Glynda II

Glynda placed the file on the Headmaster's desk.

"Ma'am," she said, "I must raise my concerns regarding Team STRQ."

The Headmaster raised an eyebrow as she put on her reading glasses to take a closer look at the student profiles.

"What concerns, Miss Goodwitch?"

"First and foremost," Glynda pushed her own glasses up, "For their mental well-being. I have already received reports that they are being heckled for being from the countryside. While students from the countryside are rare, I understand that they are not unheard of - however, putting all four in one team is unheard of. For God's sake, ma'am, the Branwens can't even write or read Common Vytal. Haven't any lecturers raised the issue?"

"I'll prepare materials for them," the Headmaster dismissed her concerns, "This isn't the first case this happened… what can they read? Hashi? Hellenic?"

"I'll bring it up with them," Glynda dodged the attempt to change the topic, before pressing on, "And to that end, why would you accept students from Argus? There are many more people in Vale that would rather take their place. You know that once they graduate, they are just going to return to Anima, right-?"

"That's none of your concern, Miss Goodwitch."

"Furthermore," she pushed harder, "They didn't even go to a preparatory academy or combat school. Yes, they did extremely well in their entrance exams, but anyone can do that with enough prep. Both of them do well in practical classes, but are severely falling behind in theory. They might not even make it past the year! And Summer Rose is an even worse case - at least the Branwens have gotten their CCCs, but Summer Rose has nothing to her name. How did she even get in?"

The Headmaster paused for a long moment, squinting at Summer Rose's profile, and Glynda hoped she had finally gotten through to her. However, said hopes were crushed when the Headmaster flipped the paper around and pointed at Summer's photo in the top left corner. Glynda took the paper and stared at Summer's photo for a moment, before looking back up at the Headmaster.

"What?"

"She has beautiful eyes, don't you think?"

Glynda furrowed her brows as she squinted at the tiny photo again. Summer Rose's eyes were… grey.

"What?"

"What?"

She resisted the urge to rub her temples in frustration. It was well-known in Beacon Academy that their Headmaster was an eccentric person, but this was really pushing it. Seriously… accepting random people from the middle of nowhere can't be a good practice.

"Well," the Headmaster leaned forwards, putting her hands together, "Since you are so terribly concerned, Miss Goodwitch-"

"I am the Student Council President ma'am, it's my responsibility to be concerned-"

"-then what do you suppose I should do? I have already accepted them into the school."

"Call it a mistake," she answered, "Give compensation, and unenroll them - or change them to another course."

"You would call their chances of being Huntsmen a mistake?"

"What else would you call it?" Glynda demanded, "Three of four are failing. And Xiaolong is only barely over the line."

"Even those who fail here can become Huntsmen," the Headmaster insisted, "Beacon Academy has not always existed-"

"With all due respect, Headmaster, Beacon Academy's most important responsibility isn't to teach students how to fight and survive, but how to serve. I will not deny that all members of Team STRQ are spectacular combatants - already they are at the top of the charts for their year - but that doesn't change the reality that they don't know how to be Huntsmen."

"..." the Headmaster released an explosive sigh, "Your concerns are heard, Miss Goodwitch. I'll bring it up with their lecturers."

"Ma'am," Glynda pleaded, "You can't just-"

"How about this, Glynda," she interjected, "Instead of bringing this up with me, go talk to them yourself. It is easy to look at numbers and achievements and decide whether someone is worthy."

"..."

"One year," the Headmaster leaned back, "You have one year to do your best to make them pass. Glynda, I know you well, when given a task I know you will strive to complete it to the best of ability. That is why, if Team STRQ still fails their end-of-years then I know you have given up, and I will follow your advice do unenroll them. How does that sound?"

Glynda clenched her teeh, "...Thank you, Headmaster."

"You may go."

As Glynda began descending down the elevator, she used the time to organise her thoughts. The Headmaster had given her a simple and clear-cut task; tutor Team STRQ until they were capable of safely passing the end-of-year exams. That would put a dampener on her free time, but it would be worth it if she could get them - clearly capable combatants - to clear the year.

Time management was paramount from now onwards. All four members were in their own clubs, if she recalled correctly. Glynda herself had her Student Council duties, which would only amplify when election period rolls in. Her and Sangrie's position were not threatened, for these elections were only to fill in the empty seats left by the fourth-years. But it still meant she had to prepare for the newcomers.

Glynda absentmindedly took off her glasses and began cleaning them, deep in thought.

Ah… she needed some wine.

Glynda walked into the workshop, and the once-peaceful atmosphere immediately became overrun with acrid smoke, boiling heat, and the incessant sound metal against metal.

"Eh," Sangrie's verbal tic returned, "I already miss air-conditioning. My make-up is gonna melt!"

She shared her sentiments, as Glynda absently wiped her forehead of sweat already gathering. Immediately spotting the Weaponsmithing Club's President and began making her way over to his station.

"Charlie!" she shouted over the raucous noise.

Charlie spun around, lifting his welding mask over his head. Pulling off his gloves, he threw them on his workbench before jogging to meet her halfway.

"Look who it is!" he grinned, "What can I do for ya?"

"Is Qrow Branwen in today?"

"The newbie?" Charlie nodded, pointing, "Oh yeah, just over there. Need him?"

Glynda glanced over to where he was pointing, and found Qrow hunched over a workbench, fussing over something. She nodded to Sangrie, who immediately began walking over to talk to him.

"Just wanted to ask some questions," Glynda said, "How is he doing in the club?"

"Not bad, actually. More enthusiastic than most newbies, and a quick learner as well," Charlie scratched his chin.

"No problems with him?"

"Well, actually a few things," he crossed his arms in thought, "First, it's quite hard to communicate, since his Common Vytal is passable at best. Can't read any of our schematics either. But the main thing is that he is really invested in his personal project."

"Is that a bad thing?" Glynda raised an eyebrow.

"Not usually," the Club President sighed, "But Qrow is really intent on making his first weapon as complicated as possible. While he does have some grasp of mechashift tech, it's not enough for what he is looking for, and can't teach him efficiently because of the language barrier. We can only help him so much, considering we have our own projects, so he kinda has to make do by trial and error."

Glynda frowned, "Your club budget is still in the green, yes?"

"Nah, haven't blown through it yet."

"Alright, thanks for your time."

"No probs, boss lady."

…Was Sangrie spreading her nickname around? Whatever

Glynda walked over to her Vice-President to find her observing Qrow from afar. The boy in question was struggling over a strange mechanism that looked like a cross between a sword and a spear. In fact, he seemed so immersed in his own world that he didn't even notice them observing him.

"...What is it?"

Sangrie jumped, "Eh? Ah-! Boss lady, sorry, was just… just looking."

"Looking at…?"

"His drafts are in Hashi," Sangrie pointed out the papers on Qrow's workbench, "So I understand them. But, I've seen such a… sophisticated idea before."

"Sorry, but I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Nah," Sangrie laughed, "You don't need a weapon after all, with that overpowered Semblance of yours. Basically, he's trying to create a scythe that could retract into a sword - then stuff an entire gun inside of it."

"Seems… difficult."

"You have no idea, boss lady," Sangrie stepped forward, "Hey, what are you doing?"

"Wha-" Qrow flinched, his head snapping around, "Oh, uh- just trying to make this work?"

Sangrie snatched up the schematics on the desk, "So, why a scythe? Never seen anyone try something like it. Very complicated. Won't a sword and gun do?"

Qrow shrugged, "I know someone who used a scythe. Saw them kill a Nuckelavee in a single swing, cut it right in half."

Both of them froze.

"...Eh? Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I am!" the boy nodded vigorously, "So I want to make something like that."

"Well," Sangrie muttered, "I'd probably want to too if I saw that happen."

Glynda kept her thoughts to herself, eyeing Qrow. Any Huntsman who could dispatch a Higher Order Grimm as described can only be in the top ranks of the Huntsman Association, and such an achievement would be broadcasted around the world. But to her knowledge, nothing of that sort happened, and there still hasn't been any confirmed Nuckelavee kills in the past decade that she knew of.

She'll have to check again. Because such a claim was hardly believable, even if it was more likely that an entire team of four dispatched one - they'd still have to be top professional hunters with a specialisation in hunting Higher Order Grimm.

"Anyway, what's your problem?" Sangrie asked.

"I'm pretty satisfied with the gun and shaft… but I still have to figure out why can't the blade extend."

"So," Sangrie consulted the plans again, "First, an extending blade. You have that sorted out, right?"

"...Yeah?"

"Nice, it's pretty simple stuff. Let me guess, the main issue is the bending part, then popping the actual edges out of the blades so that they fit together nicely."

"Uh, yeah."

"Show me."

Qrow fiddled with something at the hinge, where there was a complicated mechanism Glynda couldn't grasp heads or tails of. Suddenly, a whirring sound filled the air and the scythe's blade began extending, using smaller sections hidden in the larger sections like some sort of Atlesian doll. Once all the sections were out, they fitted snugly together to create a smooth edge.

But then, they extended again, the metal finishes popping forward to reveal a black material underneath. With the new extra space between the metal sections, the blade then curved forwards such that the bottom corners of each section would fit together to create a nice curve. But before that happened, something locked inside the blade and the mechanism began whirring even louder, and steam started to pour out of the weapon as an ear-piercing screech was heard around the room.

Qrow hastily clicked something - likely an emergency button - and the entire mechanism stopped.

Sangrie said something in Hashi which Glynda did not understand, and Qrow obediently began dismantling his weapon. After about half an hour of investigating each piece and comparing them to the plans, Sangrie seemingly spoke in-depth about the issue which Qrow seemed to understand.

"So what was it?" Glynda asked irritably.

"The pieces fitted too well, and the gears and bolts were also rigged too perfectly."

"...Isn't that a good thing?"

"A mechashift weapon has many moving parts, and a single one jamming can make the entire weapon fail," she explained, "There has to be some leeway or pieces inside will grind and catch against each other. Having looser sections also allow easier maintenance and more durability. It's no good having a sophisticated weapon when a grain of sand or some dirt or even some Grimm blood gets stuck inside and messes it all up. There's more problems with it, but this is the core issue."

"Do I really have to start all over again?" Qrow asked dejectedly, "Can't I just replace-"

"You can't put the moon back together, ever heard of that?" Sangrie said, "This is why you start with a prototype. No, you cannot do things by eye. You have to go back to the drawing board and start from scratch."

"Gods-damn it."

"Alright," Glynda sighed, "Now that we've wasted enough time-"

"Eh-?" Sangrie's eyes widened, "Oh… hehe, sorry."

"-We don't have enough time to discuss it here, actually," Glynda frowned, "Well Qrow, do you know what your teammates are doing?"

"Uh, I think sis is in the Grimm Research Club…" he scratched his head, "And Tai is helping Summer with some… thing- wait, what do you need us for? Are we in trouble?"

"Yes," she replied blandly, "What's Summer doing?"

"Uh, I think she's running for StuCo Secretary."

Glynda choked on her next words, "Wuh- what? Actually nevermind, that works. On Friday after your classes, come to the StuCo room understand?"

"Wait, aren't you the President?"

"Yep!" Sangrie grinned, "And I'm the VP - and oh man, the four of you are in such deep shit."

"Stop scaring him," Glynda pushed her to the exit before saying her goodbyes, "You might just fail the year is all, good luck with your weapon."