8:30 AM.

It was around 8:30 AM every morning that the first of Lorena Negasi's three emergency alarms would kick off, attempting to rouse the foreign student from whatever adrenaline, food, or babe-induced coma she'd been knocked into. Next would come the alarm at 9:45, and then the third and final one at 11. If nothing had woken her up by then, the day was considered wasted, and the next twenty-four hours were spent exercising and intermittent RSPN binges in an attempt to purge the sloth from her body. Back in the continent-hopping days of her second decade alive, this ritual was a fairly common way for Lauren to spend her days.

But clearly, she was getting soft in her old age. This morning, only one alarm was necessary.

Although...

most high give me another hour UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNGHBRUHBRUHBRUHKILLMEBRUH

...she was usually more of a morning person.

where the hell

Her bed had more covers than this. Cap, that fucking driven snow looking...fucker! Of course she was in Ben's bed, who else was ignorant orgasmic feeling of being cocooned by eight to eleven layers of bedding and covers the way he was? And to think they were besties!

"he ain't ma bredda he a bumbaclot" Lauren murmured sleepily to the sleeping white devil beside her. One hand sleepily made its way up to her bra and went to grasp at her phone, fingers shuffling for the blessed 'silent' switch on the top of her phone...

...and grabbing a...

a...

stroke stroke stroke

dildo!

The knuckle on her little finger brushed against a hand-sized grip towards the bottom of the shaft.

weird dildo

That's because it was Lawnslot! She remembered now. She had plucked it straight from the table before the eyes of an awestruck, disbelieving Ben, and stuffed it in her fancy new designer handbag...which had gone...

...

...

"cap"

"Caaaaaaaaaaaap."

Lauren rolled over onto her side, seeking out her phone, or the best friend who had stolen it from her like the sore loser he was. Instead, she felt a source of body heat where there should have been none on Cap's lithe, fuggable physique.

Wait, Cap grew boobs?

She was starting to regain cognitive function...if not quite full sobriety.

Liiiiiight the beacons! What a time to be alive! Light the beacooooooooohitsamy.

Her phone's alarm was still playing.

Was it between Amy's boobs?

Should she ask for it back?

Should she take it?

There was a whole wealth of new numbers in there that would be lost forever if Amy's boobs crushed her phone...

blink

The fuzzy shapes of the Bastille dorm were darkened by sleep.

blink

And then started to clear as Lauren Negasi opened her eyes, beginning her first real weekend off as a student of higher learning.

In bed.

With another girl.

At least partially dressed.

What the hell has happened to me?

"Deezii-ur."

The word was muffled by the pillow still burying the bottom half of Lauren's face.

"Bruh. Where's my phone?"

That wasn't much of a way to greet a teammate, though. Especially a hot one.

"Your tits are way nicer up close."

Most tits were, but still. She had woken up on her very first alarm.

If Amy really liked her, she'd cut her some slack.

Sangue found herself absorbed with the simplicity of Gren's relationships with his friends. As she expected, Shiro was a nice person. But there seemed to be others who weren't exactly abundant with energy, yet that didn't stop them from being friends with him.

It was strange. She had people she knew of now, yet it was still a new experience to learn about how others viewed their friendships with people. And as interesting as it was, it also warmed and calmed her heart from all the things that tended to confuse or concern her needlessly.

It felt great.

"No, it's... not... boring at all," she told Gren as she tried to smile, though her lips only curled up very slightly. It was easy to tell that she tried to loosen her expression, though.

The woman blinked when there appeared to be a serious situation next to them. Believing that staying out of their business was a good choice, she quietly walked behind Gren as she ate the fruit he had given her.

There seemed to be a bad incident for the group of students that came from the ship. One of them was badly injured... and the others were not... too happy.

I hope... things get better for them... she thought as the snake consumed the fruit in her hands yet again.

_{@Lucius Cypher@Nytem4re@Lazo@Guess Who@Awesomoman64}

---

---

Many years ago, a man and a woman sat under the edge of their roof with conflicted minds. They believed in hope in a hopeless time.

The scent of flowers encompassed the Naga household. Its quiet and peaceful essence blended perfectly with the serenity of nature, its only residents sitting outside as they observed the loud waterfalls from a far distance.

The morning sky let its warmth envelop both the house and the man and woman under the roof.

In moments of hopelessness, there was always a glimmer of hope. Hard to find, but easy to accept once it was found. It was such slivers of hope that let the two go on, even while running with their child. For the clan deemed it unacceptable for them to leave alive one of its most dangerous enemies with the direct intention to do so. They showed mercy, and were brought no mercy.

So they fled and resided far away, where nobody can hurt their child without making a painstaking effort to find their home. But their first child remained in the boundaries of those who were determined to end their lives- their stories, which the respective authors did not want to end so quickly.

They had to leave their beloved no matter what. It was for the child's safety.

The beautifully red-haired lady cradled her child, who had yet to open her eyes. The sunset-haired man stared off at the skies, unsure of their future. The mother smiled, her happiness distant, yet existent despite the clear sadness behind her tender expression.

Everyone they knew of was after them. They will raise their arms, and no doubt will they bring harm to their child...

Even if the mother and father faded from the face of Remnant forever.

The man failed to mask the bitterness that fueled his heart. No doubt would a child die on her own if she were left in the wilderness. Any man with low human morality would kill her.

The woman brought the child closer to her embrace, however, knowing the child would not be alone. She looked at the far waterfalls as her keen eyes fell upon the far figure who stood underneath the falls, meditating.

A man lived in the waterfalls, the red-haired lady explained to her husband. A murderer- one of the enemies of the clan, for he endangered their partners with his unpredictable pattern of attacks on such groups. He knew nothing of the clan itself, however; therefore he will not recognize the child's heritage.

The sunset-haired man closed his eyes as he realized who she spoke of. They had met him long ago when they were still accepted as one of the clan's most valuable members. He who brought fear just with his name.

He did not know them- the Naga clan kept its name hidden unlike groups such as the White Fang. But they knew him well.

A killer who was considered an enemy to every society. He who haunted and humiliated people he chose to his own accord. A legend from the darkest depths of Mistral, which had spread itself to even continents outside of it.

Yet, he was a sign of hope for them. Perhaps the fear held to the man, who had little to no knowledge of anything tender, could ward people off the mountains.

He would reside near her, she told her husband as a tear trickled down her porcelain cheek. But if he happened to meet her, then they could only dearly pray that he did not take their only treasure away.

And they prayed.

Prayed that the nightmare known as Apophis could bring upon a miracle for their child from her inevitable doom as they set off to face the clan in a game of hiding.

---

Just outside of the industrial districts of Vale, a lonely temple, worn by the entity known as time, stood. Pieces of its wooden roof had fallen to the ground, though they had all been swept to the side by its only resident. Ropes that had once held various items hung from wooden pillars that had managed to survive unlike the roof. Some of the stone tiles were either missing or shattered, but for the most part, it was safe enough to walk across with bare feet.

A raven remained perched on one of the tall, thick pillars of the broken temple as it tilted its gaze at the one man who resided at the temple.

Sitting in front of a relic with the etch of a snake, a man with a long, messy ponytail remained still with his only eye closed. He let out a harmonic chant, his hands placed together in the form of meditation as he allowed silence to dominate the temple.

The raven tilted its head to the other side as it watched the blood-haired man meditate. A cyan glow steadily emerged underneath the hair that covered his missing left eye.

"أن҉ا ا̷لأ҉ف̀ع̴ى҉ ͜ال̧أك͜ب͡ر.̴ ع̸ن̀دما̸ ̵النه́ر̡ ا̸ل͟أح̵م͡ر͝، ̴و͝ا͜لب͞ق̛ا͝ء م͠ع ̢را͘ئ̡حة҉ لها̕. لمق̴او͞م̢ة̕ ͟ه҉و ̨ف̸ي ال͟قي͢ام بو͞اج͠به̡ ̷ف͜ي حم҉اي̴ة̡ ث̡ع̶با̛ن͞ ا̛ل͝شبا̸ب̧.͞ "

The trees outside of the temple rustled as the wind began to howl.

"حم͘امات تفا̀ؤ́ل̴ا͟ ̸من҉ ͏م͢سار̛ ͜يسا̵ر̡ي تشو̧ي̨ه̢ ͢الما͘ض͝ي، ̀ولك̸ن͜ ال͘م͏اضي̡ ̡فق͘ط͝. ̀ا͡لمو͏ت̡ ͘هو ͏أب͜دا ͢ا͡لغرض ̴الو͞حيد ̴ا͜لذ͡ي ͞يج̵ب͘ أ͡ن ̀ت̕ق̴د͘م̕ه، ̴ح̴تى ̶إ̵ذ̛ا م̵ا͡ زل̕ت͢ على͜ ا͝ن̴تش͏ار̕ه̸.̢"

The glow grew brighter as the air around the man seemingly became darker on its own.

"ل̧ي̴س͠ ͝ا̢̀͝ل͟م̢ق͘͝ص̢ود̛͜ ̛͡ا͟͡͏لذ҉ن͢وب̀͜͝ ҉͏̢ا̸̕لت̧̛͝ي͡ ̸ي̕͏جب̸̡ ̡͢غس͜له͠ا.͜͏ ̸م͜ا̢͡҉ ͠أ͡ري̧د̷ ل̕͠͞ه͝ا̸͘͟ ̵أن͘ ̶͞ت҉̕͟ب̡͝͏ق̵͝ى ل͢҉͠ح̢҉͝ك̡͞͞م҉̸ة̵̛،̵ ͜و̨́است̧̛͡خ̨د͟͡ا҉̨م͘ها͞ ͘҉ل̀͢ف̢́تح̷͘ ͟͝ف̷͏̧ر̴̴ص̢̕͡ ͢و̵͘ا̶ح̕͟د̕͢ ا̴̧͠لذ̨̢ي̴́ ̴͏ج̶عل͝ ا̷͢ل̴̨ذ̷͢ب̛́ح ̸̢لم͞ ت͘͢ع̛د̶ ͠م̧͟ن̴̡͢ا̴̢س̨̀ب͞͏ة̴͝ ͠ل̡̛ي̕.͢͠ "

The scent of controlled bloodlust spiraled out of control, causing the raven to flee in fear.

"ع̛̮̗̪͕͠ͅن̵͇̦̪̪̙̲̻͟͟ͅد̴̭̗͔̬͎͖̭̀͟م̸̖̝̤͝ا̵̛̻͉͎̥ ͔̼̟̟͇͉͠͞͞ت͏̞̮̠͝س͈̣̺͔̞̠̞͞و̣̠̦̬̳̼̤د̛͓͖̥̮ ̵̻̫ͅا̵̣̮̱͈͇͉̣͖́ل̡̢̪̞̳͇̟̙̺͢ح̸̷͍ي̼͔̤͍̭͉̀͝ا̨̮̭ة̸̼̝̠̝̯͟͟،̡̱͓̜̗̤̳́̀ͅ ̴̧̗͕̮̝و̩̞̱̭أ̗͚͎͚̤̗̫̞ͅن̶̼̝ا̶̘̞̟ ̸̦̠͈ͅي̘̯̥̯̀ج̴̼̯͠ب̨̬̦͚͔͎̲̰͎͢ ͉̹͝أ̢̝̟͔ن͚̘̣̙ ͔͚̟̀͟ت͡͡͏̱ب̩̩̀̕ق̸̴̦̱̙̦͍̺͚̻̥ى̨̡̣̯̦̮͎̩͎ ̜̼̲̹͠͝ف̶̘̹͈̤ي̷̶̤̞ ̝̹̤͈̣͖̟̠͈س̢͚͔͞ل̛̠͙̞̟͈̞̰͜ا̴̬م̢̡͙̳̤̱̘.̸̢͉̬͚̤ ̸̢̺و̛̮͇͎̣ل̦̩̰͓͡ك͈͈͓͖͎̝̲̕ن̨̫͖̬ ̣̩̟̣͍̠͠ͅع̦͓͇̳̤̩̞͘͜͢ن̸̪͉͢͝د͏̬̯̫́م̸̸̹̟̘̝ا̵̧̦͇͍̫́ ̝̹͕̯̺ي͏̶̳ف̱͇͚̻̱̀ت͉̤͢ح̸̧̘͙̙̭̙͇̟ ͕͠ا̠̗̰͍͟͟ل͇͈̠͜͠م͢͏̦̥̗و̛̖̬̗͘ت͠͞͏̺̳̜̝͕̯̖͈ ̷̧̩͈̫͈͇̟ا͏͏̳ل̙̜̳̮̕͝س̶̡̳̜͓͚̪ت̛̦̀̀ا̛̤̬͈ئ̢̥͙̥̤̮͇̹͉͟ر̷̨̝͕ ̶̼͉͚͉̖̻̳͓͞ل̺̦̰͚̜͙͕̪̕ه̵̢͉̫̬̜̺͚͎ا̰̣̜̥́͜،̹͓̭̮̕̕ ̵̜̮͉͚̘̰̭̲̞و̠͉̱̫̥͟͞ͅس̢̨̛̝̟͇̥و̶͈͖̺͍̗̪͞ف̶̳̱̪̘͉̙ ̶̪̼̭̥͜ي̡͓̩̼͉̰̪͚̪ب̨̬̹̹͙ق̺͉̪̬͠ى̷̼̙͚̠̠ ̵͏͓̮͖̙̺̻͙̜̫ف̴̖͉͢ي̺̲͖̥̤̝͓̮ ̺̝͢ن̣͈̭͖̥̻̀͜ͅو̷̧̝͉̰̞̠̬͇̪ع̞̻̟̖̀͝ ̸̗̠̼̞͚̻͉͔͘م̶͏̭̣̪͚̲̳̯̹̀ن͏͔͜ ̶̛̫͕̹̻͈̪ا̪̮̥̤̲͍̥͘ل̻͇̲̖͎͉̤̲͢س͈̖̞̺̭̗̺ل̨̺̙͖̳͝ا̴̢͖͕͡م̙̹̟͚̞̲ ͏͓أ̴̟̯͍̥͎̯̞͜ك̠̟̰͔͟ث͔͈̪̻̯̰̻ر̡̲͢͞ ̶̱̹̘͚ب̱̯̹̟̗͢ك̢̱̖̭͚ث̵̛̞̖͔̩̞͠ي̴͖̜̝͙̝̬̳̗̥ر̶̵̗̠̤͕͎̩̦͉ ̛̺̻̝̺̀م͟҉̼͕خ̮͚̩̕ͅي̵͓̖ف̯̯ة̴̣͓̼̣̯̜̮ ̷̜̺̫͔͖͜م̹̙͕̣͕̫̣̖ن͞҉̬ ̵̘͈̗ا̵̖̘͈͓̤̀ل̨̗̟̟̞̼͜ͅم̡͙͖̙̤و̵̭̮̩̰͈̳ت̥͖͈̻.̼̟̙͇̘̹̕ "

And...

...the man did not break the quietness of the temple any further.

".͠.҉.͟ه̴ذا̶ ه͜و͘ ̧طريق҉ ͞أب͘و̨في͡س͢،͠ ̀مرة̀ وا̶ح͞دة̛ في ̢ر́ش ͡من̧ الفو̀ض͠ى.͡"

Soon, the chanting quieted down as the glow faded, and the world seemed to brighten once more.

Apophis opened his eyes, looking up to the skies as he squinted at the sun above him.

"...Whoever turns on the lights in this world needs to be fired," he growled as he stood up.

Without any other witty remark to make to amuse himself with, he decided to start heading off to the commercial districts of Vale. It would take some time if he walked to there at the pace of a normal person, and he had no qualms with that.

---

Sitting in public transportation wasn’t Apophis’ kind of thing. Whenever he had the choice to pick vehicles or walking on foot, he always chose the latter. Over twenty years of hunting people had gotten to his head quick, so simply watching people chatter and go about their own things came off to be extremely uncomfortable for him. That was especially the case in buses and the like.

It had been years since he quit his old “job,” though. Now he was a nominee for one of the world’s “richest hobos” simply because of all the money he took from the efforts he made in the past years. There was no actual need for him to use money aside from buying random gifts for the child that made him quit in the first place. He could eat grass and call it salad for all he cared.

So what was the child to him if she was enough to make him stop manhunting?

To put it simply, he hated her. It was impossible for him to just let her wander about without watching her get into situations that could get herself killed.

That was a given, though- she somehow survived in the wild on her own. There was no way she’d know anything that could put her in danger within society’s deceptively non-existent “safe bubble.” Maybe she was a lucky idiot to have lived for so long.

She was weaker than him, so he had nothing to learn from her in the whole “fighting” field. She was even less intelligible than him on so many things, both educational and practical.

So why the hell was he even catering his life’s standards to match hers?

Wait. Did I ever have “standards” of any sort in the first place? Apophis wondered as he walked down a dirt path on his own. A large duffle bag rested on his shoulder, and a sleek black kukri he brought from a little storage room he made under the temple was wrapped around his back in a crudely made sleeve of bandages.

He really didn’t know why, but something about Sangue sparked something human within him. As someone who raised himself to ignore such things, maybe it took him by surprise. Maybe in an alternate universe, he just killed the little shit when he had the chance before she warped his mind.

…Or maybe not.

Still, he commended her for doing what literally everyone else failed at doing. Convincing him at something.

He also commended her for making him do a bunch of weird shit that he considered to be more embarrassing than hunting people.

Taking out a letter he received at the front doors of his temple on an uneventful day, his eyes twitched at the piece of paper.

He remembered a conversation he had with the bartender at his favorite bar…

---

”Family Day?” Apophis muttered, raising an eyebrow as his usual smile contorted into that of a confused frown. “Mark, the fuck you on about? Do I look like a family man in ANY fucking way?”

“Well, y’know,” the bartender said as he cleaned one of the glasses nearby him. “Beacon is gonna have some sort of ‘Parent’s Day’ or ‘Family Day’ or whatever it was. Thing is, isn’t this your chance to see Sangue in her new school?”

“…Chance??” Apophis muttered as he steadily began to laugh, only to howl in laughter as he stomped his foot repeatedly against the wooden floor. “’Sangue in her new school?’ What do I look like, her dad?”

“Ye.”

”I’ll fucking kill you if you ‘Ye’ my tired ass one more time, you Loch Ness shithole.”

Setting the glass aside, Mark raised his hands in mock fear as he insisted, “To be fair, saying ‘Your adopted child in an academy designated towards raising Hunters and Huntresses’ makes me sound sappy. Ain’t that right?”

“…I get your point but I’m still going to fucking kill you.”

Sighing, Mark shook his head as Apophis grumpily drank out of a bottle. “I won’t say ‘Don’t be such a child’ because I know you’re not used to that stuff, but you really should think of how much she’d like to see you.”

The ex-manhunter downed the entire bottle in one gulp as he slammed it against the counter. Unfortunately, he slammed it a bit too hard and shattered the bottle itself under his clenched grip.

“…Dammit, I just cleaned that spot,” Mark mumbled with a pout.

“Mark, if you’re thinking that it’d be logical for me to meet up with the little shit, what’d you think I do if I met her friends?”

“Oh yeah! She made friends, right?” The bartender brightened up as he clicked his tongue. “All the more of a reason to go there. You were worried about what kinds of friends she made, anyway.”

The redhead killer of a man growled, “’Worried’ is an overstatement you might wanna avoid saying. And… yeah, I’m interested in seeing what they’re like, but not THAT interested.”

“You said you’d kill them if they bullied her.”

“…”

“…”

“…I, uh… I did?”

“Yeah. Right in front of my dad, too.”

“Goddammit, why was your dad even in your bar?! Did he stick his dick in something that’s not your mom?”

The bartender merely raised an eyebrow, remembering how his father just wanted to see how his son was doing. His attention went back to the ex-manhunter when Apophis muttered something quietly.

“…So what about the whole 'visit' thing I talked about?” Mark asked.

“…I’ll pay her a FUCKING VISIT, OKAY?!” Apophis screamed in anger as he humorously slammed the broken neck of the bottle he just smashed over and over against the counter, not realizing that some of its shards were sinking into his hand. “But YOU’RE going to make the arrangements much more comfortable, you understand?”

At the time, Apophis did not believe that the bartender would actually help him.

---

…And now, it’s come full circle to bite him in the ass.

“Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhh…”

The only attire he had was an extremely dirty white coat that had become grey, dusty pants, and boots that he had originally used to kick people. Top that off with his black kukri and duffle bag, and you got yourself a mentally challenged hobo who knew how to kill people.

He could already see it. Him arriving in Beacon in that shitty attire as Sangue walked up to him with her shitty little smile. And she’d call him fucking “Apep” in front of everyone and make him sound like he’s some kind of dumbass pet who knew how to swing around a Gurkha knife.

The motherfucker.

Motherfucking Sangue with her hankdy dankdy lucky-go-shitty innocence was going to kill him of embarrassment of all things.

“I definitely need some kind of make-over,” he admitted to himself in the most regretful way possible. “Fuck, if Sangue’s teammates turn out to be rich snobs flaunting off their fashion, I’m gonna at least throw some cow shit at them to make myself look better. …Yeah, a bucket of cow shit sounds nice. I’ll grab that before I go to the school full of little shits without telling Mark about it. I'll prepare today and throw shit tomorrow.”

He figured that his plan was foolproof. But first, he needed to go to the bar and see if there were any simple clothes he could buy. Carrying a small portion of the money he had accumulated, he wondered if a million Lien was enough to buy a hoodie. Hopefully it was.

⚙️ Ferris Grey Solidor
Beacon, Dormitories ⚙️

^{Sunday, 7:30 a.m.}

Fire. Fire is what came next. Rolling, Crimson and Orange Flames. He remembered colors. White Clouds, Yellow Sun, and Blue Sky. A Red Smile. Clear Laugher and a Grey Promise. Then there were Plans for the Future.

He remembered Joy.

Then Unease. Shouts. Panic. Fear. Weightlessness. And finally...an explosion that shook the world.

After that, came the Fire. Fire that erased all that remained.

Ferris awoke gradually. His heart rate increased, his breathing quickened and deepened, his consciousness stirred from it's previously dormant state, and he slowly opened his eyes.

It was dark.

Ferris sluggishly rolled over, grabbed his Scroll, and turned it on. He winced slightly as the bright, cheerful light pierced his eyes. He checked the time. 7:30. Of course. He wanted to roll over and drift back off to dreamland, but he forced himself out from under his covers to sit up on the bed. He had the strange feeling that he had been dreaming; however, he couldn't remember any of the details.

Using the light from his Scroll, he navigated to the bathroom, taking extra care not to disturb his teammates. Once there, he shut the door and flipped on the light. It was pretty basic. A shower, a toilet, a sink and a mirror. He gazed into the mirror for a moment and his reflection blearily stared back. The mirror revealed a fine, black coating of stubble on his face and chin. Ferris, still a little drousy, toyed with the idea of growing a beard, or at least a gotee for a moment before dismissing the idea. He yawned as he pulled out his shaving kit, and lathered up. He then pulled out a straight razor, grasping it in his right hand, with his left tucked behind his back, and with smooth practiced motions, he drew it across his face.

His father had considered it a mark of manhood and pride to use an old-fashioned razor to shave, disdaining "safe" electric razors that most people used. "If you can't wield a blade with enough skill to not cut your face," He would always say. "then you have no business with one on the battlefield." He would then follow up with a grin and say "Of course, if you cut yourself, chances are you will be more careful next time, eh?"

Ferris cut himself.

He sighed.

It was just a small nick that his Aura healed almost instantly, but it still stung quite a bit. On the bight side, he was fully alert now.

He finished up quickly, going though the motions, rinsing and drying his face. He took a brush to his hair and beat out a cowlick that had formed. He left the bathroom for a moment to grab his uniform to change. His teammates were still sound asleep by the time he was finished changing. He shook his head at them. I'll let them sleep. It is the weekend, after all. No sane person should be up this early. He grinned at himself. What does that make me, I wonder? Steathily, he turned out the light and slipped out the dormitory door into the hallway.

Breakfast was his goal, and nothing was going to stand him and his morning cup of Coffee. Just the thought made him tirsty. Consulting his map on his scroll, he made his way to the mess hall (cafeteria, whatever). Even this early, he passed a few students and teachers on the way there. He didn't stop to chat though. Thoughts of a warm, tasty, cup of joe spurred him onward. He arrived just as the sun was peeking over the horizon, and already there were a few people there, chatting and eating. He drew a few curious glances as he got his food, for one, he was wearing his white coat over his uniform he was also over six foot tall, towing over most people there, but probably the real reason he was drawing attention, was his claw-like left hand. Prosthetics were not uncommon, particularly among the upperclassmen, as they did fight dangerous creatures on a regular basis, but his Gauntlet looked so out of the ordinary that it made people stare.

He didn't mind the looks.

He glanced around, a cocky grin on his face, meeting the eyes of the people staring one by one. If it was a guy, he simply grinned, if it was a girl, he would give her a wink. Gradually, interest subsided, and the people went back to the meals and conversations. By that time, he had already gotten his food and coffee and sat down at an empty table. He lingered over the scrumptious eggs and bacon, and eagerly tucked into the pancakes. But the highlight of his morning, as it always was, was the coffee. He sighed in appreciation after each sip. Beacon coffee was some of the best he had ever had, he suspected that was because a certain teacher had a great affinity for the stuff. Which Ferris understand completely.

After his third cup, he checked the time. 8:56. Well, what now? I really don't have much to do. I could go back to the dorms to meet with my team...but by the looks of things, they are still asleep. Perhaps I'll explore the campus. It is so large, I still haven't seen the entire area. He had heard that they had a library, and he was curious to see what it contained. He dropped off his dishes and got a fourth cup of coffee on his way out to ward off the slight chill that was in the air. He decided not to rely on the map on his Scroll to get around, he wanted to familiarize himself with the layout in person.

Sometime later, Ferris ended up at the Airdocks. "Nope, definitely not the Library." He said to himself. "Alright, alright. I will admit it. I'm lost." He sighed. "Might as well take a look around while I am here." Airships and people were coming and going in busy manner. Cargo was being unloaded here, Hunters and Huntresses were being loaded up there, people loitering all around. What stuck Ferrin the most was the noise. Airships were taking off and landing almost constantly, creating a loud ongoing roar. People had to talk loudly just to be heard, while others shouted orders over the din. Compared to the quiet atmosphere of the dorms, it was quite a jarring contrast. Ferris himself mostly kept quiet and wandered, hands in his pockets, careful to stay out of the way. He idly tried to guess the make and model of each new airship, although he had no way of knowing for sure, he was probably wrong most of the time.

He was just leaving when he came face-to-face with Ozpin himself, looking hurried, and some people who's clothing and gear denoted them as Beacon employees and nurses. Ferris immediately realized he was in their way, and he lept to the side. They sped past him, and out of a morbid curiosity, he followed. They unloaded a heavily wounded Hunter, and were gone as fast, if not faster, then they arrived. Ferris caught a glimps of the Hunter as they left, and he winced in sympathy at his injuries.

Pain was something he was quite familiar with.

He silently wished the poor boy a speedy recovery as he watched them leave, presumably taking him to the infirmary. Ozpin remained, though, and Ferris hung around apprehensively to find out what could put this nigh-legendary figure on edge.

A Hunter and Huntress that just arrived approached and spoke to Ozpin. Ferris moved closer, to hear what was said. He onky caught the end of it, but he understood the gist. A misson went wrong, a huntress died, and the hunter that just left was wounded badly, and to this hunter's eyes, responsible.

Ferris couldn't believe that this person's teammate could throw him under the bus like that, straight to the headmaster too. He was still curious, so he stayed to find out what was going on.

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

(OOC: Not sure if the mentions are necessary, more or less just announcing Ferris's presence. If this was the show, he would be just another shadow figure in the background. XD)

It was hard to relax on the flight back to Beacon. Thought they had ultimately succeeded in their objective, it had come at a high cost. Trad spent most of the trip checking his equipment for dents, scratches, and other damages that would need repairing, anything to get his mind off the last few days.

When they first finally landed at Beacon they were greeted by staff and students alike all in a state of alarm at the condition of the team. A few notable faces included Gren and Professor Ozpin both asking about Delta’s fate, as well as his former teammate Sangue shyly hidden behind Gren.

Grane stepped forward and gave the report making sure to include everything negative he could about Robert. Trad wanted to be respectful, especially on the subject of Grane's fallen friend, but he couldn't stay silent while all the blame was thrown upon Robert.

After the report was finished Trad stepped forward to give his own account, “I mean no offense to my teammate, but that is not entirely true. Though our drop off had been compromised it was us who attacked first, and we had plenty of time to set up beforehand. While Robert was careless in his attack plan, Delta himself made no move to prepare himself in anyway despite knowing his style was not suited for close combat. Not to mention neither of us did anything to defend him on our own. The blame for Delta’s death is on all our heads, not just Robert.”

“That being said… The rest is true. Through most of the mission Robert acted alone and failed to take initiative when a decision needed to be made.” While it felt hardly the time to be talking about removing a member, Trad figured he'd give his two cents while the subject was up. “I think with how much the original team has changed since Robert was appointed leader, it might be wise to reevaluate this team's structure. After we've all rested and recovered of course.”

@Lazo@Guess Who@Nytem4re@Lugubrious@Lucius Cypher@Crimson Raven@NarayanK

A face cold and rigid as ice regarded Grane while he spoke of what had transpired. Ozpin's expression obscured any emotions he might be feeling in regard to the news. Did Beacon's headmaster feel anger, sorrow, or shame? What did denial of the most essential act of empathy say about his character? He listened with mask of utmost seriousness etched into his features. It did not falter when Grane began his critique of RGTS's leader, his pent-up mournful frustration eking through his own attempts at suppression. Only when Grane pointed out the stranger did Ozpin move, and he analyzed Sand in an instant with his emerald eyes. She introduced herself properly, citing her scheduled transfer to Beacon the next week, and the headmaster gave a slow nod in recognition and acknowledgment. After that, he glanced over his shoulder at Ferris, an unfamiliar individual standing a bit too close to a scene that was none of his business.

Air streamed into Ozpin's lungs as he took a deep breath, ready to speak, only for Trad to pipe up and offer his two cents as well. The headmaster's eyes narrowed as the young man corrected a few of the details of the report delivered by Grane. Conflicting accounts would have to be settled speedily and critically—sorting out what was truth and what was bias, based on nature or on the unstable dynamic of a radically-shifted team, would be necessary before any major decision was made.

When the new report was finished, Ozpin's time came to rethink his reply, and after a moment of silent consideration he clasped his hands behind his back to speak. “I am very troubled that this travesty has come to pass. It is an occurrence that will tarnish the image of Beacon and its people for generations, and far worse, it has cost us a precious life that can never be replaced. I shall work on a report to the government of Vale immediately regarding the area to which your team was dispatched; any place that harbors enough Grimm to force three hunters-in-training to abandon a fallen teammate is worthy of serious consideration. Based on your shared testimony, I will suspend Mr. Fallson's position as team leader, with a possibility of expulsion from the school. However, in the coming days I will also meet with each of you in order to determine exactly what happened and the scope of every person's responsibility. And, as well, to determine who might succeed Mr. Fallson as elader. In the mean time, please recuperate.”

Next, he faced Sand, addressing her specifically. “My sincerest apologies that such a terrible thing should cloud your arrival to Beacon, which should have been an occasion for great joy. My staff will get you enrolled forthwith. At this moment, it seems prudent to have you remain with this team, with which you are proved to have at least some compatibility. If you have any objections to this, let us know.”

With that, he span about to fix his gaze on Ferris. “May I assist you, Mr. Solidor?”

Krysanthe let out a pleased grin at their success, the Grim no match for their combined assault. Able's childish compliment only cemented the feeling. Still his comment at teamwork reminded Krysanthe of her own team. They hadn't really done much teamwork had they? The mission's they'd gone on they'd really just split up to go do stuff on their own. Able further commented on how close their team seemed, which rather surprised Krysanthe as she didn't feel the same. Skyra seemed to have issues she didn't like talking about and apparently liked alcohol, the sort of combination usually seen in washed out men in their late 30's. Sepia was nice enough and seemed to be a natural sense of empathy but she hadn't really gotten to know any of them. Really she knew next to nothing about her teammates.

Krysthane let out a sigh, "Wish I could say I felt the same. We haven't gotten to know each other as well as I wish we would. Plus it looks like... well it looks like Yue is our new teammate now." Krysanthe scuffed the ground and shook her head, "Maybe this parent's day thing will be a chance to get to know each other more." She perked up suddenly and said with a smile, "Not to be a downer though, we aren't at each other's throats and things are sure to get better as the year foes on." She didn't want to ruin the mood or anything, she'd been enjoying herself, even with the random Grim attack. Maybe even, especially with the random Grim attack?

Andromeda Kailani

Golden streaks of sunlight traced the contours of the room, spilling through the half-curtained window and stretching out against the far wall. Situated in the space in between was one of the four beds within the room, which held a certain student who was currently regretting her choice to hastily claim the spot closest to the window as her own. Namely because of the fact that despite her best efforts to create her personal Fortress of Solitude out of the most abundant building material at the moment, blankets and pillows, the sun was still intruding on her domain. There was no escape, the whole section of the room was illuminated.

Andromeda let out a long breath of air which pushed out against her flimsy blanket shield which was making a valiant stand against the unending onslaught on her eyes. One more annoyed huff later, she pulled up the side of the blanket to peer out with bleary eyes towards neighboring bastions, she considered co-opting their blankets for her own use. She was certain that they wouldn't need them, and her situation was dire, so much so that it might call for the extreme eventuality of having to move from her current comfy spot. The end would justify the means.

Reluctantly, Andromeda rolled over in her bed, pulling the protective blankets with her as she went, to get her Scroll within arm's reach. She was immedaitely greeted by her own frowning, grumpy reflection to whom she flared her nose and glared at, before the screen flickered to life. 8:44.

Way too early normally, way too early for a weekend. Dismayed, she let her arm drop over to the side, swinging the Scroll back and forth between her fingers. Unfortunately, there was little chance of being able to fall back asleep, she was in awake and do stuff mode, which would last for at least sixteen more hours. The reluctant addition to the land of the living gave one final huff, before maneuvering her legs off of the bed without actually siting up, pulling herself to a passable approximation of "standing". Making her way to the bathroom, blanket cocoon and all, she made sure not to disturb those around.

A few minutes later, which was mostly comprised of applying cold water directly to her face, Andromeda had located a wearable t-shirt and jeans, and found herself staring at the pile of blankets she had deposited back on her bed, before simply deciding to throw her uniform's jacket over her shoulders as a workable substitute. Prepared for the worst the world could throw at her, she tiptoed towards the door and ventured out with a clear mission in mind: coooffeeeee noooow.

A few minutes of wandering hindered her progress somewhat, as she slowly pieced together where exactly the mess was located, though she eventually arrived at her destination. It took only a few short minutes, and a couple mumbled "g'mornin's" for her to secure the prize and find an empty table.

Andromeda braced her elbows against the cool surface of the table and rested her head in her hands, blankly staring at the stuff of life she had set down, trying to will its contents into her through sheer force of not wanting to move alone. Eventually she gave in, and began the task of getting the much needed caffeine into her system.

gonna need like, ten more of those

Becoming more and more conscious, Andromeda slid her Scroll onto the table, and began flicking through the list of contacts she had available, coming to her teammate's entries. There was a moment when she considered calling them... but that lasted about as long as it took for her to figure that they could call her if they needed to; she was busy getting more coffee.

Gren watched from a distance at the scene unfolding. Grane tell Ozpin about Delta's death and Robert's incompetence, Trad defending their team leader, Sand's introduction, and Ozpin's declaration. Gren wasn't sure how to feel about it. In their line of work death wasn't something that would surprise Gren. It's not as if they were just picking up trash on the side of the road; hunting grimm was a life-or-death thing, and sometimes it's not the grimm who die. Yet at the same time, the idea that Delta died due to Robert's incompetence reminded Gren of his own thoughts about Sapphire and her leadership thus far. Though Gren was more worried that she was going to get herself killed rather than any of the others, though she may end up doing in inadvertently when he, Shiro, or Abel have to save her from a short- sighted mishap.

What worried Gren a bit more was Grane himself. Their history from before gave Gren some insight to his old friend, even if they haven't seen each other for some time. The both hated dealing with corrupted or incompetent leaders, but where Gren tends to use subtly and time to change things in his favor, hiding his true feelings with snide remarks and passive aggressive behavior, Grane was much more straightforward and honest. Bias perhaps, but honest enough. Grane wouldn't make up something to defame Robert and is simply telling Ozpin how it is through his own eyes. It was harsh, but something like the death of a team member wasn't something you just brush off. A sacrifice must have purpose, otherwise it's just a tragedy.

More to the point, Gren worried about what would happen to their team. Obviously Robert wasn't suited to be in a leadership position, but Gren worried what would happen if Robert was expelled for his actions or lack-thereof. Beacon was harsh but fair after all. They accept all but hold everyone to an equally high standard. Gren remembered during his initiation that Ozpin said something to the effect that Beacon wasn't a place of learning, as everyone there should already have all the skills they need to be capable hunters. Rather, Beacon would serve as the test to see who was truly prepared both mentally and physically for the tasks a hunter is responsible for. The lose of Delta, Grane's frustration, and Robert's current state told much about how well they passed their test.

Soon the team was escorted away from the air docks and Gren just watched them. He would have to find Grane later and ask for details, perhaps over a drink. For now though, the scene had passed and it was just Gren and Sangue again. Looking towards her Gren's once pleasant and smiling face looked sadden and concerned. "Oh. Sorry Sangue, I didn't mean to... Forget about you. That was.... I guess it's just something I have to get used too. I can't say I know Delta very well, but I met him before he left for his mission. He's kinda like Shiro. It... Anyways! I shouldn't dwell on it. Shiro sure is taking his sweet time though." Gren was going to save this for later, but if they were going to be waiting then they could at least have a snack. Gren wanted to save the Suikans for later, but he had plenty of other stuff to eat. Walking a bit away from the air docks, Gren set down his things and took out a portable charcoal grill. He even had a small bag of charcoal, though his was an ashy white instead of a dark black that one may usually associate with charcoal.

"I'm sure once I start cooking, Shiro would come running. Just need to get a spark going and we'll be in business." Setting up the grill and charcoal was easy enough; all Gren needed was a flat, solid surface to put the grill one, poured a few chunks of coal and tinder, and give it some heat. The source of his heat, in a suitable orky fashion, involved taking The God Eater off of Gren's back and firing a steady stream into the sky so that the barrel quickly grew red hot. Then he stuck the red hot barrels into the tinder to heat up the fire starter until a flame was produced. Originally he did a similar trick to cook steak on the barrels of his weapon, but he didn't want oil in the mechanisms. Once a steady and slow heat was radiating from the white charcoal, Gren took out some kebab skewers. Each one had his favorite stuff on it: Porkbelly, cubed steaks, truffles, potatoes, mushrooms, onions, baby bell peppers stuffed with ground chicken, little sausages wrapped in bacon, and finally ending with a quail egg. How Gren managed to grill quail eggs on a skewer was indeed a testament to his grilling skills.

Gren busied himself with cooking, occasionally taking a drink of water as he cooked, partly in the hopes of attracting Shiro but mostly to distract himself from the troubles Grane and his team had. Gren wanted to go to his old friend and find out what happened, get involved, help out however he could. But this wasn't something he was suppose to be part of. Yes, Grane is Gren's friend, but this was about Grane's team and Robert's leadership. Unless Grane intends to make Gren part of his team, Gren needed to stay out of it. Or at least that's what he keeps telling himself. In the back of his mind Gren had already started forming plans to deal with Robert, either to make him a better leader, a better hunter, or no longer a problem. For Robert's sake, he had best hope that Gren it doesn't come to the third part. Because then Gren would have to kill him.

@NarayanK@harinezumikouken

Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep! Charon's alarm set on his scroll buzzed obtrusively, vibrating the whole nightstand and making even more of a racket than it already was. The screen on the scroll strobed 8:45, and the alarm was titled: Breakfast (Weekend).

Mrrruurrghhh? Charon stirred in his comfy bed, disturbed by the buzzing gremlin on his nightstand. He turned over slowly, and with tired eyes still shut, hit the snooze button on his scroll. Mmmmmm...bettauu... And without another movement from the young man, he was again sound asleep. At least, not for another five minutes.

By the 3rd time he unconsciously hit the snooze button, he has been buzzed enough times for his brain to leave the murky waters of warm, wondrous sleep and into the ugly state of being both half dead and half alive. Guhhh... What time is it? He lifted his head out from under the covers and grabbed his scroll to turn off the annoying alarm. Hmph, it's 9:00am. I wonder what's for breakfast? He yawned and lifted the covers up so he could swing his legs out onto the freezing cold floor.

He yawned again, rubbing his eyes and scanned the room. The sunlight that pierced into the room was intense, and he had to squint while his eyes adjusted into focus. He noticed that all his team members where already gone, with a mess of blankets on Andromeda's bed "fortress", Ferris's bed was neat and tidy, like he had been up and gone for a while. Charon had a funny feeling growing inside of him, Huh, usually Ferris gets up before me, but Andromeda?

Grrooaaawwwlluuhh

And there was that terrible feeling, and along with it a realization that made him stop all thoughts of his morning routine. He glanced back at his scroll and read the time: it was now 9:04, around the time when the breakfast rush usually sets in at the mess hall. His mind slowly processed all of the information, and when it hit him his eyes grew wide in shock, realizing something very important about today: It's pancake day... His mouth watered at the thought delicious pancakes, stacked 3 or 4 high with melted butted and warm maple syrup with sides of scrambled eggs with peppers and maple sausage links.

Groooowwwwwwlllleeeeee...

Charon looked back at his scroll once again: it was 9:09.

Crap.

Panic set Charon into motion, and he practically leaped off his bed and into the bathroom to quickly use the toilet and to frantically brush his teeth. He hurried on out, then ran back in, forgetting to rinse his mouth out and flush the toilet. He ran back over to his nightstand to check his scroll: it was 9:13. His stomach growled in impatience, and in a blink of an eye, he swapped out of his night attire into the school uniform that was now wrinkled. He grabbed his shoes, tying them on one at a time while hopping forward to the door with the other foot.

Before his hand grabbed the door handle, he almost forgot about his hair, which from what he could tell, was a mess. He weighed the idea of either risking losing a spot in line for his rather unkempt and wild bed head. His amber eyes fixated on his favorite purple hat, lying on his nightstand. Hat? Or no hat? His anxious body held still for a moment, but he decided that personal appearance was better that the idea of everyone seeing his hair practically hang out like some wild and twisted grey monster on his head. He leapt for his hat and planted it on over his bedhead, ran back to the door, and slammed it shut in less than a few seconds.

Sangue's attention towards the fruit and Gren made her miss out on the details of what had happened to the team that recently arrived, but she presumed that they were not in a pleasant mood to begin with. From the unfortunately injured man to the teammates who questioned leadership and the likes, something bad enough to express such serious thoughts let the snake know that they lost something- no, someone valuable to them.

The thought of losing someone in her own team made her freeze deathly still before she steadily brought herself to relax.

As the headmaster turned his attention to a "Mr. Solidor," Sangue stared at the boy for a few moments.

"Mr. Solidor," a dark-haired man with a very clean-looking fashion sense compared to herself. His bright white clothes caught her eyes easily as she stared at them for a while.

She would remember him as "Mr. Solidor" if she met him again. She'd definitely try to. It sounded like something she would not mess up in... but then again, she had gotten the name "Luke" wrong before. The woman knew she had to be careful.

A stream of fire caught Sangue's attention as she watched Gren heat up his weapon before... setting up a grill.

Her eyes became fixated on the food he brought out.

Time... ticked.

The mushrooms, and the meat... The sausages, and the meat...

Although Sangue's favorite food was not related to meat that much, she felt her stomach rumble like an earthquake at the enticing sight of food. She stared at the grill as if it were some sort of soda dispenser constantly spilling out sodas on its own. If there was one bad side to her weapons that had become almost a part of her fighting style, it was that she could not use them as cooking utensils as well as Gren's tools.

Maybe one day, finding a way to make her sword heat up would let her cook food like him. The comical thought of Sangue raising her sword to the skies as a bunch of fire burst out of it for no reason filled her with hope to see something like that in the future.

In the meantime, the food itself had her full attention. It didn't help that she hadn't eaten anything aside from the fruits Gren had given her.

_{@Lucius Cypher}

---

Ignoring the frightened stares he received from the people around him, Apophis walked down the streets of Vale as a particular bar caught his attention. Without an ounce of respect to his "friend's" workplace, the man kicked the door open, startling everyone in the bar.

And by everyone, he meant the bartender and some random fuckboy who always visited the goddamn bar in the morning and afternoon.

"MARK!" Apophis roared as he walked over to the counter, glaring into the face of a smiling bartender. His sharp teeth grinding against each other, the ex-manhunter raised a fist...

...before sitting down and slamming the counter, shaking the entire thing.

"...I guess this is my cue to leave?" The customer next to Apophis asked as if he had already seen the same thing happen before.

"Ye."

Paying as quickly as possible, the customer fled silently, leaving only Mark and Apophis facing each other- the same way they always did. The blond stood behind the counter, and the Worst Adoptive Guardian of the Century sat while snatching a bottle given to him.

"I need your help with something," Apophis grumbled. "And if it doesn't work out, I'm going to kill you by the time we're done."

"Well, uh..."

Looking around, Mark raised an eyebrow as he asked, "How on Remnant can I, a regular bartender, help you, anyway?"

Apophis knew just what to say to make an idiot like Mark understand him.

"Give me some fucking clothes."

"..."

"Don't give me that dumbass disappointed look."

Fire. There was fire everywhere. Everything in the room had been set ablaze. Where was he? It all seemed so familiar, as if he'd been here before but long ago. Despite the intense inferno around him, Robert was not afraid. In fact, everything felt as cold as ice. Walking over to a TV set, the boy leaned down to pick up a small toy truck that was sitting in front of it. Where had he seen this before?

"Where were you, Robert? We were a family. Why weren't you with us?" a voice asked.

Startled, Robert turned around to face the source of the voice where seven familiar figures stood. He knew them all for they were his friends and family.

The burning figure that was his mother asked again, "Why didn't you come with us when we told you to? We could have all escaped together."

His father spoke next, "But no, you just stood there and watched. Watched us burn. Watched us die."

Finally, his little sister, "You did this to us."

"No. No, it wasn't my fault. I was only a kid. You can't expect me to-"

"You murdered us!" they shouted in unison.

Next it was his old team's turn. Greyson spoke first, "I should have known you would have been a terrible leader. The only reason we survived our test was because of our fighting skill. You were holding us back."

"Now we're gone. You don't even know where we went. Have you even tried to find us? No, of course not. You only care about yourself," Daniel said.

Priscilla stood in silence as Robert waited for her to speak. In his head, he pleaded for her to stand up for him. She had his back right? As a single tear rolled down her cheek though, he knew that what was coming would be far from pleasant to hear. "I loved you, Robbie. I trusted you, not only as my leader, but as my lover. And you just threw me away. Forgot about me. You've probably already moved on to some other girl, too."

"No, I could never do that to you guys. I've tried to look into it. I've tried to find you guys, I just haven't found anything. I would never leave you behind. You're my team."

"So what does that make me?" Delta asked. "I was on your team wasn't I? But as soon as you saw me get pulled away, you had everyone retreat. You left me in that forest."

"I couldn't put everyone else's life in danger. I had to make a choi-"

"Well you chose wrong!"

Robert collapsed onto his knees, tucking his head into his chest. "It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real," he repeated to himself as the people around began to decay around him, like a video of a rotting corpse being played in fast forward.

Then the noises stop. The accusations, the sound of burning wood, and the moaning of the dead all disappeared. Silence. Robert looked up to see he was no longer in his childhood home but in complete darkness. He couldn't see anything but his own body. Before he could wonder where he was now though, the silence broke. It was the sound of a child sobbing. A sound he knew well. And in the distance, a single lamppost stood over the huddled body of the crying child. Inching his way closer, Robert approached the child a placed a hand on the kid's red hair. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Why does everyone around me always leave me? Why do I have to feel so alone?" the boy asked between sobs.

"I won't leave you. I promise."

"Really?" he asked, looking up to Robert who nodded in response. A sinister smile then formed on his face as he whispered the word, "Good." Suddenly, the boy burst into flames, lunging forward at Robert and sinking his teeth into the young hunter's neck.

Robert finally awoke from his nightmare, his body covered in sweat and his entire bed completely soaked through. No, this wasn't his bed. It wasn't even his room. Where was he? Everything was so white and clean. Was he not able to keep his promise? Was this heav-

The curtain next to Robert was suddenly pulled away, breaking his concentration as a nurse looked at him curiously. "Oh, you're awake already? After what you'd been through, we thought you'd be out of it for another few days. At least you won't miss Parent Day. I'm sure you're folks would love to see their little boy being so brave protecting the kingdom," she said, taking a look at his chart.

"Parent Day?"

"Oh yes, you were probably out of range when everyone was sent the message. A letter was sent to your home address, notifying your parent or guardians that they could come and visit tomorrow. Which reminds me, I was going through your files and noticed you had several blanks throughout, including an emergency contact for when something like this happens. Do you know how we could a hold of your family?"

"You... can't. I don't have one."

The nurse was quiet for a few moments as she realized what Robert meant. Placing his chart back, the nurse decided to move the conversation to other matters. "Well you suffered some pretty nasty wounds. Three broken ribs, moderate laceration to your head as well as severe laceration to your chest, which had become infected mind you. To top it all off, it took us about an hour to remove all of the shrapnel that covered your body. I'd say you're quite lucky to be alive."

"Yeah... lucky."

"Well I guess that'll be all for now. Please refrain from leaving this bed until one of the doctors clears you first," she said before finally leaving Robert alone again.

A second man spoke up, with a different account than his teamate, much more moderate than his fellow. As much as Ferris wasn't sure who, if either, had the story straight, so he couldn't make a conclusion, but from what he over heard, he could piece together the important details of what happened. He felt a little guilty for eavesdropping afterward, for there was little he could do, other then morn the death of a Hunter.

"May I assist you, Mr. Solidor?" Ozpin asked, turning about to face Ferris.

Slight gulp. Ferris bit back the first reply that came to his mind and the second too. Neither of them were very polite, and it would not do to mouth off to the Headmaster.

Besides, Ferris actually respected the man.

Ferris concealed his intimidation and surprise and gave the gray-haired Professor an apologetic grin. "No sir, I'll be on my way now." Ferris wasn't trying to hide anything, he was fairly sure that Ozpin already knew what was up. The question had been retorical, and the implication behind it was clear. They had just lost a friend, and having a stranger hanging around was probably not what they wanted. He inline his head slightly to Ozpin, and turned to go.

During the brief conversation, he had had the strange feeling that someone was wating him. It was a disturbing sensation, like...a predator's eyes on him. He surreptitiously glanced around to find the owner of the gaze and his eyes fell on a girl with bright red -- No wait, that didn't quite describe it. Scarlet was a better color. Yeah, like blood. -- Scarlet hair and eyes staring at him. She was standing next to a gorilla of a man, spiky hair, firce eyes, and angular features. A Faunas, Ferris decided, but what type he couldn't tell from this distance. The contrast between the pair was quite striking. A moment later, the big guy left and the girl followed. He frowned after them, not quite sure what that was about.

A thought struck him and he pulled out his Scroll, called up a contact, and tapped out a quick one-handed message:

To: Team

You guys alive yet?

The smell of cooking food made him look up, and the Faunas from earlier had set up a freaking grill, and was cooking his heart out. Ferris raised an eybrow. How bizarre. Don't they know that the Mess Hall serves breakfast? To each their own I guess.

Now, about that library...

@SuperCustodiam@NarayanK@Lucius Cypher@Caasicam@Lugubrious

Andromeda's Scroll gave a beep, accompanied by a flash, which nearly caused her to drop the biscuit she had managed to obtain in surprise. "Mmmph!" she eloquently exclaimed, mouth currently full, as she used her pinky to select the new message. Her other hand was still occupied by a-slight warm at this point-cup of coffee. Number four, she was pretty sure. It was all kinda blending together into a unspecific time period before the caffeine kicked in.

From: bossman

You guys alive yet?

Andromeda snorted, rolling her eyes at the message. haha sure, funny

She pinky-typed a reply, pausing only to multitask (it is possible!) and take another bite out of the biscuit.

i found coffee

Andromeda glanced up, peering around the area for a moment. Ferris must've woken up far before she did, not all that surprising, seeing as he was nowhere to be found in what was most students' first stop in the morning. That, or she totally blew past him from her half-sleeping march to here. Either was equally likely.

Her Scroll flashed once again, drawing her attention back down.

Careful not to drown.

oh jeez

She made a face at the screen.

haven't yet, no promises tho

Looking up again, she actually recognized a familiar face in the growing sea of students, and she grinned, dropping her snack on the table to wave frantically in his direction.

"Mmmmmmph!" Andromeda vocalized, before swallowing. "Charon!" She called, waving her teammate over to her otherwise empty table, before typing out another message to Ferris.

i found charon

@Crimson Raven @SuperCustodiam

Sand was treated to the awkward experience of the Headmaster of a Huntsman Academy apologizing to her. In response, she gave a small bow of the head, taking the chance to briefly break eye contact.

“It couldn’t be helped, Sir. Thank you.”

As Ozpin spun around to address one of the onlookers, Sand felt the tension draining from her shoulders. Most students milling around the docks quickly began to lose interest, returning to their own business and leaving the three of them to their own devices.

And that was that for the moment. Sand would be staying with the team she ran into during her own mission. It made sense, really. A vacancy was created and filled the moment a suitable replacement was found. It had occurred to her that something like this would happen when she learned the three hailed from Beacon, but it still surprised her how readily the headmaster had made the decision.

My being here must be convenient for the school’s administration, she thought. At least until they decide what to do with Robert. Then again, oversimplifying the situation like that was hardly fair to those involved. Perhaps it was overly cynical of her.

It did no good dwelling on it, she resolved. She had more immediate concerns, in any case. The coincidence that had brought her to Beacon early meant she was completely unprepared. All she had to her name at the moment were her scroll and the clothes she was wearing, she had yet to report the result of her own mission, and she was largely ignorant of the school’s layout. She imagined most of that would have to wait until the school’s administration worked her into the system as an active student, lest she took a flight to Vale only to find she was not allowed back to Beacon without proper identification, but at least one issue could be rectified immediately.

She looked at the two students, faces she was sure she would see a lot in the coming days. “Huh. I guess we’re officially teammates now. I honestly didn’t see this coming when you ran past me back in the forest,” she commented with a small, almost ironic smile that was well aware of the absurdity of their situation. She rested her hands at her hips. “What will you two do now? I imagine Robert will be in the doctors’ care for some time before we can see him. I don’t suppose one of you can show me to the dorms in the meantime?”

@Awesomoman64 @Nytem4re

_{"Charooonnn!"}

"Hmmm?" A distant call got his attention as he finished pouring milk onto his Wheaties, the same cereal he had yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that. He turned around to face the ocean of students sitting down at various tables in the mess hall, his eyes trying to isolate who was calling him. He shuffled forward, looking over and around various heads and persons to find the source of the distant call, but as much as he tried, he hadn't a clue where it came from.

Maybe I'm just looking in the wrong place, maybe... He decided to try something different, as the feat of finding one head in the thousands is not easy at all. He closed his eyes for only a brief moment, focusing on his aura and attempting to reach outwards to find the source. The sheer number of students crashed against him abruptly, almost enough to make him lose all concentration, but he quickly regained his composure and in a flash, he locked onto the source.

He opened his eyes to see a happy Andromeda, waving at him frantically, sitting at a small table not too far away. He smiled and waved back to her, and began to walk over to her. Glad that didn't fail me in a time of need. He knew that talking to Andromeda would defiantly cheer him up, as everything up to this point was an absolute train wreck, but when it comes to talking to Andromeda, she has a lot to say about what ever it is you talk to her about. Sometimes it's for better and some times it's for worse, but in this case, it's going to be for better, and he is going to be glad that she'll be able to lend an ear in his time of crisis.

He approached the table and set his tray down, and sat down, letting out a big sigh, "Mornin' Andromeda," He took off his hat, letting loose the wild monster that was his bedhead combined with hat hair now. "I hope your Morning was better than mine at the least.."

He grabbed his spoon of his tray and submerged it into his cereal bowl, and stuck it in his mouth and began to chew the cardboard squares that where Wheaties. It was at that point when he noticed a snicker, and he looked up at Andromeda, who looked like she was holding back a laugh the best that she could.

Charon stopped chewing and frowned, "What? I don't look that ridiculous, do I?"

@Caasicam @Crimson Raven

Shit.

Wiping the tears from my eyes, I quickly ran to some pajama pants I had thrown on the floor, I’m sure my intentions at some point were to wear them. Jumping into them and beginning to pull them up I ran towards the door, but my leg hesitated before I had realized I was already heading straight for the ground.

thud

Ow.

Owwwwww.

Rolling over onto my wings.

Wings Bianca.

You can fly again you idiot.

Sighing deeply I pulled my pants up and over my bum and moved to the door groaning. I opened it to reveal my former teammate Gratia.

It was hard to put into words what we had, her and I. Honestly, I loved it. I knew she had my back, even more so sometimes than Estelle and my father. But others had a hard time placing Gratia’s affection. She was tough on everyone and she didn’t pull punches. But for whatever reason she was always there for me. I’m still not sure the inherent value she sees in my life, but honestly, I’ve always been thankful for it. It makes me feel more elite than any kind of wealth could. Like I had an impenetrable shield, or something like that.

I opened the door just a small amount, stopping it at my shoulder. Hopefully that way she wouldn’t be able to make out too much about my face, given the dark room.

“Hey Gratia, couldn’t sleep?” I asked in a soothing voice.

@Plank Sinatra@Write@Silvan Haven@HereComesTheSnow


"Not yet," said Gratia flatly, eyes immediately fixating upon Nuit's face. Even with the lack of illumination, it was clear that the onyx orbs were piercingly intense, hyper-focused in a manner not dissimilar to a laser. "There's shit I need to address."

What exactly had grabbed Gratia's attentions went unsaid, but given the stoic teenager's presence at the door to 1001, it would take a particularly retarded shithead to not correctly infer why she was there. For all the pretenses that her teammate made of having somehow managed to rapidly recover, it was almost pathetically obvious that something was still gnawing away at the other girl's mind. The flanderized persona was just one sign, but another particularly evident one was-

"I'm assuming those are tears rather than some fucktard's jizz," continued the Mistralese huntress. "You don't work that quickly."

It would explain the failed attempt at hiding something, but that would have also been ridiculously uncharacteristic of Nuit. Not when she was presently in such a pitiful state. It was far likelier for her to have been crying.

"We need to talk."

This was another part of our relationship. It was kind of like this complimenting insulting love. But it was completely unique to Gratia. It was just kind of the way she spoke. Probably because her family was so polite.

“Alright, sure.” I said, opening the door allowing Gratia to enter the room and leading her back to my bed, which I saw down on.

“Everything okay?” I asked, I knew it was stupid as soon as the words escaped my lips. But there it was, floating through the aether. It wrung out through the room. She was fine. I knew that. She knew that.

It wasn’t Gratia that needed a rescue party.

It was me.

I brushed my hair out of my eyes as they glistened just the slightest amount. “What’s wrong?” I said stopping myself short from continuing that line of questioning. My unsteady eyes watched Gratia, as hard as it was to hear her words when I was feeling this vulnerable, it was cathartic in a way.

I braced myself for impact.

@Plank Sinatra@Write@Silvan Haven@HereComesTheSnow


"Stop pretending to be fine."

She pulled over a chair, dropping herself down onto it with a quiet thud. Gratia Mindaro leaned forward, elbows resting on her thighs and hands steepled together. Her expression was devoid of visible emotion as always, but there was a note in her tone that betrayed her investment in the topic they were now addressing.

"You're not getting any shit done like that."

And it's fucking pissing me off.

“I know, I’m sorry.” I said quietly looking at my knees. It was hard to acknowledge her, I knew she was going to be coming up here at some point.

I gripped my knees tightly, in order to stop myself from shaking at all. My knuckles turned white and my knees stung, but the shaking didn’t even feel close to subsiding.

“I need to be alright though.” I said, brushing the wetness from my eyes and forcing a smile. “It has to happen. If I’m not alright by the time I get back to Beacon then I’ve failed everyone who put their life on the line to save me. Besides, I’ve got my wings back.” I said offering Gratia a smile.

“I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.” I said calmly, my voice steadying.