Author's Note: I climb out of the abyss to bring you this chapter. As usual busy, busy, busy with college. I'm on spring break right now and I'm currently cutting in on time between doing academic papers to write this. Welcome to doing this for a hobby.
-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-
Chapter 5: Contact
Asking a Mantle soldier to give up his gun was like asking a Mistralan poet to give up his quill, utterly preposterous and led to backlash. That backlash being grabbing the poor fool who asked Carbine for his gun so it could be inspected ended up getting pulled from his desk and slammed to the floor. Was it extreme? Yes, quite so. But there came a point when having your boot holding down one soldier while fighting off another two, you didn't really care anymore what happened. Weapon inspections, pah, he did that at least four times a day regularly, he knew his gun worked just fine. What would a Vale soldier know about Mantle firearms anyways? Now in hindsight, beating up a soldier who was on home soil was probably a dumb move, but it wasn't his job to think about those kind of decisions. What he was currently sat in would barely qualify as an office by military standards, just a bare desk across from two wooden seats. The ticking of the clock almost lulling to sleep with a hypnotic rhythm.
*Tick-Tock* *Tick-Tock* *Tick-Tock* *Ti-SLAM*
The sudden swing of the door made his ears perk up, not surprised though, a Mantle soldier is never surprised. However the *click-clack* of heeled shoes did make him raise an eyebrow. A rush of wind breezed past his face and the slight aroma of of blueberries. He kept his vision narrow like a soldier would but his eyes wavered slightly and caught a glimpse of ebony hair, long and completely impractical for military life and the pale white of a lab coat. Then he saw the woman step into view and pulled the chair on the other side of the desk, the scowl on her face probably would have made civilians crack, but after dealing with an abusive drill sergeant you get used to it. In her hand was a manilla envelope, her leaf green eyes peered as she cracked it open enough for her to see it while overlooking himself. She had sharp features, very pale skin but Carbine could tell she wasn't from Mantle, the people from the northern kingdom tended to be deathly pale like Carbine. She may have been from the northern end of the Vale or possibly the joint settlement of Argus Mantle and Mistral set up about a year or so ago.
"Jeremiah Carbine-" she opened her mouth after a few seconds.
"Carbine," the soldier replied, cutting her off, icy tone fitting someone of his origin.
"Carbine," she replied, a droll voice to match his, possibly only filled with more vibrance than the dry tone of the soldier across from her. If she was annoyed before she probably be annoyed later. "Ex-military from the kingdom of Mantle, son of-"
"No family history," he growled, "you can read, and I don't need to hear it repeated."
The woman sighed and ran her hand over her face in exasperation, "I am Doctor Verdant, I am the head medical professional and I am in charge of student evaluations at Beacon Academy," Doctor Verdant introduced putting his file down, the contents on display including pictures of himself and a few documents a bit too far out of reading range. "Do you know why you're here?"
"Because I kicked the ass of some of your soldiers," Carbine replied keeping his arms cross.
"And why did you do that?" She went on, in that tone of voice that sounded like she wasn't going to stop until he just spit it out.
"He tried to take my gun," Carbine motioned to the back corner where his rifle rested.
They never did manage to take it away from him.
"Now is that all?" the doctor pulled out a pair of glasses that graced her small nose and the ears covered by her black hair.
"If there is something you want to ask, spit it out," he put bluntly.
She pulled some of the files closer, "I told you I'm in charge of evaluating the state of the students which in include psychological evaluations. You are a soldier from Mantle in the Kingdom that won the War over your own. It wouldn't be crazy to harbor feelings of resentment for the soldiers of Vale or the other students from Vacuo or Vale."
Carbine's scowl widened, if he were to scowl any more it might break his jaw. That's what this was all about? He rolled his eyes, he couldn't be damned what she thought. "I can firmly tell you that I am in full control of my faculties, I don't hate the soldiers of Vale. You just don't touch my gun and everything will be fine."
The answer didn't seem to stick with Verdant who raised her eyebrow quizzically, "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Whether she believed him or not was a different question, all she did though was pull out a pen from her lab coat pocket and start writing notes on some of the documents within the folder. "Well if you are sure there is nothing influencing your decisions, then there is nothing I can do about it. However as your counselor at Beacon I am going to recommend that you avoid sudden outbursts like that again. Even though you passed the initiation, expulsion is still a punishment at this academy."
Carbine, not letting his thoughts be spoken aloud, stood up from his seat and made his way out the door after grabbing his rifle and swinging it on his shoulder. "Understood."
"If," the doctor said emphatically, "you ever have any problems while at Beacon, please feel free to discuss them with me."
His boots stopped in the middle of the doorway as he stared out past the open hallway letting natural sun in through the archways. "Yes, ma'am," he resumed walking into the midday sun.
-X-
Akihiro held up the large, formal uniform jacket in their completely different room. White walls with two beds and two desks with a closet on both sides. His metal cross rested on the wooden bedpost where the sheets were folded to perfection. However the more he looked at them, the more he began to wonder if he could fit in the bed. The dress shirt was sort of like his own, albeit not at all frayed at the ends or stained with flecks of dust like his was. He supposed he could just wear his current attire for fighting, no reason to ruin another. Although there were two more sets of them in the closets. Perhaps they were expecting the students to destroy them in a cafeteria brawl.
That wouldn't happen would it?
Student had an odd ring to it, school had never been something he'd ever had to do before. Reading? Writing? Basic arithmetic? Sure he could do that, but do it everyday? For who knows how many years before he becomes this 'huntsman'. If his Uncle could see him now, he even made a friend. Well, as much a friend as Carbine could be. Between his cold exterior, his frosty demeanor, and his itchy trigger finger it would probably be best not agitate him too much. Breaking the news to Carbine was not gonna be easy. However when the door opened he knew fate did not throw him a bone.
"You have got to be kidding me."
In fact it threw a frosty demeanored, cold exterior, trigger happy ex soldier from Mantle.
"If it makes you feel any better, I had no hand in this," Akihiro had to bite back a snicker as Carbine usually unmoving face twitched ever so slightly. He just stood there in the doorway, for minutes, if anything he was letting a draft in. "Well don't just stand there, make a decisions, out or in. I'm gonna get cold."
In a quick, completely unsurprising move, Carbine merely scowled and closed the door with him on the opposite side. Also he muttered something along the lines the likes of which Akihiro didn't even know were curses and swears. Sometimes having decent hearing wasn't always a good thing.
-X-
Ilios clicked his tongue as he strolled through the plainly colored hallway, the unnaturally yellow lighting acting as a road map for these corridors. The clicking went along with some merry tune stuck in his head, didn't know which one though, probably some jazzy tune that had just been invented recently. He was still a little miffed about not being roomed with Akihiro, honestly after having a total of an hour being stuck in the same confines as him, he would rather sleep with a wordy Mistralan poet hopped up on caffeine then be stuck with the soldier from Mantle. Carbine had a certain edge that was unnerving, much like the youth of Mantle, and although he hadn't personally seen or hear it, Ilios was willing to make a bet that he held traditional views on the faunus. During the drafting of the Vytal Accords there was a roadblock on faunus slavery lasting for several days, the rural areas had much of their economy steeped in the slave trade. However Mantle's entire economy was affected by slavery, they were still feeling the effects of the post-war recession.
There was many a time when Ilios, a free born faunus, had been subjected to racism while living in Mantle. Even a few traders tried to get him, lucky that he had his...friend to help him out. The paper going between his fingers was now getting frayed and torn, three numbers, three little numbers that were capable of causing more fear than they had any right to.
His room assignment.
Rather than going through the basic orientation like the majority of the one hundred students did, he decided to walk about and take in the entirety of the academy for himself. However why he saw some soldiers being carted off to an infirmary tent was beyond him. They probably tried to pull a prank and ended up getting hurt, at least that's what he would do.
"123, 125, 127, ah ha," he counted as went past doors, "129." He looked down to confirm with the slip of paper, he was correct. "New roomate, new life, here we go." He opened the door with his usual clicking.
It stopped when he saw the bare naked ass of a man with red hair and scales standing in the middle of the room. In fact he swung the door so fast ended up biting his tongue. He looked again at the paper to see if he was right, maybe he had mixed up, maybe somebody gave him the male restroom. He highly doubted that with a faunus like Finley here that he was going to be forced to live in a bathroom. Still though, he really didn't need to see bare ass, part of him was now preferring the disposition of Carbine all the more. Ilios' heart skipped a beat when he heard the click of the door handle when the knob twisted. He closed his eyes and kept his face away from the doorway. A pregnant silence ensued and Ilios felt a dribble of sweat slowly cascade his pale gray face.
"Well are you gonna stand like that all day?" A rather quippy voice asked behind him. It was only now that Ilios realised he had spread out his arms as if trying to keep the door frame from leaving the hallway.
"Just," he said with a shiver, "one thing."
"I am not naked," just from the tone of voice alone, you could visualize the eye roll.
Taking whatever word the stranger had after being buck nude on a first floor room with a wide window, the insect faunus slowly swiveled on his heel with winced eye in case he was going to get a first row seat to the banana expo. Luckily, he was wrong, a tattered cloak covered the man, but that was it. His exposed, scale littered legs proved that all he had on was the cloak.
"Do not. Click," he told himself, he did not need that mental image if he did. The insectoid warrior took a deep breath and did his best to look the red haired man in the eyes, same as his hair. A fiery red at that too, like the blaze of a campfire or the magma of a volcano. "Are you," he finally started, "roomed here?"
"Hmm?" The man sounded off, "oh yes, yes, yes. 129, at least that's what it said on that little slip of paper those soldiers gave me."
Dammit so this was his new roomate"Hmmm, soldier from the land that wrote the book on faunus slavery, or nudist faunus," Ilios weighed which would be worse out of the given. The issue came about when he couldn't really decide.
"You must be my new roomie," a bare arm stretched out from the cloak which revealed more of his body. Ilios had to breathe, just breathe, "the name's Oro. Pleasure to meet you…"
Reluctantly and making sure his head didn't look down lower, which was harder since he was much shorter than Oro, and shook his hand lightly, "Ilios Sand, I'm from Vacuo."
"Your last name is Sand and you're from Vacuo?" a quizzical eyebrow raised on Oro's face, "That's a little on the nose."
"At least I don't stand in a room fully nude," Ilios shot back.
"Oh you civilized types and your quirks," the lizard faunus shrugged off.
Civilized, this guy was calling Ilios civilized? Ilios was from Vacuo, the one kingdom regarded as a desert wasteland until you get the capital city and even then there's usually a riot on the weekends. He was mercenary who has done his own fair share of dodgy deeds, he had been to Mantle and been criticised for being a faunus. And this guy was calling him civilized.
What kind of whack job did he get for a roommate?
"Could you just put some clothes on dude?" Ilios asked pushing past him and entering the room.
"Fine, fine, fine," Oro sighed and closed the door.
Hearing the drop of the cloak caught Ilios' attention, and forced him to turn around to see Oro naked once again, this time for the front.
"Okay," he said with eyes closed once again, "I walked into that one."
"Well make up your mind," Oro responded, "on or off?"
"Just get dressed," he had half a mind to pull out his sword and swipe something or someone. Hearing the clank of armor Ilios felt safe to turn around and thankfully there were no surprises. An eclectic collection of metal armor Oro had, no piece seemed to match each either, and those that did were in differing condition. Scratches and scuffs on some sides and pristine with little dirt on others. No real difference in color as he looked at the lizard faunus. Red hair, red eyes, and red armor, kind of like a giant walking red pepper with how slim he was.
"If you're gonna stare at me then maybe I should have kept my clothes off," the shit eating grin on Oro's face almost made the other faunus punch him in said grin.
"Okay, ground rules," Ilios stated, "no being naked unless the end of the world."
"Sounds reasonable," Oro replied, "now ground rule number two. We have a secret knock to make sure it really us who are entering and not some foreign entities. And besides I've always wanted to make a secret code."
As his eyebrow twitched, Ilios began to think bunking with Carbine was looking better.
-X-
"So let me get this straight," Akihiro sat on bed opposite of Carbine who was busy inspecting his rifle, "you attacked a soldier, which then brought on three more soldiers, you then were forced into a meeting with a counselor? All because…"
"You don't touch my gun," said gun was currently being put back together as the final screw was put back in place, "you'd be wise to know that."
"You have issues you know that right," the faunus rolled his eyes, "they took a look at my weapon and handed it right back at me. No harm no foul."
Carbine looked to the corner at Akihiro's weapon, "Forgive me for saying this, but your weapon is a slab of metal. Not a Model 315 Mantle Rifle from the leading kingdom in technological innovation, be they used for domestic tasks or war."
"You'd honestly think they'd steal your rifle because it's from Mantle?" Akihiro asked.
"Oh they wouldn't steal it per se, they'd just have to inspect it in a private room far from where I am and say that there was a slight problem with it so they took it to their military base for 'repairs'," he added little air quotes after resting the rifle in the corner barrel up.
"You're paranoid, has anyone told you that?" a chuckle left Akihiro's lips.
"Rather have my eyes always open then always closed."
"Or, you could just respectfully tell the soldier to not take your weapon," the faunus offered.
"I did," Carbine's flat face replied, "I said, 'take my rifle and I will promptly beat you to a delirious pulp'."
It was hard to tell if Carbine was born with the inability to display humor or if he actually meant it. His tone, his eyes, his whole aura just exuded a droll and dry persona that made understanding any hidden meaning behind his words like a maze of mystery hung in enigmatic fog.
"Just," ignoring the whole situation, "try not to do that. I would hate it if my new friend got into trouble on the first day of classes tomorrow."
Yes, classes, that's what they should be worried about, "When's our first one?
"Oh, I want to say nine in the morning, nothing too crazy."
O-nine hundred hours, nowhere near as strict as the military academy in Mantle, he usually woke up at o-four hundred hours for drills.
"Do we know what the class is?" Carbine asked.
"No clue, they've been pretty tight lipped on the whole thing. Although Amid, Ilios, and myself were all betting that there would be some kind of grimm based studies since we're supposed to be hunters."
"Yes, that would make sense."
"You still think this is gonna work?"
"Hunter has always been an unofficial career, even before the War known beyond the walls of the Kingdom, we never had them in Mantle because villages outside the walls didn't exist. They either froze to death or were barred exodus from the kingdom so I have no experience with anyone claiming to be one of these hunters."
"My uncle used to tell me stories when he got home about hunters, sort of hating them since they never chose a side in the war, thought they betrayed their kingdom for not fighting."
"I can see that, those who refused to be drafted in Mantle were thrown in prison."
"That why you joined the military?"
Carbine's cold glare alone answered that question, "I had my reasons."
-X-
Headmaster Finley watched the night sky above the city of Vale from his high view of the Beacon Tower. The giant oil lantern behind him glowing green adding the unnatural glow around the room. His wrinkled hand laid atop the ornate wooden desk with papers loosely strung about, the mechanical groan of the elevator in the back of the room signalling an approach. Looking dead on in the window the two doors slowly opened with a figure leaving. His still keen sense of smell noticing the pungent smell of smoke from a cigarette.
"Are your lessons prepped?" Finley asked.
"Of course darling," a feminine voice replied with the sound of a deep exhale expelling more smoke into the air.
"Need I remind you that I do not appreciate you smoking in my office Miss Morgan," Finley turned around.
"That's Professor Morgan now," Morgan said with a chuckle, she took one last inhale from her long and slim cigarette holder held by her even longer and slimmer fingers. She was elegant, blonde and silky smooth hair, with rounded corners around her clean and unblemished face outside of the black beauty mark below her ruby red lips. Finely manicured nails that were as sharp as her words and tone. Smooth, long legs lead to a ruby red business skirt suit accentuating her heavenly figure. Haughty eyes the color of the ocean blue about as dangerous as the sailors claimed. Calm one moment and then furious with deadly appetite the next.
"You're little students will know all about Dust, are you worried?" She walked up and mocked him with her tone.
"I'm more worried that your smoking is going to set off an explosion in one of the new buildings his majesty paid for," Finley harshly commented, to which Professor Morgan scowled.
"I know good laboratory habits, I didn't get to where I am if I didn't," she huffed.
"That remains to be seen."
"You," she pressed her cigarette holder closer to him, "and the king both asked me to be here, you needed a Dust researcher who would be willing to leave their research for this petty experiment."
"I would hardly call the Hunter Project 'petty' professor. We need a defense against the grimm and standing armies are not going to be the way to do it. We send out an army of fifty and forty will come back. We are already beaten and battered from the War and we don't need to start hemorrhaging troops again. The people would be in the streets asking for a different solution."
"The people are fickle, during the War the King would make one comment and he would have a thousand supporters, but if he said the opposite they would do the same. He wasn't a king, more a sheep herder."
"I would ask you that you do not speak ill of his majesty while standing in the facility he dreamt to protect not only Vale but the rest of Remnant. If you would prefer I can order the troops take you back to the capital where you can continue your research Professor Morgan."
Her scowl persisted as she walked out of the room, muttering something under breath as her figure swayed back to the elevator. She wasn't the first pick Finley would have advised the king on taking, but after a few dropped out of the contention they didn't have much choice. An expert on Dust sure, but when the other advisors in on the Hunter Project gave backa report the words 'Massive Bitch' were written in bright red ink.
Or blood.
It was honestly a little hard to tell.
Tomorrow was the big day, the start of something new, something possibly awful or glorious. As Finley started out towards the massive expanse of ocean separating the school from the town of Vale. To the castle, to the homes with women and children in them, to craftsmen and laborers, to the doubters of his majesty's swan song to save Remnant.
To save it from...her.
"Wherever you are sire, I promise to carry your wishes, until the end of my days."
-X-
Waking up early was like any task for Carbine, done with precisions and mechanical repetition. The same time every morning, he rose the same way, but when he found he was in an unfamiliar room than that of the barracks from Mantle it threw him off. It took him a short while to remember where he was, regretfully so, the late summer sun peeking through the windows. The nightstand next to his bed was where he reached for his timepiece, 'o-six hundred it read. Without thinking he reached for the crimson curtain and flung it open.
"Aw dear gods, what is wrong with you?" The grizzly sounding voice from a mound of bed coverings growled.
"Oh right," Carbine replied with little empathy, "you're here."
"I live here now, as do you," Akihiro's head poked from underneath the covers, his two ears poking right above his hair. For perhaps the first time, Carbine saw him without a smile. It was almost refreshing. "What are you doing anyways? Classes are in three hours."
Carbine blinked blankly at him, "I can no longer sleep past o-six hundred anymore, it will take time to adjust my sleep schedule."
"Fine, just," the large mound of Akihiro turned over, "be quiet, you don't need to make noise while us normal folk are still trying to sleep."
"Understood," Carbine walked over to the corner and looked at the closet and scowled. Those dreaded uniforms were in them, and he was going to be forced to wear them. Among the multiple reasons for leaving the uniform society of Mantle was because he hated wearing those damned uniforms. So instead of dreading on the inevitable he grabbed his gun and began inspecting it. Again.
Soon the minutes turned into the few hours that needed to pass for Carbine to legally open the blinds or be turned into bear food. He was still met with grumbles.
"It better be a more reasonable time," Akihiro told him.
"It is 'o-eight hundred hours, it would do you good to get ready and get some food at the mess hall before…," Carbine paused to let it sink in, "class starts." Still felt wrong to say.
"Fine, I'll get up."
Carbine watched him try to move, and if the Vacuo translation for 'get up' was to flop out of bed unceremoniously and fall face first then Carbine truly had much to learn about the culture of kingdom to the west of Vale.
But that was for another time, "I guess I will see you in class then." He opened the door and shut it, only receiving some kind of muffled response from his roommate.
How he hated this uniform, it was too stiff on his shoulders. A burgundy color so dark it almost appeared black with goldish trimmings. It was like he was a one of those marchers in a parade band and he absolutely despised it. It was also itchy too and the necktie felt like it was trying to strangle him. He noticed a few other students but paid no attention to them, although he noticed their stares. Eventually found the location of the classroom after grabbing an apple from the mess hall, sparsely filled with more students.
Classroom 231 was empty by the time he arrived, a good half hour was between now and class. It was a lecture hall, like many back at the military academy back in Mantle, rows of seats elevated after the next. Supposedly if there was one hundred students it looked like this room would only fit fifty at the very most.
"Division of the students," he calculated, "interesting."
"I was thinking the same thing."
Carbine jumped and swung his fist toward the wall next to him as the sudden voice startled him and his reflexes kicked in. The thump of his fist hitting the wall reverberated back and the slight light blue glow of his aura kicked the other side of his arm was that accursed telepath.
"I thought I told you not to do that Mono," Carbine growled.
"Well, you're not my chief, so you can't order me around," she 'told' him, his eye twitched as she moved past him. "You're a little early aren't you?"
"I could say the same thing," he replied, "I like being early."
"That is one thing we have in common, no doubt Ilios and Akihiro will want to sit together. Amid said she wanted to know more about you so I imagine she will join us."
"You get unlucky and room with her?" She nodded in response, "Same, I got Akihiro, I don't know what happened to Ilios."
"I imagine he will tell us later, now move I want to find a good seat," she pushed Carbine away from the door frame into the classroom which made his eye twitch again.
The room was clean, as it had only been built recently, a massive chalkboard and a desk at the front accompanied by the aforementioned rows leading to the back. Mono, being one to stay out of the limelight, chose a seat in the middle smack dab in the middle of the whole room. A smart choice in Carbine's eyes, perhaps she could be sensible when she wasn't prying into his mind.
"I heard that," it took much concentration not to strangle her or use the knife hidden in his boot and stab her and make it look like a suicide.
He sat down next to her, not because he liked her or anything, but the idea he would have to talk to someone new was less pleasing than sitting next to a telepathic nosy little brat. Silence was what they sat in, although Carbine had a hunch that she would try to read his mind, depending on how much she could stomach it would probably be best she didn't traverse far. The minutes before class slowly started to drip, unfamiliar faces poured in. Akihiro was the first of which he did recognize and even then what little drivel he was talking about was lost on both Carbine and Mono. He sat in silence soon after next to Carbine saying something beneath his breath. Then Amid came in about five minutes before the hour.
"Carbine," Amid greeted with little pleasantry, completely disregarding Akihiro.
With one eye he looked to her with crossed arms, "Amid, I see you're here." Silence followed as the two stared at each other, scowl met by scowl. Mono kept her vision forward towards the board while Akihiro looked between the two. The four didn't even noticed Ilios being dragged in by a red haired faunus who had his burgundy dress shirt draped over his shoulders and white dress shirt.
Then the door at the front of the room slammed shut stopping all commotion.
"Alright maggots!" The voice boomed, louder than a train horn it felt. "I will be your history teacher for your tenure at Beacon Academy!"
Carbine's hand tensed, not even Amid sitting down beside Mono, or the stares that they all gave him as his hand clenched the table so hard his veins were showing and it looked like the table would crack.
He looked at his professor. Flat buzzed gray hair, face slightly tanned from being in the Vacuo campaign, a scar leaving one of his eyes a milky white in contrast to the deep brown the other one was. A dark green military jacket with a black name tag that Carbine couldn't see from his seating, but he already knew the name. His face was hard chiseled and you could almost grate cheese against or break Dust crystals on it. His strong arms and hands went to his back in a classic military stance.
"I am Professor Orwell, although some of you might know me as General Orwell, former second in command of the Combined Mantle Forces during the War."
-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-
Now we're getting into the actual school life, and with that we get to meet the faculty of Beacon. Right now we have three; Verdant, Morgan, and Orwell, with more to come. A bit of a more light hearted chapter, minus Carbine's disposition. Now there is one thing I'm sure you're thinking is missing: Teams. As of right now, teams are not going to be happening for two reasons. One, I am going to say that the educational uses of putting students into teams happens between now and the canon timeline. An observation of years of trying out and coming up with an alternative. There will be noticeable consequences because of it, trust me. Here's to not speaking for another four months. See ya later suckers.