@Silvan Haven@Write@HereComesTheSnow@Plank Sinatra



"You chose the correct career then, Schwarz," said Gratia, her eyes fixing themselves upon Luke once more. Her voice was unchangingly impassive as usual, but there was a certain ... honesty to her words. Becoming a huntress would open up many opportunities to obtain immense wealth and influence, to show the world her brilliance. It was a dangerous occupation, but that was no issue for her. She wasn't going to die like one of those squirming little worms in her garden, cast adrift like a corpse in the dirt.

She would climb to the top and take all that power for herself.

In the end, that was what all huntsmen and huntresses strove for. Power to fulfil their goals, no matter what said goals were. If Luke wanted power for such a pathetic reason like being able to watch cartoons without people judging him, she simply could not care less. Her eyes were on a greater prize.

Wealth and influence.

One day, she would make them hers.

Hold on a second, it's not like that's why I became a Hunter, you know!

"If I was just doing it for the money, I wouldn't have gotten this far in the first place." I countered, meeting her eyes sidelong. "I mean, I may not be good for much, but if nothing else I wouldn't have been able to gut it out through the training when I could just get a job and start building a resume, like any other guy."

That was conjecture, of course, but greed has never been a primary motivator for me. I'm no plutocrat like Bianca by any means, but between Mom and Dad's respective lines of work, our family was well within the confines of the status of "doing just fine, thanks". I am not a particularly greedy man, even if I'm frugal with my spending.

That's more just me having common sense, anyway. Even an idiot knows something as simple as waiting for sales and buying things in bulk, and I was no exception.

It was not monetary greed that drove me beyond my limits.

It was a fire that burned much deeper and hotter than that. Something that came from the very core of who I was all the way from boyhood 'till now. The kind of motivation that will make a guy do something he absolutely hates with nothing more than a grunt and a passing, displeased thought.

One that kept me going every day. One that gave my legs the will to tread water, even when I was out of my depth.

"Are you saying that's why you're here, though?" I asked, my voice carefully neutral. Be all of that as it may, that was just my personal state. If money was a good enough motivator for Gratia Mindaro, then all power to Gratia Mindaro to keep doing what Gratia Mindaro did.

"Or is it something else, too?"

It wasn't like I had a chance in hell of stopping her, anyway.

@Silvan Haven@Write@HereComesTheSnow@Plank Sinatra



So he had chosen to question her motivations. Luke Schwarz would not be the first to do so, nor was he likely to be the last. Another seeking insight into what drove her every action, what controlled the inner workings of her mind. If he was so eager to know, then she would allow him the privilege of being illuminated. The question was not particularly a difficult one to answer, after all, nor was the subject matter of great enough import that she needed to keep her answer guarded. It was logical as well that one would pursue an inquiry into the meaning behind another hunter's decisions; it could influence how one chose to interact with the other.

Luke Schwarz was a person of decent interest and a reasonably inoffensive conversation partner.

There was no difficulty in sparing him such insignificant information.

"Power."

That was what she wanted, no, needed. She relished in the satisfaction of having power, of being able to triumph over those who were insolent enough to dare impede her way. Power to stand at the summit of the world, to show the unwashed masses how inferior they truly were to she who was Gratia Mindaro. Power was to have control, to be subject to nobody's will but God and God's alone.

Wealth was but one aspect of that power she so desired. It was a means to apply it amongst society, a currency to ensure the cooperation of other humans. It brought both respect and admiration, but also fear and envy. Yet what it truly represented was security. To have money was to be free of irksome creditors constantly knocking on one's door. It was to wake up every day in the understanding that all of one's possessions could be maintained in perfect condition. It was to have the freedom of choice, to live in a world where there were an infinite number of doors that could be opened.

She would have stability. Certainty. To have the power to rid the bullshit that plagued her family.

To be powerful was to be rich, to be knowledgeable, to be strong.

And to be so was to break free of the shackles that had been unjustly placed upon her. To impart her superiority onto the world and her lessers. That was the path she had chosen for herself, and there was no fucking way that anybody or anything was going to stop her before she achieved her victory. This was a fact that she would ordain in the stars with her own bare hands.

Her onyx eyes stared intensely into Luke's, penetrating into him with imperceptibly cold vigour.

A lopsided smile slowly appeared across her face. It was eerie, almost animalistic in the purity of the emotions it seemed to convey. Amusement? Satisfaction? A declaration of fact. A declaration of the motivation that Luke sought from her.

"tHAt'S why I'm here."

In the tempest of wills that suffocated this tragic, broken world, Gratia Mindaro's would be supreme.

I might have been attempting to befriend a supervillain.

"A-Ah."

I kept my intimidation mostly under lock and key, as was my growing custom when breeching topics like this, but seriously! I could honestly feel the intensity suddenly spike in the air around us! It's that semblance of hers, right? Her voice did the same thing it did back when I first reported in for examination at her dorm! Wait, no, that sentence sounded wrong. When I was there to provide my hair for scientific analysis?

Her voice broke, that's what I'm saying. It broke from her usual stoic demeanor again, and showed me a hint of the berserker underneath that poor Cian had to deal with in sparring.

Her voice changed, and her eyes stared straight through me like I was fighting the manticore all over again.

Well, no, that was wrong, actually.

The manticore wanted to kill me, plainly, simply, and openly.

Gratia...

Tundra.

Tundra, tundra, tundra, and I'm not making a gag of it this time like I usually do. It was cold, piercing, and harshly unrelenting, just like a gust of wind in the tundra.

And I wasn't even sure I could call that lopsided, beastial thing a smile. She looked like a shark. I didn't want a shark when Gratia first smiled at me, you know? No guy ever wants a shark in that context! Shark week should not extend to your classmates!

"I see."

I wasn't sure what else to come back at her with.

@Silvan Haven@Write@HereComesTheSnow@Plank Sinatra



"What is yours, Schwarz?"

The air was returning to normal, the sudden rise in pressure fading to a state where people could breathe once more. Her crude mockery of a smile readjusted itself, smoothing out into the impassive expression that others had come to expect of her. It was as if nothing bizarre had even taken place at all. Only the existence of her own question, the words hanging in the air between them, proved the existence of the path their conversation had taken to reach this point.

It was a question she usually would not have asked. Small talk was a foolish banality, a useless waste of breath, and from certain points of view, her inquiry was no more than more small talk. However, there was a purpose to this question of hers. The Mistralese teenager wanted to know. It would further define the variables she needed to consider if she were to successfully research the wild strands of hair on Luke Schwarz's head.

What drove him?

And thus, what drove the hair to react?

What was my motivation?

"Well..." I looked upwards, as if I thought the sky could just use the stars to paint a clear picture for me. I wasn't so lucky as to have the heavens align themselves in any manner for my sake, so I could just stare and think.

And think I did.

My motivation. My endgame. What I wanted out of my training here, what I wanted out of this career, what I wanted out of putting my life on the line against nightmarish monsters for my life's path.

It wasn't money, I'd declared that much already. And the sentiment attached was absolutely true. I only cared enough about money to make sure I could live off of it. Extreme wealth was more a bonus than anything else, and not something I couldn't live without.

Heck, I knew a scruffy man with an Aloha shirt that seemed to abhor living a life of luxury by principle. He was one of my guiding figures and first friends.

No, it wasn't money.

Was it power? Did I want influence, like Gratia, to force the world to bend it's knee to my will?

...

Well, I might have just been projecting that part onto her because she still scared me a little. The answer, however, was still no.

Or at least, not exactly. I did want to gain power, yeah. I wanted to become a powerful individual. A capable individual. Someone who could keep themselves and everyone around them safe in times of need.

Everyone around me was already powerful, though.

Yeah, in fact, they were so powerful that they probably needed to keep me safe instead of vice versa. It was the same way at home, too. Mom, April, Dawn... they were all much more powerful than me. Heck, even my father, despite lacking the physical capabilities I had, seemed so much more cool-headed and in control than I had ever been.

Was it prestige, then? Maybe. Granted, I wasn't too keen on the idea of having my name in the spotlight, either...

Well, did prestige have to equate to fame? Maybe it didn't. Maybe I could call it that without looking to end up in tabloids, instead of just... being acknowledged alongside my peers? I would have liked that.

If everyone around me was so accomplished in comparison, I obviously should want to stand amongst them, then, right?

Well, yeah. That was all correct. I wanted to be able to pull my weight, right? To not be a liability. To not be holding everyone back. To not be just an afterthought.

Was I an afterthought?

...I didn't want to be.

I was right here too. I didn't just want to be a face in the background. I didn't want to be a footnote in my achievements. I didn't want to be the unsung bottom of the class, and I didn't want to just be another also-ran.

I've spent my whole life outshone, you know?

I'm not smart.

I'm not strong.

I'm not even overly nice.

I'm just a guy.

But I don't want to just be "that guy". I don't want to be in the background. I don't want to go my whole life in anyone else's shadow anymore.

Not my mother's.

Not my sisters'.

Not my classmates'.

Not even my teammates'.

I want to be able to stand tall in this school upon my own two feet. I want to become somebody I can be proud of being. I want to show what I can do, even if it may not be much. I want people to see me as worthy. No, I want to see myself as worthy. I want my revenge to be by living well, and living well is ultimately self-actualization, isn't it? I want to push my average, unassuming self as far as he can possibly go, and then a little further, just out of spite. I want to tell everyone talented or gifted or skilled in the world to make some damn room.

I felt something tighten. I released a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"I want to prove I'm good enough."

To lead the charge of a new generation of Schwarzes into the Hunting World. To be reliable as a mentor and as a brother. To stare down any threat in the face without fear of the reprisal. To protect anyone I hold dear, and to save everyone I can. To right every wrong I had committed and seen, and to always be able to do the right thing.

I wanted to genuinely, with nothing less than all of myself, prove I had what it takes to become what I wanted to be.

Strong.

Smart.

Dependable.

Brave.

Worthy.

A Hunter.

A Hero.

@Silvan Haven@Write@HereComesTheSnow@Plank Sinatra



Gratia Mindaro stared quietly at the other student, gaze trained entirely upon the sincere expression upon his face. Her cold onyx eyes, unblinkingly impassive, were almost analytical in the way they bored holes through him, as if seeking to dig through every secret that he could be hiding. What was the driving force behind Luke Schwarz's actions? What type of person was her subject seeking to become?



"Then try not to fuck up," she replied.

A desire to become somebody greater. A sense of self predicated upon being able to truly standle shoulder-to-shoulder with those society deemed his equals. This was Luke Schwarz, a boy so doubtful of his own worth that he sought so strongly to garner the power necessary to rectify whatever flaws he saw within himself. It was a dream no different to so many others wishing for self-improvement, but she wondered ... how would he achieve that ambition?

How strong was his resolve to improve?

She would acknowledge his quest for power.

Now it was his duty to show her that her attentions were not wasted.

"That's the idea, isn't it?" came my rhetorical response.

It'd have been pretty foolish to expect her to open up much more than that, anyway. She simply wasn't the type. Dropping the stoicism wasn't happening with that sort of declaration.

I mean, it wasn't like I'd even explained the how or the why, either, you know? Just saying I wanted to get better's honestly pretty run-of-the-mill on it's own. Without the context behind it, it didn't mean half as much. Everybody here wanted to prove themselves, didn't they? Of course they did.

What really gave that wish the weight it had for me were the circumstances surrounding it, those that bred it, and those I would need to create to make it happen. I could expect her to suddenly have a grand epiphany only if she learned about all of those that were behind it.

But, then we would be here all night, wouldn't we? She seemed satisfied enough with the answer anyway...

Wait.

I glanced back over to her.

She just asked that question in the first place.

Could it be that Gratia Mindaro actually had a modicum of interest in what kind of person I was? It wasn't like she was one for small talk, so "just keeping the conversation going" wasn't a valid answer...

As far as I could tell, there was always a purpose behind what she did.

So what was the reason for asking me that, then?

...You know, I feel like I should feel ashamed for my line of thought skewing itself in this direction, rather than just accepting that she could be social every once in a while.

S-Sorry, Gratia!

Abel Fulgurate – Cafeteria

By the time his teammate discovered and made her way to his side, half of Abel's handcrafted bacon, egg, and biscuit sandwich was gone, and only the core remained of one of his two pieces of fruit. A cup of coffee, mixed with some milk and sugar, sat beside a cup of juice on his tray. Having spotted her approaching, he made no motion but to put down his food so as to not let it get in the way of conversation. He brought a napkin to his mouth, just in case, while Sapphire got herself situated. “Good morning,” he replied to her greeting. She didn't seem too pleased to be her, but her presence was pleasant enough. Hanging around SASG's team leader never bothered Abel—in fact, he felt it appropriate that two of the less talkative hunters-in-training at Beacon should be together. With that out of the way, he gingerly picked up his remaining pear to bite in. Before he could do so, his partner's voice came again, for which he paused in his tracks. Immediately his mind shot to his proposed nature excursion with Krysanthe, but blabbing about it up front struck the guardian as the wrong thing to do. He couldn't quite place why he felt that way -he wasn't doing anything wrong, after all- but all the same he thought it better to be vague with his reply.

Thinking to himself that he could easily blame early-morning grogginess for his lackluster response time, Abel told Sapphire, “I was thinking of heading out into the Emerald Forest. You know, for some fresh air. Explore the woods and all. Um, after that...” He groaned inwardly as he recalled a stroke of misfortune that had been hanging sneakily over his head like a little stormcloud waiting to burst. “I gotta study for the English quiz on Monday. It's all rhetoric, but I'm just awful at all that wordplay stuff.” At this point, Abel felt on a roll. Several sentences had been completed without a major flub. Feeling brave, he performed a stiff give me a break gesture and continued, “I mean, why do we even have English and Math and stuff at Beacon? Won't help us kill anything or keep ourselves from gettin' killed. You...uh, you get what I'm saying?” Abel went ahead and took a large bite out of his pear in order to both provide valuable nourishment and to signal the end of his part of the conversation. Basically, he was home free at this point. Sapphire could drum up a response, or shrug her shoulders and say nothing, but the weight of the interaction lay on her now. Any awkwardness would be totally her fault; to be frank, though, Abel was torn between feeling bad about putting his partner into the spotlight and feeling pleased with how well he'd articulated himself prior to coffee. Speaking of which. Following his nugget of fruit, the guardian busied himself with his coffee cup.

~Cafeteria~

Another weekend meant another odd day for Sangue Naga.

Her days could be odd in any sense- whether they be unusually uneventful or intensely active, Sangue always tried to take things into face value. Never did she find herself predicting what would happen in her weekends correctly.

Slipping in a hundred lien under the pillows of her friends in the BASL dorm room, Sangue had managed to wake up the earliest despite being one of the last to sleep. She had meditated at dawn outside of the academy building, her drowsiness not getting in the way of her reflection.

She thought over what her team went through on a certain flashy day. She thought over the children she wrote letters to. She thought about her value to her team, and how she could improve upon herself to be a more valuable asset. And she tried to think things that could make her resemble a generic woman- something she hoped she could become if her days as a Huntress ended one day. In truth, Sangue had a lot of thoughts floating above her train of thoughts. Most of her scrambled thoughts just happened to never surface unless certain circumstances were met.

To put it simply... it was frustrating to properly understand her.

Sangue did not want to be a thorn to her team, so she meditated. She cleared her mind for the sake of wishing good well-being for her friends.

After she finished her meditation later that day, the woman observed her weapons before heading to the cafeteria. Her stomach grumbled quietly. As soft-spoken as her appetite was, it did certainly exist! She needed to fulfill it just as much as others. The sight of other students, and the thoughts of being a better teammate for her friends, however, made her begin to wonder new thoughts.

Some of such thoughts revolved around improving her weapons.

Leaving the lone sandwich she had decided to leave on a table, the redhead gently lifted her claw as she set it on the table she sat at alone. A good amount of its edges had smoothed and worn off, which would make it inevitably less effective while tearing apart Grimm and the likes.

...I... should... have someone... take a... look... at it... Sangue thought as she touched the claw softly, as if to remember which parts of the claw had been worn down. She had gotten it maintained by a few people outside of Beacon before she became a student, and even then, such services had quite a bit of a price to maintain.

Even an upgrade for the Apophis Claw did not sound like a bad idea. She did not know what kind of upgrade would be suitable for the claw, however, as she wasn't too creative when it came to tech-savvy things.

"Much better, thank you. Oh, and don't worry about it, the Beacon Nurses were giving me the impression that I was the dead walking when I came back last night." Sepia responded to Yue's query. As she spied Skyra returning from the bathroom with blood running down her face, she added, "We keep getting busted up around here, don't we?" Speaking of girls being unsightly..."Where did my leggings go? I could have sworn I left them folded on the end of my bed." Deciding to prioritize food over getting dressed, she didn't look long, instead pulling on a bathrobe for the time being. With a small yawn, she sat down in her usual habit of tucking her left ankle under rear on one of the stools Yue had brought with her. Now that she was settled in, she could think about what to do over the weekend (aside from homework, yuck). There was parents' day, too. "I wonder if -no, when- Mom and Dad come, if they'll choose to come as themselves. I guess I can only wait and see. Whatever they have in mind, I'm sure it'll work out."

"So, friends, have any fun plans?" She glanced around at the other three girls, an energetic tone in her voice.

Krysanthe couldn't help tuting at Skyra, though it seemed Yue was once again ready with first aid equipment for some reason and she quickly fixed Skyra up and Krysanthe decided not to comment on it. Well since that was taken care of Krysanthe reached for her scroll just as it vibrated and checked it: Abel had responded, seemed his teammates probably didn't want to go. Well Krysanthe's team probably were about the same. Seemed they could both grab a meal before heading out.

---

To: Able
From: Krysanthe
Subject: Hang Out
Sounds good, I'm getting food too, see ya there!

---

Krysanthe proceeded to then grab some yogurt, bacon, toast, OJ, hash browns, pretty much everything actually, and took a seat at the impressively cart-into-table-plus-chairs magic that had happened. "Thank you for the food Yue!" Krysanthe thanked her before starting to dig in. After a sizeable portion of it vanished in a remarkably short period of time Krysanthe answered Sepia's question, "I plan on going for a hike through the Emerald Forest with Able. Oh by the way Yue, not to sound ungrateful or rude or anything, but why are you here?" Krysanthe didn't mind a full breakfast and Yue helping out Sepia and Skyra but she was curious as to why she'd shown up. She had a half-formed theory in the back of her mind somewhere but figured she'd just ask.

Skyra had to stifle a laugh. "Pretty girl." She broke out into laughter. "You're calling me a pretty girl? Unsightly? I'm always like that!"
With her left hand she pulled the PJ shirt over her head revealing her chest, covered from top to bottom with scars, burn marks and other third party blemishes.
"And that's just my chest."

In wake of the slight awkwardness of having her, honestly almost teen-sized, chest out in the open, Skyra made her way to her wardrobe and simply put on a sports bra, or it looked like that, since it didn't have that much to support anyway.
"Now, food!"
Her mood had significantly improved now and she simply sat down and nommed on things at random.
"No plans whatsoever here. Gonna be bored around the room, I think. Sounds like a plan, no?"
While chewing on a toast bread, she looked at Yue and mumbled a "Shanksh for sha foodsh!"

"Oh, shush, you." Diamond waved her arm to Cobalt. She set the bag on one of the tables and started unpacking. The smell only intensified, filling the room. It made her hungry for it herself. Wheeling the table over to Cobalt she set one of the paper boxes on a tray in front of him. "I've got a thickburger - double ground beef, egg, couple slices of cheese, roasted bacon and vegies with half a pound of fries." she said, leaving him to open the box and bask in the glory of her culinary arts.

Continuing on to Oswald she fished out a sealed bowl and gave it to him: "And some seafood stew, along with some garlic bread to bite. To expand an inlander's horizons despite his stubborn insisting on one kind of meal, so to speak." she said with a wink, dropping some utensils on the tray.

Finally she moved to Emerald, the displeasure at her leaving the bad apparent on her face, along with worry. "I have extra order of both of those to pick form and cookies and chocolate milk for everyone, but only after they eat their fill of actual food... And let the docs do their job without adding more work for them." the redhead said with a smirk.

Diamond was about to say something, but a knock on the doorframe interrupted her. "Miss Frost, how convenient. I was just about to call you down here to check you arm, meet me in the room opposite." he pointed over his shoulder.

Sapphire seemed to share his misgivings about the current state of affairs. That was something, at least. Either he had a point, or they were both just paranoid. Either scenario was alright with him, frankly: misery loved company, and he was in no shape to lead an investigation into this if they were right.

Her departure was...depressing, to say the least. He was thrown back into the world of cold, clinical medicine. He'd been lucky enough to survive their last mission physically intact, but this time, not even his body was spared the stresses of war. He couldn't fault the nurses for forcing him to rest, though: trying to move and talk hurt like a fresh Beowulf bite. After a dose of painkillers and a few minutes, he was out like a light.

---

Groaning as he forced himself to wake up, Oswald winced in pain as his rib cage expanded, taking in the first long breath of the day. He wouldn't be getting used to that any time soon, that was for sure. If I ever see another one of those...things...again, I'll tear their lungs out and force-feed them to the fuckers before I deal with this shit again.

For now, it was another day of bedrest. His ribs and lung were healing a bit ahead of schedule, but there was nothing that could be done save for waiting. Nature took its time, even with the wonderful healing properties of Aura.

Diamond brought a nice break from the routine later on, however. Seafood wasn't exactly what he was looking for, but he wasn't going to complain, either. "Looks awesome. Thanks, Diamond." He wanted to crack a joke, but expected that it would end rather poorly for him, especially in his current condition.

It was indeed awesome stew. Thank goodness.

Cobalt grinned as he was presented with the home made burger and he immediately dug in with glee. His injuries were much less serious than Oswald's and Emerald's were, meaning he was probably going to get out today. He would probably have to deal headaches for the next week, but he was definitely good to be out of bed by the end of the day.

Unfortunately the same couldn't be said about Emerald who had gotten out of bed and latched onto Rowan. While he didn't approve of her getting out of bed against doctor's orders, she obviously needed someone to comfort her right now. And Cobalt was not that person.

Diamond mentioned everyone would get cookies after they cooperated with the doctor and Cobalt shrugged as he chewed and swallowed the last bite of his delicious burger. "Don't have to tell me twice. I want to get the hell out of here ASAP."

Diamond got called over by a doctor and Cobalt gave her a smile. "Seriously though, thanks Diamond."

Kuhaku Shiro - Beacon Cafeteria

Shiro sighed, growing more and more agitated. As he boredly stared at the holographic projections of various patented systems for reloading and news articles of the newest types of hard goods (*metals and their alloys), he was having difficulty deciding which he should commit to. Ultimately, with time, he could machine and forge any one of the existing designs and work with any number of different materials before deciding what to potentially upgrade his weaponry with.

Problem was...

He didn't necessarily have the luxury of fat pockets to go buying up small shipments of materials willy-nilly. Not only that, but each system had their merits. Some were more reliable. Some were proven by the test of time. Others were easily modified or upgraded if need be. Yet others were more expensive and some had said that the newer designs attempted to fix a problem that didn't exist. With a groan, Shiro let his forehead slam down against table. The utensils clattering on his now-clean plate of breakfast each time he did so.

Bang! Bang! Bang!
Shiro was indecisive.
Ruffling his head of silver-white hair, he huffed and looked up.
Letting himself get distracted for the moment as he rested his chin on the table, his eyes wandered about the rest of the cafeteria.

It wasn't until his ears twitched that he picked up a peculiar sound and heard the concerned murmurs of other students did his eyes eventually lay on Gren. Who was eating. Eating his plate, rather. Blinking and furrowing his brow, Shiro tilted his head curiously at his friend. What was he so distracted by? Was he working on something?

That was when it hit Shiro.
"Gren!"
His expression immediately brightened with a toothy grin and he stood up with a start, slamming his bandaged hands against the table.
He had worked with Gren on their latest mission in fabricating some pretty interesting gear.
He had seen Gren from time to time in the armory as well.
His teammate and friend would be the perfect person to ask for a second-opinion.

Locking his Scroll and pocketing it, Shiro picked up his tray and hopped up onto the table.
Startling other random students with his sudden unexpected action.
What was it with him and tables, anyways?
In as straight a path as possible, Shiro then proceeded to leap over the heads of other students.
Basically using each clear spot of table as leaping pads before he leapt right into the empty seat next to Gren with a loud clatter.

"Gren! Just the guy I needed to talk to!"
Setting down his tray and taking out his Scroll, Shiro opened the holographic images of the same information was looking at earlier.
"So, I'm having a problem right now. Y'see, I want to think of ways of how I can improved Perun, my shield right? I was thinking that my way of using and loading Dust is rather dangerous and inefficient. So! I was going to potentially mill out and machine small hollows into Perun to fit it for an internal reloading mechanism."

Without waiting to see if Gren was even paying attention, busy, or whatever else, Shiro instantly shot off into his rapid fire one-sided conversation with him. Speaking quite loudly and with his usual feverish energy.

"Not only will I have safer ways to store Dust, but I could reload much faster than how I could manually. Not to also mention with Perun milled out a little, it'll be a bit lighter and easier to carry around. I may lose a bit of defensive strength and integrity with it, but that's a minor issue right now. Y'see, my problem comes with deciding exactly which mechanism to machine and smith. Right now I'm looking at a direct-impingement gas system and a short or long-stroke piston system but both of those require a gas propellant. But there are also other existing designs and I'm wondering if I should just dedicate the time to make my own reloading mechanism."

Shiro scratched his head, frowning.

"Then the next problem is what materials should it be made out of? Y'see, I'm kind of a stickler when it comes to quality parts and I don't want to skimp on the good stuff. I typically work with geisteel/siderite alloys, but right now I don't have the Lien to afford enough raw materials. So, I was looking for other materials of the same quality but some of them I've read don't quite make the snuff, and others are supposedly better but as a result are more expensive!"

Standing up in his seat, enough hyperactive energy built up just from talking about weapons and weapon upgrades, Shiro attempted to 'shake' Gren to little/no effect as he practically shouted.

"Do you see the dilemma I've having, Gren?! Do you see the problems I'm running into?! Help me!"
Shiro yelled, animatedly.

Gren had finally stopped eating his cutlery, and now that his stomach was fed he could start thinking calmly again. While he certainly knew he was on the right path with this Grav Pack design, and was somewhat certain how he made it, if he rushed into it now it'll only end up with more explosions and possibly, lost data. That and Gren was starting to run out of materials and supplies to work with, and if he did rush through it now he won't have enough to actually use for classes or more straightforward maintenance and repair with his weapons. That being said, Gren also didn't want to lose this vibe he had. He knew he was on the right track, and he just needed more inspiration. If he tried to work on it now his one-track mind would only keep making the same mistakes over and over again until he kills himself or gets it right. No, he needed something new, something that would make his brain start thinking differently so it doesn't stagnant. But he couldn't think of anything but that Grav Pack. He needed something new, something different, something that he could work on to keep his hands and mind busy, but not recklessly.

Gren was thinking so hard that he didn't notice Shiro until he literally fell from the skies. "Whoa!" As usual, Shiro started running his mouth a mile a minute, but Gren did listen. Perhaps it was a gift from the heavens, because Shiro was talking about improving his weapon, which Gren could use to try and figure out what he needed to do himself. As he listened, ideas ran through Gren's head. "Mhmm..." Gren took to considering it. While there are certainly preexisting designs for gun blades like Perun, many reliable and effective. Indeed, a lot of the top-shelf weapons had very similar designs baring a few signature company quirks, simply because it was the most effective and anything else wouldn't be as good. Yet at the same time, one doesn't make improvements by copying and pasting the same design over and over. It's all about experimentation and changing a bit at a time until eventually your final product is nothing like the original. An idea that made Gren briefly think back to his Grav Pack.

Then there was materials to take into account. While Shiro wanted to use nothing but the best, Gren was always in favor of using what works; Iron and Steel, plain and boring as they were, has not failed Gren so far. While his internals may need fancier metals, the God Eater didn't use any metal you couldn't harvest from a scrap yard. A mechanical marvel true, and that was because Gren never needed special metals for it. Replace parts perhaps, but it has never been anything that was hard to find. Yet at the same time, Gren did consider that using better metals would help improve his designs. The fact he's never considered it may have been a reason why his jetpacks keep blowing up, and not just because he was using an experimental propulsion device. Then he had an idea.

"Shiro, I have an idea. It might be a bad one. We could get into trouble. But I have an idea where we could get materials. Remember our first test at the Emerald Forest? Where we fought that robot? I looked into it, and that wasn't just a training robot. It was an old mine looking for Titanite. Shards, chunks... Maybe even slabs. As for you weapon design I got a few, though they were originally designed for The God Eater. There's also the matter of how you want to use your dust. Do you want bullets infused with dust, blasts of dusts, cone, or maybe something versatile? Also since Perun is your shield, I suggest long-stroke. Actually, speaking of infusions, does Perun use any phials? I'm almost certain it's Impact Phials, but you would know best. Anyways come with me Shiro, it's ADVENTURE TIME!"

With ideas racing in his head Gren stood up to put away his tray. The Grav Pack was but an afterthought right now, with many other ideas in mind to help Shiro improve his weapon. Plus getting that Titanite will vastly improve Gren's own weapon. Even if he couldn't collect anything but shards, he could shape them into new teeth for The God Eater. As he was fantasizing about potential upgrades, Gren barely saw Sangue in his path. When he finally noticed her and was about to walk right into her, he immediately fell to the side to avoid her, crushing a table underneath his bulk. Gren lifted the plate above his head so it didn't fall to the floor, but in exchange he fell flat on his face. But compared to the explosions he's been going through since yesterday, a little fall like this hardly phased him. He was more concerned about Sangue and if he accidentally crushed her. Getting back onto his feet Gren turned to Sangue. "Sorry, sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going."

Standing up to bow and apologize, Gren couldn't help but notice Sangue's arm. As she was in a few of his classes, Gren was vaguely aware of who Sangue was and what she could do. Which is to say, she's pretty good at using her sword and she had a mechanical right arm. Sure it wasn't nearly as advanced as Gren's, but she made it work. It wasn't much aside from a stub with a chain claw on it though. His mind, once racing with thoughts about his Grav Pack, now started to analyze Sangue's arm. He looked at her intently as he started to formulate ideas about how to improve her arm. Size it for her body, take account her physical abilities, the materials, her fighting style. More ideas came to him about how he could improve it in ways that Gren could actually try to use on himself. He was well aware that somewhere in the world, probably Atlus, there is a better version of him. Just as strong and as tough, but in a smaller frame. More efficient, more human. Perhaps even able to do things that Gren couldn't do even now. Yes, the possibilities were endless.

Soon Gren's snapped back to reality when he realized he had been leering at Sangue for some time now. A bit embarrassed he tried to redirect the attention to her. "Are you alright? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

@harinezumikouken@NarayanK

~Cafeteria~

Lost in her own little world, Sangue wondered what her Claw could do if she had it upgraded.

Maybe... it could be longer.

Or maybe the claw itself could be bigger.

The downside to those ideas would be that it'd weigh more, so that meant less mobility. Losing mobility didn't sound good.

As she continued to come up with primitive ideas at the pace of a snail, the woman jolted for a split moment when a bulky figure barely dodged her right as she sat down. A table got crushed underneath the large man. It was a poor table unfortunate enough to meet its demise in the most random of days.

Looking up, she stared at Gren with a blank expression. She had seen him before in her classes several times, and considered him to be one of the particular people who could probably annihilate her in a sparring match. He seemed like a nice person, though.

Nice people didn't say hurtful things on purpose. Personal experience from meeting people who tried to hurt her told her that.

When Gren seemed troubled and asked if she was alright, the woman nodded softly as she stared at him with her fire-opal eyes, her expression remaining idle.

The hand she used to touch her Claw remained on the weapon as Sangue continued to look at Gren. She then glanced at the white-haired Faunus next to him, bowing slowly before she began to glance between the two.

She also saw the fluffy-eared person before...

She then realized that she was actually pretty decent at remembering what people looked like- she just had trouble memorizing everything else.

Her attention had been shifted from her Claw to the students next to her. She remembered seeing them... They were students she had seen and heard of several times, even if they did not directly meet up too much. Sometimes in class, sometimes outside of class; they had always been there, even if they weren't interacting with her a lot. As she tried to come up with things to talk about, the red-haired swordswoman spoke to Gren with a somewhat concerned tone, despite her expression remaining idle.

"...A...re you alright...?"

Kuhaku Shiro - Beacon Cafeteria

Shiro blinked when Gren mentioned that he had an idea.
"Hmm?"
No such thing as a bad idea in Shiro's head.
Which...honestly was probably the reason he got into so many sticky situations and earned himself a world of trouble.
Tilting his head as his ears twitched, he grabbed at his chin and made a face.
Almost frowning.
"Titanite? But isn't that a mineral? Meant for reinforcement of existing metals? Plus, that stuff is hard to come by and expensive. Not sure if Beacon would be happy we took something from their property if they found out. Much less in an underground cavern that used to be a mine..."

Shiro suddenly sneezed.
Sniffling, Shiro rubbed at his nose.
Weird, he wasn't allergic to anything like dust...
Ah, well.

"And you know I only use Dust shotshells for my physical attacks. I'm not good at using Dust or shooting things up like you are."
Gren wasn't making much sense.
He was definitely distracted by something.
"And long-stroke piston systems, while robust, come with other problems like increased internal wear. Carrier tilt. Increased recoil and weight...I was actually thinking short-stroke if not direct impingement..."
Shiro shook his head, he had already explained his usage of Dust shotshells.
What were these...phials that mentioned?
Made no sense at all.
Maybe his brain needed to be re-calibrated or something.

Shiro shrugged and stood up with his own tray, following after Gren.
If they could manage to safely and quickly steal away...no, borrow away some Titanite, that may help solve some of Shiro's issues as far as material needs went. He could then settle for cheaper metal like bradden steel and reinforce it with the titanite to where it was practically as strong and durable as his usual geisteel/siderite alloys. Plus...adventure!

They didn't make it very far without Gren almost bulldozing over another student, Gren narrowly avoiding her as he crashed to the side and destroyed a table. Shiro jumped with a start and dropped his own tray, looking around nervously at the dismayed cafeteria workers and curious students.

"Ah! Gren! You alright boss?"
Thankfully, Gren stood soon after and was unscathed. Of course he would be.
Why Shiro worried in the first place was beyond him. Nothing could stop him. Well, other than cute girls. But then again, what teen-aged boy wasn't stopped by a pretty young thing?

Peering from around Gren's side, Shiro saw who it was that Gren nearly pancaked. All Shiro could remember was that she was the pink-haired samurai girl who was missing an arm. Her name failing to resurface from his memory. Come to think of it, he never really learned her name in the first place. Right? Or even talked at all. Was she even in their same class? He couldn't remember. Gren grew quiet after his apology and piqued Shiro's interest. Looking up at his friend's face, he found him staring intently at the pink-haired girl's arm and couldn't help but follow his gaze and stare at it as well.

As rude as that may have been.

Blinking, Shiro tilted his head curiously as he marveled at how...
Crude her arm seemed. Like it was some makeshift slap-dash junker someone tossed together as a joke. Yet this fellow student probably used it to great effect in training and combat. She had to if she was still alive at this point in life, anyways. Leaning in closer, he examined it with the same intensity that Gren was. Hell, even Shiro could forge together something far more impressive. There was once a great mind whose name started with an 'L' and had to do with 'Angels' who using primitive and basic gears and system of pulleys made a completely mobile suit of plate armor. With that as a base to work off of and combining modern materials and manufacturing techniques, Gren to work on the internal circuitry and wiring, Shiro could most definitely make something far better. Even make it aesthetically pleasing as well.

"Hmm..."

Did the girl still have nerves within her shoulder that functioned? If she did, Shiro knew of some bionic tech where they attached nerve endings to circuits and cards that allowed for voluntary control of the prosthetic. He had heard the procedure to do so hurt like absolute hell, but the end result was worth it. It was as if the amputee victim had been given a completely brand new and functioning arm. As if it were their own. Other crazier minds even did full arm transplants...

The girl bowed to them.
How polite.
Then again Gren also bowed.
Should he bow?
Whatever.

After a few tense silent moments shared between the three of them, the girl spoke. Shiro's ears straining to pick up her soft, quiet voice.

"Hah? What was that? Did you say something?"
Shiro stuck a finger in one of his faunus ears to 'clear it' as they then perked up and twitched, trying to hear her speak again.