Uh huh.

This was a textbook honey pot. Get in there, be alluring until you think you have a hook on the target, then leave. Demand that you be chased. And then...

crunch

As a kid, there were always spy movies in the Piper house. One of the first ones he had been allowed to watch in its entirety was GoldenEye. That god damned movie...Jericho could still remember the abject terror he had felt watching Xenia Onatopp crush that poor bastard to death right in the middle of the deed, and how much she reveled in his death throes beneath her. It made his hair want to stand up on end just thinking about that...that god damned movie.

It was the one they loved to put on most back in the dorm, too. Always quipping and making Sean Bean jokes, always trying to get a rise out of him...

Unbidden, the crimson rune on his hair began to glow.

He hated GoldenEye almost as much as he hated Moonraker.

...blugh.

But enough about Moonraker.

Treating the neon red, levitating ends of hair floating between him and Bianca like they weren't even there, Jer responded with a casual: "The penthouse. Well, that should be easy to remember, at least."

Check the pool.

...!

They're gone.

They were making their move. Probably already at the penthouse. Ready to crush him, garrote him with an otter tail, smother him with a musty hoodie by the kid with the hair...the hedgehog Faunus.

This was so messed up.

"I'll be sure to buzz your order up later, at least. The cruise food here hasn't made anyone sick. Lately."

But the cruise doesn't have access to my super-secret family recipe for ricin gravy.

...Then again, she seemed ditzy enough to avoid eating it somehow. The hedgehog would be a better mark for the ricin gravy. He looked like he rarely got a decent meal.

Perfect planning, Piper.

Now if only he could do something about this rune...

Why does his hair glow.

“Great! Thank you so much Jericho, I’ll see you around!” I replied, trying to ignore just about the craziest fashion statement I’ve ever seen a person, let alone a waiter on duty, make. Maybe that was his thing. Did this cruise have a theme?

Was there a theme that I didn’t know about? That would be unacceptable.

“Okay, well, have a good evening Jericho.” I said with a small wave. Quickly turning towards my room my hair flew up behind me along with my summer dress flaring up in the night time ocean breeze. Something about a cruise like this made everything just so.

I found myself walking away from Jericho with a huge grin, it had been a while since I had been this happy for no real reason. Even before I was kidnapped it wasn’t since I had met Gratia that I had really been having this much fun.

Walking up the steps to the rooms I saw Gratia on the deck. I thought about going to speak with her, ask if she was having a good time. But I learned a long time ago that sometimes the best way to ensure Gratia has a good time is to do absolutely nothing involving her at all. Not always, but she looked like she was pretty peaceful right now.

Best not to disturb her.

The wait for the elevator was almost as long as the ride up. I found myself pretty much just staring at the ceiling, waiting to arrive. It felt longer than it should’ve but it was a long night and I was tired so that was pretty much what I chalked it up to.

Walking into my room… Well, I mean, I’m technically an heiress. It was nice! Definitely.

Just nothing I haven’t seen before I suppose.

King sized bed with some typical Vacuan cotton, probably imported in recently. Leaping on to them and curling myself into a little Bianca Burrito I found myself staring at the ceiling again. What was I waiting for this time?

I felt some wetness on my cheek.

A leak? In a place as nice as this?

I retreated out of my Bianca Burrito and flew up to the ceiling in order to inspect the leak. But I couldn’t find it.

I must’ve spent five whole minutes looking for it.

It took me that long to realize I was crying.

“No.”

I’m fine.

I met a boy.

He might like me.

I’m fine.

Gratia is here.

I’m rejoining Beacon.

I am fine.

Estelle is a teacher now.

Everything is moving again.

The world is back to the way it’s supposed to be.

Why aren’t I fine?

Oh, this was cruel. She had to put a stop to this. She had wielded Lawnslot a handful of times in combat class - and even on their mission this morning, which already felt like a lifetime ago - and she recognized the sheer work and craftsmanship that had gone into it. Plus building Ben a new tonfa from scratch was gonna seriously cut into her [TBA] plans for the weekend. What if she wanted to improve on Lawnslot? Or go out shopping? Or...or...on the other hand...



Ben was notoriously easy-going. If she tried to return Lawnslot to him, he would only force her to take it, bet or no bet. And more likely than not, if she didn't accept this bet, he would only come back with one even crazier. Soon, he would end up betting vital organs. A kidney. A spleen. One or both testicles.

(Wait, I own those!)

Taking a badass weapon she could improve on (or flip for profit) away from Ben was...

...the best way of protecting his testicles!

She was such a great bestie.

"Cap," she said solemnly, already pulling out her wallet, "you've got a bet."

Behind her Beacon Student ID and her suspended driver's license (one year and fifty one weeks to go!) was a small treasure trove of business cards to be whipped out on a moment's notice. They tended to add a little bit of legitimacy to any quick smash-and-grab con job, even though any asshole could make them in a computer program or buy them on the Internet for less than ten bucks. Still. In the eclectic lighting of a club, it wasn't like the professor was gonna be able to read it anyway. She'd take her at her word.

People liked keeping Lauren cheerful.

Lessee here...here we go! Fashion!



...Heh heh. What a gig. Lauren kept those changing room cameras running like they were monitoring nuclear footballs.



That was from her last stay in Mistral. Pretty fun time, even if she wasn't that comfortable in the little black dress the dress code demanded. But at least no one ever thought to investigate the eye candy when convertibles went missing...no one except her brother, anyway.



woohoohoohoo how'd that get there

Better hide that one from the rest of the team.



Aha!

"Start the clock. I ride."

Lauren confidently pulled herself up from the booth and began approaching the bar, quickly sizing up the Beacon professor and wondering what the best way was to make her approach. She could go for the fawning gold digger routine, the confident drink plug, the interrogation expert...

Aha.

She knew just what to do.

Within eight seconds of reaching the bar, Lauren reached for Estelle's handbag, nestled safely beside her chair, and grabbed it brazenly.

"...Benadryl." I growled in realization, head currently buried futilely in a pillow under the cover of a darkened room. "I forgot the Benadryl."

The walk back to the penthouse rooms had been a completely uneventful one, as far as walks went. A quick brush past some girl roughly my age in a bunny-eared hoodie was actually about the only thing that even happened, and you couldn't count that as an event. We just bumped into each other and said our "excuse me"s before going upon our respective ways. I must have had seen her earlier on the ship, however, because there was a familiarity to her I couldn't exactly place.

Ah, when I was talking to Gratia. That was it, I'd seen her milling about on the deck while we discussed an entire musical genre that I knew nothing about.

Speaking of, Gratia had apparently returned to the balcony after a while. I'd noticed her up there on my way back, headphones back on her head and holding some sort of dessert in her hands. Between that and the lollipops, I could tell that, ironically enough, she had a sweet tooth. Funny thing to learn about a girl as... testy as she was.

Life is funny like that, sometimes. Like how trick of the light and overhearing a loud conversation through slightly thin walls can make you swear you'd just seen a streak of golden hair flash across your vision, and heard a faint ring of laughter in the air to go with it. And looking around for the source for a moment, you found nobody before wondering if you'd lost it.

And with good reason, too.

Sheesh, if I'd started dreaming up girls now, there was no hope for a guy like me. As someone with a keen insight upon those who looked towards escapism, I could say with utmost certainty that doing so would put a man fully upon the slippery slope and go screaming past the point of no return. Thankfully, I was smart enough to recognize what had temporarily fooled my senses before I could get excited. I had more than enough of that for one week, and it was best to keep yourself honest instead of falling into a self-delusion.

If this ship had a ghost, she would be exorcised before she could ruin business, after all. Thank god for having a cool head.

After that near-miss on a bout of temporary insanity, it was just stairs upon stairs until I hit Room 1004.

And I inevitably returned to square one.

With a groan, I sat up in the bed, with half a mind to just admit defeat and turn on the lamp. My immune system, naturally, had gained a significant boost from the activation of my Aura and Semblance, so forgetting Benadryl may not at first glance seem like a terrible mistake.

However.

The antihistamine factor is never what I had taken it for besides a couple of occasions. In accordance with everything that was not the point of the medicine, I used it for one very crucial side effect.

That a couple of them will all but knock a guy dead for hours. Intended as a sleeping aid or otherwise, Benadryl was very, very good at being one. And right now, I could more than use something to push me over the edge.

...Or.

Would it actually work now? With my immune system working beyond full capacity, and my auto-regenerative semblance always in effect, would such side effects as drowsiness even occur? Would that constitute as damage to be repaired, or not?

When you think about it, the drowsiness is caused by the medicine entering your bloodstream, right?

...Would that mean I could down four of them and knock people out with my bloo--

I needed to get off this train of thought, I had no earthly idea where it was going. It'd definitely be contrived if I could remove someone from their consciousness by healing them, though, that was for sure.

And seriously, if it could affect them, then wouldn't that mean it would affect me as well?

...Anyways.

I knew that some things had taken a hit in their efficacy before. I'd given up on ibuprofen, for example, because by the time it had started to work, whatever damage, aches, or pains that I had were already healed up. And for most other things, I hadn't really found a need to take anything. Even allergies, although this year had been fairly light on them all around.

It might have not even been worth packing after all...

"Hrmh."

Well, whether it would have been a pointless decision or not.

I was certainly in a conundrum now.

A King-sized Bed.

Vacuan Cotton Sheets.

Down-filled, voluminious pillows.

Personalized thermostat set to a perfect temperature.

None of it being enjoyed as they were supposed to.

And that, if I had to guess, was how I'd found myself sitting on a chair, out on the small balcony behind the room, earbuds in and looking up at the sky again. I'd found myself growing a bad habit of staring off into nothing stead of at least trying to force myself into unconsciousness. I'd found myself thinking that maybe I could lull my stupid brain into a false sense of security, I guess.

And for all of Gratia's contentious points, I'd also found myself realizing I could get behind her tastes in music, no problem.

Krysanthe was somewhat surprised the beast had the presence of mind to keep track of both hunters-in-training despite it's seeming willingness to swing futily at her, but not overly worried. The Grim seemed be distressed from the constant harrying and decided to go entirely on the offensive to counter it. A move that could only be described as a mistake. Rather than retreating as she had been doing so far Krysthane suddenly changed tactics by rushing forward past the over-sized fists that aimed to crush her. The Redcap's attention was diverted from her to the wound in it's leg and the offending party that had inflicted it, attempting to use the same leg to retaliate. This offered Krysanthe a brief chance to see Able before his yank on the tail, pulling the Grim off balance and causing it to whirl on Able, forgetting entirely about Krysanthe.

Determined to make the most use of this opportunity as the Grim rose into the air Krysanthe launched from the ground and landed onto where the creature's shoulder blades would be, vaulting directly upwards into the air while also pushing the monstrous multi-limbed mutant into the ground. Then Krysanthe, at the peak of her jump began hurtling end over end, water flying everywhere and her semblance boosting her to greater speeds and allowing her to adjust to any movements from her target. Like a meteor Krysanthe plunged downwards, at the last possible moment extending one leg into an ax kick to smash into the Grim's glimmering red orb of a head. To be honest the most remarkable feat was that Krysanthe was able to make heads or tails out of her spin, if she hadn't done this move several times before this in fact it might've been impossible to do so.

Geni rubbed his chin in thought. How many things did he actually have to do today? He had to reacquaint himself with the school grounds, meet with his teacher regarding missing work, resign himself to a team once again, and find something to eat. Between all that and unpacking, his schedule was pretty much fully booked. But how could he pass up the opportunity to spend the day with a girl, alone in the woods. The opportunities for close proximity situations were endless, who knew where that could or would lead.

Upon her mentioning Ivan though, Geni paused, cocking his head to the side. While he hated the kid for throwing him in the situation he was today, he didn't mean to have the guy leave all together. Whether or not the guy was completely full of himself and a home grown racist was beyond his control.

Eager to change the subject all together, Geni chose to comment on her first statement. "Well looks like we're one and the same." he mused, pointing to Apex Predator, the weapons that crossed his back. "I actually need to get used to these things, you wouldn't mind if I joined you? Would you?" he cooed, a grin plastering itself on his face. "On a another note- he began, stopping her before she could answer, her wording had caught her attention. This is the first time they see on another in two weeks and she tells him Ivan's quit? "Why bring up Ivan?"

@Prince of Seraphs

She was a quiet one, this Sangue. Gren supposed that is just how she was. It was rather odd, a few days ago her quietness actually intimidated him. He tried talking to her before but then they got attacked by raptors. She seemed cold, aloof, stoic. The type of lady you have to slay dragons before she'd give you the time of day. Yet after these recent exchanges with her, she was much... Cuter. Like all those images of her being this stonecold ice queen instead reveals she is a precious little bunny. But perhaps she just changed. Gren changed a bit these few days he's been at Beacon too. Before he tried to maintain a sort of alpha dominance, a macho personality. Well, he still kinda does. But he isn't afraid to show off his goofier side too, mostly with explosions and tinkering. Maybe one day he'd even show off his body mods.

Speaking of body mods, he couldn't help but look at Sangue's arm. Every scar has a tale, and Sangue's would be no different. Even if she was born this way, surely there was some stories she could tell about her claw. Gren wondered if Sangue was like him, having lost so much of himself in a battle that he barely remembers anymore. Well, it's not as if everyone who's missing limbs lost them in war. But until he was told otherwise, he wanted to know. "Say Sangue... If you don't mind me asking, how did you get that arm anyways? I mean... What happened to your right arm in the first place?" Perhaps this was an invasive question. Unlike Gren, it's not as if Sangue could hide the fact she was missing an arm. Even her fairly baggy robes made it obvious she wasn't a lefty out of choice. But perhaps there was some trauma behind her missing limb that she rightfully shouldn't trust Gren with.

"I mean... If you wanna talk. We still gotta wait for Shiro after all. Want something to drink?" Gren then took out some apple cider and a bottle of water for Sangue. The cider was just juice, but branded as cider to make it seem like Gren was the kind of fellow who regularly drinks alcohol. But he wasn't a regular drinker, he just liked apple juice.

@NarayanK@harinezumikouken

OTHERS

The sandwich maker made his sandwiches, simply enough. Fried chicken between two slices of hamburger buns with a slice of pepperjack cheese on it. Condiments were available just on the other side of the stand, and anything extra like more cheese or drinks they could buy for just 1 lien. The ferret took one of the sandwiches in it's mouth and climbed onto Cian's shoulder, unwrapping just enough of the sandwich for it to start gorging. Despite her lithe frame, the ferret was more then able to not only eat his sandwich, but also hang onto Cian. All the while the hyperactive weasel chatted with the two hunters. "Good people! I Scoot. Names?" The weasel asked telepathically as he ate. The shop keeper, quite capable of hearing these telepathic thoughts that Scoot was saying, cleared his throat and looked twards Jack. "That'd be fifteen Lien."

@Sho Minazuki@Suku

Her silence continued to stick around as she remained at the docks next to Gren. She enjoyed experiencing a lack of conversations sometimes. Sometimes she wanted to know more about becoming more of a social bee like her friends. Little by little, she would learn, and every bit of experience helped her change. But until that day came, she would always come to accept silence as a time to reinforce a calm composure.

She was used to growing in silence. A world where words mattered less than her actions had trained her to do so. It was nothing to be proud of, but also nothing to be ashamed of.

The man named Gren seemed nicer the more she spent time with him. He offered her a drink, and he didn't mock her for speaking in a rather broken language.

And the question he asked her...

It sparked something odd within her.

Her eyes widened, a peculiar sting poking at her heart and mind as she processed his words. Her missing arm. The one she lost and had to replace with a crude weapon.

She remembered, and she remembered well. It was the loss of a part of her body that prompted her to even think of going to Beacon eventually... Normally, it should have made her sad to think of the memory. Something related to the loss of something precious... It should be bad enough to warrant sorrow to wash over her.

But it didn't.

Instead, she felt more confusion when she tried to understand the events of her past.



Obviously, she did not rip off her own arm because she wanted to. Someone else had done the deed, and it was someone she still had yet to recognize.

"..."

Perhaps talking about it with a man who offered her a drink was not an entirely bad idea. Bowing politely, she took the apple cider from Gren.

"...I... lost my arm... to someone...

"A man... much stronger than... me."

Her voice softer than before, she unknowingly brought her shoulders closer to herself as she remembered the less hopeful times of her life.



"I... do not know who, but..."

She looked down at her clothes, her thoughts travelling in the depths of her own mind as she tried to deliver her words to Gren correctly.

"He... took my... clothes off," she said without hesitation, unknowingly speaking more than a few sentences to Gren for the first time. "And... he took his own... clothes off. He... was the one who cut my... arm..."

But truthfully, that was not what she found to be noteworthy of the loss of her arm.

"I was surrounded by... my blood. For the first... time..."

...

...

...

"Then... someone I knew little of... helped me."



"My family... left fairy tales... in my home," Sangue whispered. "Tales of... nice people...

"They were... called 'heroes'...

"I think... the man who... saved me... is a hero..."



"He was... Apoph...is. Apophis. His name was... Apophis."

Saying his name, she smiled warmly. She did not tell Gren of how the man known as Apophis saved her, for the red-haired man told her not to speak of him too much. But still, she at least wanted to tell others of what Apophis had done for her- even if he did not brag about his own strength and feats.

"He helped me when... I was hurt.

"And..."

Glancing at her shoulder, then at Gren, she continued,

"...he... made the Claw. The... 'Apophis Claw', as he... called it."



"He looked... scary. He... had a lot of scars. Even now, his... looks... never changed. But if it weren't... for him... I would not... be here. If... it weren't for... him, I..."

Her expression grew solemn, yet a small smile quickly replaced it.

"...wouldn't have... met... the nice people... here..."

I wouldn't have met Amy... Ben... Lauren... Luke... if he did not fulfill the cliche of a hero.

She fell silent as she stared at Gren for a few good seconds before averting her gaze from him.

"I-I'm... sorry if... I spoke too much," she said quietly as she bowed slightly, her expression becoming much more vulnerable than before as her cheeks heated up. She had never thought about sharing her past with anyone for as long as it did not cross her mind. Now that she actually did, however, she could not help but hope that Gren did not think of her as some oddball. The last thing she wanted was for others to think of her as an annoying huntress.

Apophis always told her to try being a "Mary Sue," as he liked to call it. Such people were apparently not too obnoxious as long as they did not stand out too much in a spotlight. Sangue was not perfect, however, so it was only natural for her to know almost nothing of how to be one.

_{@Lucius Cypher}

@Plank Sinatra@Write@Silvan Haven@HereComesTheSnow


If she were to describe the cruise with a single word, "excess" was the one that first came to mind. Everything about the ship was geared towards promoting frivolous spending to a fucking ridiculous extent. From the gaudy decorations that sought to create an atmosphere of luxury to the 'fresh', expensive ingredients pointlessly used in the food, there were extravagant displays of wealth as far the eye could see. Maybe it was a satisfactory state of affairs for those spineless leeches who had paid their way onto the vessel in a pathetic attempt to seem like they mattered, as if the sheer amount of money oozing from the atmosphere could fix their dogshittery, but to Gratia Mindaro, it was appallingly disgusting. The entire thing reeked of waste. So much cash squandered for the pettiest of reasons.

At least the stench of the impotence kept the Grimm away from the ship as well. The brainless, unwashed hordes of fools playing at being something special were too far gone in their dull little puddles to generate any form of negative thought that could possibly attract the dark creatures.

Gratia turned a corner, stepping into the hallway where the group's rooms were. It was beginning to get late, thus it would be for the best if she were to retire (to room 1002) for the evening. She couldn't possibly enjoy the gaudy consumerist atmosphere tomorrow if she were too tired, after all. It "definitely" wouldn't do to have a shitty time on the cruise. The Mistralese teenager composed herself, shutting down the scowl that had been emerging onto her face. The lollipop would have fallen out otherwise.

As she neared her door, she paused, onyx eyes glancing towards the room opposite to hers. 1001. Bianca's dwelling for the duration of the cruise.

The other girl was likely already in bed. She could hear the goat-fucker making an 'early bird' joke already.

Gratia looked back to her own door, before turning towards 1001 again. She wasn't particularly tired, and there was something important she needed to do. It was necessary that she was to talk to her compatriot, and she wouldn't let anything get in her fucking way.

She tapped on the door to 1001.

"Nuit, are you awake?"

Long before the Redcap, in its bestial fury to mutilate Abel, remembered the second student that challenged it, Krysanthe was in the air. A full-force stomp, delivered to the core of its body, floored the Grimm. While it didn't sink into the ground, its legs splayed out to the side, their odd angle suggesting that whatever bones supported them had been shattered. The soon-to-be huntress hardly stopped there, however, and with the threat pacified and poised to suffer its punishment, Abel relaxed his stance to watch. Like a flying, golden guillotine, wreathed in water and locked into a crazy spin, she fell from above to obliterate the Grimm's head beneath her heel. Clear chitin and chunks of black-streaked, red meat flew in every direction as her axe kick's power carried her halfway through the Grimm's body before her momentum ceased. It was fortunate that the fresh corpse would be dissolving imminently, for extricating her leg from the gooey mess might have been problematic.

It melted away into inky ashes, and Abel flicked a fuming fleck from his jacket. He nodded in approval. “Super good!” Would that his word choice was as praiseworthy. “That was more teamwork than got done my whole first mission.” A glum frown stained his features. “Which is depressing.”

Selecting a random, though non-gulchward direction, he started to walk. After a few seconds of gears spinning in his head, he turned his head slightly to say, “You know, aside from your friend Sienna's injury, and the...um, other girl's alcohol craving, your team seems like a pretty close bunch. Mind, uh, mind telling me about them?” He brushed a bead of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. Fitting, that armed combat wouldn't pose as much of an arduous problem as making conversation.

Gren listened as Sangue spoke about her tale. As expected, it was a dark one. It made Gren's synthetic blood boil hearing the first part, but when Sangue mentioned her savior it had Gren's interest piqued. He seemed like a nice enough fellow, scary as he may be from Sangue's description. Still, what Sangue said told Gren much about Sangue herself. He could understand, somewhat, her own personality and the way she carries herself. She doesn't seem too... Traumatized, but it's not as if people are all traumatized equally. Gren would just need to be careful.

More importantly was Sangue's savior, this Apophis. Apparently he was the one who made Sangue's claw. "The Apophis Claw", as it was called. Simple enough Gren figured. It did make Gren shortly debate how much he wanted to replace Sangue's arm. Her current claw, the Apophis Claw, was something of a memento from her savior after all. Perhaps he and Shiro could implement the claw into their design? Or perhaps it would be best if they worked without it? If nothing else, they could always try to melt it down into parts, or perhaps make a display case for it so Sangue can keep it in her memories.

"It's no problem Sangue. Thank you for telling me." Taking a drink from a bottle of water Gren was curious as where Shiro was at. Normally that guy was the first in and the last out in this sort of situation. But there was no rush, so Gren chose to keep trying to pass the time. Reaching into the cooler once more he took out some snacks in the form of Suikan, genetically mutated crossbreeds of watermelons and tangerines. Roughly the size of an appel, taste like a watermelon, yet peels like an orange. Seedless too. Last time Gren went to do some grocery shopping, they where having a sale of these mutant fruits so he had a bag full of them. Peeling one with a fair amount of ease Gren offered it to Sangue. "Want one? They taste just like watermelons."

Gren took another out for himself, though instead of peeling he simply bit into it, rines and all. The rine had a bitter-sweet taste and a odd crunchy-chewy exterior, like eating jerky. Combined with the sweet fruit within however, the overall taste was sweet and juicy. Eating his Suikan in two bites Gren had more questions. "So this Apophis, what's he like? If you want to keep talking. I don't mind listening to you Sangue, so don't be afraid to ah, speak up."

@NarayanK

"I got it this time" Cian muttered to herself as she handed the required amount. To be honest she was not that hungry but food was food she guessed hunger was the enemy she learned that lesson a while ago thanks to her guardian. "The name is Cian Kuze" She also whispered to the ferret the idea of speaking to it even if it could reply back was a bit odd for her in the long the run. Letting out a small sigh she suppose that things were better this way she was getting her required "social interaction" that was drilled into her head about how important it could be throughout her life.
@Lucius Cypher@Sho Minazuki

Her considerably long, yet short summary of the loss of her arm did not annoy Gren thankfully. As she drank from the apple cider, she noticed Gren handing her some sort of odd-looking green ball of... something. Only until he explained what it exactly was did she remember seeing something similar to it being eaten by people. From what she could recall though, those things were called-

Watermelons. Gren seemed to know them to, as his words implied that what he had was not exactly a watermelon even if it tasted like one. Sangue only ever had a taste of a slightly rotten watermelon when she found trash near the outskirts of the mountain. It was among the oddest items she managed to scavenge outside of her home when she was much younger. There was only one bite of the watermelon left, and it tasted like sour water. At the time, she considered it to taste very good.

Now that she thought about it, she could have tried out a watermelon after she received Lien. She must have forgotten about it when she ate bread for the first time.

It was probably one of the best things she ever tasted at the time, so it only seemed natural for an oddball like her to forget about watermelons.

Remembering the taste of the watermelon she had eaten long ago with a rather vague memory, she bowed as she received the mini watermelon thing from Gren. Watching Gren take a bite out of it, she took a bite out of the peeled fruit.

...

...

...

Her eyes glowed at the taste of the small thing. Why it was so sweet, she did not understand, but it tasted great. Her hunger from before didn't help either. She slowly bit at the fruit until only a one-fourth of it was left in her hand.

"...It's good..." The red snake said to herself quietly, eyeing the fruit with a hungry gaze like a child.

Another question from Gren caught her attention as he asked her what Apophis was like. She turned to Gren, then at the fruit in her hand as she wondered how she could exactly describe her "guardian."

"...He... doesn't talk... too much," she began, her expression more sentimental than before. "He knows... a bit more about... people than I... do...

"...

"...I think..."

It felt like a long while since she saw her guardian, but that may have been because she used to meet him almost on a weekly basis before she enrolled into Beacon. So when Gren brought Apophis up, she could not help but feel lost in her thoughts for a bit. She was quick to recover, however, as the red snake went back to talking with the green boar.

"He... wants me... to have fun sometimes... And in other... times, he... would drink... with me... when I feel... lonely...

"And... he makes... jokes sometimes..."

The red-haired woman continued to remember the things that made Apophis easy to remember for her. There were the superficial details, but there were also things that made him valuable to her. He may have used a rather vulgar language, and she even found some of his ways of fighting to be absolutely frightening to witness, but...

"...As scary... as he could be... he could also... be a wonderful... person..."

Sangue stared at her unfinished fruit as she remembered one of her saddest memories with Apophis, which happened to be his happiest, as her peaceful expression became solemn.



"He... stays at a... temple... a lot now... He throat chants and meditates... and cleans the temple... by himself..."

"He was... a scary fighter... but..."

"...He is... someone... who deserves... appreciation... and love... for how... much he changed... for my sake..."

Sangue made a small smile as she bowed to Gren.

"Thank... you for... listening..." The red snake spoke softly as she quietly finished the rest of her fruit. After she swallowed it, however, she grew curious of the man next to her. He seemed like a very nice person for not only listening to her, but also giving her free food. The tasty fruit seemed to make Sangue feel more comfortable with Gren.

With a quiet voice, she asked,

"If... I'm not r...ude by asking... What... are your... friends like... to you...?"

@Lucius Cypher@Suku

"Yeah I've been wondering... Is it talking? Was it talking...?", he inquired, bending forward a bit as if to inspect the ferret, hand on his chin.

"So... Are you actually talking...?", he was certain he heard it in his head, but not that he was more awake he was more aware that it wasn't just a random thought. As the sandwiches were being prepared he was staring down the ferret, Cian in her timidness seemed to be led on by it's demands, but Jack wasn't going to let it lead them on freely. Maybe they could be friends, or maybe it was just an annoyance, either way... Did this thing even have an owner?

At a distance, Beacon's campus would appear to be quite peaceful. Of course, there were students and faculty walking about the courtyard, some in a hurry and sprinting to where ever their destination was, but it was nothing out of the ordinary compared to any other school. That is, until a single Bullhead streaked across the bright blue sky, barely slowing down as the VTOL's landing gear deployed. Sparks would fly as metal skidded against metal and the aft doors would rush open, allowing two fully trained hunters to exit the craft while carrying a familiar redheaded student on a stretcher.

After praising the boy and his team on their success, Robert had collapsed yet again, unable to stay conscious from the extent of his injuries. The crew had done their best to keep him from bleeding out while the transport brought the team home, though that was only a temporary solution. His body was covered in cuts and bruises and there was a very likely chance that he had at least a few broken ribs as well as other internal damage that couldn't be seen with the field med packs available at the time.

As he was rushed toward the nurse's office, Robert would fade in and out of consciousness. He had so many bandages surrounding his body that he felt like an undead mummy and the bright lights that lit the hallways were practically blinding him. He could make out the silhouettes of those around him, but they were completely unrecognizable to him. Was this what dying felt like? He felt so weak and so tired. Maybe it was for the best. A poetic end to Team RPGD as its final member bled out from wounds he had mostly gained from the recklessness of his actions.

No. No, this couldn't be the end. No matter what, there was still one last goal he hadn't reached. One last thing that he promised his family he would accomplish before he would see them again. Until that loose end was tied, he couldn't let go. He would live through this and he would continue his search for justice. No matter what.

As expected, Sangue said little but meant much with her words. She also seemed interested in more Suikans, so Gren took out another one and peeled it to her as she told him about Apophis. From what Sangue told him, Gren had Apophis figured as a sort of mercenary type. Likely the kind of guy who’s done a lot of dirty work in the past, maybe even enjoys it. But he seemed to have changed since Sangue met him, or perhaps he just went to clean up his act? Gren wouldn’t really know until he met the man himself, since as much as Gren wanted to keep chatting with Sangue, it was better for Gren to learn this sort of thing from the man himself.

Silently nodded his head as he accepted Sangue’s thanks, she asked him what he thought about his friends. Now that was a question that Gren has considered. ”Hmm… Good question. Well, you’ve met Shiro. He’s my friend. There’s another member of my team named Abel, and he’s a friend too. Quiet guy, but he’s cool. I’m also friends with another faunas, Grane. He’s kinda rude but he’s a good guy.” There were a few other people he also knew, but not very well, so it’d they’re only tenuously friends with him. He made a mental note to meet them again and try to improve on their relationship.

”Shiro is a hyper guy. Sometimes I feel like he moves too fast for me, and well…” Gren patted his gut, reminding Sangue of his hefty weight. ”I have a hard time keeping up! But he’s got a lot of energy to do things that I couldn’t do by myself. He’s a sweet guy, but sometimes… Well, I guess I just wish I knew what’s going on in his head sometimes. There’s still parts about him I don’t understand.”

Next Gren thought about Abel. Honestly, Gren doesn’t know much about him despite being on the same team. He’s pretty tough and has a thing for Krysanthe from Team KESS (Or KSS for now), but aside from that Gren didn’t know him on a personal level. ”Abel’s cool. He’s a big fella like me, and has lightning powers too. A really chill guy, it’s easy to hang out with him. He’s a mystery though. Not much of a talker. I ah… Tend to do most of the talking around him. I’m sure he has some pretty interesting things to say though.”

And lastly there was Grane. Gren knew him longer than the others, and if Gren had to rank them, Grane would probably be one of Gren’s closer friends. They fought together in the White Fang, had each others backs, and did a lot of things together. Some good, mostly bad. That shared sin was something that kept the two together, knowing fully well that they were equally damned. Yet at the same time, a lot of time had passed since they were in the White Fang. Grane was a lot like his old self, but Gren… Mellowed out since then. While he was still brutish, Gren was less violent. Less crazy. It did make the boar faunas wonder how much he has changed, and how much Grane had changed.

”Me and Grane go way back. We grew up together in Vacuo, and he and I were just a couple of trouble makers. I’d say we had a brain/brawn thing going on, but honestly we were both pretty thuggish back then, heh he he he! Still, we… Got into a lot of trouble as kids, and eventually I left Vacuo to clean up my act. Grane stayed behind, but now that he’s here I hope that he’s turned a new leaf too. It’s been too long since we hung out.”

And with that Gren explained his thoughts about the three closest friends he had here. There were plenty of other people he knew, but he doesn’t know them well enough to say much more than their names and impression. ”I hope I didn’t bore you. I like hearing myself talk.” As Gren spoke, an airship arrived. It wasn't theirs however, but who came out did surprise Gren. It was Robert, the leader of the team RPGD. Gren didn't stand in their way when Robert was rushed off to the clinic, but Gren did call out to them. "Robert? Trad? Grane? Where's Delta? What happened?" Gren noticed a new face in the form of a caramel colored girl with sandy hair. Who was she?

@NarayanK@Guess Who@Awesomoman64@Nytem4re@Lazo

OTHERS

Scoot finished his sandwich in record time, holding the foil in his paws. When Jack asked it if it could talk, Scoot didn’t know what he meant. “Talk? What talk?” Scoot crawled down from Cian’s shoulder and onto Jack’s shoulder, depositing the sandwich foil into the trash nearby. “Have friends? Friends come and play?” Now it seemed like Scoot wanted to play some games, now that he’s eaten. However he was kind enough to ask before he started to play around on Jack or Cian’s body.

As for Jack’s question, he would be able to notice that at no point did the ferret ever open it’s mouth when it “spoke” to him. The fact it felt like he heard the ferret whenever it spoke did make it easy to mistake him as actually talking, since telepathic ferrets weren’t the most common things around. “Master? Whats Master? Scoot has friends. Shiro and Gren and Abel. Scoot like Abel. Abel warm.”

@Sho Minazuki@Suku

The view from the airship had been one he had not laid eyes on in a while. Beacon Academy. His team had been out in the field for a while, with little to sustain themselves. Not the worst mission he'd had the pleasure of being a part of, but losing a fellow comrade, a loss Grane saw as avoidable, was never something he got used to. True, he had barely known Delta, but Delta was still his comrade in arms, even if it was for a day or two.

It was... hard not blaming himself somewhat for Delta's death. Perhaps if he had fought a little harder, Grane could have stopped the grimm dragging Delta away. Maybe if he had just taken charge instead of Robert.. perhaps things would have gone differently.

At this point, Grane cared little about Robert's poor state. He would not mourn if the boy died of his injuries. As far as Grane was concerned, Robert was an incompetent leader, one not worthy of any of his loyalty. Clearly he had no ability to lead, let alone fight, and Grane wanted him off the team as soon as possible. If they had followed the boy's idea of infiltrating, they might have all died like Delta. Alone, and helpless. The Grimm would have tracked them down regardless of how quiet they were. They were beasts, not humans or faunus who you might be able to sneak by.

The airship finally landed onto one of the various landing zones, with medical staff rushing to take Robert away, who was still in critical condition.

"Robert? Trad? Grane? Where's Delta? What happened?" Gren's distinct deep voice called out to the team, asking them the inevitable question no one on the team really wanted to answer; but it was a reality they would have to face. Delta was gone. KIA. Before he could address Gren, the headmaster greeted them, asking them them for a sitrep.

Grane didn’t know how exactly he should address the headmaster, but he stepped forward and saluted Ozpin just in case. "Sir. Gone. In the heat of battle, during a grimm ambush very early in the mission, Delta was separated from Robert, Trad, and me. The grimm overwhelmed him, and dragged him away. We couldn't reach him in time, and we lost sight of him. Delta is most likely dead sir. Grimm don’t take prisoners.

With the grim news of Delta's passing, Grane decided now was a good time to tell the headmaster about his reservations about Robert. Robert's shortcomings were largely why Delta died anyways. "Sir. I believe Delta’s death was completely avoidable. I believe our team leader, Robert, ultimately created the situation where Delta was killed. It may have been a lack of experience, or indecisiveness, but he is at major fault. Robert could not come up with a sound plan of attack. This led to the grimm making the first move, ambushing us. In addition to his poor leadership skills, I do not believe he is in a proper mental state to continue leading a Hunter/Huntress team. Robert broke down emotionally several times throughout the mission. Quite frankly, I am asking you to discharge Robert from this team, if not from this school altogether.. Robert is an endangerment to this unit. Sir." Despite Grane's attempts to keep his voice neutral, his actual tone contained a mixture of anger and grief.

"However, this mission was not a failure, despite the loss of our comrade, and Robert’s lack of leadership; A huntress came to our aid." Grane gestured towards their new teammate. “Her name is Sand. She aided us in infiltrating the base, and in turning on the fort’s power. Without her, the mission would probably have been a failure. She is a good huntress. Sir.”

@Guess Who @Awesomoman64 @Nytem4re @Lazo @Lucius Cypher

Whilst the airship arrived, a development came from the opposite direction as well. From the academy, a pair of green-uniformed Beacon staff appeared, pushing a gurney, and on their heels emerged none other than Ozpin himself. The typically reserved and seldom-seen headmaster of Beacon moved now with urgent speed, his cane rapping a steady beat on the ground. A school nurse followed behind as the important-looking quartet approached the docks, and when the vehicle touched down to discharge its woeful cargo, the staff of the school were ready. Reports from the pilot in-flight had informed the school of the state of RGTS's leader, so the bespectacled youth did not even so much as need to struggle his way to the ramp; the two Beacon employees took great pains to lift him without stress into the gurney, and without further ado they were bound for the infirmary with the nurse beginning an on-the-run diagnosis.

Ozpin himself, however, remained behind. Plainly, and even startlingly, Beacon's headmaster was on edge. He leaned on his cane, silent for a moment to regain his breath and overall composure. Then, surrounded at once by an air of no-nonsense inquisitiveness and utmost concern, he spoke to the remaining three students. “On behalf of the entire academy staff, and the principles we stand for, I am deeply sorry. Had I known that this mission would escalate as it did, according to the reports I've received, I would have never inflicted it upon you. Rest assured that the missions coordination board will be subject to scrutiny. Given the circumstances, I am loathe to demand more of you, but I must ask: what happened to Delta? I would appreciate every detail any of you might be able to give.”

Ever since the battle at the fort had been resolved, the tension that had been keeping Sand awake and alert up until then had slowly dissipated, leaving behind the numerous discomforts that had accumulated throughout the ordeal. Her hands felt slightly numb and generally uncomfortable. She had only removed her gauntlets a few moments ago after wearing them continuously for hours on end. The mad dash through Grimm infested woods and the slow swim up to the abandoned fort had been but the start of it, and now that it was over, it was difficult to turn her thoughts away from a clean clothes and a hot shower.

So, as the group of students disembarked and the wounded Robert was brought out of the ship, Sand merely allowed herself to follow behind them, content to let Trad and Grane draw the reception’s attention as she gazed around the docks with tired eyes.

When the headmaster of Beacon academy himself stopped to address them, however, Sand felt some of that tension return. She drew closer as Grane began to answer, forcing herself to listen to the conversation. As the topic turned towards Robert’s performance in the mission, she found herself wanting to interject, but a simple thought forced her to hold her tongue.

He’s not wrong, she admitted to herself. Robert’s behavior had been strange at times. Not what she was used to in a team leader, at least. I can’t really speak for him, either way. They’ve known him for longer than I have, and their friend was already gone by the time I got there.

Her eyes drifted away for a moment, only to be drawn back in when she heard her name. She blinked, part of her irritated by Grane drawing attention to her, the other part slightly taken aback by the sudden praise.

She let out a sigh, briefly shaking her head. It didn’t matter. The coincidence that brought her there was big enough that she would need to explain herself eventually.

“Sand Vespa,” she introduced herself, clasping her hands behind her and injecting a degree of formality into her tone. “Sorry, Sir. My name may have crossed your desk. I was due to arrive next week, but I had business of my own at the fort. I happened upon these three there and—” she paused as a sudden image of the wounded Robert intruding into her mind. She shrugged it off as if she had merely been searching for the right word to describe the situation and continued “—this happened.”

@Guess Who @Awesomoman64 @Nytem4re @Lugubrious @Lucius Cypher

"Thank you," Amy said, giggling at the swordswoman's compliment despite herself, her feathers twitching slightly in her crimson hair as she let her hand fall back to her side. Sangue's mannerisms encouraged her to speak slowly and carefully herself, especially given how little knowledge she actually had of the redhead's inner workings--especially with regard to what might startle her into closing herself off again. It was an odd feeling for the former stripper, having only a slight idea of what her conversational companion was feeling and how she ticked. Maybe even real life experience and intentional practice with reading people only took you so far.

Then again, she'd never really dealt with anyone quite like BASL's snake. To be honest, she still wasn’t sure the woman was quite okay with her presence--meditation seemed like kind of a private thing--and she didn’t want to push her into something she wasn’t alright with, not before she was ready.

Still, she had enough of a persistent feeling that Sangue actually accepted her being around to go along with it. “I… I would like that, Sangue. I’d like that a lot.” The stripper smiled, turning to follow her teammate.

* * *

The next morning was… surprisingly peaceful. Waking up tended to be the worst part of her routine, inevitably in the middle of a dream or snapping awake in a cold sweat from a nightmare.

Wasn’t like she was dreaming of Valentino, or anything.

But, this time she woke up quietly and easily, her eyes adjusting to the still slight darkness of the bunk room easily. Her mouth opened in a yawn, then there was a long pause as she looked to her left. Evidently, meditating was a harder drug than she’d thought. She blinked twice, a familiar firecracker next to her stirring, then stilling again as Amy shifted. Lauren wasn’t quite close enough for their hair to be mixing on the pillow, something in her cleavage. On closer inspection, it was Lawnslot, something she'd have to tease Ben relentlessly about later. The relatively warm temperature outside didn’t lend itself well to cuddling, especially of the unintentional variety, she should probably get up… But... Just for a second, the stripper let her mind drift, the instant’s pause and reflection cascading through dreams she hadn’t thought of for quite a while, almost tempting her to caress the brawler’s cheek--then her lips spread in a smirk as the hazily remembered events of late the night before came back to her, two figures stumbling into the BASL dorm long after she and Sangue had gone to sleep, someone impacted the bed next to her and she decided she was too tired to care which one of the two it was until the morning.

If it was Ben, there’d have been some prank opportunities that were too good to pass up. Lauren… Well, there were other benefits there. Her smile grew wider, watching the other girl sleep, trying to move ever so slowly out of bed…