London grumbled something unintelligible about 'low-quality kevlar' as he began putting his suit jacket back on over the ballistic vest. Currently, he was in the locker rooms next to the auditorium, having just had his wounds stitched shut, and had finished stitching his jacket back together. Also, the para-medic had mentioned not to do any training for the next day or two whilst his cracked ribs healed up. His aura, however, had already recovered, only minutes after the match; Perk of being an Earthborn, faster aura recharge. Blake sat nearby with the medical officer, her head held up with a small piece of cotton in place to stop her nose-bleed whilst the man tending her gently dabbed an alcohol-rag onto the small cut on the side of her head, where London had landed the baton hit she didn't remember. Heck, she wasn't too sure who'd won. Sure, London knocked her out, but her aura didn't go red, and neither did his. However, both of them went unconscious at some point, so it was still unclear. Either way, the next battle was already starting up. A lad with curly blonde hair, blue eyes, and glasses walked past Blake, wearing leather armour with a few pieces of body armour visible, and he had a long rapier clipped to his belt. Beneath his armpits, there was a pair of machine pistols, meaning he wasn't entirely just close range. London looked up, not wearing his mask. "You all ready to get arse-fucked with swords, Josh?" he asked casually. 'Josh' shot him a glare as Blake giggled slightly.
"Can't be worse than how badly Blake kicked your arse, Jack," he shot back. London was taken aback.
"Josh, I've fuckin' told you, it's London. Not Jack, London."
"And do I ever listen to your opinions?"
"No, but that's-"
"Exactly."
'Jack' sighed as he began to check his weapons weren't loaded.
"Who're you up against?"
"Weiss Schnee," Josh replied, scratching the back of his head. Blake's ears pricked up. Weiss? Why's she volunteering?
"You and Mrs. Schnee, huh?" Jack grinned as he emptied each shotgun shell out onto the table in-between the lockers. "Why's that come about? Is Mrs. Goodwytch trying to play matchmaker?"
"Uh." Josh folded his arms, raised his brow, and pointed between Blake and Jack. "You wanna go down that route?"
Jack raised his arms defensively. "Nope, I'm fine. Now you shoot off in there and fuck her." Blake blushed profusely. "Wait...you know what I mean. Damn. That was a Freudian slip-and-a-half." Josh drew his rapier, laughing as he turned to the door.
"That was not a Freudian slip, that was just you being a dirty minded weirdo."
"It was a Freudian slip!" Jack called after him. "Anyway, go fuc-shoot her." He shook his head as Josh walked out, frowning as he cleared the chamber of the assault rifle he was carrying. "Shite..." Just then, the para-medic shifted.
"Alright, Miss Belladonna," he began, standing up and packing up the bandages. "I need to go get more supplies for the next injuries that come in, so I recommend you stay here and wait until the bleeding stops before you go back upstairs."
"Of course," she said calmly, "Thank you." The uniformed man smiled, and turned to Jack.
"Keep an eye on her," he ordered. Jack mock-saluted, and the man exited the dark cloak-rooms, leaving the two in the room in a mutual silence. She didn't speak to him, partly because of her bloody nose and that she felt slightly light-headed, and he didn't speak to her, because he was too busy trying to unjam the heavy pistols that lay on the table. It was rather calming; Just out of the room, one of Jack's friends and a member of Blake's team were fighting, the sounds of clashing steel and occasional belch of machine pistol fire rang out down the corridor, whilst in the cloakroom, Blake and Jack sat in absolute silence.
She'd never properly spoken to an Earthborn. What if he didn't want to answer any questions now that she'd attacked him? His mask was off. She might be able to read his facial expressions...
"So..." she began, idly swinging her legs. Jack froze completely. "...you came to Remnant by yourself?" There was no answer: Jack focused on his weapons, constantly racking the slides of his pistols to clear them of dirt. Blake patiently waited. Maybe he was just thinking.
Still no reply, even a minute later.
"Are you OK?" she asked. She didn't feel that light-headed now, and her nose wasn't bleeding, so she pulled out the tissue from her right nostril and put her head down to look at him properly. Jack's stance was different than it had been in the arena; Any air of confidence he once carried in the fight was now gone, and he seemed to be ready to run on a moments' notice. He gave the severely burned left side of his face a quick scratch, and flicked his eyes over to Blake, but quickly returned to his guns. "You just don't want to talk?" she sighed, looking down. "That's fine."
Suddenly, Jack cleared his throat, and Blake looked up. "I..." he said quietly, with even less confidence in his voice. "I...don't do well talking to girls." That's it? That's why he wouldn't speak? He was OK in the arena.
"Well, you did just fine talking to me back in the auditorium," she noted. Jack sighed.
"In combat, the enemy is the enemy, and you are yourself. I just see an opponent as that: An opponent. Training match, sure, I'll help you up and check you're fine, that's it. I just don't want to risk any further interactions."
"You don't seem too bad," Blake offered her most genuine smile. "Most of the time, the victor just leaves me there, and you were the first one that wasn't on my team to help me up. Plus, you were at least kind enough to not beat me whilst I was down."
"It'd be ungentlemanly, otherwise," he replied. "There's no valour in attacking someone who can't defend themselves. It's like punching the wounded."
"Nice quote," Blake smiled. "Where'd you learn it?"
"Nowhere, I-I just made that one up. It's common knowledge, though not many people abide by it," he sighed. "Even I don't sometimes." There was another pause, the continuing sounds of fighting outside still ringing out.
"Where'd you learn to fight?" Blake asked, trying to break the ice. This was a first: Blake, breaking the ice. It took a few days before anybody on her team even knew her surname.
"Streets of London," Jack replied. "Fair bit of gang fighting in certain areas, so I learned to defend myself. I trained in a few martial arts, boxing, kickboxing, weapon operation, and that kinda thing. I didn't go for one specific style, I just mixed a bunch together, and..."
"I know how that worked out. You're pretty good."
"Thanks. You're not too bad, either."
"Thank you. I don't entirely understand why you don't just get a custom weapon made for you, rather than carrying so many guns around. Nothing's stopping you." Blake noted. Jack laughed.
"Well, I guess it's because I like Earth weapons better. Plus, I know a guy who can get just about anything, for a price..."
"And how much is that price? Where did you get the money from?"
"Inheritance. Parents died in a gang shooting around the Hoxton area, and I was left a fifth of the inheritance money. Naturally, wasn't enough, so I..." He trailed off. "...I'm not gonna say anything else." Blake frowned, and nodded solemnly.
Was she talking with a murderer?
Before she could ask any different questions to lure him away from the topic of his illegal activities, several sets of footsteps came from down the hall. Blake and Jack both cast a glance down, to see several students approaching. There were at least six of them; five boys, one girl. However, Blake was mainly surprised at how the group of them looked. One of the smaller boys at the front had brown skin, similar to the Emerald girl that Blake had spoken to a few days before, with black hair and a pristine grey uniform that wouldn't look out of place on an off-duty Atlas soldier. Next to him, there was another boy with greasy brown hair and what looked to be powered armour. Blake was almost certain that was Atlas military technology. Then again, she was certain that other dimensions didn't exist until a few months ago.
The group entered the locker room, grinning at Jack and beginning to loudly voice their congratulations to him. His face lit up slightly, as he took the fist bumps and friendly shoulder punches whilst the others all sat down. None of them had seen Blake. The brown-skinned boy spoke first. "That actually went well, and you're not dead," he remarked, "A plus because you tried, and then F because you passed out." Jack swiftly raised his middle and index fingers with the back of his hand facing the boy.
"Shut the fuck up, Kurrun," he laughed. "At least I didn't pass out during the fight. Imagine how much banter would spring up if I got knocked out by a girl?" There was a laugh, as the girl spoke up.
"I pinned you against a wall and made you say 'uncle' the other day, so I'd shut up," she grinned, jabbing a finger at him. Blake smiled, and chuckled quietly. Unfortunately, that prompted all eyes to go over to her, many without a glimmer of friendliness.
One of the other boys, a taller lad wearing camouflage trousers, boots, and a plain green shirt, looked her up and down. "Who's this bitch?" he grunted.
"Luke, you have no idea how to talk to women, do you?" Jack asked.
"Coming from you?" Luke laughed. "She just kicked the shit out of you, and you're just talking with her? The hell's wrong with you?"
"Nothing, because that was a training match." Jack stressed those words. "Trai-ning-ma-tch. Neither of us were meant to kill the other, and neither of us did. I don't really care that we fought, because as far as I can tell by the fact she initiated conversation, Blake's an alright person." There was a murmur of begrudging agreement.
"If it was Josh, he'd open by saying something like 'I took business as a GCSE' or some shit," the greasy-haired lad muttered, stretching his back as a few others laughed. "What good's a fucking GCSE gonna do here? Make the Grimm feel inferior?"
"Yeah, and you can't get a proper brew at this place," Jack grumbled. "All this ooh, Earl Grey and Green Tea bollocks. Where's the Gold?"
"Well, they've started serving it at the cafeteria, so we can go get some," Luke replied. "Lesson's almost over, so we might as well. I didn't know you even drank tea." Jack gathered up his weaponry and slung it over himself, slipping his mask into his suit jacket as he stood and began to leave with the rest of them.
"And I bet you also didn't know I hacked the iCloud once," he remarked. He paused briefly, and looked to Blake. "Can you not die until the para-medic comes back, please? I don't want it to look like I let you die." Blake raised an eyebrow, just as Josh staggered back in, now sporting a red patch on his leather armour. He stumbled over to the wall, gripping his wound, and before anyone could say anything, he'd grabbed a spare bandage and a knife, grunting as he forced a bullet out of his stomach. It popped out, landed on the floor, and was quickly kicked away as he bandaged himself up. Jack just grinned. "Holy shit," he laughed. "She fucked you with a rapier." Josh simply shot Jack a glare that might have burned Hell itself, but Jack was used to that.
"Literally shut your face," he snapped, before turning his attention to Blake, who sat on the locker-room bench, confusedly looking back. "Your team-mate shot me with my own gun, gave it back, and then started crying when she realized what she'd done. How can you live with her?"
"How do James, Robbie, and Steven live in the same dorm as me? I thought Robbie would have tried raping all of us by now," Jack asked calmly. Robbie, the boy with the armoured greaves, gauntlets, and chestplate, shot him a glare.
"Well, first off, I'm not gay, I'm bi," he began, "Second, I know two of you would castrate me with an ice pick if I tried. Third, I know that Captain Planet over there would enjoy it." He cast a gesture to Steven, a larger boy with black hair and what looked to be a bomb suit.
"Oh, fuck off," Steven muttered.
It was as she watched these 'teams' calmly insulting each other that Blake realized humans were a lot more complicated than she had first assumed.
As in, holy shit, she thought Weiss was weird sometimes, but this is just pushing new boundaries.