"No, Bianca. In Atlas we never take any operation too seriously. That's why we stopped after conquering half the world." Jericho didn't look up from packing his duffel bags - he had grabbed another when his first one started to look full - and stopped short, surveying what remained of his surprisingly deep stash of munitions. "Did you guys see me unpack a minigun?"

Luke Schwarz's strangled noise was confirmation that he must not have.

"God damn it. That means my clone has it." His words had devolved into the quiet ramblings of an obsessive compulsive boy who had misplaced something valuable. He stood up, restless, and paced back to his dresser. His chest holster was dropped onto his bed, and his original black t-shirt summarily pulled off over his head. He unconsciously rubbed the bandaged area on his left arm as he did so.

His new shirt looked almost identical to the first, especially when he put the chest holster back on, but only from the back. When he turned, even the size of the twin Manticores and the knife on his chest couldn't disguise the white block text that fearlessly spelled the title "LOCAL REGIME CHANGER RUINS EVERYTHING" across Jer's torso.

"Ready. Hey, Bianca." Jericho turned to face the owl Faunus, so that the message on his chest bored into her eyes, but when he picked up the Atlesian duffel bags - revealing the words "FOR USE ON FURRIES" - his voice was casual, almost gentle. "You're gonna do great. Just remember what we've worked on in Practice. I have earpieces in here for all of us if you need to keep in contact. Any of you."

He looked around at all of them. His mouth was set in a straight line, but its corners threatened to smile.

"We have a Waffletopia on Baron Street, back in Atlas, that we like to go to after missions. They do a discount if you show up whenever the sun is down or if you look like you're on ecstasy. It's pretty great, for food someone else makes. Do they have Waffletopia in Vale?"

...

"Do...you guys eat waffles?"

"Blood pressure is good, still underweight but I'd say you're much better off than you were. You're starting to actually look a bit healthier, though considering the state you were in when you arrived don't take that as an all clear to be reckless. I swear, whoever let you out of here last week-" The doctor shook her head as she continued looking over Skye's latest vitals.

"It wasn't their fault, ma'am. I was very insistent."

The tall girl sat hunched over, ears down under the withering gaze of the no-nonsense doctor assessing her health. She was already ashamed enough to have caused everyone so much trouble, her new friends, her team, and most especially the medical staff of the hospital. Following her first day of classes Skye had gone out into Vale with Ashe. Sometime during that she had hit her limit and stopped speaking, only barely responding verbally and with no real comprehension of the conversations themselves. Emotionally and mentally she had slipped into functioning at the bare minimum, only reacting to potential threats like Grimm or wild animals, of which there had been none. It was a state Skye had slipped into often when pushed past exhaustion. It had happened enough that she considered it normal, but apparently her condition had scared the shit out of Ashe. She had been brought straight to the hospital where, as she was disappointed to learn later, she had immediately been sedated.

"And I see here you are still refusing sleep aids." The silver haired doctor added, looking at Skye again over her glasses. "Young lady, before you argue this particular matter I will point out that an improvement from an average of two hours to four a day is hardly any improvement at all. As you are adamant about not taking the medication I cannot force you to take it, much as I wish I could. But I insist you reconsider that decision. Otherwise you're just going to end up here again and again and next time I may not be so easy to convince regarding your discharge. Do I make myself clear?"

"Y-yes ma'am!" Easy? She's kept me here almost the entire school week! I've missed all my classes, I'm even farther behind now, my team has been short a member all this time, and I might be late for the mission if this goes on any longer! If this is easy... "M-may I... go now?" She asked tentatively, afraid that she might still be denied discharge.

The doctor leaned back into her chair and sighed. "Well, I don't think it's a good idea, but you have made improvements. I'm not as worried about you falling over at any moment. Still, if you push yourself too hard you are going to get it from me, miss Skye."

Skye flinched and silently nodded that she understood.

"I hear you will be conducting missions today. I am definitely not happy about this but if you promise to rely on your teammates and pull out if it gets too dangerous, I will sign for your release. But so help me if you come back here a mess..."

"Y-yes ma'am, I pr- I-I... I will do as you say." She stuttered, unable to use the word that had first come to her tongue. Clearly still not pleased but willing to accept the girl's assurance for now, the woman signed the paperwork and handed it to Skye. She stood, bowed, and quietly left the room.

As she walked the still confusing corridors she caught sight of herself in a mirror she passed and stopped. She did look better, she had to admit, though her visage was still haggard. She flicked her tail forward to see the fur looked a bit fuller, though the dye had started to fade slightly. She pulled her mask back down over her face and continued on her way. A few minutes later after several stops to ask for directions Skye stood outside the hospital at last, feeling the sun and wind for the first time in days. She breathed deeply and relaxed ever so slightly. As usual there were far too many people around, the city was foreign and confusing to navigate, and she was short on time to make it to where she needed to be, but despite all that she felt better than she had since arriving in Vale. She looked down at her arm and flexed her muscles, vaguely remembering the lesson in Dust Applications shortly before everything went blank.

Dust acts because we will it to act?

The concept had seemed simple enough to grasp, even for her. Yet when she had tried to stop using the Dust in her body she had gotten no results. Even now as she tried again she could feel no changes in the raw power the tattoos provided to her body. She supposed she must be doing it wrong, or perhaps the tattoos were such a crude and chaotic mix of Dust they were beyond controlling precisely? It didn't make much sense, it should not be so difficult to simply not do something. But there it was. As long as her aura persisted, so too did the power of the Dust. She decided she would need to ask the professor what she was doing wrong when she could.

"Young lady? Do you need a ride?" A voice called from somewhere behind her. She turned to see a taxi driver smiling at her. He gave a little wave and she nodded yes to his question before approaching him and bowing.

"Yes sir, I need to get to Beacon Academy right away."

---

Not too long after, but much longer than she would have liked, Skye stood in front of the JBLS dorm room in a long sleeved maroon shirt and jeans one of the nurses had given to her. Her hand hovered inches from the door handle, an irrational fear that she was at the wrong room making her hesitate, despite numerous people all generously giving her directions that led here. Or maybe that fear that she was in the wrong place came from something deeper than a concern over her ability to navigate such a place as this? If that was the case she knew she definitely needed to open this door and move forward. At the same time, she had yet to see the inside of this room once, and the idea of just casually walking in was very uncomfortable to her.

So she pulled her hand back before raising it again in a loose fist, taking a deep breath, and gently knocking.

I laughed a little at first, but Jericho’s genuine reassurance struck me silent for about a second. I smiled at him and Luke attempting to mediate as best as he could, before sitting on the foot of Skye’s bed. I was planning on gently waking our fourth.

“Hey Skye, time to get up girl.” I said rustling the blankets, but as soon as I touched them I realized there was no substance underneath them.

Oh Jesus I’m talking to linens.

“Okay, I know that looked bad, but in my defense it is dark in here and Stella got the eyes – I got the wings!” I said in a hushed voice so I didn’t wake Sk-

You were doing so well, too.

I shook it off, quite literally, and moved towards the front door to take a moment. “Hey, I’ll be right back, just going to stretch my wings real quick.” It was a simple sentiment, there was a large possibility of combat in any mission and if so my largest advantage I could offer my team was on my back and covered in feathers.

So before I could get a: be back in ten from my new captain I was out the door and flying through the halls.

I exploded out the doors and greeted the morning, dewy air by soaring through it. My jacket flapped violently in the wind but all I saw was a destination. It was something that most people dreamt of, that I got every day. I found a place eventually, floating above the clocktower that dominated the landscape of Beacon. This is the place I had first remarked about the beauty of Beacon. It had only been weeks since then ad yet somehow it might’ve lost some of its luster already. That was not to say the school wasn’t the same as it was when I first came here. Rather, I think I just found things that were even better than this to me.

With a smile I spiraled back towards the ground, steadying myself with a single mighty flap of my wings, and strolled back to the dorm. It had only been about ten minutes before I saw Skye – standing at the door and knocking.

With a goofy grin, and slightly messed up hair from the wind, I approached her and threw an arm around her shoulders.

“You know you live here right Skye?” I lightly pushed the door in and looked into the dimly lit room with a grin. “Looks like we’re all here!”

I couldn't at all tell if my team leader was serious. The thing about Jericho was that he was both a natural at acting thanks to years of undercover mission training and a semblance that necessitated such, but also hopped up on so much Atlesian propaganda that he might think certain breakfast foods were a foreign concept to anyone south of the Arctic Circle. Little did he know, Mom loved her waffle iron back at home, even when she tended towards feeding me bowls of oats and plates of eggs to start my day off.

"Yeah, I'm down for waffles. International House of Bagels is a bit more popular down here though, so you might have to substi--"

Wait, hold on. Pause. Back all the way up.

Didn't you just say something super sketchy, Jericho?

Like, super-duper sketchy with a runny red nose and the jitters?!

"Why do you know if there's a discount for looking like you're on ecstasy." I asked in a voice so carefully level I may as well have used a protractor.

I received an enigmatic smirk in return. Not a smile, definitely a smirk.

Screwing with me. I would roll with this as him screwing with me and not contemplate the possibility of a drugged out whackjob with access to that many guns, that many knives, and this many of my peers.

...

No, he was definitely screwing with me, if we were being real. Jer was too professional.

...

I looked again at his shirt, so different from the white tank that I was currently shrugging another layer over.

I read the text carefully, very surely parsing it as intended.

Perhaps I spoke too soon?

...

No, he doesn't—— oh thank god bianca's back

"Oh, good. Guess that means we're ready to roll?" I asked, raising a hand to greet our returning bird and fox, thankful for a way out of the previous conundrum. As usual, my choices in fashion for combat were the ever-serviceable, ever-understated "hoodie and jeans". Simple and timeless, despite Bianca's insistence on needing to dress more thoughtfully. But really, denim and a nice, neutral grey were as inoffensive as it got. Our clothing queen may hate hearing it, but as long as it isn't actively bad, I'm fine.

I rose, plucking Crow's Beak from the wall adjacent and resting it against my shoulder as the two filed in for any last-second instances of grabbery.

@Forsythe

Post-Dust Apps

"There's no leeway for 'try'."

When you've been teaching brats for a while, it turns out that you get better and better at ferreting out a picture of the stuff floating around in their noggins. Not like some jammy mind-reading ability or anything, but you get used to all the lip coming your way, you know? A pattern always forms, and unless you're a real nugget of a teacher or just nackered, it's easy to twig onto what they're trying to hide.

For Miss Frost, that's her not really comprehending why she's here.

I can't say I get her background. But you were a stupid, bratty lass too, right Teàrlag? Yeah, but I also came from a life of relative privilege, you know? Far from the midden that a lot of people go through. Except even so, that doesn't excuse what she's done. If she wants to be a Hunter, she has to understand exactly what she's doing wrong, and why it's not at all good for her job.

"Whatever your intentions, there's a minimum standard of trust that exists between people, and especially amongst Hunters," I continue. "That means you don't selfishly attack them out of nowhere. That's not a way to ask for help, nor does it make you seem trustworthy. This entire bloody career is built on trusting your comrades, so if you're just going to be dogging them, there's no place in this job for you."

It's blunter than I like, but I have to get this into her brain. She either shapes up, or her job's toast.

"You'll be having detention with me every week for the next two months. You're also banned from leaving campus grounds for any reason besides missions for the next six. If you circumvent that, the faculty is very likely to expel you. The mark's permanent on your official record now, so please don't do anything like this ever again. A second strike and you'll be gone."

Usually, most offenders would have been gone in a heartbeat. But, she has one more chance. And I really hope she takes it.

"This week, you won't be going anywhere until missions. And your first detention will be tomorrow. See me at 8 to help clean the Dust flasks."

---

This time, Robert actually paid attention to what he was being told, figuring that it would actually be a good idea to know what they were supposed to do all the way out here. It seemed simple enough, but then again so did the last two missions he had been on and look how those went. Sure, they all ended with the primary objective completed, but both times the former team leader had returned home feeling that mistakes were made on his part. There was a reason Sand was now in command though and he knew she wouldn't make the same bad calls he had.

Now that Ms. Thoúlē Aristeas was finished speaking and looking to hear whatever questions the team may have been thinking, Robert decided to be the first to speak and ask what was on everyone's mind. "Who chose the name for this organization? Like did they know how deceitful it was when they chose it? Did they sit around a table of executives and go, 'Alright guys, what name should we choose for our government-funded institution that will be creating high tech and possibly illegal weapons all for the sake of defending humanity from the greatest threat it's ever faced?'

'I know, how about we name it after the greatest dessert known to mankind so that any high school students that visit the facility will be totally confused and depressed when they realize they will not in fact be getting ice cream while they're trying to fight off the hordes of Grimm that constantly barrage our facility.'

'That's a great idea, Jim. This is why we pay you the big bucks.'"

Despite how ridiculous the scenario he had described was, it was clear by the peeved look on his face that the bespectacled young man was very serious about his question. He felt absolutely betrayed by the Atlesian woman.

IC: Amaranth Desire

Unlike her team leader, Amy didn’t have a lot of experience with locales outside of Vale proper. Wasn’t like there’d been money to take field trips in the orphanage, or good marks for theft. That being said, there wasn’t a lot she was better suited for than keeping an eye on her surroundings. She let her Semblance go as high as it could without slowing her perception too much, her senses enhancing. The sounds of the forest resolved from a mass of aural stimulus to individual, clear notes--a bird’s song to her right, a branch falling from a tree to her left.
She kept her eyes on the forest behind them, looking for movement. As tempting as it would be to watch each individual leaf sway in the breeze, that wasn’t generally relevant to watching the team’s back.
Amy shifted slightly in her armor, the unfamiliar feeling of the heavier outfit making her a little uncomfortable in the tropical environment of the jungle. It was extremely light, for armor, and didn’t restrict her movement much--but it was still something she was going to have to get used to. She’d done the risk assessment in her head, and the armor was worth having to adapt to it fully on the fly. The previous week had contained a lot of practice time actually using the stupid suit, so it wasn’t exactly like this was her first time in it, but…
Hopefully her engineering held together, was all.
"On it, Cap," she finally said. "I'll let you know if I see or hear anything."

@Lazo@Awesomoman64@Guess Who@Abillioncats

The inspector ignored Robert.

Krysanthe was excited that it was time to go on a mission once again. Plus with a name like Combat Recon it was sure to be full of action. Or at least half full of action and half full of recon, if the name was any indication. Regardless they landed and met up with Walter, a fairly lanky man that was somewhat reminiscent of a pirate: what with the hat and keys, whatever those were for. Buried treasure maybe? Krysanthe was dressed herself in her typical yellow clothes with her vibrant red scarf standing out as much as ever. In addition her Sea Legs were already equipped, indicating she was ready for action. "Alright team, let's get going. Everybody keep your eyes roaming for stray Grim, Sepia be ready to hook us up if it looks like we're meeting them." Krysanthe said confidently, in what she hoped was a suitably leaderish tone. Walter seemed to think there might be quite a variety in Grim they found. Beowulves and Manticores, Harpies and Ogdoads, A Bael, Sitting Bulls or Nightmares. That was quite a few different type of Grim and Krysanthe wasn't quite sure she remembered all of them. Was it too late to do some last minute research on her scroll? Well she had just told everyone to keep their eyes out for Grim so that'd look a bit silly wouldn't it? Argh, she'd just have to hope she remembered everything important when they started fighting.

_{@Eklispe, @Suku, @SevenStormStyle}

Things were suddenly moving quickly. At this point, Ferris was simply taking the sudden re-reorganization of teams in stride, giving up trying to figure it out. Although if he was being honest with himself, he was disappointed at no longer having the leadership role. But, so it goes. He was sure somebody knew what they were doing in all this. His disappointment was completely overshadowed by his excitement at being back out in the field. This was what he trained for, this is where he belonged, not trapped in some stuffy room playing schoolboy.

He watched his new teammates as they stepped out of the airship. They had barely had time to exchange names (which he had promptly forgotten oh well) before being bundled out on a mission. Knowing the capabilities, if not the names, of those around him was something Ferris prided himself on, and not knowing theirs's was not only frustrating but could prove fatal. Of course he had basic info on his scroll, provided by Beacon, but there was only so much a few short paragraphs could explain. He needed to know more-- how they acted, how they thought. Were they impulsive? Cautious? Short-tempered? Did they trust easily? Were they suspicious? Analytical like him? Unsystematic? Most importantly he needed to know their skill with their auras. A powerful aura was wasted on one that didn't utilize it properly, and vis versa, a weak or limited aura could be used to great effect if properly understood.

Although, dangerous situations do tend to be good learning environments. Should one survive the lessons. He thought with grim humour. For sure, he would be carefully observing his teammates.

He strode out following them with his hands clasped behind his back, then stood with the same posture, but at attention, as Mr. Doesn't-do-Well-With-Formalities gave them the details, such as they were, of the mission. They were quite simple: Seek and Destroy. The best kind. Ferris took the warning to be on the look out for Grim to heart. He reached back and drew Damocles in gun-form from it's holster under his coat, treating it with the respect it was due. Having it in his hand and ready could save precious seconds, and it's familiar weight and feel was comforting. He kept his eyes scanning the trees for any threats. Meanwhile, he tilted his head toward to the blonde who had spoken. "What do you mean 'hook us up?'" He asked.

@Silvan Haven@Crimmy@Abillioncats

Silver Applegate - Vale - Civil War

"Yeah, thanks." Silver said to the seasoned hunter. He entered the dropship and put the shoulder bag containing his gear in the cargo compartment like Beryl did. He had opted to wear his protective suit in advance just in case.

He took a seat and let out a big yawn, covering his mouth. He hadn't slept well the previous night from the tension of what their mission was going to be and he had the bags under his eyes to show it. He had fought grimm before, but not people, at least not outside of sparring sessions, and as much as he wished it all went smoothly he had a feeling bad things were going to happen.

"I hope I don't bring them down in my state..." He thought as he looked at his teammates. Given that this'd be a long journey he hopped he could get some proper shuteye until then.

@Slime@Abillioncats@Silvan Haven

Vega Venetia

Something soft and made of fabric bumped into Silver's side.

"Do you want this pillow?" asked Vega Venetia, settling down into the next seat over and addressing him for the first time since his joining. "You seem to be very tired. I cannot have a team member fall asleep in a mission, you need a comfortable snooze."

Held in her outstretched arm was the Pillow.

Gratia Mindaro

Was present and accounted for.

@Crimmy@Slime@Silvan Haven


Once everyone was on board and safely seated, the airship took off, heading towards Gallia, Mistral. Andrew didn't say anything for a while as he focused on taking off and making sure all systems were functioning correctly. It wouldn't do much good if they crashed halfway there.

Once they were flying towards their destination Andrew spoke up. "I'm not gonna sugar coat it...this mission isn't going to be pretty. Though I suppose you oughta get used to that sooner than later. A huntsman's job rarely is." The airship made a sudden turn to the left as Andrew course corrected.

"As you probably know, Gallia is a seaport off the coast of Mistral, the coast is on the east side while it's northern and western borders end at with the Gnarled Forest, to the south are the mountains. Basically what I'm getting at is they are isolated, the only real way to get there is by air or sea. Traveling through the mountains is just about impossible, and the Gnarled Forest is not somewhere you ever want to find yourself unless you're with someone who is all too familiar with it, like myself. My village is in fact within the Gnarled Forest, just north of Gallia. It's where I raised my daughter, Emerald." He paused, seemingly in thought.

"Oh right! I almost forgot to mention, the basket back there has some donuts and cookies my wife baked, feel free to eat what you want." He cleared his throat.

"Back on topic though, Gallia is normally a rather quiet town. It seems that civil unrest has been growing more and more for the past few months. It wasn't until recently that Mayor Gideon Blue contacted me, requesting aid in dealing with the situation. Now I can't say I know the man well, I've only dealt with him directly a couple times myself, but that man is very self-reliant and ruthless, the fact that he actually asked for help at all concerns me quite a bit."

Andrew looked back from the cockpit to the hunters and huntresses in training. "So you guys with me so far? Any questions? Need some milk with those cookies?"

Sand kept the discomfort from her face as the inspector praised her and went on to describe their expected duties. It was not that she found their roles dissatisfactory. Rather, the grandiloquence with which Thoúlē Aristeas addressed them seemed to have taken a small jump from the refined to the courtly, and it was enough to leave the Huntress feeling out of balance. It was more than enough to cement the suspicions she had formed at the mention of her name that the woman had been born with a silver-spoon in her mouth.

It would have been one thing if they had simply met on the streets, but she could only hope Thoúlē Aristeas’s eccentricities did not get in the way of their work.

Once the explanation reached its conclusion, she nodded and glanced to her sides, leaving the others to say their part. Seeing as the shuttle had already taken flight—the smoothness of the take-off had barely been felt by those standing inside, a credit to Atlesian engineering—she suspected the inspector wished to hurry things along, so she resolved to leave any further questions for later. That said, being students, it was only to be expected if the others wanted to speak to the woman in front of them before they lost their chance.

Her studies and credentials, or rather, how she had come to be in this shuttle as an inspector for international security, were things Sand was still curious about.

Almost as if summoned by her earlier thoughts on eccentricities, however, it was Robert who spoke up, bringing up the matter of the organization’s acronym. He would be the one to point it out, she thought to herself. It was a valid question, if rather pointless. Perhaps he would have received an answer in turn, had he not proceeded to ardently play out the scene in which ‘ICE CreAM’ was chosen in disparaging tones, which in turn changed the context of the question from, “Why would you choose to name this organization after a dessert?” to “I thought we were getting ice cream. Where is my ice cream?”

To which the response was studied ignorance.

For which we should feel lucky. We shouldn’t be getting berated by an officer before the mission’s even started.

After a pregnant pause, Sand shifted in place and coughed lightly into her wrist, drawing attention back to herself. “It seems that is all, ma’am.” With her other hand, she gave Robert a sympathetic squeeze on the shoulder. Or a message not to press on with the question for the time being, depending on one’s perspective. “We’ll be on standby until we have landed, or Grimm are sighted.”

@Guess Who@Awesomoman64@Abillioncats@Crimmy

Cian Combat Retcon

_{@Eklispe, @Crimson Raven, @SevenStormStyle}

Cian knew things were moving quickly perhaps a bit too quickly. Though there was little she could do but go along with it the reorganization of teams was confusing and she could only hope that she got well with her new team. She cared little about who was in charge as long as they were a good leader she didn't want someone whose brilliant strategy was to gang up on an enemy and hit it till it dies. No, she did not want that at all. One thing she knew was that whoever her teammates were would be put to the test.

With little knowledge on her teammates as they stepped out of the airship and no time to really exchange information it really was a trial by fire at this point. Though she supposed that in the end as long as they completed the mission and got back in one piece kink and mistakes in teamwork can be ironed out. Beacon, of course, did provide some information but things like that weren't enough to tell behavior on the field. Dangerous yes but it was a good teacher in the field they would learn to survive and grow and if they failed well it lead to injury and possibly death neither was which anyone wanted to experience she was pretty sure.

As she walked out Cian fingered Ichaival its been upgraded and reinforced so she hoped that in the end, it would prove enough. Yes with this she would prove her worth nothing would stop her she was sure either way it was going to be interesting. Holding the case at the ready Cian was ready for whatever may be thrown at her come hell or high water she would survive and so would the new team she would make sure of it.

While everyone else was out doing missions, Gren went to investigate a personal matter. Without a team, Gren was his own leader. And while he’s certain that Beacon expects him to do things for them, hence the missions, these too were important to Beacon’s wellbeing. They just weren’t on the books. He packed up his great, loaded up on ammo and armor, and left the safety of the city to go investigate a ruined town a couple miles away. Like many towns, this was supposed to be a new settlement, a new opportunity for people to make a new life and a better future for themselves. And like many towns, it ultimately ended up in disaster. Bandits quickly moved in and started subjecting the townsfolk. They tried to fight back. They lost.

And of course that entire conflict made this place ripe for grimm to come in and clean up the mess left behind. The bandits stole everything they could carry, leaving behind bad memories and dead bodies. Nowadays however, this same nameless town had a different pest infection; White Fang. After clearing out the Grimm, a group of White Fang operatives set up a camp here for the purpose of resupply, recovery, and reconnaissance. But like with many things Gren has his thumbs in, there was more to it than that. Because the original purpose of the town was to be a medical facility; there were plants and minerals nearby that could potentially help treat various diseases and illnesses, so this place was once quite capable of performing various operations and tests. Of course this also meant this town had loads of drugs, which was what the bandits were after and what they took once they razed the town.

However not all was lost, and with some time and effort, the White Fang were able to get the labs working so they could continue their research. Not that the White Fang did a lot of their own research, but that’s why Gren sent Pop’s here. That old bear from way back when, trying to turn faunas back into people. Even now Gren wondered if it was really such a bad idea; he himself can’t really say that he’s still a faunas when he’s over 90% machine. Really, the only reason he had to take the guy in was because his former team leader made the wonderful decision to pick a fight with him by herself. And Gren wasn’t the type to let such an opportunity go to waste.

So of course this couldn’t just be a simple check up. Oh no. The Camp was being attacked by other White Fang. Gren had worried about this before; their splinter faction had likely been discovered. It was hard to tell who was one whose side as Gren approached hearing the gunfire and fighting. But if he had to guess, the one defending the camp were his allies and the ones attacking the camp were his enemies. So Gren got his gun out and activated his semblance as well as his thrusters, and rushed into battle.

Using his Friction to allow him to slide across the ground using the thrusters to propel him, Gren quickly found himself in the center of a White Fang firing squad. In the brief moment of confusion, Gren rechanneled his semblance through the bodies of the White Fang around him, specifically to their weapons. When they turned to shoot him they could only get one shot off before their own guns flew out of their hands due to the sheer recoil of the bullets, and Gren’s semblance making sure they had no grip on their guns. Gren of course had no problem using his weapon and so he proceeded to open fire, literally, and dousing the White Fang near him in napalm from his flame thrower.

”I better figure out what’s going on here.”

Blaine snatched the ring with a deft hand as he sat, listening to Professor Rowan address the team.

A simple mission. Eliminate threats as they arose, sneak as best as they could. In theory, combat should be sporadic at worst. Quiet, sneaking. Just like the mountains back home.

Team Leader Iona was glancing about the room, doubtlessly assessing the team. Blaine would not disappoint. His weapons hung about him loosely, prepped and ready. In his hands he held his new quarterstaff, a simple lever, varnished and prepared to the proportions requested. Nothing too special, but it would serve him well, along with the few pieces of basic armor he had acquired. Ceramic and a weave of some kind meant to stop firearms, strategically placed around important organs. Between the staff in his hands, armor encasing his body, Leonids draped from his shoulders, and stilettos in a bandelier around his chest, Blaine wondered for just a moment if he was bringing too much… then remembered that his teammates were all carrying weapons which transformed into firearms.

If anything, he was carrying too little.

Still, the mission wasn’t what bothered him. He sat, eyes burning a hole in the wall immediately next to the new member of the team. He wore his most neutral expression, brow furrowed. A single bead of sweat traced the edge of his face. Once again, proper introductions were in order. He could be redeemed. This time, he would do things properly!

There had been no time to make a gift, but it would not be expected. This Yun had joined the team in the last few days, unexpected to most anyone. They were on even terms.

Noticing her glance his way, along with her obvious enthusiasm for the mission, Blaine made eye contact. He flashed a brief smile, sharpened fangs peering out from behind thin lips, eyes unchanging. This was a good sign of moral support, and a precursor to a true introduction. Good job, Blaine. Preliminary friendliness achieved.

With the first steps of a good foot forward, the mission was all but upon them. Focus was needed. His gaze shifted to the two leaders of men, allowing his lips to fall from their grimace, voice rumbling like a freight train. “I have two concerns, Professor Rowan. Firstly, how long will data extraction take? Second, Team Leader Iona. I trust your judgement, but think I should not carry these devices. I uh… have not used a computer prior to this weekend. I think this fair warning.”

@Silvan Haven@Crimmy@Abillioncats

Silver Applegate - Vale - Civil War

"Thanks, Vega." He said grabbing the pillow. "I don't want to hold the team back either. I'll be rested up by the time we get to Gallia."

Not waiting another moment, Andrew took the airship off the ground. Despite how the craft looked it seemed to work well. Now officially on their way to Gallia, Andrew gave a quick rundown of the location with the added tangent of some backstory. Wasn't Emerald their classmate?

Going back to the main topic, the seasoned Huntsman confirmed Silver's fears of their mission and added to his tension. "I have a question, yes. Why would Gideon request for a team of Huntsmen from Beacon? Wouldn't it be better for the local Huntsmen to handle this?" Silver asked as he helped himself to the snacks.

@Crimmy@Slime@Abillioncats



Beryl was already half in the aforementioned basket of confectioneries by the time that Andrew looked back at them. Her head popped up and swiveled around to face him as he continued speaking, half a doughnut sticking out of her mouth.

"Wph gth th lmphls..." A quick swallow. "What's causing the unrest? What's got the locals all stirred up enough that outside help needs to be called in? I'll do what needs doing to keep order but if this guy is re-instituting Faunus slavery we're going to have some problems."

Possibly ones that would require excessive levels of bleach and several new coats of paint. Chances of such an occurance were low of course, something like that would have been flagged and never gotten through to the Beacon mission list. Still when the local contact describes your employer as "ruthless" and his town is suffering from civil disorder bad enough to require an armed response it payed to be careful.