Victor had taken it upon himself to figure out something to do in the weekend, when he had some free time beside patrolling Beacon once every five hours. He had started researching the issues pertaining to Vale itself. Petty crimes, thievery, jaywalking(Okay, maybe not that), he was looking into it. That and various possible terrorist groups that could prove to be problematic to his stay in Vale and Beacon. One such targeted group was the White Fang.

The White Fang was a collection of Faunus, or people with animal traits, of various levels of moral dubiousness, ranging from your average activist wanting equality between them and mankind all the way to downright psychopathic murderers, if some of the Wanted posters he found online were to be believed. They'd recently become a little more aggressive in their tactics, too, what with the change of leadership at the highest echelons. Vale was also one of their more recently-'militarized' operations.

He looked over to his LMG, then murmured to himself, "That thing's gonna be a pain in the ass to heft around all day if I'm gonna go fighting these assholes, but..." and he lifted it off the floor, disassembled it and started to clean it. From the bolt to the barrel, he made sure the gun was spotless inside and out, considering he would have to use local ammunition, ammunition which he knew jack shit about.

Sighing, he started humming an old Russian song to himself. 'Gruppa Krovi', or 'Blood Type' in English. He sat there with his thoughts, cleaning the LMG's feed tray next with a bit of gun lube and a rag from his kit, wondering just how many more rounds the gun could take. He must've fired over a dozen belts through the PKM at this point, but he tried to maintain her properly, too. The old girl had saved his life one too many times for him not to.

The gun was pretty much the only constant in his life. Sighing, he started reassembling it as he thought of his friends, wondering just where the lot of'em were. Of course, he knew Paul was probably stuck in Hungary, considering the son-of-a-bitch in charge of the country sucked Russia's dick like an obedient little whore and would not dare send Hungarian troops as part of the UNRUS Task Force. His American friends were probably preppin' to go in to help the Republic secure its foothold, the Finn was stationed somewhere at the border of Greater Karelia, much of which the Finns had occupied to make sure no extremist groups formed in the Cold North, the Bulgarian was...

Well, he didn't know where that mad motherfucker was. He just knew that his fellow kleptomaniac(This was a joke, by the way) was probably out readying himself to tag along with the Ukrainians. As for the few Russians he knew, one was already dead, god rest her soul, while the other two were supposedly part of the unit that was covering his unit's six while they were hunting for that Chechen unit that stole the Gas and killed Vesna and her other comrades.

God, he missed talking with Ayesha and Lita, too, even if they were right behind his platoon of infantry. Nothing beyond friends, yet they'd proven to be the sanest pair of Russians to ever stroll Earth's green fields, seeing as they were Vesna's best friends. Then, there was the Chinese force that had also been to KFOR, with Samantha Lee and her boys and girls. He snorted, shaking his head. He swore to god, he had no idea why the Ruskies and Chinese sent people in for the KFOR peacekeeping op, but the troops they sent proved to be some of the nicest people.

A lot of prejudice he was taught in the Orphanages had shattered when they met in 2019, in Kosovo. Dislike for their north-western neighbor, the hatred of the average Russian and just the general Balkan idiocy. Standing to his feet and hefting his equipment for his trip out to Vale, the boy remembered the many nights spent camping together under the moonlight and the stars with his friends. They'd jump from small FOB to small FOB, taking care so that the Serbs and Russian agents in the area didn't try to start shit, they'd make campfires, laugh, chat and eat together.

He sighed deeply. All that was shattered when the KFOR project had ended and the Russians and Chinese were recalled home. 2019. One year. He'd been in the army for one year when he came there with his unit and would leave with more friends than he had before. He felt the top-right pocket on his pants and retrieved a smartphone, tapping onto the screen. The time was stuck to that which was before his death, 16:20, date February 28th 2023. His background was a picture of their first op in Kosovo, a specific moment wherein the CSTO, Chinese and NATO worked like a well-oiled machine. Stopping arms exports to various extremist Militias that still hid in Kosovo, waiting for a chance...

There were six unanswered messages from the gang's best Hungarian friend, Paul. He thumbed them and let the Face ID system scan him without the balaclava, revealing the messages themselves. The last three mattered most, because they came moments before he and his team got hit by the gas. 'Did you ever find Vesna, by the way?', 'Vic, you alright?' and ' I hear the fighting's rough in Ichkeria, man. See ya soon...'

He hummed. Hopefully not that soon, Paul, he thought as he slid his phone back into his pocket. He didn't want his other friends to fucking die, honestly. They had lives to lead beyond the Military. He had had nothing. It was why he had joined. And when he died, he had been left with pretty much nothing sans these few friends he kept in touch with. He walked out, stowing those thoughts and putting on his game face. Pulling out his scroll, he texted Ozpin.

'Headed into town. Searching for info on Fang activities.'

A quick two-note tune told him Oz had already replied. 'Understood, corporal. Take care.'

He departed, hefting his backpack and the rest of his equipment, making sure the armor vest was tightly set, his helmet was in place and balaclava was on before he got out of the house. Marching toward the landing pad, the young man was met with the sight of a woman clad in a strange outfit. Her fashion sense was eerily French, considering the beret, the corset over the brown sweater and the black pants and boots. She pulled down her sunglasses, looking at the young man as he marched forward, then smirked.

"Hey there, Soldier-Boy," She quipped with a smirk as she approached, "Didn't know the Military style was back."

"Afraid it ain't, ma'am," He replied curtly, but respectfully.

"Darn. Why the getup, then? Atlas soldiers decided to start wearing green camouflage in the non-winter areas of Remnant, finally?" She inquired as she joined him on the walk to the landing pad.

"Sorry to disappoint, but I ain't Atlas," He quipped, then tapped the flag on his shoulder, "And it's a long story. You can ask team RWBY about it."

"The Newbies?" The girl raised a brow, "How'd they know about you? And what flag-"

"They found me and brought me to the Headmaster, so they got privileged access to my tragic backstory," The man shot back, grinning behind the balaclava. The girl hummed, seemingly in thought for a moment, while Vic made sure hew as going to catch one of the birds heading into the city. He needed to learn Vale, not just Beacon, if he was gonna be doing his job well, so this wasn't just a terrorist hunt.

"Well, shucks," The girl sighed, "Guess me and my team ain't getting anything from the new guy, eh?"

"Afraid you're gonna have to learn about me yourselves. You can probably ask the kids if you want, though."

"Eh, I like learning about newcomers myself. I'm Coco, by the way. Coco Adel," The girl extended a hand and smirked, "Put'er there." And Vic shook the woman's gloved hand. She nodded to him while he seemed a little surprised by the name. He, however, soon figured it made sense, considering the attire. It'd be something a Coco Chanel expy would probably wear.

"Victor Toma. Call me Vic," He replied calmly. "As for the flag? Not a country you'd know, really."

"Huh. So, a foreigner," Coco tapped her chin, "You here for the Vytal Festival? This early?"

"Whatever that is? No, not really..." He shot back, which surprised the woman. She seemed to stare at him, dumbfound, before he explained, "I know what you're about to ask... 'How does he not know of the Vytal Festival?'" He jokingly spoke in a higher-pitched voice which garnered a short chuckle, before looking at Coco again, "I'm a bit more than your average foreigner there, Coco."

"Huh," She hummed, then grinned, putting her hand on her hip and tilting her head curiously to the right, "You're that kinda mystery, eh?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

"Cool. Guess we'll learn more as we go along," She quipped, then patted him on the shoulder, "See ya, Vic. Good luck with your trip, wherever in Vale it is you're goin'..." and strutted off. Vic hummed, staring at the woman as she walked away, then sighed and clambered aboard the Bullhead and held his LMG by his side. A few other civvies and Students were aboard, probably heading out for the weekend.

The take-off and the sight of Vale's vistas was still a breathtaking image for the young man. The massive megalopolis sprawled out across many miles, almost looking like it was the size of a goddamn state. He'd have one hell of a field day trying to eliminate any White Fang presence here, but by god, would he try to worm out these bastards before the situation got as bad as in Ichkeria.

Once the aircraft had touched down in one of the many local stations, the man descended and exited out onto the streets of Vale itself, weapons at the ready. Civilian life seemed to go on unabated, regardless of if the threat of those 'Creatures of Grimm' he'd read about were just beyond the perimeter defenses of the city or not. Calmly, the locals talked, laughed, cried and enjoyed life together. Teens and men and women his age, all lived easy lives here. Some had noticed the man, but simply chose to ignore him, either because of the guns, or because of something else.

Strolling through, the young man kept both his eyes and his ears peeled for any possible leads or hints toward the enemy's presence in Vale. That and for any of the bastards walking through Vale on foot, as well. Humming 'Gruppa Krovi' again, he continued his stroll through the city that so eerily resembled Bucharest, or any other European Capital, really. Well, no, Bucharest had a specific way of existence.

He sighed and squelched the thought. He was dead, no way to get home, no point reminiscing about it. It wasn't like he had much to go back to in the capital beside a shitty bed, a cold, lonely apartment and zero hope for the future beyond the fact his death would come quickly and without much fuss. It was almost annoying, to a degree, just how bad the situation in his life had gotten.

He paused as he heard a scream, a plea for help, from an alleyway. Turning toward it and booking it forward, the man drew his pistol. In the alley, he found what one would expect. Two men seemed to be messing with a young girl with animal traits. He raised his glock and aimed for the first man as he spoke to the girl he had pinned to the wall, "What's a cute little Faunus like you doing all alone out here? You animals really need to stay close to your masters..."

"P-Please...!" The girl begged, "Stop!"

The man moved his free hand down toward her shirt, grinning, while his buddy seemed a bit put off by him, but still didn't intervene. Vic hummed at the sight, then cleared his throat and aimed his pistol for the guy. He spoke, "Alright, perv. Leave the girl alone before you walk outta here with a fucking round in your kneecap. And your buddy's disgust at you two being apprehended by the police."

"The fuck?" The man turned toward him, "Since when do Vale cops look like you, asshole?"

"They don't. They also have more patience with retards like you asking them questions than I do. Leave the girl alone and walk away and maybe I won't take any more than a fucking kneecap..." Vic replied with a growl. The man ahead of him growled back, staring down the barrel of the weapon, then looked to his buddy, who was showing an unsurprising amount of concern over being held up by a motherfucker clad in combat kit with a gun already trained on them.

"Teal, let's just go..." His friend pleaded, "Bitch isn't worth the trouble..."

The aggressor growled again, then sighed and pushed the girl toward the Romanian. He gently grabbed her by the hand and brought her behind him. He looked to her and said, "You're safe..." then turned to the men that had started walking away. He hummed, aimed and fired, the pistol shot ringing through the alleyway. Bone, skin and blood painted the ground ahead red. The girl gasped.

"ARGH!" The man that had taken the bullet screamed as he collapsed to the floor, grabbing onto his leg. He looked back at Victor and the girl and barked, "WHAT THE FUCK!?"

"I told you I would take your fucking knee, you retard..." The Romanian replied, holstering his pistol, "The hobble you're gonna have after is just a nice reminder not to mess with girls in alleyways like that. I think it'll do ya better once we also report you. Y'know, jailtime for a cripple ain't particularly nice. But if I catch you pulling this kinda shit again? Heh, six feet under's where you're going..."

The man stared, terrified, as the young man took his glasses and balaclava off, revealing an eerily calm, smug smile. He holstered his pistol and waved, then led the girl out of the place after covering his face again. The aggressor and his buddy scrambled to get out of here, the former hobbling on one good leg. They stopped as they reached the main boulevard and Vic turned toward the girl, stating, "I'd suggest you head home through populated areas. Safer than the alleys, clearly..."

She nodded, "T-Thank you..."

"No problem..." He replied, then continued his march. Or, well, he would've, had he not gone two steps before slamming right into Blake. Both of them stopped, with Blake turning to Vic, while he stared at her and said, "Miss Belladonna..." before he blinked. She rubbed her shoulder, then greeted the man with a nod. In her right hand lay a book and, on her back, lay what looked to be a really unbalanced sword.

"Hey, Victor," She replied, then looked over to the Faunus girl behind him, "Oh, hey, Silva. You alright?"

"Hey, Blake," The girl waved, "Yeah, I'm... Fine. Your friend here saved me from a pair of pervs..."

Blake looked to Victor again, then hummed and smiled, "Good samaritan, eh?"

"More like having a disdain deep down for asshats who'd take advantage of people," He replied calmly, keeping his hands in his pockets. Blake chuckled, then nodded. The trio separated, with Blake following Vic while Silva went the other way. She lifted her book and started casually reading as they walked, seemingly still paying enough attention to the road not to trip, fall or hit anyone.

He hummed as they walked, before asking, "The entire team with you, or...?"

"No, just Yang. She stopped in front of a Dust store to see what she can do for ammo, though," Blake replied. Vic examined the book she was reading and noted that it seemed to be a fairly straightforward smut story. He leaned over and read a couple of passages, which surprised Blake. The girl hid the book and said, "A little rude to invade a girl's personal space, ain't it?"

"Pardon me, missus 'I read smut in the middle of town'..." Vic murmured with a grin, garnering a blush out of the girl. She stowed the book in a bag, then shot a semi-serious glare at him, but he ignored it. Looking around, he saw a few more Huntsmen patrolling, then asked as he saw their guns, "I take it Dust is like gunpowder to you people? Or is it a be-all end-all mineral?"

"Gunpowder?" Blake seemed confused, "Also... The latter."

"Ah... Wait, you don't know what Gunpowder is!?" He staggered. She shrugged, to which the man sighed deeply and murmured to himself, "Thank the lord I memorized the chemical composition, else I'd be fucked for ammo..." before turning back to Blake and stating, "So, you rely on it for everything. What do you do when it fully runs out, or is no longer usable?"

"Well, it hasn't happened in the millennia we've been on the planet," She shrugged, "And we keep discovering more and more new veins as we go."

He sighed, "Fair enough. One day that's gonna stop unless you venture out beyond the walls and start exterminating masses of Grimm for it."

"Well, we'll have hopefully found a way to actually do that by the time we run out in our own mines," Blake hummed, then stated, "Though you do make a good point. Now that I think about it, we are a little over-reliant on it. It's the reason the Schnee Dust Company's so rich," before motioning to an SDC store, bearing the snowflake atop it, the same store where miss Blondie Xiao-Long seemed to be browsing. Blake finished, "They have a monopoly on Dust mining, refining and sale."

Vic snorted, "Sounds like Disney with media..."

Blake raised a brow, to which Vic waved it off and said, "Reference to my world. I'll tell you all the good parts about it later, maybe... Provided you all learn to fucking behave, or at least don't press me too much for answers..." and he watched as Yang strolled out, a grin on her face. She was clad in a golden tank top and tan denim shorts. Pausing as she noticed the two, she walked up to them proudly, holding a bag full of Dust in one hand.

"Yo, Vic! Didn't know you were out tourin' Vale today!" She spoke jovially, "And heya, Blake. Where'd you find him?"

"Came out of an alleyway. Helped an acquaintance of mine from the book shop out with a pair of racist pervs, apparently," Blake replied with a smile.

Yang snorted, "Saving fair maidens in need already, Vic? Damn, man, you move fast..." and that got a short chuckle out of the Romanian as well. She crossed her arms to her chest and said, "We were just gonna walk around Vale for a bit. Care to tag along with us, or are ya busy with something?" before flashing him another grin, "Cuz we figured a big man such as yourself could give us fair gals some safety from pervs and morons, y'know?" and winking at him.

"I was actually looking for info on the White Fang," The man stated rather bluntly, somewhat thankful his balaclava obscured his features, his cheeks red. Blake turned toward him suddenly. He paused, however, once he saw something atop her head twitch. His eyes scanned the girl's bow, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. He then looked back down at Blake, staring her square in her amber eyes, before requesting, "Something happened, Blake?"

"N-No..." She shook her head, then looked away, "Just surprised you'd want to find out about the White Fang..."

"I'm not too fond of terror groups, especially if they turned from simple activism to outright violence," Vic replied as they walked, gauging Blake's reaction to what he had said. He hummed, noting that she seemed to maintain an impassivity regarding the matter, while Yang was smiling. He spoke, "I respect what they wanted to do, but they lost any semblance of justification when they decided to start shooting people over the fact they weren't being accepted. You'd think the smart ones, if they haven't left already, would realize that'd just ostracize them further by proving the point."

"That girl I rescued from a pair of retards, though? She was peaceful. Didn't deserve any kind of harm," He added, surprising Blake, "She was just a citizen living her life when two moron racists accosted her with some prejudice and probably a shitty fetish or two in the backs of their minds. The Fang, meanwhile? I read they resorted to property damage and actually injuring people, some times even killing them."

"Bit hypocritical of a soldier to be angry about someone killing people..." Blake murmured.

"Not really. I don't have to like it, but it's my job to shoot someone if they are aggressive to me, the people I'm defending or anyone I know," He replied with a hint of a drop in his mood and voice, "That's called being an infantryman. What the Fang does is just terrorism. Sure, they haven't reached the level of bombing people yet, but I'm not sure how far away from that they are."

"They're pretty far..." Blake noted, "Considering most they've done is vandalize a store that didn't want to serve Faunus." And she saw Yang look at her, curious. Blake sighed, then said with a somewhat more hopeful, if still defensive demeanor, "I mean, that's my personal thoughts. You can make a case for them being misguided, not terrorists... Not quite yet, anyway."

"Hm," Vic nodded, making a mental note to ask why Blake was defending terrorists, before stating, "Anyways, not the point. I'm also learning about the world and learning Vale by searching for info."

"We can help ya with learning Vale!" Yang grinned, then walked up to him and grabbed him by the wrist. "C'mon! We know the best spots! And if ya want info, I know a guy in Vale's entertainment district!"

Blake chuckled at the sight, then saw Vic looking to her for help. She shrugged, then smiled and motioned for him to follow. Exasperated, the boy did as asked, walking with the duo of girls from team RWBY, wondering just how in the hell he'd wound up in this mess of a situation. Sure, the girls were cute, but he... His heart was set on someone else, after all.

Someone he would never see again...

Yang turned to him and smiled brightly, though, almost as if she was trying to get through to him. The smile felt familiar to Vic, warming, friendly. Certainly, it wasn't Vesna's smile, but Yang was trying for some godforsaken reason. The young man sighed, then let himself be carried around by the duet, even while carrying his equipment. The MG was getting a little heavy, though...