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#Headcanon for Team GAAC
charmedglass · 3 years
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Drabble! - Warning, Character Death, mild gore  
 ( Aka, the loss of team glacier’s leader. )
                                There was a saying, of having steel and fire in one’s blood, how heros, how they were made in the hour of defeat. Avros knew this, he knew of the stories of the underdogs that clawed their way to victory, baring their teeth in the face of death. These stories, they seemed most fitting for Glacia, her violet eyes sparkling under the sun as she tore through grimm in time of one’s own heartbeat.
                                                   But they also were for Aycan, whose temper may very well cost them one day, yet was loyal without doubts. For Cymbeline, who always found a way to smile, and inspire others even when things looked bleak. Not him. It was never meant to be him.
                                 But, fate it seemed, had deemed him a warrior, long ago.
                    Avros is quick to draw, pulling his left hand back and drawing the bladed shards of Showstopper through the beowulves, they had been coming at Glacia from the rear, and she flashes a cheeky smile his way. Not that she could see him, yet, somehow, she always seemed to know. She flips back behind the twins, bellowing out the next command.
                                     “Sunshine, you’re up! Followed by the reaper!” 
                      It nearly makes him want to roll his eyes, ever since she had decided to make combo names, inspired by video games no less, Glacia hadn’t let up a bit in training. Granted, even he could see the effectiveness, as Cymbeline chucked the orb from her staff into the midst of the swam, effectively blinding a majority of the Grimm that had clustered there.
                                 If he really squinted, he could even make out the shadows that Aycan was travelling along, only to emerge from the shadows moments later, with Night’s End switched into it’s scythe form. He whirled in a perfect one eighty, dragging the blade effortlessly in blurred waves, the grimm being cut down in a matter of moments.
                      Avros took this moment to step back besides Glacia, back into visibility and sensory range. Only moments later, she tilted her head back, a chuckle escaping her, eyes batting in a ridiculous overdramatic flutter.
                                  “You have to admit, it works.” 
                            This effectively earns a snort, as Avros waves his left hand, recalling the shards to Showstopper, making the weapon whole once more. “I, will never admit anything, lastly to you.” 
                    Only to receive more laughter, the twins approaching the two of them, Cymbeline sulking slightly. “I didn’t even get to do anything-”
                            “Nope. You flash bombed them. I won’t hear that mopey pouting Cym, it helped get Aycan in for the kill.” Glacia swiftly interrupts, only to raise a finger to her lips. All bouts of stern, playful ribbing melts away from her features, and, by default, Avros finds himself gripping Showstopper tightly, looking across the desert sands. 
                        While things had been easy thus far, they still hadn’t managed to find the missing crew. The deserts of Vacuo had some rock and clifflike structures scattered throughout, and a group of dust miners had disappeared. Given it was their second year in Shade, it had been high time to take on a higher staked mission.
                                        “Look out-!” 
                          There’s a man, half his face drenched with blood, peeking out from the open mouthed entry wave of the cave, half swallowed by sand. It’s too late to react, as a large, black mass is suddenly on top of him. Teeth have sunken into his shoulder, and the air is knocked violently from his lungs, hips burning as claws tore through the mesh under his clothing.
                          His vision is a blur of movement, and Avros can’t tell up from down, though it seems like another pack of Beowulves? Suddenly, the Grimm is ripped off his body, as Aycan yanks him back up. Blood paints in a spray across his nose, and he huffs out.
                                              “Fade out, your injured.” Avros wants to argue, and even moves to spread his wings, get a birdseye view of the situation. But fire burns through his back, and it’s a sinking realization of dread, that the Grimm had targeted him, because he was that much larger a target. ( possibly even for his mobility? Older Grimm could think but... )
                       A wyrm like serpent lunges out from under the sands, as long as an airship, and covered with a thick, bone plating all along it’s back, swooping up into twin great horns at it’s skull. It rears back, as Glacia and Cymbeline go head to head with keeping it at bay. Only for it to throw back it’s head, it’s maw gaping as an earth shaking roar escapes the confines of it’s throat. 
                            The wind begins to gust harder, and Avros reluctantly fades back out of sight, twisting his gloved left hand, shattering Showstopper’s blades yet again to control. This must’ve been the Grimm that caused the collapse- the miner- a glance back only served to make his stomach lurch, the warning having cost, likely the only survivor, his life.
                   He quickly steps back, making distance between himself and the giant Grimm. With his wing effectively broken, his mobility had been halved by more than a decent amount. Avros was almost useless, and would’ve been had Aycan not got whatever it was off of him.
                               Yet, as he manages to embed shards along the beasts bone armor, cracking it in places, the sands begin to shift. Dozens of smaller wyrms began to attack from the sands, weaving and dancing amongst his panicking team. Even Glacia’s eyes were wild, pupils shrunk small as she called out another command.
                                   “Spearfishing!” Showstopper’s remaining pieces are drawn closely together, resembling a spear as it is thrusted towards the main Wyrm’s skull, sinking deeply into it with the aid of the Gravity dust. 
                        “Guillotine Hour at Dawn!” The twins are a blur of motion, and Avros has to focus over the ringing in his ears, the throbbing that echoes loudly in his blood.  The shards of Showstopper are zipping through the air, and Avros had to twist and dip his own body, despite the pain, the blood painting his clothing, he has to dance to keep the smaller wyrms away from Glacia, off the twins. 
                Yet some get through, sinking their tiny teeth into Cymbeline’s shoulders, as larger ones begin to crawl out of the dunes like nightmares given form. She shrieks, and falters at the underjaw of the main Wyrm, and Aycan roars, the Axe function of Night’s End thunking heavily into the back of the neck.
                     But it doesn’t go through, without Cymbeline to steady the head’s attention-
                    The mother wyrm presses down, snapping it’s clawed talons around Cymbeline, as her Aura shatters from the pressure alone, it’s head snapping back, fangs sinking down into Aycan’s middle and throwing him away. Panic begins rising, and just when it seems like it won’t get worse-
                               It does. The Mother Wyrm shrieks, and suddenly, all of the smaller Wyrms converge on Glacia, whose voice dies in the screaming winds that rose like a choir to herald their end. 
                         Avros fails. He fails to keep them off of Glacia, and his semblance drops just as he is barreled through from behind, pressed face first into the sand, breath coming out in ragged pants. They were going to die-
                      Cymbeline whirls Dying Star into the talons of the Mother Wyrm, shattering them as she runs back towards a screaming Glacia, her weapons lost amongst the dunes, unable to defend herself as Aycan throws himself from the ground.
                   Avros can’t see what’s happening, can only here Glacia screaming, to run- Go. Until her voice, so loud, so piercing- was cut to silence. Even the wind seemed to die, as the Mother Wyrm walked closer, her footsteps silent, save for a steady whooshing of sand. 
             Success is therefore, well described, as a series of Glorious defeats. 
                      Shards tear through the smaller wyrms, as the Black Swan rises from the ground, his breathing loud, harsh as broken wings spread out wide. There’s no words to describe the gore that met him, the torn apart body of Glacia, bright, heroic Glacia. Glacia, who would no long offer her voice to the world, claimed by Vacuo’s monsters.
                         The twins fall back to him, and Avros can see the fear that almost pulses off of them, tears staining all of their faces as they shiver, their hair, fur, bristled and bodies shaking. Mass of nightmares, weaving closer through the sands, as Mother Wyrm rears back, for the final time to lunge, kill the remaining three.  
                                           “Never.” 
                    Light blinds them, bathing the battlefield in life saving silver, and the screams of Grimm are given out in chorus- and vaporized before they even had the chance to finish.
                                 Heros were made in the Hour of defeat. 
                                    And Avros, he learned this too late.  
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charmedglass · 4 years
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Headcanon!
                           This is a multi muse headcanon, featuring Avros, Aycan and Cymbeline! Before their team leader passed, they were called Team GAAC - ( Glacier ), lead by Glacia Nevicata.  
                                             More information to come on Glacia later!
                             However, with the loss of Glacia, they are now just AAC ( Ace ) normally lead by Aycan if they’re all together, but it can bounce between all three of them if need be.
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