Author's Note: Long time no see, eh? Sorry about the delay between chapters, I've been getting burned out recently, mainly on work. I figured I'd take a few off for my health, and to make sure that I could continue making quality chapters for you fine folks. Granted, this one is still pretty short, but I had a bunch of life stuff happening this week, so I needed to prioritize it.

That being said, I'm getting back into the swing of things, so I'm gonna make sure to work hard to feel worthy of the praise you guys have given me thus far. So, let's get back into it.

Chapter 44

Carol stepped out of the sweltering streets of Vale and into the weapons shop, taking a moment to look over the list he'd created on his notepad. Okay, need to find a fresh ingot of Valean steel, some Dust paint, and...well, whatever else I can think I'll need or want. Preparation for the future was always on his mind. Just because he didn't have a use for it now didn't mean he wouldn't have one later. And though he didn't really have anything to do that day, there was still no reason to waste time, and he stepped up to the counter to enlist the help of the clerk.

He passed by rows of parts, replacement triggers, springs, and even spare magazines, and on the wall behind the clerk were posters of the freshest and hottest items, all proudly proclaiming 'In stock now!' Shaking his head at the poster of the newest crap Bell had placed onto the market, he approached the counter and was greeted by a middle aged man, a smile crawling across his well-worn face. "Afternoon, sir." Carol offered, receiving a nod.

"Afternoon, son. You lookin' for anything?"

"Yes, I am. I need a set of ingots of Valean steel and some Dust paint. Would ya mind pointin' me towards it?" The older man blinked, raising an eyebrow.

"Raw materials? Y'sure you don't want somethin' pre-built?"

"No sir, I'm lookin' for the base materials. I'm a Blacksmith, y'see." Carol pulled out his scroll, tapping and bringing up his identification. It wasn't asked for, but he had the habit of providing proof because more often than not people didn't believe him. The old man's brow rose entirely, before he nodded.

"Alright, then. I swear, you all get younger by the day..." Carol smiled as the older man chuckled to himself. "Haven't seen you around here too much. You just get in town?"

"Nah, I've been here for about a few months. Haven't had much work, so I haven't needed to get much materials. Hopefully the new client I got will spread the word around."

"Well I can help ya out. All I need is an address and I can put ya in the system if anyone's lookin' for work done." Carol smiled, rubbing the back of his head.

"Yeah, that's the thing, I'm workin' outta Beacon."

"You're a Huntsman in training?" Carol offered an evasive smile.

"Eh, that's close enough." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I need to get checkin' on the paint, if you wouldn't mind pointin' it out. Oh, right, the ingots as well."

"Well, the paint's over there." The old man pointed over towards some corner of the store. "The ingots...I've got to get that myself from the back. Is there anythin' else you're looking for?" Carol held a hand to his chin, shrugging.

"I...suppose some Dust would be good, or maybe some type of metal that's rare. Like Menagerian, if you have it." The two shared a smile. "Yeah, I know how rare that stuff is."

"Alright, I'll have to check. Suppliers are sending everythin' everywhere, with the tournament coming up." Something flashed in his eyes. "You need anythin' for yourself?"

"Nah. I got a short sword and armor, not much need for anythin' mechanical. Wait, actually, some polishing oil might be good." Carol appended before the man walked off.

"Alright, I'll be back in a bit. Look around, the shop's full of stuff you might need." Carol shrugged. The man had a point. With all the mecha-shift weapons about, it was a matter of time before Carol would need the additional parts. While he looked around for stuff that might be useful, he could think of whatever paint he'd need.

"...Melancholic bliss? Th'hell is that supposed to mean..." Well, melancholy usually was represented by cooler colors, so that was a good place to start, but bliss threw a wrench into that. Bliss was represented by brighter colors, white, teal, yellow, and others. Carol grabbed a set of assorted springs with a bold logo of ASI on the front, and snagged an abandoned cart to place it in. Now that he thought about it, wasn't there a dress in Ms. Van Tablack's shop that matched it perfectly?

Hey, yeah! There was! All he had to do was copy the color palette, and he'd- Wait, what if she noticed? Carol wasn't beyond taking inspiration from previous experiences, but the artiste would probably take offense. After all, it was her design, not his. At the best, he'd have to remake it. At worst, he'd have shot his leg off in regards to his reputation as an armorer. Sighing, he stepped onto the paint aisle, racking his mind for answers of a more personal nature.

Okay, so first up was melancholy. What did he himself find sad? He supported his chin with his hand, brow creasing in thought. It was hard to find something that he could accurately put colors to. Maybe something from his environment where he grew up? People always commented on the nights of Mantle, thought it was mainly of the cold. Some poets did comment on the barren loneliness of it, from what he could remember from his literature classes at the preparatory academy. That was still the most surprising thing to him, was that Beacon still had students taking classes that citizens took. Even down to trigonometry! Whoever needed to use math to calculate how long it would take Grimm to chase down a group of people fleeing and how long it would take for them to intercede clearly wasn't running fast enough to make a difference.

But that was a good basis to start off with. The night sky would have plenty to draw from, so he could paint the blade in various shades of blues and purples, and some white to dot the blade for the stars. Additionally, he could paint the edge of the blade with the same white to make it appears as if it were a thin line of snow. He could conceivably picture it, but it was a bit lacking on details. Keeping it simple was one thing, but boring and ordinary probably wouldn't cut it for an artiste like Van Tablack. So, what could he do?

Well, most people use flora to spice up their design. What does Solitas have for that? Carol picked up a can of Titanium White, depositing it in the cart while reaching for another marked Midnight Blue. The only thing coming to mind was the midnight flower, Myrtenaster. Something about it seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it. Shrugging, he picked up a can marked Deep Purple, and plopped it in the cart. On a whim, he picked up a pair of gloves. Dust paint was not fun to try to wash it off your skin. How to incorporate the flower, though? The base near the guard could work, and he could color the spine of the blade to match the stem of the flower. Not just that, but he could take inspiration from Autumnal Call and color a few of the petals from it onto the blade, as if it were falling down towards the snowy edge. He couldn't help the smile that came to his face. He loved it when a design came together.

But while the aesthetics of the blade came together, there was another matter of what he should do to it. Having the blade by itself was good, and he could definitely make it exceptionally well, it was still just a blade at the end of the day. Considering that he lived in a day and age where weapons were literal works of mechanical art, it wouldn't be a stretch to imagine that Arae would be disappointed in it's simplicity. Maybe it was time to look into just what Dust can do? For a start, he grabbed a few different sets of Dust related bits. Valves, depositories, and a shit ton of various tiny parts to mate with it. Okay, so that's paint done, random parts I might need as well, and a new avenue to research during Port's classes. All that was left was to pick up the steel and see about what types of Dust he could get.

Carol approached the counter once more, placing the various bits he'd acquired onto the counter, and patiently waiting for the man to return. Thankfully, he'd timed it well, and the man approached not long after he'd arranged his items on the counter.

"Ah, I see somethings caught your eye, huh?" A stack of silver-ish ingots was placed onto the counter, a darker and significantly smaller one being placed nearby. Carol's brows shot up.

"Yeah, it did. However..." He trailed off, looking at the blackened ingot next to the larger pile. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Yep. Pure Menagerian steel. Surprised I got any of it, probably the only one in town who did." Carol had to thank whatever being out there for providing him this chance. This was, quite literally, rarer than gold. The only reason why it wasn't more expensive than gold was because it was so rare, not many people incorporated it into their weapons. That didn't mean that it was cheap by any means, but it also didn't mean that Carol would be dipping into his savings too painfully. At least, that couldn't be covered by his work order for Arae.

"Well, I'll count my blessings while I can. I'll take all I got here, and if you got any cases of assorted Dust, I'll take one of those as well." The old man nodded and began ringing him up, weathered hands repeating practiced actions and completing the task quickly. "Hmm. Atlas Standard Industries springs, huh? You certainly know your stuff, kid."

"I've been told that." Not like he had a choice. If you wanted to succeed in business, knowledge was job number one. If you didn't think smart, you didn't act smart, and many businesses had gone under for less. It could be worse, though; He could have had inherited a Dust store. Carol felt for anyone who did, especially in the heart of the SDC's homeland.

"Alright, well, including the Dust, your total comes to..." The old man whistled lowly. "Four hundred and two Lien. Will that be cash or card?" It was mostly the Dust, as the current situation in Vale saw many shops having special visits paid to them by the so called 'Gentleman Thief' of Vale. It was a miracle that this shop had any in stock, but Carol supposed it had something to do with the fact that it was a weapons shop and even the most daring of thief wouldn't chance a potential date with a two-step goodbye. Also, the Menagerian steel's price wasn't anything to sneeze at.

"Card." Carol took out his wallet and swiped it, a small twinge of pain lancing through his mind as he did so. The work order would reimburse him and more, but it was still slightly agonizing to do so. "Is it too late to get a crate or something to hold it in?"

"Unfortunately, crates aren't complimentary." The older man joked. "We do sell Hardcases, though. It might be worth it to pick one up, as you work out of Beacon. Keep it seperate from the other students." He had a point.

"Alright, I'll take one then. Anything else you recommend?"

"Hmm. A set of brushes-" Oh, whoops. He'd forgotten about those. "-and maybe a set of focusing glasses. A pair of those will save your eyes a lot of strain in the long run. Take it from an old man like me, take care of your body before it's too late." Carol smiled, having visions of a certain friend of his.

"Heh, sure. I'll add those as well." The clerk rang up the new items, which brought the total up to four hundred and eighty-eight. Still painful, but these things were necessary. Carol swiped his card once more, packing the items into the hardcase he was provided. The extra padding would make sure that the Dust was doubly sure to be stable, and still retain all the other items. It even locked, too, so he could rest easy knowing his supplies would be safe if he left them alone.

"Alright, and here's your receipt..." Carol accepted the proffered slip of paper. "And hopefully we'll see you again soon."

"You and me both." More visits to the shop meant more orders, which meant more money. He did feel like he'd used up all his luck, though, and he was sure to have some other bullshit happening soon enough. "Well, take care. I gotta get back to Beacon."

"I'll try. You have a good evenin', now." Carol nodded, picking up the hardcase and walking out the door, the bell ringing as the door swung behind him. He looked both ways, then back again, before crossing the street to his truck, and loading it into the back. It was a slight pain to finagle it to rest against the seat and not poke out, but in the end he managed it. Wiping the sweat from his brow and cursing the hot Valean sun, he took one final look at the rear of the truck before hopping down off of the side.

Alright, now all I gotta do is get back to Beacon before some dumb bullshit happens. Carol made to climb into the driver's side of the 'Boar, only to have his attention caught by a throat being cleared. Turning to the noise, there was a group of three people standing nearby, two girls and a guy. The guy he recognized, he was the silver haired dude who sparred against Pyrrha before giving up. The other two, however, were new faces. A girl with emerald hair and sun-kissed skin with a top that seemed to be struggling to keep her breasts from flapping in the wind, and an almost demure looking girl who's eyes matched her mint green and black attire. He said almost because there was a mischievous look in her eyes that boded poorly for him. Regardless, guilt by association came into play, and Carol could imagine that this was the silver haired guy's team. "Yeah? Can I help you?"

"You wouldn't happen to be going to Beacon, would you?" The emerald one asked. He nodded in response. "Great! Would you mind giving us a lift back to there as well? Please?" The girl tilted her head slightly while bending forward in an incremental amount. Carol pointedly stared at her eyes, ignoring the obvious attempt to fluster him.

"Eh, sure. It ain't like I'm gonna be goin' outta my way or anythin'." Me and my big gods-damn mouth...