A/N: I own nothing, at all. no real notes here, sorry its late, real life got in the way for a few days there. Enjoy.
Waking before dawn was normal for Steele, he was by far the earliest riser on the team. On an off day he usually liked to catch up on his sleep, so being woken at the ass-crack of dawn by the rest of the team wasn't on his list of expected events. It was worth it though, Yang had gotten them out to a small mom and pop diner in Vale that was open from 2200-0900, supposedly the best place for a greasy post party meal. Steele would admit that it was even better than the food at Beacon, it reminded him of shipboard food, but with actual flavor aside from the grease. Delicious salty bacon, rich eggs, and heavy toast, he was in culinary heaven for the duration of the meal.
The next stop was some 24hour dust store, the whole team needed to top up their supply and pick up ammo. It turns out that most of these places sold dust enhanced munitions for most standard styles and sizes, unfortunately there wasn't anything that fit his weapons that he could use to run trials for his custom rounds. He ended up buying a box intermediate battle rife caseless rounds so he could get a better look at and run some tests on how dust munitions worked, really he wanted a smaller round but the battle rifle was dirt cheap. It took some time to settle on exactly what type of dust he wanted to start with, he didn't have the financial assets to buy everything right out of the gate. A conversation with Wiess and the shop keep had him settle on picking up some fire dust, while it wasn't the easiest to refine, it had the highest percentage of high energy states and so he would get the highest yield for his effort.
They left Ruby behind to browse the weapons magazines with an agreement that they would meet up at lunch. Weiss had made an appointment for the early afternoon at a custom tailor for Steele, something about compensation courtesy of the SDC. A short stop at an athletics store for exercise attire left them with a few hours to just wander around. Steele noticed a hardware store and was struck with an idea, he wanted to give XR some nose art, for that he needed paint, probably a ton of it. The hardware store was a trip of its own, Steele started with spray cans and tape, then cans, rollers, brushes, and markers; he would admit he got a little carried away, thankfully it seemed that everywhere in Vale was able to ship to Beacon on short notice.
They met up with Ruby for lunch at some street side noodle shack that was manned by an aging man that Steele would have sworn he saw at the dust store and a few of the other food stalls. Steele had noticed a trend on Remnant, meals for Huntsmen and Huntresses were significantly larger than what he was used to. At first he had thought it was just him not being used to having enough food on hand anywhere they went with the ACEs, but he saw it everywhere he looked, the best example was the bowl of noodles that was nearly the size of his torso. It made sense, to support the extra strength and reflexes provided by Aura he would need extra calories, even with the near magical bullshit floating around energy had to come from somewhere.
Half an hour later Steele and Weiss stood outside of a -to Steele- disgustingly high-end store. The building had polished dark wood trim and doors with gold lettering on the windows that announced the store as: Maidensguard Clothiers, Cobblers, and Stylists. "look, its already paid for in full. They will take care of everything."
"I don't want your dirty money. You should have figured that out." Steele was on the edge of livid, he didn't have a problem with Weiss as a person, he had a problem with her connection to the SDC. He knew that the SDC used slave labour, but he had no way to prove it yet. The idea that Weiss was throwing that kind of money at him when she knew how he felt about large corporate entities in general, let alone one that was well known for being controversial. "you think you can just throw cash around like that, fix any problem with check?"
"I know you have a problem with the SDC. I am not my father; this isn't me trying to buy you off. I have significant issues with what he has done with the family name and I will not let him determine how the family is viewed for the rest of history. I can't do anything about how the company operates, not yet. Until then I'm going to make a difference where I can, consider this the first step in righting my father's wrongs."
Steele gave her a look, seeing her in a new light. That was the first time that she had openly stated that she was unhappy with how the SDC was being run by her father, until that point he didn't think she was complicit but he certainly didn't think that she was opposed to how the SDC operated. "Sins of the father and all that, eh. You aren't so bad, are you?" he sighed, deciding to give her the benefit of the doubt. "alright, thank you"
She didn't so much smile, as her face softened. "just go in there, it should take a few hours. Ill bring the rest of the team by to pick you up."
He turned away and pushed through the door, the interior was surprisingly quiet, stifled by all the fabric. There was a surprisingly small selection of clothes on the racks, for the most part it was rolls of fabric and stacks of leather that were taking up the floor space. There were three doors towards the back of the shop, no desks except for one large workstation on the wall to the right.
"ah, there you are Mr. Steele" behind him. Steele turned and came face to face with a man of medium height, brown hair, green eyes. He ushered Steele towards the right most door on the wall. Inside there was a small room covered in mirrors with enough room for him to stand in the middle and someone to walk around him. there was a woman who was obviously the mans twin, identical features but a softer face.
She indicated the middle of the room, pulling out a tape measure and a length of string from a tool belt. "down to your underwear Mr. Steele. We will start with your measurements, then footwear and formal dress as those take the longest to make."
"can I get a wrap for my arm? just a few meters will do." He wasn't uncomfortable with undressing, there wasn't any real privacy on a ship. But there was no way in hell that was going to show that particular mark to a total stranger if he didn't have to.
"unfortunately, we need the best measurements possible, I understand that you may have scars or disfigurations, we practice utmost discretion here and will refrain from discussing them where possible." He wasn't exactly happy with that, but he could deal. He took a breath to steady himself and calm the sudden burst of nervousness. He stepped out of his jumpsuit and removed his undershirt, forcing his arms to his side and tried to relax.
She measured everything…. Everything, every one of his muscles, the distance between every joint, even the length of each segment of his fingers and toes. The man from before came in with a pair of scissors and a comb while another woman came in with a selection of tops and fabrics. "Military background, stiff back, we want to work with that. Strong jaw, some facial scars. Uniform style, black, red trim, white gloves, belt, and holster. Red pauldron and sash, gold buttons. Black head dress, naval cap, soft brim, no emblem." They held up a few different tunics and pants before seeming to decide.
Next was the boots, for the formal pair they decided on a pre-shined black leather. built to be comfortable, eye grabbing, and loud. The daily wear boots were where things got interesting, two pairs of matte black boots that were built for comfort, endurance, and silence. "now Mr. Steele, you should understand that everything we make is meant to be able to be worn to a fight. From your footwear and gloves, to hats and watches. We believe that style and function not only are compatible but should stem from each other. The function determines the style, the limit of your personal input is due to this."
The next thing they brought out was a plate carrier and tactical vest all in one, black with a variety of pouches, some of which would definitely fit his magazines. They held it up to him with some scraps of fabric, some in camouflage patterns, others were solid color. The next thing they brought out was the most welcome thing he had seen all day, a solid few meters of fabric that they wrapped around his arm, making sure that he watched how they wrapped it so he could hide a knife in the pattern of the wrap.
As soon as that was done, they hurried him out into the main room and through the middle door where Steele found him self in what looked to be a hairdresser or barbers. Sure, enough he found himself with the cleanest shave of his life and the sharpest fade he had ever seen. Looking at a clock it had been nearly four hours since he walked in by the time his cut was done.
They walked him back to the previous room, still in his underwear. This time though the female twin was holding a set of clothes. They didn't let him dress himself, instead showing him the exact way to dress for maximum impact. Looking in the mirror, he felt… changed. He had never had a uniform or formal dress, just the jumpsuit and some spare tactical gear.
Black as night, deep red trim along the seams, hem , and collar with a hard leather pauldron over his left shoulder and a slash of red fabric that doubled as a bandoleer running from his underneath the pauldron to the holster at his right hip. The front panel ended on the far right with a row of golden buttons embossed with a pair of crossed axes. The white gloves and belt stood out and accented the outfit. He was nervous about the holster being white, his biggest fear is it would stain from the oils that he used to maintain his gear. The holster was thankfully made of non dyeing fabric, this worlds answer to ballistic fabrics. The holster was the perfect size for the 2020 with a strap to adjust it to the Smart Pistol and a sheath that would fit his Data knife, he wondered briefly where they got the measurements. And the boots… oh man the boots, liquid mirrors on his feet that made the most satisfying clack clack as he walked. A black cap with two buttoned side flaps and a brim rounded the outfit off.
Then the next outfit came, a casual tactical set. A black tac vest over a grey short sleeve with grey cargo pants, with his arm wrap and an overly long scarf that he recognized could be used as a face cover. They had a second green vest and a few pairs of matched pants, shirts, and scarfs; camo, brown, green, and black. The vest almost had enough clips, pouches, sheaths, and holsters to impress him, as it was there were enough for him to be happy with it. a pair of reinforced trigger gloves with some sort of Kevlar on the back and palm and a set of black metal caps on his knuckles. The boots on this outfit were something special, some real covert ops shit. A sheath in the right boot and a pair of exterior pouches for pistol mags, matte leather and the quietist soles he had ever had the pleasure of wearing, he could run at a full sprint without making a sound.
The last was definitely a covert ops set. Loose pants and hoodie with hidden reinforcements and concealed holsters. A second hood acted as a balaclava. It would let him blend in with a crowd, work silently, protect his identity, and still remain armed discreetly and ready for combat at a moments notice. "Well, that concludes our business for the day Mr. Steele. If you have any issues please return, all maintenance and adjustments are free of charge. Feel free to make use of the changing room and have a pleasant day."
Steele changed into the tactical outfit, the black vest and a pair of urban camo pants with a grey shirt and scarf. He hadn't loaded up on weapons to go into town, so he pulled on his semblance to bring him the 2020 and a data knife. Much to his surprise his semblance failed him, no weapons, no ammo, nothing that he tried to pull came to him. there must have been a limitation that was attached to what he was wearing, his gear hadn't been associated with his new outfits perhaps. In any case, he finally felt like he was settled in on Remnant. It felt good, he felt ready in a new way, one he couldn't quite figure out… he felt prepared.