It was simple. Just design a weapon as your graduation project, they said.
It will be fun, they said.
"You will each be given full funding to make your weapons-"
"Can we make anything?"
The professor sighed. "So long as it functions, yes."
"Can I make a landmine hammer?" The guy almost jumped from his desk.
"Sure but-"
"Excuse me what the fuck?" I blurted it out as the realization hit me.
Some dude wanted to make a fucking landmine hammer.
"Sylas!" The hungover professor yelled my name. Normally, we were cool, but apparently being the only one with sense in my class was against the rules. I piped down. A few people in the class chuckled, and I heard someone make a snide remark.
"Looks like Professor Branwen had to put his little pet back on his leash." I rolled my eyes, but Branwen chuckled.
"Yeah, and I've heard snakes are great at hunting rats." I shrugged like I was actually skilled enough to take him. I specialized in long, drawn out duels between few people and short skirmishes with very big groups. One on one wasn't my thing. What type of faunus was I anyways?
"There gonna be any other interruptions in here?" Branwen instinctively reached for something at his hip, but he growled when he felt nothing.
"Great, so all you get to make your own signature weapons. Could be anything you want, just make sure it works. Any questions?" I didn't really want to make a weapon. My normal staff was great at most things. Besides, if I wanted range I'd just pick up a handgun.
"Does it have to be a weapon?" I didn't bother raising my hand. I always sat near the back, but I was recognizable.
"Nope. Just make sure it works." He scanned his eyes across the crowd of students and coughed. "So, that's all, I guess. This thing is due in a month, so you have plenty of time, especially with that break coming up." He nonchalantly waved a hand, and people began to rush out of the room.
I kept my seat, waiting until everyone was gone. Normally, my brain would operate on the basis of "fuck it, sounds cool" or "let's over complicate things." Now, I genuinely nothing that piqued my interest.
The only reason I asked if it had to be a weapon was because I didn't consider armor to be a weapon.
So what if I made it one?
I giggled maniacally. Branwen kept his head down at his desk, mumbling something to himself. I stood up and pushed my chair in with my scaly hand. I grabbed my book bag and strolled out.
How the hell would I make armor a weapon? The first option was to use tiny little thorns to make it, hence "Thornmail." All I'd need then was a Randuin's, Ninja Tabi, Steraks, Zz'Rot, and Ravenous Hydra to complete my build as a tanky bruiser.
Jokes.
My second option was to have my armor use dust, but I hardly knew how the stuff worked. It nearly broke me when they said that nobody really knew how it worked. #1 fuel source and nobody understands it.
I swear if I hadn't chosen to be a huntsman I would've been a damn scientist. Did these people even know what the scientific method was?
Can I patent it?
Hell, I was already working with that guy to make a combination of Hearthstone and Yu-Gi-Oh. He made the art, I made the lore and abilities. May as well pay him a visit.
I went to the library, the place we'd normally hang out. He wasn't a student here, but his sister was. By some flawed logic that meant he had to show up just to be dragged around.
Getting there didn't take long. That wasn't what bothered me. My friend, Dandelion - Dan for short, was being held up by the back of his collar by Cardin Winchester.
As a decent person, that pissed me off.
I picked up my pace and reached for my collapsed staff on my lower back. I kept a hand on it and approached the brute. "Having fun?"
The guy grinned. "Plenty of it."
"Then I hope it was nice." I swung my staff out, extending it, and I knocked him down with a simple swipe to the ankles. I gave Dan a hand up. I led him away and turned back to the brute on the ground. "How are the ankles?"
Winchester stood up and wiped his mouth. "Oh you're fucking dead." He spat on the ground and raised his fists. A crowd began to form.
Winchester rushed me with a haymaker. I ducked and moved to the left, jabbing him in the gut with my fist. He grabbed my staff and wrenched it from my grip. I let him take it.
He went to punch me again. I pushed his fist past me and felt his other fist hit me in the eye. My vision blackened for a second, but I quickly retaliated with a jab to his windpipe.
The brute fell to his knees, gasping for air. I turned away from him and raised a hand to my eye. I wanted to wipe at it, but touching it hurt. Dan tried to come to my aid.
I shut my eyes and groaned when I heard a professor storm up to us, yelling something I couldn't care for. "Just play along, pal." Dan nodded.
Professor Xiao Long was throwing a pissy fit. My run in with him back on Patch was a horrible way to start our doomed relationship. Simply put, he didn't like me and I didn't like his way of thinking. Thirty one years and I couldn't get away from idiots. "What do think you're doing?"
"Helping a friend? Stopping a guy from making a fool of himself?"
"Do you think this is a joke?"
"We've been through this four times in the last two weeks. It's not funny. It's stale." I hadn't even turned to face him, and my monotonous speaking didn't seem to help.
"Then why do you even bother?"
I turned to him. "And why do you people preach about bullying and do nothing about it?"
He kept his cool, but I could tell he wasn't in the mood for this. "My office. Now." The stern tone of his made me roll my eyes, but only after he started walking off. The crowd began to murmur.
"Well I'll see you tomorrow." Dan was red faced. He stumbled back a few steps and walked off. Typical Dan.
I followed the man who I held little to no respect for, grabbing my staff off of the ground. His classroom was just next to Branwen's, so I waved to him as I passed. I heard him grumble something, but at least he waved back. Xiao Long pushed the door to his class open and pointed to a seat. I sat down with semi-decent posture.
"Why is it so hard for you to just listen to a few simple rules?" He slammed his hand onto my desk.
"A few reasons. We'll go with me having no respect for authority." I heard him grind a few of his teeth together.
"Don't you think I already knew that?"
"Well gee, do you?" I scoffed and rolled my eyes.
He stood up and let out a deep breath. "Yes. Yes I do. But why is that?" He said each word slowly.
"You're asking a guy who literally watched all forms of authority he's ever known either fail to do their job or do so in such an incompetent way it was almost redundant." I could almost list them off. Vale wasn't the only one. Let's just say American politics are, simply put, an insult battle where the dumbest guy wins.
He paused for a longer time than the last. "Why do you try so hard to make everyone's lives so difficult?" It caught me a bit off guard. "You've sabotaged your classmates' weapons, left them on their own when they needed help, and you actively start fights. Why?"
"I sabotaged their weapons so I'd have a fighting chance at beating them. I don't help them because they treat me like crap. And I fight the people nobody else will. You happy?" I sat up and let myself slide an inch or two.
"Detention for two weeks, starting tomorrow." He waved a hand at the door. His other hand was wiping at his face in frustration. I strolled out, passing by Branwen's class as I had earlier. I tried to calm down, but my head was still pounding. I grit my teeth together when Branwen signaled me into his class. I closed the door behind me.
"So what'd you do this time?" Branwen chuckled.
I leaned against a desk and closed my eyes. It helped, but I knew that I would just have to sleep it off. "Some guy was screwing with a friend of mine."
"You have...?" He trailed off for a second before catching himself. "So what'd you do?"
"Swept the bastard off his feet." My head kept pounding. I swallowed hard and cracked a few knuckles.
"Is that all?" Branwen knew me well enough. Some of my other fights were bad. A black eye was the least of my worries.
"Pretty much." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't exactly the entire truth, of course.
"Then where'd the black eye come from?"
"Turns out Winchester hits like a damn truck." Branwen glared at me for a second.
"So that's not 'pretty much' it." He downed a glass of water and groaned.
I pressed a hand against my temple, rubbing it gently. "We got into a fistfight. I won."
"Kid, you can't just keep fighting everyone." It was like being a child who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar one too many times.
"Well, ain't that exactly what we're training to do? To be able to fight anyone?" I tried to laugh, but choked when a rush of pain filled my head.
"You alright, kid?"
"Yeah. Took a hell of a punch from Winchester, but I'll be fine."
Branwen scowled at me. "Go to the infirmary. We can talk later."
"Thanks." I grit my teeth together and stumbled out of the room. I kept my right eye shut. It hurt less that way.
I spent almost two weeks arguing with myself over the look of my armor. The general design of it was complicated, but I had more than enough time in detention to think it through. I even managed to get the overall design and chassis done with, but the outer armor was a bit tough. I was focusing on mobility, since I was most comfortable with a staff.
The framing was a beauty. I almost couldn't believe I made it, though it had some help from some weird kid in a cloak. She was nice, but she could only give me so much advice. Blue wires ran in an almost skeletal pattern, all the way to the fingertips. It ended at the neck.
Right now, it was being designed to open from the front. There was a series of locks that let it open up from the front so I could step back into it.
God damn, if I didn't feel like Tony Stark...
I chuckled as I held the gauntlet plating in my hand. I began to weld it on. It certainly wasn't too thick, but it was strong enough to take a slash from Qrow, who I "convinced" to help me. It was also pretty damn light, so I went ahead and had all of the wires coated in it, only after I covered then in rubber first.
Also, high voltage wires were expensive. We only had so much we could spend on our weapons, and about half of mine was taken up by the wires and framing. There was another, smaller chunk of my budget that was being eaten by the metal.
I finished that one up and moved onto the other forearm. It would've costed way too much for me to have a full set of armor, so I settled on shinguards and arm guards.
I sat there, gently humming, as I welded on the remaining armor plates.
I wiped the sweat from my brow as it sat in front of me, completed. I put down the welding torch and took off the mask. I went ahead and put them back, walking past a few other people who were working on their weapons.
I went back to my armor and decided it was time to try it on. The entire suit was based on a connection to my aura, so I pressed my hand against it and let it open up. The way it spread open was satisfying to watch.
I turned around and awkwardly backed into it. Once it felt my back touch it, I clenched my hand, pressing a switch I put into the palm of the exoskeleton. That seemed like an accurate way of describing the suit. The ribcage of the exoskeleton folded it and lined up perfectly with my ribs, going just between each of my ribs. It fit comfortably, and I looked at myself as I bent my arms and legs.
Perfect. I guess that crazy little girl did know what she was doing after all.
I took a deep breath and walked over to the armory. It was just next to the giant room I was in. Once I got there, I grabbed a crystal of lightening dust and set in the pouch at my waist.
Only one thing to do now.
I went to the training room, where I found a few people dueling. "Hey, can one of you two help me out real quick?" The two of them turned to me, one sighing and the other confused.
"Yeah, sure. What is it?"
"Long story short, I need you to hit me."
"What?"
"Punch me."
"Why?"
"I am begging to be punched. Please punch me."
"Alright... I guess I will?" They walked up to me and hit me in the chest.
They also caught a pretty hefty shock from my armor. Not enough to do any real damage, but it definitely was noticeable. They jumped back. "What the hell was that?"
I turned and started walking away. "Just a little thing I've been working on."
I went back and grabbed my journal. I wrote down a thing or two.
Finally got the damn armor to work, but we're calling it an exoskeleton now. I guess that little girl did know what she was talking about.
Author's Note.
Sup?
I've made a few decisions, so you're gonna see major changes to my pacing. There's also been a few major changes I've decided to do, so I'm gonna end up renaming the story. I'll explain the old title after I fully decide on a title. Anyways, the pacing changes largely relate me getting through the exposition, so yeah.
See yah.