_{(Original followup image deleted because it sucked)}

The eyes of a red snake opened slowly.

Morning had arrived again.

It felt no different from any other day, but it was a bit of a special day. The reason for why it was special remained hazy to Sangue Naga as her vision became less of a colorful blur. Her sheets had been tossed over against the wall next to her, her skin weakly glowing under the morning.

Why she did not wear anything aside from the cloth wrapped around her body, she did not remember. But the woman was not one to ask about anything she became curious of. She only asked when she believed she absolutely needed to know about something.

Her long hair covering parts of her bare skin, she glanced at her arm.

Or rather, arms.

She remembered why she felt sore. Sangue had slept with her prosthetic on.

Her eyes trailing over its simple design, she watched as she let the arm slowly move its fingers. The nerves of her shoulder that had never served a purpose after it had been severed from her arm had suddenly become far more important than ever. Before, she would wildly swing a chained Claw and sometimes calculate swinging arcs to latch onto things.

Now she needed to get used to an arm- something she hadn’t lived with even before she had properly learned how to use a blade from someone else.

By concept, she could now do a few more things than her one-armed self. She could pick up trays with two hands like others, eat a hamburger without having to cut it up, and cut steak comfortably.

She could also hold a puppy without the fear of dropping it on its head.

Now that she thought about it, there was a plethora of new things she could do.

She had yet to show it to her team, though. She almost stayed up overnight just swinging her shiny new arm around like it was a baseball bat. While she felt tired for wasting her time with the handy prosthetic, however, she did not want to oversleep.

Even if it meant that she could dose off for an entire day while following a daily school life with her friends.

I… should thank Shiro and Gren later, she thought, feeling the sensation of the prosthetic’s metal with her real hand. It felt heavier than her Claw, but not by too much. She could get used to it.

---

The snake left her dorm with her usual black-red robes as she sat in the cafeteria, absentmindedly staring at the table in front of her. She blinked, her mind partially dipping into a train of thought.

Apep didn't arrive yet.

Their conversation stilled for a moment, as Robert chose to divert his irritation towards his food, and Sand placidly lied back on her chair. She couldn’t help teasing him. She had a soft spot for naiveté of that sort, though perhaps it was more accurate to call it a cruel kind of affection.

She sighed at the thought, then broke the silence as it began to turn uncomfortable. “It’s good that you’re taking things well. When I heard the news from Trad, I expected to find you sulking.”

“Sulking?” he repeated through a mouthful of pastry.

“Or moping,” she added. “Maybe even brooding.” Hm. I’m doing it again.

Robert waited to swallow his food before continuing. “Hmm. Yeah, at first I was pretty down in the dumps about everything,” he began. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m still pretty shaken by the loss of Delta and Eve, but… It’s just… Like I said back at the fort. I’ve lost a lot of close people over the years. Family, friends, teammates. I think I’ve just gotten used to burying it inside. The only reason I had that outburst was because his… death sort of brought everything bubbling back up. I know it’s not a healthy way to deal with loss, but it’s just a habit I’ve picked up at this point.”

Sand’s eyes drooped. She had tried to keep the conversation light hearted by referring to the change in leadership and not mentioning the casualty at the fort, but she supposed this was too big an issue to sidestep. In fact, Robert’s list was quite expansive. One had to wonder how a person could be linked to so much misfortune at such an age.

A part of her couldn’t help but wonder if she was in danger just by being close to him. But then again, if the boy was truly an active threat, she could not imagine the academy’s administration allowing his stay.

So what is there to say? Was that an invitation to pry? This was the second time she had felt this way around Robert, and her trepidation was the same. She did not want to know his pain when she doubted there was anything she could do about it. Contemplating loss, she knew, was a profoundly lonesome experience.

“Hopefully, you haven’t made claiming responsibility into a habit,” she said halfheartedly. “It’s hard to be objective when things go wrong, because latching to excuses is much too easy. Still, one should be somewhat critical.”

Robert replied with a snort, as though he found something about that amusing. “Actually, when Ozpin came to get my side of the story, I… may or may not have been very biased when telling him what happened. I’m surprised my leadership position was the only thing he took.”

“Lucky. He either read between the lines or is a hopeless optimist.” The latter wouldn’t bode well for my future, mind you.

The boy nodded in agreement as he grabbed another muffin and began to stuff it into his mouth. “Mmm. Chocolate,” he mumbled with a mouthful of food.

“Say, who do you think will get named leader? Trad or Grane?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’d much prefer Trad out of the two due to how hostile and uncooperative Grane usually is, but it’s not like we get to vote. The only thing I know is it won’t be me. Heck, I don’t see why the headmaster wouldn’t choose you. You certainly pulled out butts out of the fire back at Fort Jaeger.”

“I doubt it.” She wasn’t sure she liked that idea. “I’m a recent transfer, after all, and I wasn’t a team leader at Atlas either.”

“Well I know I gave you some pretty high praise yesterday and Trad said nothing to dispute it. I don’t know about Grane, but I could see him actually agreeing with me on it for once. Seriously, I wouldn’t count yourself out of the race yet,” Robert persisted, clearly trying to encourage her.

“Well.” Just this once, it was not wanted. “Damn.”

“Hey, watch the language,” Robert teased.

She let out an unladylike grunt in response. One way or another, that was a bridge to cross later. So then, to change the subject. “When are they letting you out anyway?”

An opening door and footsteps preempted the boy’s response. Sand looked over her shoulder to see a man in a white coat approaching the bed.

“In a few minutes, if everything checks out,” the doctor answered in Robert’s stead. “I’ll need to ask you to step outside for a moment, ma’am.”

“I see.” Sand stood up, grabbing onto her bag and slinging it over her shoulder before moving towards the entrance. As her hand touched the handle, a thought crossed her mind. She glanced back at Robert and asked, “Want me to wait for you?”

As the doctor was stepping towards him, Robert leaned to the side so the man didn’t obstruct the view of his new teammate. “If you’ve got other plans or people to see, I don’t mind finding my own way back. Do what you want,” he replied.

“Hm.” Trying not to impose, she supposed, though that last bit had come off as rather aloof. She gestured towards her bag. “Need to drop this in the room. Will you be heading back there?”

“Probably. I don’t have anyone visiting campus to go meet with so I was planning on either wasting time there or just exploring campus,” the red-haired boy explained.

Then again, it’s hardly surprising, considering what he’s told me.

“Think I can wait for a bit, then. If you’re quick about it,” she said, turning the handle and leaving the room.

His teeth were gnawing on the back of his lip fervently to keep from groaning.

Jericho had already slipped up twice, as much a victim to petty nuisances like pain and anger as any ten-year old punk at Bastion. Granted, most ten-year olds at Bastion hadn't fallen victim to being stalked and viciously gut stabbed from behind (that course, they saved for fourteen-year olds) but Jericho had been trained to expect this sort of thing. And it still hurt.

He would need further conditioning.

He had gotten the assassin that did it, at least.

Faunus, long ears late teens/early twenties, waitress disguise, utilized a hopping-centric fighting style. Rabbit?

Potentially traveling with Duck Faunus partner?

Not that it mattered much. He had failed. There were still at least two days left in this assignment, and here he was - dying alone, slumped against a bed, using a food-stained coat and a possessed left hand to try and staunch the blood flow from his wounds. His Scroll's screen was cracked, maybe useless. There wouldn't be point in calling for backup this far away from Atlas anyway. To say goodbye, though...

Rich. Speer. Bright. Captain.

Babs...

The boy groaned softly.

Couldn't hurt now.

His gloved hand began to move away from his wounds, a fresh trickle of blood leaking out at the loss of pressure. His fingers stretched out for his Scroll--

KICK AT THE DOOR.

--and then flew back to the chest harness over his t-shirt, reaching for one of the two enormous pistols holstered over his pectorals.

Ah, well. She would have talked my ear off anyway.

Jericho Piper smiled faintly.

Whatever happened, he was a Gold Stripe of Atlas. He had given his life up a long time ago. He didn't mind.

Unless he failed to cost his assailants more than one life.

Dying having only gotten even was so...

So...

His gloved hand clenched.

k̶͆̂́i͋̒̉̊ͨ́͝l̇͌̾҉ļ͒ͥ͗̔ͬ̍̄̊̾ ͒ͩ͏̷y̨ͬ͂̀̐ͮ̑̽̅͘o̧͊̆̇͟ů̑̍̾͠ ͩͨͤ̒͡a̍͆ͯ̏̍l̛̇ͤ͂͏l̨ͥ̉ͯ͊̍͏.͛ͫ͝

"Je t'a--"

Within the next fourteen seconds, Jericho Piper's world - and the rest of his life - had flipped upside down, spun 1080 degrees, shot him in the gut, smacked him in the face, and then kissed him emphatically. With tongue.

First emerged a slight, lean boy from the ruin of the door. He had keen eyes, and swept the entire room as if looking for one particular person - and that person clearly hadn't been Jericho, judging by the look of surprise and concern(?) that fell over his face the second he saw the young special agent slumped against the bed. Jericho's ungloved hand clutched his pistol. It was all he could do not to scream in pain, between the lurch in his gut at the movement and the burning in his arm at the half-finished incantation.

Judgͭ̇͛̿̅̐̚m̐̄̂ͩͣeͪ̂̎ͬͨṅ̎͒̑tͩ̂ ̌ͦfͬ̏ͩ̚elt̑̓͂ͫ ͧlͪ̿̓̂̈̓i̾̾k̓̽ͣͣͦ̓͊e ̾ͮ̒͗it ̾̾̆w̑̂ͤ͒̾̑a͛̐͗̂̅̏͂s̏̽̄͋ͨ̈́ͬ ͪ͆̈̃ͨon͐ ͦͤfͥiͣ̀̄ͩ͋re͒͒͑ͨͬ̽.͒̎̄ T̜̟͉̠͍̬̺͐̏ͅĥ͉̗̞̃̃̄e̥̦̠͍̱͙̐ͯͮ̽̔ͫ͛̒r̤͉̓͆ͬẽ̫̻͕͐͑ͣ͆̾̔ ̻̬̞͍̤̫̜́w͉̪̼̹̠̿̽̄ͯ̔̉ͪa̦͚͚͔ͣ́ͫͨͪ̌͌s̟̞̰̦̥̬͋͂ ̘͔̠̃ͫ̋̈ͧ͑ͬg̠̥̣̰͚̬̅̿ͥ̔̅r͉̜̺̘̞̭̓̏o̱̝͔͍̪̱̲͆ͥ̈͐ͬ̾w̥̗̃͑͋ͩ̄l̠̲̠̥̍̿͊ͫ̄̑̋̇i̞͖̘̘͖̳̰͊̀̎̏n͕̈͊ͧ̅ͯg͚͖̪̤͔̯͔ͪ̌̔ͥͣ̀̋ ̼ͤ̍ͯ̒ͪͨͭ̅͑i͖̞͖̪̖̗̩̭͉͌̃͊ͤ̎n͖͕ͤ̍͊ ̰͎̮̹ͭ̇̏ͥ̇̊h͎͚̞̭͎̪͋͛ͪ͌i̥̰̭̽̄s̲̟̤̣̲̲̞ͨͦͮ ͈̹̝͚̞̞̯͌̒ͧ̋̚h͇̬̩̐̽̌́͊e̟̦̝͓̤̗͕̔̋̆̒̀̒̚ȧ̞̼̲̼̋͑͌d͙̰̲̗̍͗͛ͩ̌͒̎ͬ.̦̮̹͖ͪ̍ͯ̋ͤ͌
̬̭͍̝͚͍̩̮̓̆͒̔
͖̼̫̼̞͕͕̆̎̋ͬ̋͊̊̇T̝̣̤̱̱̥̽̆̑̋ͨ͗̈́h̩͙͚͈͇̿̈́̓ͥ̆͂e͈͙̠͈̗͋̾ͥ̀ͨ̃̅ͫ͋ ̱͚̞͎͙̞ͭͨ͌d̻̙̰̜̦̩̟͍ͩ͒ͦ̍̆͊ͫḙ̳̫̞̰͖̘͉̒̋̒͗̂v̮̝̥ͩͣ̑̾̍ͅi̮̤͉̺̞͐̉̏̈̈́ͫl̟̭͉̆'̠̗̰̣͍͕ͣ̿ͮ̈́̇͊̑̂͌ͅs̼̻̹̻͓̦͂ͧͯ ̩̦́̐͋̍ͭb͈͈͖̬̪̽́̉̆ḻ̣̖͕̰̜̬͐̎̾͗͊͂̾̇̓ȍ̻̬̪͓͛o̤̙̰̟̘̥͖̾̊̽̚d͖̼͚͉̪̮̞̱̄ͨ̾ͤ̽͑̐s̩͕̲͇̼͚̜̒̂̋̀̊̒̅̎ͅh̝̤ͦ̒̐̀͗̓ͮ̽͊ô̜͚̲̦̯̰͎͌ͭt̠̚ ͇̼͙̺̔ḙ̠̯̯̰̼ͩ͛ͦ̎̎̋͂͆̐y͖̟̜̤̪̝̬͎̾̿̈́ͬ̋͛ͧ̒̚e̠̺ͤ̉̿s̯̭͍͖͙̥͍̭̆̈́ͤ͒̐ ̜̤̯̱̗̫̾m̻̺͑̀e̼̲̠͇͂̔̾͌̄̚t̞̺̫́ͪ̐̏̊̂ͅ ͖̩̌̂̍̐ͪt̪̼̮̥̗̰̹̏̾̓ͭͣ̑ͤͧh̗̖͔̣̟̮̭̳͆̇̓ͦ̍o̮̪͎̭͕̰̲͕̅̅͒̈́ͧs͕̩͕̫̎ͪ̀̂ē̮͓̭̬̙͍̘̫ͫ ͚̙͆̉̍̆͐ͦ̒ͤȏ̲̺̞̫͋͐͊ͭ̐f̥̩͉͍̰͔̽̍ͤ̾ͅ ̪̮̜̱̝̰͓̞ͤͫ̋̾͐̾̔ͅt̖̼̙͔͔̺͍̳̥͌̏̄̋ͬ̍̊͆h͓͕̬͈̯̍͛̆̈ͤ̒̂͒ͩͅé̺͔̰̹͔̝̤̺̲͗̍̎ ̘̗̜͙̪ͫ̆ͬͣ̋̇ͅh̰̺̰̝̤̱͗ͩē̙̳̦̲͍̥͈̱d̬̱̞͕̤͛ͩ͐̆ͤg̭̲ͤ̀ͥ̉ͩ͒͑ͮe̫̦̽̆h̠̬̠͈̩̀̆̓ͣͧͭͬ͛ȍ̩̿͑g͎̫͎̮̠͚ͮ̓ͅ ̪̪̯̳̠̠̱͈̱͆̽̏ͨ̊͑͛̊ͦF̫͉͋ͮͤ̃̄̂ͬa̗̠̺̙̭̞̮̘̝ͩͫ̋͋͋ͣ͊ú̬̹̲͓̙̿͐̒n͉̣̮͑̔u̜͓̱̤̮͖͙ͣ̓̄̀ͪ̂͑̚ͅs̟̼͈̬̰̲̞͗ͦ̿̋ͬ͑̀.̙̥͙͈̳͈͌͑̓̇

Something in the air sparked, and Jer blinked.

He still wanted to scream. And the boy with the goofy hair wouldn't just move.

"Gotta go faster," he growled contemptuously at the apparently-hapless killer.

Then his haplessness made sense: Bianca Nuit was right on his heels.

Jer let out another quiet, helpless groan. That's what this was, then. They were trying to keep him from dying in peace.

"What's going on here?"

"Get away--"

"Who the fuck's this?"

His eyes found her.

Tall. Attractive. Dead eyes. Sweeping the room like the boy had, but with casual disinterest...no...disdain?

She seems as disgusted with these people as I do.

Had he found a kindred spirit?

"No one."

Jericho inched his way up, only to be rewarded for his return to proper posture with a lance of pain in his side and Bianca patting the bed. Clearly, she wanted him to get up there so she could butcher him. Bianca Nuit did not look like someone who had ever so much as removed an organ in Operation without a siren. Jer wasn't about to trust her with his own torso.

As if communicating his thoughts, one incandescent streak of scarlet hair reared back from Bianca distrustfully.

"Leave," the spy said bluntly.

@Plank Sinatra@Write@Silvan Haven@HereComesTheSnow


The movement of the glowing red strands, rearing back almost like a snake, immediately caught Gratia's onyx gaze. The hair had moved on its own, without any physical interaction with the world around it. She could feel a hiss at the back of her throat. It was just her fucking luck to find another boy with stupidly active hair. And it glowed too, as if being able to move wasn't excessive enough. It was irksome. Yet she tore her eyes away from it, focusing her attentions on the wounded figure as a whole. She could deal with the bullshit that was the world's love for strange hair later. What was important now was establishing what the fuck had happened.

Only an idiot would fail to realise that the man ... boy (the figure's relatively youthful face suggested he was near their age) was likely a participant in the fracas that they had all heard earlier. The participant that had emerged victorious, having killed the personality that had once resided in the piece of trash that was now sinking into the dark ocean depths. Even in such a wounded state and his failure to avoid the intimate embrace of a food cart, it was clear to Gratia that the boy was likely trained. His body looked fit, and that pathetic attempt at trying to return to a proper posture was further evidence to her hypothesis.

It was like the fool wanted to fucking die or something.

Gratia Mindaro wouldn't let him. Not until somebody explained what the fuck was going on. Who was he? What was his purpose here? Who had he killed? Why was he in the room next to Nuit's? And would his presence prove to be irksome to her time on this cruise?

"Not until you tell me what I want to know," was her cold, flat response. "Get on the fucking bed. If you want to avoid bleeding to death like a hen in a sketchy Mistralese slaughterhouse, don't even try to argue."

She swept her eyes over his form once more. The strangely ornate glove (what were those inscriptions?) that was met by bandages at the elbow was the stand-out of his appearance. It was an eerie thing, the metallic sheen under the dull light of the room unbefitting the nature of its leatherlike material. Usually, there would have been no issue as writing it off as a hideous asymmetrical fashion choice that was little more than evidence for the boy being a possible huntsman (the fashion of those with power tended to be more uniquely retarded), but the tight clenching of the hand it covered ... there was something off. The amount of force put into the clench seemed excessive to the amount of pain he should've been feeling.

Fortunately for him, he would be freed from being fucked over by that pain soon enough.

"Schwarz, heal him," she continued, her tone growing slightly commanding. "Nuit, if he resists, punch him."

Her impassive gaze locked onto the boy's.

"So who are you, and what the fuck led to you killing and throwing someone off this shitty boat?"

"Sure," I replied, rolling up a sleeve. "Just need the needle to draw out my..."

Or, actually.

There was a much more viable alternative to the slight pinprick that a little sewing needle would provide. I heal extraordinarily fast, and a wound that small would probably vanish in the rough ballpark of a second. Maybe a second and a half on a slow, lazy day.

The point being that asking for the needle was an exercise in inefficiency. I needed something more deadly, as it happened. Sharper, and capable breaking more skin and blood vessel than a simple needle pricking the thumb.

My eyes broke from the leery, injured, and glowy-haired boy that was currently clutching his side and fell upon the answer at Gratia's hip.

"Actually, instead of the needle, do you mind if I borrow the sword again? It'll be a lot faster."

Wordlessly, she slid the sabre out of its scabbard and presented it to me hilt-first with a look that gave me a good idea of what she would have said normally.

I don't give a damn if you cut yourself on my edge, just get it done.

...Well, I might have paraphrased a bit, but that was the general vibe I got.

"Thank you."

I ran the blade across my palm and grit my teeth. The downside of having a weapon draw my blood instead of a needle was obvious. Needles pricking hurt you less than the slice of a sword damn near universally.

Granted, it was far better than what our mysterious friend with the gauntlet must be going through. Having a chunk taken out of your side was debilitating in the extreme for most people. It was a miracle he could even muster movement at all, let alone attempt to stand.

Trust me, I knew. This guy was tough.

Stepping forward, I addressed him directly for the first time.

"Hand off the wound, please."

@MULTI_MEDIA_MAN@Forsythe@floodtalon



Emerald was the last of team CODE to wake on Monday morning, and given the extend of the injuries she had suffered on Friday it wasn't too surprising, she had slept most of Saturday and Sunday away. Today would be different however.

As the cat Faunus stirred from her slumber, the voices of her teammates the reason she was now awake. Her eyes slowly opened as she groaned, moving up to a sitting position, letting her feet hang off the bed as she rubbed her eyes. Her tiredness quickly disappeared as she remembered what day it was, the hair on her ears stood straight up in alert. "Oh crap I overslept! I'm not ready at all!"

She leap off the bed, though regretted doing so as moving that quickly actually hurt. The doctors had agreed to let her return to her dorm on Sunday night as long as she didn't do anything really physical for the next few days, she was actually recovering fairly quickly. She still looked like she'd barely survived a war zone though, with more bandages, scars, and bruises than healthy skin visible.

That was hardly going to stop her from enjoying today however. Her parents were going to be there very soon, and she did not want to be caught in bed when they arrived. They worried about her enough as it was, when they had found out about her injuries she had to talk to them via her scroll for over an hour to reassure them that she was okay. Ugh.

She sniffed the air as she picked up the scent of breakfast.

"I made breakfast. You guys want any?" The voice of the gods said...oh wait no, that was just Cobalt. Still it was rather nice of him to make breakfast, this made him about one percent more useful as team leader, but his competence was still at zero unfortunately. "Thanks Cobalt!" Emerald chirped, grabbing a handful of bacon, she stuffed that into her mouth before taking some eggs and eating them in almost the same matter, though she used a fork at least.

She had finished her breakfast faster than most would consider proper before she started heading out the door with a glass of orange juice in hand. "I've gotta see Gren about some improvements to my weapons, I'll catch you guys later!" She paused as she finally noticed Diamond's hair. "Nice haircut...bye!" With that she was gone with the wind.

--------

A few minutes later Emerald walked into the gym, she had asked random people if they had seen Gren, and Gren, being the hulking figure he was, was fairly hard to miss. She was eventually pointed to the gym, and that's where she immediately found the giant man. At least, he was a giant to Emerald. Much to her dismay, Emerald was quite literally the shortest student in the entire school.

Gren would find himself being tapped by the cat Faunus. "Heeeey Gren, did you finish the weapons?" She grinned.

Varius Gilver

@Crimmy

Between pauses in their conversation he simply read his book. The series was getting rather interesting, it was fortunate that he returned to it when he did, as it was slow-going the last volume or so. He responded to Shuai's comment on his family business,

"Indeed, it keeps them busy, whenever I see them it's all about formalities, and it does truly become tiring. Though they always mean well, they sent me some souvenirs from their new forging method. Four small blades. I assume they mean to give them to our team, one for each", he spoke as if this was nothing, but that would explain the small package on the main desk. Four small blades? Likely tantos, based on his family. More importantly despite him being tired by formalities, he still speaks in such a formal manner.

Shuai Taidan - Monday

"I've never used a tanto before," said Taidan honestly, because he honestly hadn't. He was honestly more a spear-wielder, honestly, because honestly there weren't many honest times he needed to use a blade like that. Also, where he was from didn't really have tantos, honest. "Might have to teach me, haha."

He pulled himself up into a sitting position on the bed, arms wrapping around his curled up legs. Resting his chin on his knees, the prettyboy shot his teammate a reassuring smile, in the same dazzling manner that he always had.

"Maybe you can convince them to take some time to chill," he mused. "Instill some enthusiasm and family bonding. Gotta fill their darkened souls with light."

"How perceptive of you!" Diamond barked from her bed at the rest of the people in the room. She must have slept like a log since she didn't hear one of them come to the room, and yet shortly after Emerald made her presence known as well, very briefly. Her entire body still ached after yesterday's beating, adding a cherry on top of her usual Monday morning misery cake. She needed coffee.

Thinking of which, her nose finally registered pancakes. She looked at Cobalt and snapped her fingers a few times: "Give!" she ordered, her tone of voice and the stern look in her eyes allowing for no discussion. Still half sitting, half lying in her bed she started digging into the meal, the sweet taste finally warming her soul a little. "So, is Emmy the only one of us misfits with any family left to speak of?" she questioned, recalling Cobalt mentioning he came form pretty much the same social circles as herself.

Diamond wasn't sure if something happened to Oswald's family, although she figured death played a bit too important part in his life. Even now he did seem to have this dark, brooding look on his face, the one Diamond knew herself to have when she started asking the hard questions about life, universe and everything. "Because if not, it's a wonderful day to go and do some training. Even a set of eyes in a wheelchair can still look for any mistakes and call them out." she suggested, shooting Oswald a cheeky smirk.

@Multi_Media_Man@floodtalon

Ah, food. Bacon, eggs, and pancakes. Oswald nodded in appreciation and let out a quiet thanks to his team leader. Taking a moment to set a plate for himself and avoiding Emerald's manic dash to go meet up with Gren, Oswald rolled to his bed and carefully re-positioned himself so that we was now sitting on it instead of the chair.

He wanted to comment on Diamond's...demanding behavior, but decided against it. The food was actually pretty good, and even more so after a weekend in the damned infirmary. Her pushiness was far from the worst thing he'd dealt with, after all...

The mention of family almost sent Oswald back into his melancholy, but he instead simply answered with a short sigh. "My parents are fine, it's just...I doubt they even know about this 'Family Day.' Brookeborough's pretty isolationist, even by the standards of other villages outside the major cities. And even if they did know, it's not like they could just get on board an airship and fly over. It's essentially a total no-fly zone over the village." Growing up, he sometimes wondered why movies had so many airships in them when he'd only seen them a few times before coming to Vale. Their abundance in modern society had surprised him.

"It's actually a little better that way, I think. They worry too much about me. I'm..." He wanted to say 'fine.' He wanted to say 'okay.' He wanted to say something, but they knew better. He didn't feel like pretending. "I'm down for helping you guys practice, I guess. Don't really have anything better to do."

Cobalt sighed as Emerald sloppily shoved food into her mouth then ran off shouting about weapon improvements. That was something he could get behind, but it definitely wasn't healthy to eat that fast. Diamond was next as she demanded food in a way that kinda pissed Cobalt off. "Please is a magic word you know." He begrudgingly served her the food, she had brought them food after all, then moved onto Oswald. He had already set a plate for himself and was the most polite out of the entire team when it came to eating, actually chewing the food and saying thank you. It was something.

Diamond mentioned a "Family Day" and Cobalt replied with what was basically a shrug. "Only family I have is in jail. So no visits here." It was sobering to think about, but that was why he came to Beacon. To get himself on the right path and do some good in his so far worthless life. Oswald spoke about his family and how they were so isolated from him and the rest of the world. He could sympathize with the guy.

"If it makes you feel any better, we can be your family for the day. Or I can at least, I don't know about bossy over there." He leaned towards Oswald and mock whispered while pointing towards Diamond.

"I'm down to train." With that said Cobalt walked towards his sword and grabbed it, swinging it to a rest on his shoulder.

@MULTI_MEDIA_MAN@Forsythe@Abillioncats

No messages.

Apep had yet to arrive.

Walking out of the cafeteria, Sangue wandered. When she was alone, there usually weren't many things that could come off as "interesting" to others. She lived quietly on her own, and she tied herself to her friends like a ragdoll connected to a train full of interesting things whenever they did something active.

She walked...
...and walked.

Her eyes fell upon a bench outside. A woman, young in appearance, sat at the bench, a reserved look on her.

She did not seem like a scary person.

Sitting at the bench, the red-haired woman stared at the skies silently. A few moments of quiet observation led Sangue to softly glance at the girl next to her.

And she continued glancing between the skies and the girl, wondering what she thought of the skies.

@Crimmy

@NarayanK

Mindaro Mondays - Galla

A woman had chosen to sit down next to her. The presence of another person on the bench was noticeable; in the corner of her eyes, she could see the flowing red locks, and the quiet shuffling of clothing had not been drowned out by the bustling sounds of the campus grounds. She continued to silently watch the airships glide through the clear Valic skies, delivering their passengers to their assigned destinations. The woman wasn't doing anything. It was not something particularly unexpected; she had no knowledge of the other party, and the reverse was most likely a fact as well.

It didn't really matter that much. All she really needed to do was to wait. The silent glances sent in her direction were of little importance to her.

However, the frequency of the glances suggested an interest in her. Galla turned her head, her hazel eyes meeting the vermilion orbs of the other woman through a curtain of jet-black hair. There were symbols on the woman's face, arranged in a manner akin to tribal markings she had observed in documentaries. Shades of red were ever-present on the figure; prior experience suggested that due to the large amount of colour, the likelihood of the taller woman being a huntress was rather high. She didn't know for what reason a huntress or likely huntress-in-training would take interest in her, but it appeared that such had occurred.

She didn't particularly care for why, but beyond the dull sounds of soft breathing, nothing else had left the other woman's mouth.

"Hello."

She supposed if the other woman wished to enquire something of her, she would start the conversation necessary for such.

Their eyes locked.

She did not turn away from the woman when they faced each other. The snake blinked, her gaze peering into the woman who had an expression just as idle as her own.

Ships sailed in the skies, and the morning calm soothed the snake's mind.

Time ticked normally, and shortly after their eyes met, the woman spoke.

A greeting.

For some reason, the woman reminded Sangue of someone she met before. She couldn't exactly tell who, so she presumed that it was someone she met very briefly.

The red-haired swordswoman bowed softly in response.

"He...llo."

Taking in the physical traits of the young woman next to her, Sangue blinked.

"Have... we met be...fore...?"

@Crimmy

@NarayanK

Mindaro Mondays - Galla

"No we haven't."

Her reply was toneless, lacking even the slightest emotion. The girl had never met the woman next to her before. If they were a huntress at Beacon Academy, however, it wouldn't be a surprise if they had seen her sibling before. That was a likely reason for the assumption; she and Gratia looked remarkably similar to one another.

"You might've met big sister," she clarified, her inflection changing not a single iota.

It was an understandable mistake for a stranger to make.

The woman being the sister of a certain someone she met made a bit of sense.

Although emotionless, the young woman spoke in a way that let Sangue understand her easily. It also made her interested- to see someone who lacked emotions, perhaps more so than herself.

The dark-haired person felt more like a Huntress than Sangue herself. She spoke with nothing holding her back, and more notably, she spoke like a cog wasn’t stuck between her words unlike the Naga. Yet, something about her felt like she was visiting rather than attending the academy.

Perhaps she was waiting for her big sister. If she didn’t attend the academy, then there was a chance her sister was attending if the girl was simply visiting.

“Are... you wai…ting for… your sister…?” Sangue asked.

Sangue herself was waiting for Apep. A whole lot of other people were, undoubtedly, waiting for close friends or family members. The woman next to her could be one of them.

@Crimmy

@NarayanK

Mindaro Mondays - Galla

Galla shook her head. Her sister didn't know that they had arrived yet, so there was no reason to wait for her. It wasn't necessary for her to care about it. In any case, they would be seeking her big sister out later in the day. Gratia would likely be elated by her parents' presence.

"I'm waiting for my parents."

She didn't know how long they would take. The sixteen year old girl didn't really care. Even if there was no specified time, she could continue waiting until her parents freed themselves from the grasp of the city.

Gren watched and waited when he heard Sapphire call out to him. He was somewhat surprised to see that she had brought family here, and wanted to introduce them to him. He had half thought she would have instead warned her family of the ogre who lived at her school and eats children. That and he was slightly embarrassed as he was hardly wearing his best clothes: he wore faded jeans, dirty brown boots, and a ragged black long sleeve as this was what he wore when he worked. It wasn't his armor because he wasn't expecting any explosions like if he was working on his jet pack.

Still no sense in being shy now. Gren bowed his head as Sapphire’s family. He would have extended his hand if he wasn't carrying things. “Hello! Nice to meet y'all. Gren Orchid, the big guy in the team. Well, other big guy. I never knew you had a sister Sapphire!” Gren casually commented. He tried to put on a friendly facade even if he doesn't particularly like Sapphire: no sense in being rude in front of her family. “Sapphire is our Team Leader, if she hasn't told you before. You should hear some of the things we've done together, you'd be quite impressed.” Not entirely a lie. It mostly relies on Sapphire’s own storytelling, as far as Gren was concerned his last few missions have ended… Poorly. Successfully, but poorly.

Gren worried that he was starting to run out of things to talk about when Emerald arrived and got Gren’s attention. Hopefully he could use this opportunity to excuse himself. “Emerald! Glad you showed up, I was worried I’d have to find you. Yeah I got your weapons done, though I only had one issue.” Gren faced Emerald and presented her two pairs of her gauntlets. “I kinda forgot if you wanted the rocket launchers for each arm or only when you combine them. See, if you have a rocket launcher in each arm that’s pretty much double the firepower, but you might find your weapons a bit heavier than usual. The combined form is much lighter, but you’d have to switch between your shotgun and your rocket launcher form separately. I made two for you just in case you wanted to give them a try before you make a final decision. They’re just the Mark 2, so once you feel comfortable with one just find me again and I can work out any kinks you may have found.”

Turning back to Sapphire and her family Gren bowed once more. “My apology. I’m something of a craftsman as well. I was actually here looking for Emerald and Skyra to deliver their equipment. I’d love to stay and chat, but I must finish some business before it’s too late. It was nice meeting all of you! If you’ll excuse me…” Gren then turned back to Emerald, still holding onto her weapons as he was speaking. He motioned towards the workshop where it was less crowded. “If you’d like, we can test your weapons at the firing range. Hopefully the ensuing explosions would also attract Skyra.”

@Abillioncats@Prince of Seraphs

Parents.

The word, for some reason, made her think. She thought about her parents, and who they were. Her parents, who she never met for the entirety of her life, even though their traces showed that they did not hate her.

She never recalled ever having the permission to say the words “mother” and “father” in any way. It was as if they never existed, even though she knew they did.

Some parents were not nice, but many of the ones she saw were polite or dedicated to making their children lives’ happier.

Nodding, the red snake turned to the skies with an expression softer than before.

“I’m… waiting for… a friend…”

@Crimmy

@NarayanK

Mindaro Mondays - Galla

"Is that so."

Galla watched as the redhead next to her turned back to the skies once more, before silently pulling her unblinking gaze away as well. She was already retrieving her folded-up newspaper, spreading it open to a random pair of pages. It was a Valic tabloid she had obtained for free on the airship ride from Mistral. There was little distinction between the material it contained and that of papers from her native city, only differing in the coverage of local affairs. Her hazel eyes glanced down at the familiar black ink of the printed words, taking in the information that the newspaper sought to provide her. They were covering local affairs.

It was irrelevant to her. There was no necessity for her to learn of events that would have little effect in Mistral.

It didn't really matter.

When Robert finally left the hospital room he had called home the past couple days, the first thing he did was stretch out his limbs. A couple cracks could be heard from his joints as he moved around, but nothing at all out of the ordinary. Once he'd finished, the boy turned to Sand who appeared to have been patiently waiting for him by the door like she had said she would do. "Hey, sorry for taking so long. The nurse liked to drone on about how to not injure myself so much and to make sure to keep future wounds clean so they aren't infected again," he said, obviously not having much interest in the what they had to say. "So how do I look?"

Considering how before he'd been admitted to Beacon's medical wing, the redhead had been caked in both blood and dirt, before being wrapped in enough bandages to make a mummy jealous with antibiotics pumped into his system almost constantly, Robert actually looked pretty good. In fact, he appeared completely normal, as if the mission had never even occurred. The shrapnel was too small to leave any visible wounds after the past couple days of healing, the scar left from the beowolves' slash across his chest was hidden beneath his shirt, and the mark left behind by the sharp rock that had struck him in the head was hidden by his bangs. All visible wounds left behind by the Taking of Fort Jaegar appeared absent. "Probably like crud still right? At least I feel a lot better. Chest still aches from those broken ribs though."

@Lazo