Luke Schwarz

"......"

Eh? Teachers? We?

W-Was I being played with here? There was no way on earth someone who looked so young...

And yet, underneath the surly, serious gaze that almost was a glare, I found no hint of good humor or mischief. As somebody who regularly experiences the receiving end of such motivations, I knew what to look for, which only made things more disconcerting when I found none present at all.

She wasn't messing with me. I needed to find a way to reconcile this in my head, because that displeased reaction was way too earnest to be her acting.

Was this like a grad student situation? Could she maybe be a really youthful-looking upperclassman of mine? Wait, no, she'd still count under Family Day in that case!

She was at least a fully-fledged Huntress. Her not being a student in any capacity was why she couldn't call up her family to come see her. These were the immutable facts of the matter, based off of what she herself had just told me.

In hindsight, that certainly explained her getup...

"Er... Sorry."

I didn't know what else to say.

@HereComesTheSnow

Teàrlag Cirsium - "Student Counselor", Armoury

That's basically the surprise I've come to expect whenever I correct anyone who's buggered up my age (see: pretty much everybody). It's the striking down of his surface-level impressions and assumptions, and as a result his brain's frantically trying to justify that what I said was untrue. Nope, sorry brat, but I'm a decade or so your senior and also one of those folks in charge of marking your essays, teaching you supposedly useful life skills, and doing general counselling stuff to make sure your mental health is at 100%. You might think I'm lying, but you're not gonna be able to get too flapped up about that; there's an ID in my wallet too if you're all doubting and need more evidence. Can't really blame the kid though; if I was in his position, I'd think the stuff coming out of me gob was all woppers too, and you know, being told that you're wrong's humiliating. Your brain hates that, so you try and come up with all sorts of justifications.

It could've been easily avoided if we humans didn't rely so strongly on perceiving what we see first as our absolute truth, but unfortunately, that's a pipe dream.

At least the kid knows how to apologise. Some of the folks who get my age wrong don't bother with that. That's gold star-worthy, but I don't think I'm taking any of your classes right now (I'd probably learn to recognise that long cowlick pretty quickly), so that mark counts for bugger-all for your assessments.

I wave off his worry. "It's fine," I say, trying to smile reassuringly at him. I'm not much of a smiling person, as people can testify to. None of mine are particularly genuine. A lot of smiles are just another part of somebody's façade, that mask they use to hide everything from others in the world. I have one of those as well, but I don't really do much smiling. Putting one on would just be lying. Still, I'm a teacher now, and as a teacher I have responsibilities. Even if I want to, I can't be all self-centred when I have a duty of care to all these brats who hang around me every day. If I don't be a good role model and follow all the regulations laid out in my contract, I'll be fired! It's in my self-interest to keep being a good teacher, you know?

"A lot of people get it wrong," I add. Need to explain to the brat that he hasn't annoyed me too much. It wouldn't be good if he's too scared to approach my office when he needs some help.

@Crimmy

Luke Schwarz

Miss Teàrlag...

I'm sorry, but your smiling needs a little work. You're still ticked off at me, aren't you? I'm really sorry, but you looked younger than I do! It wasn't as if she was a tiny as Cian or something, but still...

If a lot of people got it wrong, that had to grate on her. Like a rock in a stream, constantly getting worn down by annoyances and misjudgments. No matter how gracious you were, constantly having to correct people about something about you gets old...

Like my ahoge, huh?

"Must get annoying," I remarked. "In that case then, what class do you teach, Ma'am?"

I'm really sorry. I'll start taking you a little more seriously now.

However, if she was a teacher, that also meant my "goal" in talking to her fell through, as pathetic as it was to say. Being a tunnel vision, self-centered guy, I was unfortunately now at a bit of a loss with where to go from here. I hate to admit it, but for once I had a reason to be talking to someone beyond my own inability to shut up. And now that reason was rendered invalid.

I mean.

It certainly wasn't like I could ask her to take time away from her responsibilities as faculty to teach me about polearm usage...

@HereComesTheSnow

Teàrlag Cirsium - "Student Counselor", Armoury

I let out a small sigh. It really does get annoying, being mistaken for just another brat. And even when I've corrected them on how old I am, just being seen as some wee, fresh-faced lassie means that it's harder for people to take me, and my opinions, as seriously as they should. It's not like my opinions are really worth that much, but even so it's bloody frustrating having the few suggestions I throw out sometimes dismissed simply because of some superficial assumption about the strength of my ideas based on how I look. Being eternally youthful in appearance sounds pretty wizard at first, but don't fall for their lies, it's a real bugger to deal with. I wouldn't have this problem if I looked more Goodwitch's ... age? I dinnieken how old that woman is at all, but at least she doesn't look like a quine.

Anyway, this Luke brat.

"I'm the student counselor," I say. Well, that's not all I do, you know? But it's probably the part of the job description that he'll need to deal with the most. We're vapid creatures, and if it doesn't apply to us, we just don't give a damn about it. It's a shame, but in the end you just need to deliver the most relevant information first. "I teach about Dust Applications too."

Luke Schwarz

!

Wait, hold on a second! I didn't see that on the registrar at all, what gives? That actually sounded like a really useful course to take!

Especially for me, too. The more I could understand how to properly utilize Dust, the more ground I could make up in my lost training time. I could get closer to actually being on-level with everyone else. I could say with certainty that it would have been close to the top of the list of classes to register for, at any rate.

Damn, now I really wanted to get to the bottom of that.

"Dust Apps... Is that a second-year level class, or something? I don't remember seeing it when I registered coming in."

Could I switch something out for it, maybe?

I was probably going to end up spending at least another week in Armory to get this Lucerne made...

Well, thinking about it like that was running before I walk, wasn't it? I was getting ahead of myself before she even answered me. Ugh. I know I have a problem with being overly cautious, but overcorrecting into leaping before I looked was probably even worse of a direction to take things.

Maybe I needed to see her as a counselor before trying to work my way into having her as a teacher. At this rate, I probably needed both sorts of help...

Sand stared off into the obstacle course, eyes fixed on one of the several mechanical components the organizer had set up. The machine had a rhythmic, distracting movement that reminded her of the swing of a pendulum.

A stout man trying to squeeze through the seats broke her reverie, and she glanced to the side to see Allen sit down beside her with a plate filled with assorted foodstuffs. His hand fell on her arm, and she paused, suddenly startled. She had been trailing the irregular path of an old scar on the palm of her right hand without noticing. Sand clasped her hands instead, looking at the pale hand that rested against her darker skin. A few years ago, the sight might have made her melancholic, but now she simply appreciated the contrast with a curious look. Allen gave her a soft pat and withdrew his hand.

They had reached Beacon’s outdoors Athletic center only a few minutes ago, the pair leaning their heads close to each other to trade a year’s worth of accumulated barbs. She had pulled him away from the rest of the group then, leaving Trad, Sepia and their families behind as the speaker’s announced the beginning of the race. Truth be told, Sand wanted to keep Allen to herself. At least until he turned unbearable.

“What about betting on who wins the race?” This from the man sitting close to her.

“We don’t even know who’s running,” Sand commented. Students still hadn’t lined up at the starting line, despite the initial call from the speakers. She suspected they were allowing a few extra minutes for late participants.

“You don’t need to know who’s running to bet on who wins.” Allen gave her a look that said she had failed to understand something obvious. “I could bet on your green friend. Or that Sepia girl.”

If they were even allowed to join the race at this stage. “You’re shooting for long odds,” she drawled.

“I could bet on you winning.”

“I wouldn’t say no to free money.”

Allen leaned forward, hand on chin and elbow propped up on his leg. “You’re really not running, then?”

What tipped you off? was the biting reply that came to mind, but she swallowed the words. Instead, she gave the gathering crowd a cursory inspection and grimaced. She was not particularly intent on putting on a show if she could avoid it. There were other reasons that came to mind. More prominent ones, at that, but she dared not bring them up with Allen next to her.

The man seemed to guess at the surface of her thoughts and laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed? And here I thought your time at Atlas might make you more outgoing.”

Sand glanced away, exasperated. She couldn’t help but flush guiltily if he of all people pointed it out so readily. Still, her tone came out neutral. “I’d rather not work during a holiday.”

“Hah. If this is work to you, I should rest easy!” Allen laughed good-naturedly, patting her back.

Sand shook under the weight of his arm and faked the half-smile she knew he’d expect of her, but the mirth did not quite reach her eyes. He had just admitted that she worried him, after all, and that was the larger reason for her reluctance.

"Thank you so much, Robbie," Priscilla shouted as she wrapped her arms around him, almost causing the boy to drop the cotton candy and soda that he had just bought for her. As her lips pressed against his cheek in a grateful kiss, the boy's cheeks brightened to almost match the color of his girlfriend's hair.

Robert responded at first with an embarrassed chuckle, still not completely used to being showered in affection, before telling her, "It's no big deal. Besides, I got quite a bit of Lien from that last mission my team was on, so a bit of food and drinks for my adorable girlfriend are nothing."

The pink haired girl smiled before kissing Robert again, this time across the lips instead. Taking the cotton candy and soda from him afterward, she pulled off a small piece of the sugary sweet and enjoyed the feeling of it melting in her mouth. "So what's this about a new team? Did they really find a replacement for Grayson, Daniel, and me that fast?" she asked before sipping on her carbonated drink.

"Oh yeah! I completely forgot to introduce you guys. Yeah, after you and the guys disappeared they ended up making me the leader of a new team with Trad, Grane, and... Delta," he replied, looking down at the ground as he remembered the classmate who he failed to save. "Anyway, after how badly I screwed up, they brought Sand onto to the team so we cou- Sand! Shoot, I'm such an idiot."

Grabbing Priscilla's wrist without so much as an explanation, Robert began to drag her along the school grounds to search for the teammate he had unceremoniously ditched to hang out with his girlfriend instead. It was an exceptionally inconsiderate thing for him to do and he needed to apologize for it or else it'd haunt him for the rest of his life.

"Robbie, slow down," Priscilla told him, barely keeping up with the boy's long strides.

Several minutes would pass, but with how quickly Robert was sprinting down the halls, narrowly dodging in between groups of students and their families, he would find the bronze-skinned girl chatting with someone he would immediately assume to be her father in the gym where the race would be held. "Sand!" he shouted to get her attention before skidding to a stop. The boy wouldn't immediately speak as he tried to catch his breath from the marathon he had just ran around the campus. "Sand, I wanted..." he began, stopping to inhale and exhale. "To say I'm..." Inhale, exhale. "Sorry..." Inhale, exhale. "For ditching you earlier." One last long breath and he finally found his voice again. "That was really rude and impolite of me and I wanted to let you know that I feel really, really bad about it. I hope you can forgive me."

Meanwhile, the pink haired girl he had ditched her for earlier and had dragged with him on his quest for forgiveness, seemed to be staring daggers at Sand, crossing her arms in front of her defiantly. "So who's this?" she asked, the unmistakable sound of jealousy behind in her tone, one that would go right over her boyfriend's head.

"This is Sand, one of my teammates," he replied matter-of-factly.

"You didn't say she was a girl."

"Does it matter?" Robert asked, confused as to why she was bothered by it.

@Lazo @Awesomoman64 @Nytem4re

The idle chatter between Sand and Allen was interrupted by someone crying out the girl’s name. Sand glanced up, startled, to see Robert racing up to them.

“Sand!”

Robert stopped before them and paused, winded. Sand and Allen exchanged a look, but before she decided to ask what was wrong, Robert haltingly spoke up. Sand frowned as the boy apologized, searching her memory for whatever he was talking about.

“Oh.” It took her a moment to remember, and when she did, she looked at him, bemused. “Don’t worry about it.”

Certainly, Robert just leaving when he did without a word of thanks or goodbye had roused a twinge of annoyance, but it was nothing to get so worked up about. Not to mention, back then that other girl had been waiting for him in front of the room and—

It was then that she realized that very same girl was there looking somewhat winded herself. There was little doubt in her mind that Robert had suddenly dragged her off with him when he decided to apologize, and isn’t that something you’d be better off saying sorry for? But rather than being directed to Robert, the girl’s hostile regard was focused entirely on Sand. She found it rather irritating, truth be told.

Do I know you? she wanted to ask, but something told her she would be better off being diplomatic.

“So, who’s this?” the girl asked, clearly referring to her.

"This is Sand, one of my teammates."

"You didn't say she was a girl," she answered, and Sand realized that while she did not know the pink-haired girl, the pink-haired girl certainly knew her. She’d likely made up a whole story in her head the moment she had laid eyes on her.

Sand had to suppress a sigh. When she had thought that her life looked like it was turning into a romantic comedy, it was meant as a joke. Allen had been smiling knowingly besides Sand since he noticed the girl glaring at her, but at that he could feel his grin widening. And why not? Joke or not he had told Trad’s parents something very similar only a few minutes ago.

"Does it matter?" Robert asked, and Sand found herself thinking that it was ironic how such an oblivious person could also be so self-conscious.

“Oh boy,” Allen mouthed, sucking air in a wince. He picked up his plastic cup from besides him and pushed it up to the boy’s hands. “Have some water kid. Looks like you need it.” If he was trying to shut Robert up, she would have to thank him later.

Sand looked at Robert and his girl and gave them what she hoped looked like a pleasant smile and not a pained grimace. “Sorry you had to come in a hurry. This here’s Allen,” she pointed to her side, hoping introductions would help smooth things over. Better than leaving them to Robert, she suspected. “Allen, this is Robert, one of the new teammates I told you about.”

“The one you walked out of the infirmary this morning, right?”

Sand looked at Allen, smile twitching and not quite reaching her eyes.

“Yep, she brought me muffins too. Sand’s a great teammate,” Robert replied to Allen, having no idea the hole he was digging under both of them. As he finally took a sip of the water he’d been handed, Sand wished he had swallowed the question with the drink.

“Muffins?!” Priscilla practically screeched before clutching onto Robert’s arm as if afraid he might be suddenly swept away, her nails almost digging into his skin. “Why the hell are you bringing my man breakfast?”

Allen was turned away, but she could feel him shaking. Trying to hold back laughter, the ass.

Sand’s smile turned exasperated. Something told her that if she even tried to apologize, the pink monster in front of her might take it as an admission of some kind. After a moment of silence in which she hoped the screaming girl had not attracted too much attention, her shoulders slumped in surrender. Choosing to face what was to come with a semblance of dignity, she put out a hand, offering to shake.

“I’m Sand,” she said simply, and kept out what she really wanted to say, You’ve got it wrong, please don’t murder me in my sleep.

@Guess Who

Luke Schwarz

!

Wait, hold on a second! I didn't see that on the registrar at all, what gives? That actually sounded like a really useful course to take!

Especially for me, too. The more I could understand how to properly utilize Dust, the more ground I could make up in my lost training time. I could get closer to actually being on-level with everyone else. I could say with certainty that it would have been close to the top of the list of classes to register for, at any rate.

Damn, now I really wanted to get to the bottom of that.

"Dust Apps... Is that a second-year level class, or something? I don't remember seeing it when I registered coming in."

Could I switch something out for it, maybe?

I was probably going to end up spending at least another week in Armory to get this Lucerne made...

Well, thinking about it like that was running before I walk, wasn't it? I was getting ahead of myself before she even answered me. Ugh. I know I have a problem with being overly cautious, but overcorrecting into leaping before I looked was probably even worse of a direction to take things.

Maybe I needed to see her as a counselor before trying to work my way into having her as a teacher. At this rate, I probably needed both sorts of help...

Teàrlag Cirsium - "Student Counselor", Armoury

"It's not that popular of an elective," I reply. Dust might be the thing that keeps the gears of society running all smooth and squeaky-like (see: all our petty concerns and ambitions), but not many of the brats here really care for doing a generalised course on stuff they probably already know. It's a real shame, but it isn't surprising to know that the kids think Dust Apps is boggin for them. They come into Beacon with their heids fully conked with the all the information they need about Dust: how to use it, how it factors into their personal fighting styles, and possibly where to get Dust for cheap off some Atlesian folks who hopefully don't have a pet Faunus. The nitty-gritty of their hunting's not something they really need to know, so unless they want to bludge and bugger around for easy marks, you won't see many of the brats sitting in my class.

That's why the rooms look so barren. But even if there's not many kids wanting to do the course, it's better than having a couple of dunderheads fool around with no genuine desire to learn. Don't think you're the only one who wants to enjoy themselves, brats. Some of the other students in the class might actually want to get their head around Dust and how it's used, and if you're just going to be guddling about effortlessly, you should just bloody leave.

Leave the classroom to those who want to actually try and get their heads around it. Getting the hang of Dust and all its manifold applications isn't something you can just dismiss as unimportant, you know? Maybe you can run your gobs off about the thing easily, but these brats can't. They'll only be distracted by your shenanigans when they really want to learn. Just because you're still a brat doesn't mean you can ignore the fact that your actions have consequences.

Even if I might not be a shining example of a good teacher, even a bit of the help I can give might do something for those kids.

"Are you interested then?" I ask, turning my attentions back to the cowlick-bearing brat in front of me. It's not like I'm at all trying to grab another student or anything, but it'd be wizard if there were more kids in the class. Just to fill the spots, you know?

---

Shuai Taidan - Beacon Grounds

If one were to wander the grounds of Beacon Academy on this lavishly exciting day, they would notice that, beyond the minor number of strange elements (also known as parents) that now dotted the school, there was a rather remarkable contraption pitter-pattering along through the halls and fields, one which seemed to emanate the smell of food wherever it went. It would not be too far-fetched, then, to assume that this mysterious wooden object, a boxy thing on clattering wheels, was not exactly a permanent fixture of the schoolyard. For one thing, it was far too shoddily-built, or at least purchased from a sketchy back-alley store, and had it consistently been present during the term, one would expect that the bright smile plastered onto the cheerful young man with a twirling cowlick leading it around would have disappeared long ago.

Of course, given that said cheerful young man was Shuai Taidan, the resident prettyboy pyromaniac of Team KNVS, it was also highly likely that his million-kilowatt smile would have merely intensified over time.

"Cheap food for sale!" he cried out to anybody willing to listen, slender hands cupped around his mouth in a manner not dissimilar to a megaphone. He, in his resplendent cosplayer glory, appeared to be dressed in a waiter's outfit (his first suggestion having been unanimously struck down by his teammates), a choice of clothes that was rather befitting the strange plot that KNVS had concocted for the day. "Hurry and get your, uh, what are we cooking again Varius?"

The cart, now stationary, contained more than simply the hopes and dreams of an opportunity for Taidan to dress up; in fact, it appeared to be a team effort, with all of KNVS united in a quest to take advantage of the consumerist natures of parents and the festive atmosphere to make money through food. For that reason, Varius had been tasked with cutting things, likely with the large amount of knives possessed by the other member of the boyband team.

That didn't mean they knew exactly what recipes they were specialising in, although there was a smell of fish present.

@Sho Minazuki

@Crimmy

Luke Schwarz

"Well, now that I know about it, I'm fairly sure I am." I replied. "It actually sounds right up the alley of what I'm needing to work on."

Practical knowledge.

Understanding of tools.

Focus on usage.

While Language seemed to have somehow supplanted Math as my one saving grace in terms of grades, these qualities were what I should be looking for in my course selection process. Writing passably and shuffling numbers around, while still useful, more than likely took a back seat to knowing the ins-and-outs of the most common energy source and weaponry modification on the planet.

In purely pragmatic terms, it would make much more sense to enroll in it than one of those. I don't mean to become even less of an intellectual than my current sorry state, but there was no getting around the fact—

This is what I was here to learn.

And learn I needed to, with every bit of speed that my mind could muster.

"Although, I'd be stupid if I didn't ask this now: What level of prerequisite knowledge do I need?"

There was only so much a guy could retain from a six month cram session, compared to years of training and information one built up in a combat school or the like.

If I enrolled and set a course that could only lead in crashing and burning, I'd probably suffer everywhere else and become a complete lost cause. If there was one thing that needed constant maintenance, it was momentum.

After eating a hearty amount of the food provided, the Oaks claimed their seats to spectate the race. They had broken away from Sepia and her parents not long after Sand and Allen left. They had only met this morning so there wasn’t much need to stay together, and finding seating at the race would be difficult for a larger group.

”Trad. How come you didn’t sign up for the race?” Fern asked as the three got settled in their chairs.

”Speed and agility... Aren’t really my things.” Trad replied thinking back to his pitiful run at the obstacle course on his first day. ”As the team tank I focus more on stuff like strength and defense.”

”And it’s clearly paid off!” Blad remarked eyeing Trad’s arm. ”What do you bench now six? Six fifty?”

A smug smile crept over Trad’s face ”Maybe on my off days.”

While the Oak boys talked about lifting, Fern spotted two familiar faces in the crowd. ”Hey, Trad. Isn’t that Sand and Allen over there? Who are they talking too?”

”Oh! That’s one of my other teammates Robert. And it looks like Priscilla is with him. Huh, I thought she left the school.” Trad wondered as he watched his friends interacting. Something was off though. The way Priscilla was looking at Sand seemed almost hostile, and Allen looked almost uncomfortable being there.

”Uh-oh. I know that look. That girl thinks the other is moving in on her territory. Might want to go help your friends out before either makes the situation worse.” Blad suggested to his son.

”I don’t know. Might be best to just let them sort this out on their-”

“Muffins?! Why the hell are you bringing my man breakfast?”

”I’ll be back.” Trad said getting out of his seat.

”Good luck” Blad called out leaning back in his seat before realizing his wife was now giving him a stare similar to Priscilla. ”What?”

”What do you mean ‘I know that look.’ You saying I get jelous?”

”No. I’m just saying I’ve seen that look a few times before?”

”When?”

”Well right now for instance”

”Before now.”

”There was that time I gave the neighbor a ride home.”

”Margret’s a floozy and everyone knows it! And it’s not like you haven’t had that look at other guys before.”

”When have I ever-”

Shaking his head Trad left for his teammates while his parents continued their bickering. Pushing through the crowd he arrived just in time to see Sand extending her hand in an effort to make peace. ”Hey, everything alright over here?”

@Guess Who@Lazo

@Crimmy

"The food may be cheap, but I can assure you it is of the finest quality and preparation", he responded, proceeding to start cutting up raw fish into neat slices, expertly slicing away the skin and separating the bones to ensure the maximum amount of meat.

"Sashimi, and sushi", he finished. A chef that had visited his house once while he was at home had agreed to teach him the skills necessary.

He was suited up in a proper chef's attire, but it was notably of oriental origin. If he was going to do something, he always sought to do it right and proper. The fish was all prepared by him, despite what he had said too, the supply was from the fish market in town, so it wasn't the finest quality available, just good quality, and most of all fresh. In short, he was really getting into this, and seemed quite serious.

Priscilla extended her hand to complete the shake with Sand, though there was no real strength behind it, her hand almost limp in the girl’s hand. “I’m Priscilla. Robert’s girlfriend,” she replied, her intense glare not faltering for even a moment.

Sand thought she could just about hear the thoughts behind the stare. And then this bitch over here, Sandy or whatever her name is, admitted to bringing Robbie, the bestest boyfriend a girl could ever have, muffins. Muffins! Homewrecker thinks she can take my man away from me? We'll see about that.

What also showed no signs of wavering was Robert’s obliviousness to the hostility in front of him. “I’m glad you two are getting along so well. Anyway, I was just introducing her to everyone else on the team so we’ll be off to go find Grane and—Trad! Hey there, buddy!” the boy said, almost getting out of his classmate’s hair if not for the untimely arrival of their team’s respective tank. “Yeah, we were just looking for you actually. Have you met Priscilla yet?”

“Not formally,” Trad said, holding his hand out to the pink haired girl. “It’s good to meet you. Are you sure everything’s alright?” he asked glancing between Robert and Sand. Robert’s tone seemed to suggest everything was fine, but the two girls still didn’t look at ease.

While Priscilla accepted Trad’s greeting with much less glaring and a much more firm handshake, Robert answered for everyone. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

His back was turned toward Sand and Allen now, so he did not notice the mischievous glint in the man’s eye as he commented “There’s Sand’s gay friend again.” Completely shameless, and likely that was fine by him. He was not the one who had to live with the trained monster killers.

Trad blinked. “What.”

Robert blinked in confusion as well as he turned back to Allen, tilting his head. “What’s gay mean?” he asked.

Allen’s eyes blazed with the same realization Sand had had not too long ago. He’d struck gold. “Cheerful, kid. It means cheerful,” he offered amiably enough.

“Oh… so because I’m happy right now… I’m gay?” he asked, putting two and two together and getting the conclusion the man was hoping for.

Trad had no words. Not only had Allen’s comment caught him off guard, but as he turned to correct him, Robert asked what gay meant. How. Just, how did he not know? At this point he had two options: explain the meaning of gay Allen meant and completely embarrass Robert for his statement, or roll with what would be the most hilarious thing ever. “Well… He’s not wrong.”

Seeing what was going on and being much more knowledgeable about the world than her boyfriend, Priscilla would attempt to correct Robert and tell him the more commonly used meaning of the word. “Robbie, no. It means-”

“No, son,” Allen said with uncharacteristic solemnity. “You’re not. It’s a way of life.”

“Sooooo… you're saying that I need to be gay more often than just the here and now. Like I need to be gay twenty-four seven. All the time,” the innocently naive boy stated.

Trad had to turn away at this point. Putting his fist over his mouth he tried to hold back the laughter that was fighting to come out. Sure this would probably come back to bite him for not saying anything to clear his name, but this was a golden opportunity that was worth it. He just didn’t know how soon that would be.

“I’m a new transfer. Trad’s been in Robert’s team for longer.” Trad almost didn’t hear it when Sand spoke up, such was the effort it took him not to laugh at Robert’s expense, but he did, and it occurred to him that her amiable tone sounded awfully fake.

“He’s the one who gets along best with Robert in the team.” He turned to look at her, suddenly wary. She was addressing Priscilla, but glanced at him at that moment such that he could see the nasty gleam in the eye of someone who was about to take a fall but wanted someone else go down with them. “Why, he just about carted him to the infirmary himself! Was the first to visit too. A very loyal man, right there.”

In many respects, the look Trad gave her was identical to the one she herself had given Allen only moments ago. Allen, for his part, was still trying to contain his own shaking.

In the space of a second, Priscilla’s expression had went from confused (what is she talking about?), to disbelieving (no way, he got together with me didn’t he?), and finally settled on a comically concerned frown (but what if while I was gone…).

As for Robert, he made like a lemming and ran for the cliff. “That’s right. I was pretty banged up after all of the explosions, the swarms of Grimm, and being thrown off the cliff. I don't think I would have made it had Trad and Sand not rushed to get me into bed.”

“Robert, when you were in bed, you didn’t happen to have your clothes off did you?” Priscilla asked, thinking that this question would clear things up and help her figure out what they might have done.

Thinking back to how the doctors and nurses had undressed him to apply the various bandages to his wounds, Robert nodded his head with a smile. “Of course. Isn’t that normal?”

Priscilla smiled and nodded. “Of course it’s—Bwuh!?”

Allen, who had largely steadied himself by then, seemed more baffled than amused at that. “He’s got to be doing that on purpose!” he blurted out.

Sand shook her head. From this last blunder she quickly realized that her teasing might result in unintended casualties. Good thing Priscilla had been stunned into silence by Robert’s nonchalance, or she might not had had time to cut in.

“The doctors had to undress him to treat him​,” she said, voice taut and harsher than she had wanted. “The boy’s dense, not cruel. Trust him a little for crying out loud.”

“What else could I have meant by that?” Robert asked, feeling left out.

“You—” Priscilla didn’t offer an answer, giving Sand an unhappy look instead. “I—” she started again, but the words died in her throat. Her brow furrowed, and she glanced away as if trying to gather her thoughts. A moment later, she turned back to the oblivious Robert. “Robbie… can we talk? Alone.”

The boy shrugged, not understanding why she wanted to make the conversation private all of a sudden, but seeing no harm in it either. “Sure. Why not?” he responded, following her away from the athletic center so they wouldn’t need to worry about anyone eavesdropping.

Sand watched them go. She had begun tracing a finger over the palm of her right hand again. Whatever amusement she had derived from the show had soured at the end. “How did that one ever make team leader?” she asked incredulously.

“Maybe they gave him too much credit and thought him a born actor,” Allen said.

“To be fair, he was appointed over a different group.” Trad responded watching the couple walk away. “Their situation might have called for a leader like him. Or maybe that's just my blind loyalty and love for him talking,” he added sarcastically​ turning to Sand with an annoyed glare.

“Must be,” she agreed absentmindedly.

Further complaints were drowned out by Allen’s sudden guffaw.

Cian felt her eye twitch upon hearing the question on if she could use it. She was proud of her weapon not to mention the hours of training so she could master each of the forms making sure she knew the ins and outs of each weapon till she could dismantle the entire weapon blindfolded! "Yes I can use all the forms my weapon has." She replied her voice clenching with restrained anger the unintentional blow to her pride was one she hated but she needed to learn to let it go. She was shaking in her rage before she felt a firm hand on her shoulder forcing her down. "Calm yourself and introduce me to this new arrival" She heard Tristan say before she looked and saw Jack standing there "This is Jack hes part of my team." Cian said before putting byakko away as she exhaled. "So Jack enjoying the day? Also should introduce you this Tristain he is my guradian and older brother figure of sorts."
@Crimmy@HereComesTheSnow@Sho Minazuki

Beacon, early Monday Morning

Keep your Enemies close...and your Family closer

A shadow descended on Beacon.

A small, noisy shadow, cast by a pair of figures, one holding the other under his arm, who swooped down out of the sky to rest on a building.

"Putmedownputmedownputmedown." the little one demanded.

"Hush, Ki-ki. You'll wake the whole school with your squaking." The older one said.

"I don't like heights... Ki muttered.

"Don't worry, you are perfectly safe with me. Besides, you'll need to learn to get over your fear one day. Who ever heard of a bird faunus afraid of heights before?"

"But its scary."

He sighed. "Nevermind, we've been over this before."

The man shaded his eyes and looked around. "Er...how are we going to find him? I didn't expect the campus to be so...big. This Family day thing is a school-wide event, maybe we could ask..." He trailed off, frowned and looked down at his sister.

"You aren't even paying attention are you?"

Ki glaced up from the piece of fluff she held that had been staring intently at. "Caw?"

"I give up. We'll just wing it." He chuckled as he stepped off the building.

"Li, your puns are terribeeeeeeeeek!" Ki's complaint transformed into a terrified squeak and she covered her eyes as the ground rushed up to meet them.

---

Ferris awoke to the feeling that he was falling.

Which was quite appropriate because he was. Off his bed.

"Wah!"

*Thunk*

"Urgh, owww."

Ferris lay groaning on the floor where he had fallen, still half asleep and woozy, waiting for the room to stop spinning. The unreasonably bright and cheery sunlight streaming through the window cheerfully assaulted his eyes, making him scowl and wince in pain. Through a pounding headache, Ferris struggled to pull together a coherent thought, but his head felt like someone had stuffed it with fuzz then smashed it repeatedly with baseball bat wrapped in cloth. What happened again? He wondered, his thoughts slow as molasses. With some difficulty he came to a belated conclusion. Oh yeah...I think...maybe I had too much...to drink.

The universe stubbornly refused to establish a fixed point so with another groan, Ferris attempted climb to to his feet anyway. The room didn't seem to like that, it heaved beneath his feet. His balance wobbled, and he instinctively thust out a hand to steady himself against his bed. His Gauntlet swung through empty air as his bed abruptly skittered away from him. With one last heave, the floor succeeded in toppled him over, and it gleefully caught him with a clang and a thump.

Ferris decided that laying there for a little bit longer was a good idea.

Eventually, the room ground to a halt, evidently tired of its game, and with a titanic effort, Ferris managed to stand. He scowled around the room at his team, mentality daring someone to laugh, which he would respond with by doing his best to glare them to death.

Then he eyed his next task: the stretch of floor from his bed to the bathroom. He staggered across, one step at a time. Any attempt to speak to him or offer help would be met with another of his deadly glares and some colorful advice on where they could shove their help, and how far it would go.

He was, perhaps, a bit grumpy. Ferris reflected, although he had no intention of changing that.

I feel like crap He thought. In the bathroom he was confronted with a haggard figure glaring back at him from the mirror. His eyes were half open, blearily and bloodshot, his hair a mess, and his face already showing a shadow of stubble. He was stooped over, slouching like a hunchback. I look like crap.

Ferris pawed through several bottles before coming up with some medicine, specifically bought by him for circumstances like this. He violently twisted off that damn irritating cap, poured out a couple, and tossed them back, disdaining water. He cruched them as he turned to shut the door. Moments later, water could be heard rushing through the pipes as he turned on the shower.

Fifteen minutes later, he emerged from the shower feeling almost human again.

Almost. One thing was lacking.

He emerged with a towel around his waist, ignoring his team, and the slightly awkward situation with lofty contempt. Obviously, he had to get some clean clothing. He retreated once more, only to subsequently appear dressed in a more casual outfit.

"Coffeeeeee." He moaned, zombie-like, only half joking. Spotting his Scroll where he had thrown it last night, he picked it up and checked the time.

Perfect, they should still be serving breakfast--and coffee.

On the way out, he grabbed his coat, hesitated, then grabbed Damocles too. He put on his coat and tucked his gunblade though his belt. A cynical person might find some significance in Ferris purposely going armed to family day.

Good thing I'm not cynical. Ferris thought.

"Are you two coming or not?" He asked over his shoulder as he was walking out the door.

@Caasicam@SuperCustodiam (@Plank Sinatra?)

Amaranth's mind, meanwhile, had shifted into damage control. She'd hidden a lot of their more incriminating stuff out of reflex and old habit while she was getting ready, but she'd never matched her skill against someone with the obvious experience and dogged determination of Lauren's family. And somehow, she knew she was going to lose.

If there was any solace in this situation, it was that they weren't looking for her stuff. That was a silver lining that truly had its own dark cloud, since Lauren's stuff was likely more incriminating than hers--that was something of an odd situation for her to be in, to be sure--but at least they likely wouldn't be any more suspicious of her than they already were for wearing Lauren's jacket. Sangue's movement caught her a little off-guard, but a soft smile spread across Amy's face as she watched Sangue's hand go up to join the ruffling party.

Her attention turned to Ben, looking her captain over with a slightly more wicked smile than the one she'd regarded Sangue with.

He's enjoying this too much.

You should probably break his balls, her shoulder devil said.

Weird. The shoulder devil looked more like a certain teammate of hers than she was comfortable admitting.

"Oh, c'mon Ben. Some of that stuff might be yours. You're the one who went to the bar with her last weekend."

@Suku@HereComesTheSnow@Plank Sinatra@Sho Minazuki

Mindaro Mondays - A-Side

"I don't really wish to leave her waiting long if she's already searching," agreed the Mindaro matriarch, a quiet hmm leaving her as her expression shifted into a ponderous one. "But we wouldn't know where to start! If she already ran into Galla, we might already have a text, but I don't want to greet her by phone ..."

Her voice seemed to drift off, as if she was trying to take more time to think on what their course of action would be.

"She already knows we're coming, dear," supplied her husband, glancing up from the map and turning to face Severa, his feet now moving backwards to continue their progress. "Quasi infaisible to surprise her now."

A protesting tone entered Severa's voice. "I definitely did not wish to surprise her with our presence. Besides-" She glanced over at Jericho, smiling at him with warm eyes. "-She would be more surprised to see a friend attend the same school as her, non?"

Their steps had slowed to the stop. Before them, as expected from the highly detailed information on the map Valentinian was still grasping onto, was the door to Team Vignoble's dormitory, a plain and innocuous object that, despite its simple appearance, was the only border between them and the personal spaces of the residents inside. In the time that the group had been talking and walking, the Mindaro patriarch had led them to the rooms where Gratia would rest. For the girl's two parents, it was one of the places on the campus that they were most eager to visit. Even if their daughter wasn't present, they would still be able to see if Gratia was still taking care of herself well even so far from them.

Was her room neat and tidy? Did she remember to clean her clothes properly? What were her teammates like?

All information the two wanted to know about!

---

Mindaro Mondays - B-Side

Although she would have very much preferred to be commiserating with her little sister over anything else, it was still necessary for Gratia to acknowledge the remainder of the people gathered (besides Kuze). Their relevance to her was utterly miniscule, and had it been in any other situation, she would not have given a damn about who they were. However, they had sought to engage her and the younger Mindaro in conversation, so there was no other option but to respond. Her cool, onyx gaze watched them. For foolish members of the unwashed masses, they yet seemed irksome. Hopefully, that would not change.

The one that had addressed her was an entirely unknown figure to her. A complete stranger, which made his familiarity with her given name rather strange to her. The Mistralese girl would not have forgotten somebody with that utterly ridiculous hair. It was akin to some dagger protruding backwards from the top of his head. She may have encountered hair that defied logic elsewhere on campus, but unlike those strands, the blue thing on the boy's head looked to be the fucking start of a suicide bombing on a catwalk.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked flatly, her modulated cadence showing no sign of her focus on that hairstyle. Talking about fucking absurd hairstyles was something she could leave to later. What was more important was identifying this stranger (even if he was slightly familiar).

Kuze's protest passed her with little acknowledgement. No matter what the shorter Huntress may have claimed, the disappointing "battle" they had fought during that lacking sparring class had failed to convince her of ability with that weapon. It had utterly failed to satisfy her, and the penalisation given by Goodwitch still continued to be a rather irksome memory. However, that wasn't something she needed to care about right now. Indeed, there were more future opportunities to determine if Cian Kuze could be a satisfying eNEMy for her to battle in the fullest.

She needed to make the most of her time now with her family.

On that topic, however ...

Her eyes focused upon the strands of hair present on the two sisters. Black-haired, possessing a familiar air of tolerability ... the question from that other male Hunter only confirmed it. So it seemed that these were Luke's sisters.

They were a lot more fucking excitable than he was, that was for sure.

"Sure," said her own little sister from beside her in response to the Schwarz Sibling's proposition. Galla's tone showed no enthusiasm, but Gratia didn't expect to find any in the first place. The younger Mindaro was so dry of any care for the rest of the world to the point that a pillar was more emotional.

---

Teàrlag Cirsium - "Student Counselor", Armoury

"Do you know the basics, at least?" I ask. It's not normally a question you'd expect to ask of a brat trying to become a Huntsman, you know, but turns out that there have been folks admitted to this school without any basic knowledge at all! I was a pretty big idjit back when I was a wee lass too, but at least I knew how things functioned. Then again, I was from a family of Hunters. Not everyone in the world can have the same advantages in background, and no matter how integrated the use of Dust may be in society, there will always be those who just don't have the chance to approach Dust the same way. But it's not like that's an excuse if you're already in the bloody school. If you want to go hunting, you gotta at least know what Dust is, right?

You'd be a nincompoop not to.

@Suku@HereComesTheSnow@Crimmy

"Hmmm? That so huh?", he observed the man that Cian had identified as her guardian. Tristain he was called. He simply greeted the man back, "and I'm in charge of your charge while she is charged with her duty as a huntress, nice to meet ya Tristain". Jack's slight smile became wider as he greeted the older gentleman. He was distracted for a moment, as he was halted by memories of his mentor. If left alone he'll find himself sinking into thinking about his old home while everyone around him had family, so he was out here to see everyone else's. If he heard correctly the two young girls whom were identified as sisters, were also sisters to someone else under his charge, Luke. Considering how Luke usually is like, and how these sisters seemed to act, he can only imagine what these two, or three as a whole, deal with from each other on a day to day basis.

"And name's Jack", he responded to... Uhhh... Who was this? He only recognized the face, but she was definitely not someone he's worked with, more importantly she seemed to be looking intently at the blue blade in his hair.

"Oh that, that's natural... And you are?"

@Plank Sinatra @Kaithas @NarayanK

"Yep," Bastille's captain confirmed, giving a shrug and never once faltering in his grin. "Friday night. Went out to celebrate a job well done. Head hurt the next morning and I was down a tonfa, but I'd say it was worth it."

The wide smile he flashed Amy said without a need for words nice try, and he crossed his arms across chest nonchalantly. As far as he was concerned, it was way more incriminating that she had Lauren's jacket. If they knew anything about her then he was in the clear for the theft, and use, of his clothes. That was all Lauren.

"I don't remember betting away a shirt and jeans too," Here he gave Lauren an innocent smile. "But I guess I must have."

The door creaked open and Charon shuffled into the room, his eyes heavy, his hair wild, and his shoulders slouched. He glanced at Ferris and let out a audible yawn, and answered Ferris's question "Yeah I'll come. Let me find my hat and put some deodorant on first." And without much of a word he swiped his hat out from under the sheets of his bed, walked into the bathroom and sprayed some deodorant under his armpits and met Ferris at the door, chewing a piece of spearmint gum.

He yawned again, rubbing his eyes and spoke to Ferris, "Alright'y, I'm ready. I mean, I would like a shower, but if we're going to beat the rush, we 'best hop to than waiting 'round here. Besides, I will not miss breakfast two days in a row!"

"Besides," Charon opened the door and gestured to Ferris, "Someone also has to make sure you get there without passing out! It was not fun having to haul you the rest of the way back to Beacon, you know that?"

"Do you know how much fun it would be to toss you halfway across Vale?" Ferris growled as he walked out the door. "Hmph," Charon grunted in response, and followed him, "And don't get me started on how me and Andri had to sneak you into the school without any of the staff seeing you hammered through! I had such a terrible headache afterwards, that I couldn't sleep for more than a few hours!"

"I distinctly remember telling you we could get in through the window." Ferris sniffed. "At least then we could have avoided the cat." His expression turned thoughtful. "...who knew such a little thing could be so ferocious?"

"Oh I remember the window... It was 10 feet off the ground! Sure was easy getting you two up there and it was a whole 'nother beast getting the damn thing open!" Charon exclaimed.

Ferris shook his head, "Oh never mind. We are here, and I need coffee."

The two of them entered the Cafeteria, which much to Charon's delight, was way before the breakfast rush started. They got in line and grabbed some eggs and waffles with maple syrup and some ham. Ferris went over to get some coffee and Charon decided to go with him and get a cup of his own. They sat down at a clean table and dug into their food, and began to recover from the grogginess that clung to them both.

Charon was about to take a sip of his coffee, but he hesitated, holding it halfway up to his mouth. Ferris raised an eyebrow at him, as if he was trying to say Are you going to try it or what? with a mouth full of food. Charon reluctantly took a sip, and suppressed the need to gag, as the bitterness was overwhelming.

He then set the cup down, and looked at Ferris, who snickered at Charon's reaction "How do you and Adri' drink this stuff? I understand it like makes you rise from the dead and all that, but seriously, this stuff is worst than tea! And I'm trying really hard to like tea!"

@Crimson Raven