[center][h1][color=ed1c24]Coch Talesin[/color][/h1][/center]
[center][b]Location: Cliff --> Group[/b][/center]
[hr]

This wasn’t a good start to his day. His alarm had failed to go off and now he was running to hopefully make up for lost time. Who was he kidding? Ozpin seemed like too strict of a guy to allow for such an excuse to fly, and then he would have to try again next year. Closing his eyes, Coch forced the negative thoughts from his mind. No; he had to believe that he could still make it. With one hand gripping the neck of his Stratocaster, and the other balled into a fist and swinging to power his stride, Coch saw the cliff opening just ahead and halted in his sprint when he saw a student levitate into the air. Grass ground and rolled beneath the soles of his boots until he stopped, his golden eyes gazing wide-eyed at the robed stranger. The man’s hand was outstretched to the student and he saw that not too far from him was the body of Glynda Goodwitch.

Coch’s eyes were wide in fear and confusion. What was going on? The student began bending backwards in a manner that the human body wasn’t meant to go. He saw that the robed man’s hand seemed to be controlling her. The guitarist’s hand went to his mouth in horror as he muted the sound around him. He started back-stepping, tripping over a root in his anxiety. He was able to recover his footing without falling or losing concentration. The screams…the girl was screaming in her suffering. Oh god; why was this happening?

The guitarist looked away and ran before the girl snapped in half. He knew it was coming and he couldn’t bear to watch it happen. He slapped tree branches out of his face and tore through bushes in his fright until a log tripped him up, sending him flying a few feet to land face-down in the dirt. Panting, the guitarist coughed as dust rose into his face. He needed that trip. It had been the only thing to snap him out of his panic.

[color=ed1c24][i]Whot kinda’ test iz this? They killin’ us fo’ runnin’?[/i][/color] he mused. Who had that robed teacher been? If it had been a teacher…He was still shaking from what he had seen when a devilish scream and human-like wail of a frightening beast tore through the sky above. Coch rolled onto his back with his guitar across his body protectively as he gazed through the boughs at the blue sky.

[color=ed1c24][i]Whot iz goin’ on ‘ere![/i][/color] he mentally screamed. First murder and now monsters. It hadn’t sounded like any Grim he had ever heard before. The whole test was a slaughter-fest!

Coch sat up, his legs crossing before him. He rested his head against the neck of his guitar and closed his eyes as he descended into battle with his conscience. He could run away. He didn’t have to put up with this. He still had a life and a musical career to live out. But there were still students out there weren’t there? What if they were being slaughtered by the nightmares in that exam? They were probably feeling the same terror he was feeling at that moment, and they probably didn’t even know about the fate that awaited them if they were to return to the cliffs.

[color=ed1c24][i]Ah gotta go to’em. They don’ even know. Ah kin’t jus’ leave’em to die,[/i][/color] Coch decided as he rose to his feet. Swinging his guitar onto his shoulder, his brows crashed together in a frown as he mentally beat himself for changing his mind. Shaking off the last of his regret, he raced back toward the cliffs, but he took a detour that would allow him to safely take a slope down the mountainside.

As he ran to the aid of who knows what—they could have all been dead already!—he noticed that there weren’t many Grim in the area. Could they have fled when they felt the presence of the unknown grim?
[hr]

[center][color=ed1c24][h3]Falthon Battle Theme[/h3][/color][/center]
[center][i][url=https://youtu.be/P2mQaAT51Kw]Operation Ground and Pound – Dragonforce[/url][/i][/center]
[center][b]Mentioned:[/b] [@ReaptheMusic][@Chickn][@BCTheEntity][@Turboshitter][/center]


A guitar vibrated from the forest, filling the air with a stimulating power. The instrument howled, hovering over the heads and surrounding those students who stood about the grotesque enemy. It destroyed their weakness, invigorating them with an energy that they just wanted to unleash. The tune then became more vigorous with an energetic shred. Stepping out of the treeline was a red-haired guitarist. He stopped right on the edge of the clearing, bent slightly over and banging his head to his jam. He didn’t explain why he was there. He didn’t introduce himself for there was no time. All he did was sing and imbue the team with his rock presence:

[center][color=ed1c24][i]Smashing through the boundaries,
Storming through the burning fields,
Stand before the evil one, on toward the molten sun,
Falling under skies of pai~n![/i][/color][/center]