huntress in training at Beacon?"

And so Pyrrha stood before the ship that would take her towards a new beginning. Her parents were adverse to the idea at first, but after a bit of convincing by the headmaster himself, they soon warmed up to the idea and for the first time in a long time they actually seemed happy for her and not her fame. Pyrrha took this as a good omen, which perhaps there was some hope of her meeting actual life-long companions. It was disheartening at first when some of the students seemed to recognize her either due to the fact that they were from the same kingdom as her or they heard rumors of her feats. But as she walked along she had come to the delightful discovery that most of Beacon's student body was more focused on their future lives as huntsmen rather than fawn over a celebrity. Some even held jealousy for the Spartan and oddly enough Pyrrha accepted this whole-heartedly for it at least felt real.

Beacon was Pyrrha's chance to be free from the shackles that her name had so mercilessly tried to lock onto her to keep her down.

Spartam libertatum consequi potest.

They were four lonely souls so different in their pasts and yet so closely intertwined. They are all looking for something and fate had brought them all to Beacon to give them a new future. It is here where these four individuals will carve their own destinies. It is here where they will face many trials that will test them both physically and mentally. It is here in this prestigious academy where Jaune Arc, Blake Belladonna, Weiss Schnee, and Pyrrha Nikos will take the first step to reaching what the really want. Until then their souls will remain completely and utterly:

ABSeNt

ABSN

Ut eorum animae liber ab absente.

Ut sit in sempiternum, et fata illorum inter se implicata.