Desiree held her weapon out to me.
"Here! What do you think?" I took it by its grip.
"What is it?" I asked, minimally perplexed at its shape. It appeared to be a thin unbladed sword with an extra mechanism in the guard.
"It's an estoc. It can turn into a machine pistol." She pressed a button in the pommel of the sword and the whole thing began folding and contorting into something else. Just a few seconds turned the narrow sword into a stout pistol with a bare bones stock plus a long "bayonet."
I ran through the controls of the subgun and was proud in Desiree for having crafted such a simplistically effective weapon. She didn't even ask anyone for help, from what I saw. Unlike me, I made a pretty big mistake and forged my first lancehead too hard and thus brittle. It cracked the day after because I tried to take liberties with the smithing process instead of following the instructions given to me.
"My trainer is the fencing trainer."
I hummed to myself as I thought. Perhaps some lance techniques could be carried over to a thrusting sword? However, I purged those thoughts as being wasteful of time on both her and either one of the lancearm teachers' accounts.
"So what do you think?" She eagerly questioned. I chuckled at her enthusiasm, and began looking deeper into the little nuances in her weapon without dismantling it. Things were well fitted and the tip of the estoc was marvelously pointed. In fact, I nearly stabbed myself by accident just feeling it. I could have, but aura saved me the literal pain.
There was a problem that I had yet to find though. It was miniscule, but present nonetheless.
"What's its name?" I asked. Desiree had the appropriacy of being sheepish.
"Well... I hadn't got there quite yet." Exasperated, I reminded her.
"Weapons are due in a week, Dez." Upon her nodding sullenly, I offered her help. "Do you want me to help you?"
"Can you just give me a few suggestions?"
And so I did.
-XXXXX-
The school year's ending very soon.
The upperclassmen in my section of weapons training are nice, by the way. They're definitely unique personalities.
The senior is the niece of Ms. Astra. Celeste Astra had raven black hair and bright blue eyes and was the strong quiet type. She was undoubtedly the best of all four of Mr. Sonnati's students and even gave him a run for his money.
Her lance was much like mine, though the barrel pointed the same way as the lancehead. For the few times I sparred with her, she kicked my ass. Even the other two girls who were well above my level struggled to get hits in, let alone win.
Like despite the couple of months I've been training, she makes it seem like I just started. I mean, I did kinda just start, but... I digress.
Humbling experiences, let me tell you. Remnant seems to have a way of emasculating people.
I'm not giving up though. Far from it.
Mr. Sonnati lets Celeste take over class sometimes. According to him, even students can teach better than teachers, to which I agree. She gave me and the other two, Sabrina Waters and Gwendolyne Sang great tips.
Unfortunately, she would be graduating soon.
As in tomorrow.
The day had just about ended when she saw me in the hallway and gave me the suggestion to get some armor since apparently it "would fit my style."
I went with Dez to an armorer. She was told by someone else a long while ago to try some light armor. Or so she told me. I think she wanted armor and just used me going as an excuse to get it too.
The armorers Celeste recommended to me were in a studio-sized building. There, they had full plated armor suits on display as primary examples and other types of armors, such as plate carriers and cloth padding, as storeroom examples. I was interested in the plate pieces. I didn't want a full suit of armor mostly because it would make throwing Thunderstruck exponentially more difficult. Armoring majority of my legs was certainly something I would do; doubly so because I was thinking about incorporating kicks into my closer range combat.
I talked to a guy behind a counter while Dez looked for something small.
The store owner, a middle-aged faunus man, took my measurements. He then asked me what pieces I would want. I pondered over it for awhile. What armor could I get away with? What armor would offer maximum protection and would not get in the way?
I decided on getting a torsopiece - one with plating on my side to dissuade stabs around the front plate. My left arm would get a rerebrace and a vambrace and a plating for my glove. My right arm just got a rerebrace. My thighs would get modern-styled leather cuisses with pouches for ammo. Greaves completed my set of armor on my shins and kneecaps.
"Will that be all?" questioned the man, as if to ask me one last time if I wanted a full set. I nodded and he asked another one. "Any specific design details you would like?"
I looked at his loose sketch of my body with the armor pieces. It was artistic and detailed. I hummed in thought.
"Can you make it the same gray as my hair? With a black outline?" The man nodded back and brought out some sort of pen-shaped instrument.
"If you want that, let me scan your hair color." I hesitated a step, but leaned forward. A soft pressure was exerted on my head and a low beep sounded. "Okay... Will that be all? Engravings? Inscriptions? Nothing else?"
It was then that Dez dropped an armor panel onto the counter gently. I turned to her and received a bit of inspiration.
"Actually, make the detailing the same color as her hair," I said. Desiree glanced at me and her red eyes blinked. No doubt I confused her. "I'm getting the colors for my armor." She cocked her hip to one side and her head to the other.
"So the only red you're gonna wear is going to be on that armor?" She rhetorically asked. "No. We need to find some different clothes so that you look better." I sighed, but resigned myself to her whim. Which was likely going to be a shopping spree. Which I would likely have to pay for.
"Alright, fine. Just let him scan your hair color or whatever." I motioned to the shopkeep, color instrument-thing at the ready. Dez leaned forward and the shopkeep scanned. I completed my transaction and he informed me that it would be about a week for my armor to be finished.
Desiree went over her armor. She would be taking the practical type, a few layers of kevlar above a metal plate to increase stab resistance.
Thankfully, the shop owner let her know that if a bullet makes it through both the kevlar and plate, the fragmentation would be worse because of the plate. He guessed - correctly - that Desiree's fighting style revolved mostly around ranged combat. He suggested just the plate carrier plus the kevlar layers with a ceramic plate insert.
"Try not to get too close to what- or whoever it is you're fighting. Those ceramics will shatter like actual glass."
And so, Desiree and I bought armor. I got the more melee-specialised kind and Desiree got the bullet resistant plate carrier plus plates.
"Now, about those matching colors..."
-XXXXX-
I think I've understated exactly how much a junior huntsman's monthly allowance is.
It was enough for a month, but not enough for everything. Most of our parents' "tuition" was our allotment. So when Dad got a scroll call from me asking if he happened to have a couple hundred lien laying around, he was definitely cynical.
"Why, may I ask, Junior?" he asked in a dissuading manner. It was almost as if he didn't want Dez - I mean me - from spending about 200 lien.
I looked to Dez. She pointed at herself and shook her head. 'I'm not asking!' she mouthed. I sighed.
"Well we've been pretty good so far with our budget, but we ordered armor and since it's the end of the month..." I trailed off. Dad bit the bait perfectly.
"You need to pay for the armor." I glared at Dez and she smiled innocently. "Okay. Check your bank card in about 5 minutes."
"Thanks, Dad," I gratified. Before we could exchange farewells, he asked me something.
"You two are out in like, a week and half right? Because Cin's back in two." Dad reminded me of how far behind I was in preparation for packing.
And how far behind I was in preparation for more than just that.
If you couldn't tell, I haven't made any attempts in setting up a web of intrigue among Salem's and Cinders allies. Training to be a hunstman kinda took precedence and a lot of my time.
I silently decided that I would make contact with somebody, anybody, soon.
"Gainsboro?" the sound of my first name made me remember that I was on the phone.
"Oh, uhh... Yeah. After this weekend, we leave on the next Monday," I stuttered out.
"Okay. I'll have your mother pick you guys up by then." He lowered his voice to make it more sincere, "Stay safe. See you two later."
I felt the anxiety of lack of planning pool up in my stomach. Chills went up and down my spine when I thought about how my actions - or lack thereof - could lead to the loss of lives.
It was after about the third chill that I noticed Desiree looking at me almost poignantly. When I did notice her staring, she turned away and grabbed the clothes.
What was that for?
It was on the empty bus ride to Signal that I asked her something to break the imaginary ice wall that grew when Dad and I hung up.
"Sooo," I began, Desiree turning her head to me. "Why didn't you want to ask Dad yourself?" I was genuinely curious.
"Alright, so. You already know that Dad thinks I buy expensive clothes," she said, fidgeting with her hands as if she was trying to help me imagine what she was talking about. "If I asked him for 200 lien, what do you think he would say?"
"200 lien to buy a sweater?" we both said in a slow unison.
"Yeah, exactly." She concluded with: "Do you think he would give his daughter, who spent nearly as much on a single sweater than he does on food a month, that much lien?" She elaborated. "No. Compared to his practical son who basically never wanted anything other than becoming a huntsman? Do you see my point?" Despite me wanting to take the compliment, I made a joke about it.
"Hold on, 'practical' and 'wanting to become a huntsman' do not fit in the same sentence. Dez laughed a little but was still expecting my answer. "But yeah, I guess I see him giving me the lien instead of you," I said, and she smiled. "Buuuuut!" I drawled, turning her argument around. "It was your idea to buy clothes in the first place!" Dez rolled her eyes, still smiling and being a good sport about my remark.
"Oh, whatever." She gave me half a minute before she concluded with, "Now that I think about it... He'd probably lend either of us any amount if he knew we were going to buy armor."
That is probably true.
-XXXXX-
The last day of school came fast since every other day was free of work.
Mr. Wheaton let the remaining students - that being the freshmen, sophomores, and juniors - know that Signal's dorms will remain open throughout the summer. He informed us that if we plan on staying, a few teachers will come around every two weeks to inspect the rooms.
Dez and I were not the audience of that announcement.
Because Mom was in the parking lot.
And she was very excited to see us again. Hugs and all that.
We loaded up our baggage when I remembered that I needed to pick up my armor. Mom humored me and we visited the armorer.
While there, I ran into Mr. Taiyang.
And guess who was with him!
Ruby! Ruby was with him.
"Oh hey sir! What are you doing here?" I asked.
"Oh, Mr. Argent! I was just getting back a piece of armor that I wasn't careful with from my friend." He answered jovially. Then, he brought the much shorter Ruby from behind him in front of him. "Rubes, this is the young man that your sister always talked about. He and his twin sister." Ruby was much more timid than I expected. Like, I knew she had trouble talking to people, but she was quiet.
"This is the guy that she punched in the stomach?" Ruby asked in a low whisper to her dad.
"I'm right here ya know," I deadpanned.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" she cowered. I and her dad laughed but then said I that it was fine. She looked uncomfortable but I distinctly remembered that she liked weapons like me.
Good thing I brought Thunderstruck.
"Hey, I heard from Yang that you like weapons. Is that right?" I looked at Taiyang and he nodded cautiously. "Wanna see mine?" Without missing a beat, she said,
"Yes!" I brought it out in its lance form so as to not concern the shopowner who was watching the whole thing. It stood about as tall as her. "Can I..?" I shook my head.
"You can touch it, but you can't hold it. It's probably too heavy." She pouted, but was distracted by and admired the work all the way up and down, specifically the small etching I put on the boltface. Good thing I kept it unloaded.
"Manus Celer Deus? Is that its name?" I shook my head again.
"No, it's name is Thunderstruck." She made a sound that I can only describe as pure awe. However, she looked at me with a blush and tersely said,
"My uncle's is cooler." Taiyang chided her, but I understood on the inside. She does idolise Qrow anyways. "Sorry." I laughed at her apology.
"Don't apologize just yet. Do it if your uncle's is not as cool." With that short riposte, I made Taiyang laugh and had reminded myself that I "don't" know Qrow.
"Okay, well, I'll see you later Mr. Argent!" Taiyang said, grabbing a pauldron. He waved to me and Ruby did the same.
"See you in a few months, sir!" I farewelled. I picked up my armor, in a large, wheeled, wooden and decorated chest, and thanked the blacksmith.
"You'll show us the armor when we get home, right?" Mom looked at me in the rearview mirror.
"Yeah."
-XXXXX-
I looked down into my luggage. All of the extra space in it had been taken up by the clothes Dez bought for me. That light gray hoodie was to be replaced with a darker gray one that had maroon thrown in on the cuffs, waistband, hood edges, and zipper. The only other change would be my shoes, which are now steel toed maroon boots with black soles.
Desiree replaced her black skinny jeans with gray ones to match my armor.
Speaking of armor... I'm very satisfied. It's a comfortable fit and looked about as much as I envisioned it. Not surprising, since I told the guy how I wanted it to look.
"Looks good," Desiree said, hand cupping her chin. "Turn around?" she ordered me. Humming, she walked up to me from her vanity table. Her dainty hands shifted the armor into a more snug position. "I think..." she began contemplatively, "that we should put our insignias on both the front and back." We had been reviewing this for the past few minutes in our room while we waited for Dad to get home from work.
"I'd rather just have it on the front where the breast pocket would be. Like the patch on Signal's uniform shirt," I offered. Desiree wanted it full sized on the front and back. "I don't really have any intention of turning my back to my fight- I mean my opponent," I corrected. "I could do small on the front and full size on the back?" Desiree hummed again.
"We could both do that." We hadn't drawn up our insignias yet because they weren't required until the end of the first semester of sophomore year. I had been mulling it over since I designed Thunderstruck, but relegated it to do later. We did have free time now, so maybe we should do it over the summer? "I'm fine with that."
The door alarm to our apartment beeped, followed by our dad mentioning his arrival. Dez put on her red and dark gray digital camo plate carrier, minus the actual armor.
We surprised Dad, who was sitting at the dining room table with Mom. He said nearly the exact thing Mom did when he saw us.
"There you guys are!" He stood up quickly and wrapped both of us in a tight hug. "Wow, you guys are so tall now!" I was now Dad's height, with Dez at his chin. Stepping back, he appraised the armor. "So, this is what you needed an extra 200 lien for..." He rapped his knuckles against my armor and a low thud was produced. "Looks good. Welcome back, you two."
"We're back, Dad," we both said.
Our evening swiftly approached. We lost track of time talking about all of the things that we had done and all of the stress we had gone through. We showed them our weapons and agreed to head out to a firing range to demonstrate; I had no idea both of my parents were gun nuts. I guess I really shouldn't be concerned since they had been surrounded by them at some point in their lives, Mom because of her dad, and Dad because of all the armed guards that have been stationed at the refineries.
-XXXXX-
"I'm home!" Cin yelled. "Hello?"
I walked out into the opposite end of the hallway clad in my armor and held my arms out. As soon as she turned away from the door to lock it, her eyes grew and lit up.
"Oh my gods! Junior!" she ran up to me and wrapped me in the hug I had been offering. "You look so cool!"
"Welcome home, Cin," I said in an equable manner. "Dad's obviously at work and Mom's getting groceries." The eldest asked the next best question.
"Where's Dez? Did she go with Mom?" To which Dez responded from behind her.
"I'm right here, Cin. Welcome home." She didn't even let Cin turn around before she joined the embrace.
"Okay, now that I know that you two are home, you can get my bags." Dez and I shared a groan as Cinna slipped her car keys into one of Dez's plate carrier's pockets. "Love you guys!" she said before she had unlocked, opened, and pushed us out the door.
We were faster than we anticipated. We grabbed her four packed bags in one go with no small amount of assistance from our auras.
Seeing her younger siblings carry a bag she needed two people to carry in one hand each absolutely flabbergasted Cinna. She clenched both of our biceps when we were done and said something along the lines of 'So strong! How much can you guys lift?' I simply told her that she'd be surprised and we carried on the day by letting her boss us around as she asked us personal questions.
We told her that we were going to the firing range so that Dez and I could show them what we could do. It was an familiar feeling, being told that we were doing good by our parents and older sister.
The day came when Dad drove us all to a private outdoor firing range he said his guards went to often when not on-call. It was unmistakably property of the SDC because of the bigass snowflake that adorned the side of the range manager's office.
The range was very quite spacious. Since Dad reserved it, there were few other people and a whole lot of targets and ammunition. There was even a reloading bench with customizable tooling nearby.
Dez and I took turns using each other's weapons. Her machine pistol reminded me of the autopistol from XCOM 2 the Templars used, with the estoc blade protruding so far forward that it seemed more like a sword than a bayonet, for good reason.
I mean, it literally is a sword.
It was well made and had results typical of a modern target pistol.
Thunderstruck was fun to shoot. It always was, but something about a titanic muzzle flash coupled with a report you'd hear from a high caliber sniper rifle just filled me with glee. A few shots without aura made my shoulder sore, but the way everyone flinched was worth it.
While I reloaded the cartridges I fired, Mom, Dad, and Cinna tried out Dez's machine pistol. She disassembled the weapon to remove the blade to prevent any random injuries.
Then, when everyone finished firing the tiny gun, I laid Thunderstruck on the table. Mom and Dez were the only ones who wanted to fire it.
Eventually, they wanted me to throw it as far as I could as a spear. I obliged and loaded a wind-fire dust ammo mixture.
We all stepped out onto the range so as to not get hit by the backblast.
My family stood to the side and I stood squarely. My breathing was even and calm. All sound was drowned out by my heart's rhythmic beating. I counted them out as I raised my hand over and behind my head.
'1-2' the first beat came. Only the middle of my vision became clear; the rest became static.
'1-2' the second sounded. I recentered the balance on Thunderstruck by activating the mid-haft attractor. It didn't move.
'1-2' the third thumped. I narrowed my eyes on the paper target, seeing but not noticing the static from the tunnel vision fading. I shifted my weight back ever so slightly. I cocked my hand as far back as possible.
'1... 2' the fourth finally followed. My hand and hip snapped forward so fast and I barely even thought about pulling the trigger on Thunderstruck. All conditions were met.
My trance ended and all the sound came back in the form of a snap and boom. My initial throw didn't quite break the sound barrier, but the reinforcement from the firing sent it way over. I got hit with the tail end of the backblast of the gunshot, but it wasn't nearly enough to even make me flinch. I had gotten used to that already.
I tried to follow Thunderstruck without aura, but could only see a glint in the air. By the time my family turned to see the lance, the now-vaporized target disappeared in a plume of sand and dirt. Everyone appeared to be utterly stupefied. Including me.
Only Mr. Sonnati and Gwendolyne had done that better! And Gwen's lance was less than a fourth of the weight of Thunderstruck!
Desiree gave the impression of being impressed. It seemed that she had been expecting this. Which is weird, because I had not.
I broke out of my own astonishment and began pulling my pride and joy to me with aura. I had been just barely pulled because of how deep the weapon was buried, but held my ground. Thunderstruck flew back into my hand with a dusty exterior and a rolled edge on the aerodynamic lancehead blade, but not much else.
Something was wrong.
That shouldn't have completely vaporised the target. That's unusual.
Cin, who had been recording this to show to her co-workers, was the first one to say something.
"Wow..." The same was said by Mom and Dad, and Desiree clapped me on my back plate.
"Good job, Gray."