It was dark and cloudy, the sky threatening to rain on the normally peaceful neighborhood night. Tonight, however, was anything but peaceful.

The sounds of yelling could be heard from the neighbors house.

"JUST LEAVE THEN!" came a female voice, shrill and echoing in the otherwise quiet night, shocked into silence. Mrs. Kennyson winced as she turned the volume on her TV up a few notches, hoping to somehow drown out the argument of her young next door neighbors.

"FINE! I'LL LEAVE!" the slamming of the door soon followed. Andrew McConnell from across the street asked his father why they were so angry. His father replied with a kind and concerned 'I don't know'.

The decade or two old tin can of a van started in the driveway. It ran there for a few minutes as a young man with blond hair and brown eyes sat there, his head resting dully on the wheel. He was a fairly handsome person, not an Amadeus, but a handsome enough man. His face was that of a cuban, something he got from his father. His hair, straight and beach boy shaggy blond was a genetic gift from his mother, an American. During the man's moping, the clouds had decided to dump their laden weight upon the earth. The rain fell heavy on the van, dinging on the roof of the small house. The man backed out of the driveway, cursing the poor conditions for driving. He needed to get away.

Well, he could always visit Daisy and Colby. Colby was a calm and collected individual. He would know what to do. Daisy was really nice as well. She always had his favorite coffee ready for him whenever he visited.

You know you fucked up, right? Came the voice in his head he had dubbed Conscious. You knew what you were doing was wrong, but you went ahead and-

Oh shut up. He thought, slowing down for a red light. It continued to pour. He took the opportunity to check his pockets. Wallet? Check. Phone? Check. He sighed, driving at the green glow emitted from the light, the water running down the curbs of the streets. As he drove to their mountain resort lodge thing, he continued to stew on what had happened. Yes, he had fucked up majorly. A loving girlfriend, a shared house, a nice job in engineering. What could he want more? Well, apparently the excitement of keeping secrets. Like having an affair with one of his co-workers. It was nice… he guessed. But he knew that, if given the choice, he would choose the life he had before that mistake in a heartbeat. It's not like she didn't keep secrets from you though. There are things that she kept from you that you deserved to know. And there was the other half of his mind. The one that lied and twisted words, the darker half of his mind. The justifier and the manipulator. It was the half that kept him alive, in a sense. He turned left, driving up the corkscrew road of Mount Ragon. His phone buzzed in his pocket. "Who is it now?" the driver grumbled, fishing for his phone in his pocket. Zoey.T is what the phone read. He hit the deny button. He did not want to deal with his girlfriend- no. by now she was most definitely his ex. There was no way he was being forgiven. She was far too unforgiving for that. He drove onwards, tossing the device onto the passenger seat.

It buzzed again, seemingly angrier than last time. He glanced at it. Part of him wanted to answer it. To hope for the best, that they could indeed talk this out. He killed the thought with a grimace. The rain pounded against the car relentlessly, as though it were trying to breach the metal exterior of the old van. He marched onward up the mountain, cursing himself and her throughout the trip.

The phone buzzed a third time. Zoey.T showed on the screen again. He rolled his eyes, reaching for the blasted device. He turned his head, only to be blinded by some fool driving down the mountain with their damned brights on. The driver of the van held his hand up, trying to block the light, but was blinded just enough to not see what was ahead of him. There was a turn up ahead, but it was too late for the van to notice. The Van swerved, trying, grasping for traction against the slippery road. It was in vain. The van turned over the guard rail, falling down the steep mountain side. The poor man felt his body slam against the side of the car, and most definitely felt his shoulder break. He saw the large pine that the car was careening towards. He braced himself as the van slammed its side into the pine, bending the car in half. The tree was wrecked as well, being bent to the ground at the point of impact. He heard something snap, like plastic breaking. He felt the cords around his chest zip up into the neutral position of unuse, the buckle hanging limply off it.

His seatbelt had just broken.

Shit.

The car continued to fly down the mountain, and came upon another poor tree to bring low. It hit this one head on, and the seatbelt lacking driver flew out the windshield, breaking the glass with ease. He saw the branch approach him at alarming rates. He rammed his face into a pine tree. His consciousness didn't even have a chance to hit the ground.

POV Switch: First person

Pain. That's what I was in. My entire body was sore, tired, and aching. "Ow'' I muttered softly, drawing the word out. "Ah, Mr. Cortez. You're awake finally. How are you feeling?" came a feminime voice from the darkness. I squinted my eyes open, taking in the sterile white room. It looked reminiscent of a field hospital, with white cloth instead of interior walls. Beep Beep Beep went to the heart moninter by my bed. "This doesn't look like Saint Richard's." I managed to grumble, looking around. The nurse next to me was a relatively plump woman with toasted skin. She was marking something down on her clipboard. "Of course it's not. This is Beacon Academy. Namely the medical ward. You're lucky we found you Mr. Cortez. You were in really bad condition when Team CABL got you here. Found you in the river in the Forest, they did. Anyway, how are you feeling?" she asked, her wolf ears twitching. Her tail shifted behind her. Huh, that was new.

Wait, Wolf ears? Tail?
"I'm in pain. Uhhhh… quick question?" I tentatively asked. "What exactly… uh, are you?"

"What do you mean?" she asked innocently

"The, uh, those." I gestured to her ears awkwardly. She looked confused, reaching up and touching her ears lightly. I nodded slowly, confusion becoming even more evident on my face.

"Mr. Cortez, have you never seen a faunus?" she laughed, the hint of awkwardness was not missed on me.

A what now?
"A what now?" I asked, very much unaware what a faunus was.

The poor nurse just stared blankly at me. I stared back, waiting for both an explanation and waiting for her to say something. Because I sure as hell wasn't.

"You mean to tell me that there are a bunch of literal half-furries wandering around for the last god knows how long, and no one knows where they came from? And normal- I mean humans don't like them for being part animal? I understand that right, ms. Roxanne?" I asked incredulously. Nurse Roxanne had just explained the short version of the entire history of Faunus. I was stunned, flabbergasted, confused, and very possibly been bamboozled. This was a strange ass hospital I had woken up in. maybe it's a dream? I thought. I decided to pinch myself hard in the arm. Nope, not a dream. Still hurt, I could most definitely feel pain.

God fucking damn it.

"Uhh, pardon me, Ms. Roxanne?'' I spoke, grabbing her attention from fiddling with the heart monitor.

"Yes, Mr. Cortez?"

"Where am I, exactly?" I said, emphasizing the exact part of the sentence.

"Why, I thought that I had already answered that question, but you had quite a concussion. So I suppose that it's only normal. You are at Beacon Academy."

Never heard of Beacon Academy. "And where is that? I've never heard of it." Again i got a blank stare

"You're kidding, right? You've never heard of the most prestigious huntsman school in all of the kingdom of vale?"
"The kingdom of what? Value? I…'' I wracked my brain to try to remember where a kingdom of vale would be on a map. I failed. "Have no idea where that is."

For the third time, a blank stare of complete and utter disbelief dawned over her face.

So, I am now only 75% sure that I am in a different world. I was now, by this time, allowed to get up and move about, but under the watchful eye of one of the staff members. Mostly Nurse Roxanne, but every once and awhile another teacher would watch me. It was within the day that I met Headmaster Ozpin: a thin, lanky man with eyes that held far too much knowledge and wisdom in them. He seemed neither old nor young, but in the indescribable state of mere existence. His straight silver hair gave no sign of age, nor did the wrinkles in his face. His eyes, however, gave away aeons of experience. The very way he held himself, in his voice to his shoulders to the way he sat, spoke of immeasurable age. "So, Sebastian," he began, sitting on the other end of the hospital bed where I resided. My arm was still in a sling, and my head was bandaged. "I am told that you had quite a concussion. Tell me, if you will, where are you from?"

"Cuba sir. I am from Cuba, but I've been living in the United States for the last three years or so." His head cocked to the side slightly at the mention of these names.

"Could you kindly point those out on a map for me Sebastian? I am unfamiliar with those places." the headmaster said, pulling out his phone. No, scroll. They're called scrolls here. He tapped a few times, and put the phone in front of me. I stared at the map, looking at the unfamiliar continents. "Uhhh… this is not the world map that I know." I started weakly.

Even Ozpin gave me a blank stare. "...What?"

"You mean to tell me that you are from another world?"

They stood in a great office, with gears ticking away in the emerald glass walls. The two of us, Ozpin and I, spoke of my past. And what I feared possibly the most right now. I was, most certainly, in another world. Or at least that or this was a very well done prank. But I doubted that, because that would have been one hell of a prank. "Yeeeeesssss." i said tentatively.

Ozpin stared at me with the confusion of seeing something that should not exist, or like looking at a math problem where someone divided by zero and got an answer with no real mistakes. His expression shifted after a while, looking at me intently, pensively.

"Mr. Cortez?"

"Yes, Sir- Professor- Headmast- what do I call you? Headmaster? Professor?" I replied, not wanting to insult the man. He seemed dangerous, but for no real reason.

"Professor is fine, Sebastian. As I was saying, I have a proposition for you."

"Yes? Which is?"

"I would like for you to join my school."
… What?

"Are you… sure about that?" I asked, almost asking the headmaster if he was right in the head. I was just barely able to hold my tongue.

"Yes, I am sure Mr. Cortez. And yes, I am perfectly sane. However, before you join my school, you must understand two things. Firstly, this is a school of combat, where we teach Huntsman how to, well, hunt and kill Grimm, protecting our borders."

Grimm. That's right. The weird ass Demon things that were the current major issue for humanity and faunus kind.

"And secondly, Mr. Cortez, this line of work is dangerous. Deadly even. I cannot guarantee your safety or wellbeing. Knowing that, would you willingly join Beacon Academy?"

Hrmm… that was troubling. I knew no one else on this planet besides the people at Beacon, and getting home would be nice. But I also did find the idea...well, one could say tempting, even.

"Eh, sure, why not? Could be fun." I shrugged, noting the fraction of a second that Ozpin's face became one of flabbergast. Such blatant disrespect for one's own safety? Who had ever heard of such a thing?

"Excellent. Now, before I officially enroll you, you must understand that all of our students have already proven themselves, by either a primary combat school or by voucher. You have neither, unfortunately. So, I have decided to set up a test of sorts for you."

"This test being?" I asked, noticing the slightly evil, aloof glint in his eyes. That could not be good.

"Have you ever gone camping?"

"And by camping, you mean abandoning me on a mountain for a week?" I asked incredulously, looking over the drop zone from the bull head. Ozpin only smiled at this, sipping his ever present mug of coffee. Now, jumping out of planes had never really been my thing, but hey, time for something new, Right? I'm only in a different world with animal people and coffee addicted headmasters that train college students to fight demons. Yeah, everything is under control. Breath Cortez, you'll be fine.

"Are you ready to drop, Mr. Cortez?" asked the headmaster

"No. not at all." i laughed out nervously

"Too bad. Off you go!" I was pushed out of the bullhead by Ozpin's cane to my back, falling to my supposive doom.

Again.

By some miracle the trees did not break my legs on impact. They only severely scratched the hell out of them. My arm is still broken though.

Owww. That hurt badly. Almost as bad as hitting my head on a branch at high velocities. I sat up, dusting myself off with my good arm.

Now all I had to do is survive.

And lords know that that would be harder than it should be. I looked around the mountain base, I saw the ruin of buildings, old and abandoned skyscrapers reaching out of the mountain. It reminded me of those photos of post bombed cities.

"What happened here?" I asked aloud to no one in particular, scanning the area for helpful things. There were pretty standard bits of scrap and what not lying around. "Shelter is objeto número uno right now. So let's get moving Cortez." I began to walk towards the mountain peak, because why not?

It took a little over an hour to find anything of interest, and that was an unfortunate skeleton corpse laying by the road. It wore a lengthy brown trench coat, the last bits of skin and flesh, amorphized due to exposure to the world. A dusty clay brown hat laid at his stomach, his hand laying atop it. What really caught my attention was the wood handle protruding out of the skeleton's inner pocket. I carefully moved the hand and hat out of the way, revealing a rather well crafted gun hidden in the inner pocket of the coat like jacket thing. I'm calling it a jacket, despite what Abuelo would say. Ozpin did say that this area was dangerous during the briefing, didn't he?.

Nah, I really should not disturb the dead like that, right?

You know, I am very impressed with this jacket. Fit me like a pretty well, despite it being a little big in the shoulders. And a little long, the flaps reaching down to just past my knees. Despite that, it was damn comfy and warm against the nippy breezes. That hat also fit relatively well, snuggly around my head. 6 shots were in the gun, and another six in a loop around the hat interestingly enough. The sun had fallen, and the sky was painted in reds and blues. A shattered moon hung in the sky.

Did I just rob a dead man of all his worldly possessions? Mostly, yeah, you did Sebastian.

It's not like he was using them, came the voice of selfish reason.

Still, you gotta do what you gotta do, right?

Anyway, I still need to find shelter sometime pretty soon. The suns were going down, so I dipped into one of the abandoned buildings, hoping it would not collapse on me during my sleep. I sat down, back against a wall. I breathed out, noting the puff of cloud that came from my mouth. I huddled up, noting that it was now damn cold. "I feel that a fire will be necessary. Time to find some damn sticks." I got up, pushing myself off the cold ground. I turned the corner out of my shelter, in hopes of finding some firewood. And those look like wolves. Big, big wolves that are way too close to me. They also were really black, with large white spines hunched out of them.

Wait… oh right. These things are called Beowolfs. They're like the standard grimm here, eat flesh off of people, savage monsters, yada yada.

The pack advanced on me slowly, encasing me in a semi circle, lit up by the fractured moon. I could not help but feel that I was in danger. Oh wait, I'm a person. They eat humans. They will try to eat me. I am in danger. A brilliant observation Watson!

I quickly fumbled with my handgun that I acquired earlier today, and cocked the handle. This set something off in the pack, because no longer they advanced upon me, slow and menacing. Now, one after the other leaped at me. It was by a flinch reaction that I pulled the trigger, the recoil blasting my arm back.

Bang. The bullet flew through the lower jaw of the beast, cracking through the upper portion of the mast, just above the eye. It fell to the ground, dissolving into black masma. Another crack of the gun, this time into another one's side, I spun away to avoid another pounce of the pack.
Bang. Bang. another round of bullets went into the beowulf, this time into its chest. It too dissolved into ash and smoke.

Bang. I rolled away from a swipe of a third claw. This one took the lead into its eyes. gracias a los cielos para abuelo. Without him being such a gun nut, I would most definitely be dead. I really should give him a call sometime, thanking him for being fucking insane.

Bang. another beowulf took a bullet in its shoulder. Bang. it fell mid jump, yet another lump of lead striking it in the stomach. "Bad Doggie." I smirked, laughing internally at my jest.

Bang. The third bullet was unnecessary, but it would ease the things passing into smoke at least. My gun clicked as I readied another shot. There was no bullet in the chamber unfortunately. I pulled off my hat, reloading my gun with the bullets in the loop. The air smelled of gunpowder, burnt nitrogen and charcoal. I sighed, holstering my gun back into my inner pocket, and walked down the mountain. It took me almost half an hour before I found enough sticks to start enough of a fire to keep the chill away. As I walked down, I stepped on what appeared to be a canister? A bottle? Some strange Cylinder about a third of a meter long and a solid 5 centimeters thick. I picked it up, noting the lever attached to the side of it. I gripped the handle, lever included, and I watched the cylinder unfold into a… It's a shovel. This weird ass thing just turned into a shovel. I of course by this time had learned Mechashift technology, but why would someone waste that on a shovel? It didn't even have a gun form as far as I could see. I shook my head, swinging the shovel in my left hand experimentally. It was nicely balanced at least, sharp blade to it too. I thought as I ran my finger along the head of the shovel, the smallest slit of blood appearing on my finger. Well, it's not like anyone really wants this thing, right? I hope so. I trudged back up to my shelter, the cloudless sky letting the moon illuminate my path. I started with setting up my fire, rubbing the two sticks together over the tinder. It took way too damn long to get a spark out of it, and even longer to get the fire started. Several attempts, two very sore arms, and a whole lot of cursing later, I had a nice, cozy fire set up.

Ozpin watched his screen with interest, rewinding to Sebastian's fight with the beowolves. Ozpin had a drone watching his newest… interest. Yes, interest was a good word for it. Someone with no aura, from what he presumed to be another world, was doing surprisingly well on this 'Test'. The boy had an accent that the headmaster had never heard of, close to a Menagerie accent, but different. Ozpin saw no deceit in the boy's eyes when he questioned him about his life, despite the disbelief that he could be from another realm.

He could not qualify as a project, like the maidens or the relics, or even the very large one against his ex wife, Salem. He was not yet a player on the board, but had some potential. His fighting was sloppy, unpracticed, and similar to a man trying to survive. The headmaster chuckled, supposing that is exactly what was going on. The poor boy was only trying to survive, after all. For one week. He had to survive for one week.

No, he would not become a project. But, he would be an interesting experiment.

Ozpin chuckled, watching the boy struggle to start a fire against the frigid cold.

So, it's been a few days since I was dropped on the mountain. I would say that I was more or less halfway though. No other grimm had bothered me since the beowolves. I had set up something akin to a routine. Wake up, make sure you're not dead, go find some mushrooms or something to eat or some tubers or something. I'm not even sure if what i'm eating is edible, but I'm not dead yet. So I've got that goin for me. Come to think of it, what in the everloving fuck is going on? I mean, first, I fall off a cliff and wake up in a strange ass place with literal monsters that turn into smoke when they die, everyone one has magic crystal "Dust" that powers everything more or less, and pretty much everyone I've met so far has both a literal force field, but also a unique ability that is literal magic. I mean, Ozpin's secretary can move things with her mind, and I've seen the combat teacher make electrical storms with a snap of her fingers. I wonder what the other students are like. Probably nothing like me at all, come to think of it. I mean, I'm just a Cuban American engineering student who's stuck in a separate world, trying to find a way to last a week in this dammen abandoned city.

You know, I am oddly calm about being in a different world. I guess that part of me was still convinced this was a dream, despite the knicks and small cuts on me to prove otherwise. I

On the off hand, I gotta say, this coat, despite being only cloth, was damn near invincible. I mean, while I had no beowulf attacks to actually hit me, it did not seem to get injured by the brambles I walked through, or snag on any branches. I felt my phone buzz, pulling it out from my jean pocket. Headmaster Oz it read.
"Hola, Senor Ozpin. Como estas? Bien eso espero." i answered in spanish, my native tongue.

"...I'm sorry, what?" came the befuddled response

"Hello, Headmaster. How are you? Good, I hope." I repeated, in english this time, laughing silently to myself. Damned habit. And it's not one I ever intend to break.

"Yes, yes, I am fine. However, there has been a change to your trial. It ends today, and there is a bull head waiting for you at the end of the mountain on the other side. Your new mission is to get there before the sun sets. Should you fail, you will have to stay here the rest of the week." I shuddered, wanting to get off this damned mountain. If i had the chance to get out of this place i would damn well take it. "Uh, Headmaster Ozpin?"

"Yes Sebastian?"
"Where is the Bull head, exactly? This mountain is kind of large."

Opin only laughed, and hung up on me. Son of a bitch. Hrmm, well, let's think Sebastian. Knowing what I know about Ozpin, it is in the most impossible place to get to. "Now, where would that be… son of a bitch" I said, laying eyes on the bull head flying overhead, heading off set from the mountain, flying by in a direct line. I took off, never letting it get out of my sight. I ran onwards to the direction it went, my legs started to burn, but I managed to keep the bullhead in my sight. Until I got fucking body slammed by an unknown object, which I later found out is called an ursa. My firearm flew from its pocket, just out of reach from my arm, connected to my ground pinned torso. My left hand went for my shovel, unleashing it in all of its dirt digging glory. I slammed the blade into the thing's skull, keeping it's large jaws away with my right hand.
Whunk. I shoved the head away, catching the bone crushing strength of the bear's open paw into my ribs.

Whunk. I slammed my shovel into its face again, and a third time

Whunk. Whunk. CRACK. The Ursas mask cracked, the wide divide splitting over its left eye, the shovel embedded into the flesh underneath. The great bear, enraged, bit down on my right shoulder. I could not say that I took the blow with any grace, screaming and writhing under the jaws grip. Gritting my teeth, I slammed my free arm on the handle of the shovel, digging it deeper. I rammed my fist again, a near quarter of the blade was embedded in its face. At this point, the beast had let go of my arm, but I wanted my god damn shovel, and this mother fucker would not be living with it stuck in his ugly mug for much longer. The Ursa began to back off, its prey unexpectedly fighting back with enough force to injure it. And that prey was an angry mother fucker. I lept at the monster, giving it a haymaker to the right side of its face. While that was not enough to actually hurt it, it gave me time to grab my shovel.

And pry it's goddamn face in two.

I ripped the shovel inwards, cutting though the rest of the left half of its skull. It fell, dissolving into ash and smoke, as they all do. The sound of the snapping of bones rung in my ears. I shook my head clear of the sound. Limping back, I grabbed my gun, and went off in search of the bull head. The rest of my post combat limp went uneventful, but the reaction of the flight crew was priceless. I can only imagine that it must look like an 18 year old kid running at you, bleeding from the shoulder. Interestingly enough, the coat had seemed to have mended itself (?) from the bite mark, despite it not actually protecting me from the pierce of bear jaws. That was interesting, most definitely something I would have to look into. But their faces were something beautiful. At first they just looked up from their phones (scrolls, Seb. they are called scrolls.) and back down. Then what they had just seen clicked in their heads, and snapped back up at me, bug eyed. Then they gave me medical attention. Gracias a dios. I was flown back to Beacon. Ozpin greeted us at the landing bay, his ever present coffee in hand. "I must say, Mr. Cortez, you have surprised me. I thought you would die on your first or second night on the mountain. However, you both survived and completed the bonus objective. You may consider yourself enrolled in Beacon." he smiled, serenely taking a sip of coffee. I limped toward him, using my shovel as a crutch kind of, despite it being only up to my waist in height when deployed.

"Thank you for your voto de confianza, Headmaster." I deadpanned, rubbing my shoulder.

"Oh dear. Yes, I saw your fight with the ursa. An interesting choice of a weapon, but whatever works. Anyway, we really should get you to the medical wing immediately. Could you two please escort Mr. Cortez to the medical wing. Excellent. I will be seeing you soon Mr. Cotez." he walked off, disappearing into his school. I was quickly escorted to the medical wing, met by my favorite nurse by far in the school, Nurse Roxanne. She was my favorite because Ms. Tsune is both bat shit insane insane and frankly, kind of scary.

It had been a near week since I was released from the watchful eye of Nurse Roxanne, and I was deemed ready to participate in the Initiation for Beacon. Headmaster Ozpin had graciously lent me access to the forges and the student armory, supplying basic rounds of ammunition. I learned that you would have to buy your own specialty dust rounds, and most students bought their own rounds anyway. Beyond this, Ms. Goodwitch was kind enough to take me shopping to get me some more clothes that were less destroyed. I had decided on a rather old, but suave style. Brown vests and pants that more or less matched my trench coat, and a variety of cheaper, plain ties. And several plain white button down shirts. Speaking of my coat, I found out from the taylor that it was a specialty Dust infused coat, which made it particularly resistant to injury, and could repair itself in less than extreme cases. So, that was cool. I also had gotten myself a holster for my gun, and a secondary belt loop over my shoulder. Namely for things like grenades, when I got around to getting those.

What do you need grenades for? A part of me asked. Is shooting things not enough?

Sebastian. The 'reasonable' half deadpanned at me. There are people whose weapon is a literal rocket launcher/ grenade launcher / golf club combo that could probably launch nukes. Almost every weapon here is some form of death machine, most likely also a gun. Not having grenades is probably frowned upon.

I'll deal with that later. For now, I have an Initiation to survive. First things first, Orientation. I truly hope that it's not as boring as some of the other orientations I've been a part of. And that was happening at lunch today. I took a deep breath, finishing tying my tie, a simple cobalt blue, and buttoning up my vest. The gray inner fur skin of the trenchcoat was heavy, but breathed easily, surprisingly. Must be an effect of the dust. I took a cloth out from my vest pocket, wiping my smudged glasses clean. It had been quite a while since I had the chance to really look at myself in the mirror. My sandy blond hair, straight and long, went to just barely the nape of my neck, my bangs would poke out of my hat and onto my face when I put it on. I had a perminate case of hat hair, unfortunately. That came from my mother. My eyes, dark and brown, like the molasses of my Cuban home jars stacked in the pantry, came from my father. As did my darker skin tone, just pass the shade of red oak wood. My mind wandered back to my home in Cuba. the stilted cabin just less than a mile from the beach, the family communal farm, which stretched for acres along the rolled hills, with my cousins and family friends running through them. The smell of the tropical air, salty sea and raw sugar and clean green plants. Rum and fresh warm fruit. I missed my home. I sighed, watching the streams of students pour in from the main entrance, the South wing.

Beacon Academy was built like a compass, which made navigation easy (ish). The wall, a perfect circle encircling the four main wings and the four dormitories. The four main wings, North, South, East and West, were connected by two rings. One at the very end, near the outer wall. This ring was also the end of the wings, leading to a courtyard of stone and shrubs. This encircled the main tower, which was the teachers tower. Ozpin's office, the teacher dormitories, etc. were here. The four wings ended near 30 ft from the outer wall. From the outer wall sprung the student dormitories and additional storage space. These were the northeast, northwest, southeast and southwest buildings. Along each axis along the wall, one for each angle of the compass (north, northeast, east, southeast, south, etc.) there was a smaller tower. All of the towers were connected by arches that no one seemed to use. I heard the drone of bull heads, which meant the students were being dropped off. I sighed, buttoning up my vest and putting on my coat and belt. I exited the dorm, duffling over my shoulder, that I was sleeping in. I quickly joined the other students. Jesus de Montoya, it looked a bit like an anime convention here, with all of the cosplay level outfits. I glanced around nervously, looking at all these people who were, by far, much more qualified to be a student here than I was. So many things that could kill me, just casually in sheaths on their backs or hips. It's not like I was not openly carrying a gun, but still. We all shuffled into the main hall, groups already being formed. Somewhere small, numbering only one or two. Others were rather large. I noticed some poor blond being swamped by people. Huh, must be popular. I thought, pitying the poor man. I never liked the idea of being popular. I wandered around, not knowing anyone at all, and opted to be in the back of the group. As we entered the large auditorium, Ozpin walked onto the stage, his ever present coffee in hand. It laid to rest at the podium, along with ozpin, resting his hand on the sides, leaning in it. He reminded me of the old pictures of Wilson as president.

"Students, as you all know, I am professor Ozpin, headmaster of this great Academy. Now I welcome you as the next generation of pioneers, the next generation of protectors and saviors, the next generation of huntsmen. And it is my proud honor to teach you, along with the other staff members, how to be a defender of humanity. For when I look at this room, I see unlimited potential." I zoned out after this point, because the rest of the speech went in the same tone. Inspiring, but absoluta jarga y mierda in my opinion. We were then told that we would be sleeping in this auditorium for tonight. Afterwards, several tours of the school were given out to groups of students after lunch. I did not go on this, already having both a month to explore the school and having the tour being given to me. So I just grabbed a sleeping bag and set up in the corner. While I was placing everything in order, a boy with a bucket helmet and armor walked up to him. "Hello. I am Shawnold Clayton. Mind if I sit here?" I looked up to see a tall, lanky ass man in some kind of half plate mail armor that protected his upper torso and arms, along with shin guards. "Sure. Mind if I just call you Shawn, friend?" I asked, gesturing vaguely to have a seat. His armor clunked as he sat down. "I mind not. And who may you be, Friend?" he asked, tilting his bucket helmet at me.

"Sebastian. Sebastian Cortez." I held out my hand for a shake. He shook it with a firm grip, and we sat in silence for a while. "Soo.. what do you do? Combat wise. You like a knight, but I would hate to make assumptions." I said, trying to start some kind of conversation, even if to kill the silence.

"Me? I am a knight of the House of Clayton. I have my sword, Nattemere Dräpare, which can be a close range heavy shotgun. I also have Isbett, my side arm." He stated, the sound of his helm echoing and metalizing his voice. He pulled out his two weapons, a two handed long sword that split down the middle, the handle flipping downwards to create a large barrelled shotgun, or so he claimed. Isbett was a dagger. "I also glow."

At this I choked on air. "I-I'm sorry, you do what?" I said, regaining my breath.

"I can glow."

"Really? That's so cool! Can you show me?" I exclaimed, excited at the idea of human bioluminescence.

"Uhh, I cannot claim to see why not. It is not really something that I take particular pride in, nor is it something that is that exciting." he said, tilting his confused head at me. He then took a deep breath in, and small bits of light waved over him, like a tie dye glow stick. My jaw kind of dropped at this. "That is… Really Cool! Do you know how you do it? Is it an aura based thing? Do you produce an inactive enzyme?" I asked, practically teleporting around him and his unusual glowly- ness. "It's just a semblance. I don't really understand why you're so… excited about this?" Shawn asked, very much confused.

"Oh, we don't have semblances at home. Or atleast, I've never seen one." I said nonchalantly, waiving off his question.

He turned his head to me. "Uhh, if you're giving me the stink eye, your helmet's kind of blocking any expression."

"Oh, right." he said, taking off his helmet. Once I saw his face, it realized he looked rather plain. Pale skin, a couple what I could only assume to be acne scars(?) and an egg shaped head. Short buzz cut brown hair that would curl to hell if it was any longer. He shifted his expression from one of mild embarrassment to one of a blank stare, much like the one Ozpin gave me when we met.

"What?"

"You've never seen a semblance before? Ever?"

"I mean, I know about them, but I've never seen one in the flesh, no."

"How is that possible? I mean, you must have come from some combat school… Right?" he looked at me, as if I was someone of minor danger.

"No. never went to any esquela de combate. I'm a special case. Here on merits." I shrugged, taking out my revolver, cleaning the barrel with my glasses cloth. Shawns eyes widened when I pulled it out.

"Uhhh, Mr. Cortez?" he started, tentatively, as if I was holding a bomb. I mean, I kind of was. A very small bomb powered metal launcher was more accurate, but still.

"Yeah man?" I asked, looking at him. "Sebastian is fine, by the way"

"Sebastian." he corrected, "How old is that… firearm?"

"I have no clue. Why?"

He stared at me like I was absolutely clueless. "Sebastian. That style of firearm is both very very old and very much outdated. It's not been used since... since the great war! It may have stopped seeing combat before then! Where did you even get such a weapon?" he cried out. At this point, some of the students had returned.

"I looted it off a corpse." I shrugged, putting the firearm back into its holster. The priceless look of partial shock, partial disbelief on Shawns face was simply amazing, one for the books. "Please tell me your kidding." he groaned, laying his face in his gauntleted hands.

"Nope. mans gotta do what a mans gotta do." I smiled, laying down on my sleeping bag. My hat tipped over my eyes India Jones style.

"Going to sleep? Already?" Asked Shawn. "We still have at least a few hours before lights out."

"Nah. but you stick a couple hundred kids in one room, Drama is bound to happen. I would prefer that I be assumed asleep when it happens." I paused, thinking about the order of things that should be done. "Before that, however, I think bathing would be a good idea. Come on, You should probably get clean before the baths get crowded." I got up, grabbing my brown duffle. Ms. Goodwitch got it for me, and she somehow got it to fit with my outfit, in sandy and dark leather browns. Inside was a fresh pair of clothes and a towel, along with a bar of soap.

Shawn's face turned beat red as he sputtered something"Y-You want m-me to join you? In the shower? Are you mad?!" he managed to get out.

"You do realize that there are stalls for the showers, right? Or at least they're communal. You act as though I'm offering sex or something." Shawn was kind of cute, but I had already learned my lesson with that. Not a mistake I wanted to make again.

"Uhh, you ok?" Shawn asked, looking somewhat concerned at me. My face had soured into an angry looking grimace. I shook my head, clearing the self loathing emotion. I strided swiftly to the bath house from the south wing. The south wing had most of the Public buildings beyond classrooms. It contained the Cafeteria, Auditorium (where we reside now.) Library, and the gym/ Bath House. This last location was my goal, hoping to get there and wash off my dirt and grime. Maybe even scrub it off myself. I reached my destination quickly, and quickly readied myself. By the time I was in a stall, the warm water was washing over me. I could hear Shawns plate armor coming off and the shower next to mine turning on. I washed quickly, rubbing the ash wood scented soap onto my skin. After I washed and dried quickly, I dressed in my usual sleeping attire: AKA pants and, for modesty's sake, a plain old white shirt. By the time I had finished packing my things, the rest of the group began to enter and pack in, forcing the communal open showers to be put to use. I unabashedly admired the physique of these budding huntsmen. Muscles and toned stomachs galore. I left soon after that, allowing for others to take the space I once took. I strided once again to my sleeping corner, shrugging on my dust infused coat. One great thing about that coat was it never got dirty or stunk of day old man stench. Never had to wash it, which was great. Also, it seemed to change itself to a degree to fit the climate. Man, I already loved dust. As people began to trickle into the commons area, I noticed one particularly tall girl, standing at a solid 6'4, if not taller. Not only was she tall as hell, she also was built like a mountain, and probably did bodybuilding. That was judging on those muscles that were about as thick as god damn trees. Jesus christ, I could do enough steriods to give Hulk Hogan a fucking anurism and not be that ripped. There were some faunus around, but mostly humans. The majority of the world's faunus population was in Menagerie, if I remember correctly. I sighed, looking out the window, at the broken moon that hung above. Well, might as well take a nap now. My hat returned to its Indiana Jones position, and I passed out for the night.