The sudden arrival of Robert in Ozpin's office was an unexpected surprise, but from the boy's tone, exhaustion, and troubling words, the headmaster got the distinct impression that something was very wrong.  Moving with a surprising haste given his age, Ozpin marched from his office with Robert in disorderly pursuit, and behind him the two new students.  Quickly and efficiently he descended the flight of stairs, mulling over the things that the teamless leader had told him.  Embodiment, did he say? Where had he heard that before...?  On the way, the headmaster told the three boys to leave him and return to their business.  “This is school business, no concern of yours.  Return to class.”  His tone made it clear that he would be brooking no nonsense.

[center]-=-=-[/center]

With a loud squeal, the infirmary door was thrown open, and in marched Beacon's principle.  Though normally a man to wear a look of casual curiosity, as if some great knowledge lay behind his eyes for students to discover, Ozpin now bore a visage of utter seriousness.  He approached the bedside, saying in a quiet but clear manner, “Students, please leave now.  Algernon, go with them and continue your class as usual; there's still at least twenty minutes before the bell.  Make sure to properly penalize any absentees.  Seniors, you have duties to attend to as well.”

After the math instructor had left with Cobalt, Oswald, and Sapphire, Ozpin stood by the unconscious boy's shoulder.  He bent to examine the stitching around the mouth and turned up a surprising conclusion.  Judging by appearance alone, it was somewhat elastic, and would stretch to permit the boy to drink and make some facial expressions.  As Ozpin watched, the kid turned his odd eyes to look at him.  When the air around the headmaster began to move, vibrating at complex frequencies to produce sounds, he listened intently.  [i]”Thank...you.  Be...ready.  The Painter...follows.”[/i]  Through narrowed eyes, Ozpin could see that the air within the boy's mouth vibrated too.  Perhaps, he reasoned coolly, whoever did this to him was trying to keep whatever singularity of sound that lay within him from bursting out when his semblance was active.  This semblance, in fact, was like nothing Ozpin had ever seen.  It seemed to be constantly on, and totally untied to the boy's obviously depleted aura.  It was more like...hmm.  Semblances derived their name from old folk tales about beings with incredible power over forces in nature, practically akin to magic.  Human characters in those stories, seeing these grand magics, labored to emulate them, so producing for each a 'semblance' of the power of the gods.  This ability, however, combined with the distinctive tattoo, seemed to lend itself to the idea that it was an 'embodiment' of such power—a projection far beyond that of an ordinary person.  To Ozpin's immediate knowledge, this was the first time he'd ever seen such a thing.  It was a matter of no small concern, especially if this hyper-powerful kid seemed to be afraid of someone -or something- called 'The Painter'.  Now was not, however, a good time to delve into the hardships inflicted upon him.

“What is your name?”

The air contorted itself to sound out a melodic reply.  [i]”Jay...”[/i]

Ozpin spoke up before the boy could continue.  “Don't worry any more, Jay.  We will take care of you.”

[b][center][color=007FFF]Abel Fulgurate[/color][/center][/b]

“Someone call my name?”

Without proper warning, Abel was there.  He looked at Shiro, then Gren, then back again, and held up his phone needlessly  “Got your message.  I followed the people with the kid for a way, but I didn't want to just hang around bein' useless so I came back.  I don't know what's up with him.  I heard someone saying that class isn't canceled though, so we oughta head back.”  Shrugging, Abel waiting for one of his comrades to reply, not aware that he'd stepped into a potentially important conversation.