Georges eyes slowly eased open as a beam of light struck him right in the face.
"Aw drat. Is it mornin' already Laura?" mumbled Bush, his hand instinctively searching for his wife. When he didn't feel her there, is eyes opened fully and remembered exactly where he was.
Sitting upright in his bed, George looked around his still barren dorm room. Gandhi was an early riser, and though his bed had clearly been slept in it was obvious it had been abandoned since the early hours of the morning. Socrates was still snoring away peacefully, but his bed was on the complete other side of the room. He barely even owned anything, despite the money Ozpin had given to them nearly a month ago.
The fact that he was still sleeping in the same toga they had arrived in was telling.
And the last bed in their room was empty. As it had been since Bush attacked its occupant.
Though the fact that the Nazi wasn't within striking distance of him was pleasant, any comfort he got from that was completely pointless with the knowledge that he could be doing basically anything and Bush would have no clue about it. He only ever saw him during combat training and that was... awkward. He heard that Glynda was teaching him to speak low-Valean. Apparently, he was speaking High Atlesian, though it all sounded English to Bush.
Sighing, Bush swung his legs out of his bed and slowly stood up. His age didn't make such physical exercise very pleasant, and Glynda's training even less so. Even the air force didn't put a man through the paces like she did.
His creaking bones aside, Bush wasn't going to let such downers ruin his perfectly good day. After all, today was the first day of school.
Bush stepped out into the Beacon docks, stomach not nearly fully enough from the spartan breakfast he managed to scrounge up from the cafeteria.
At his side rested two revolvers, two thicker and bulkier versions of his Pappi had taught him to use. He wasn't a crack shot, but after the countless hours of time down at the shooting range, Bush could confidently say he wasn't defenceless.
Though, as the massive transport ship holding his fellow classmates cut through the clouds, he could only hope it had been enough.
"Ah, I see you've also come to meet our compatriots?" came a voice from behind him.
"Oh, it's you." Bush turned to see the smiling face of Gandhi, munching on a single fruit like he did every morning."
"Indeed. It's all rather exciting is it not? I haven't been in a school since my days as a lawyer, so I am quite intrigued with the idea."
"Despite the fact that you haven't come to a single training session since you had your Aura unlocked?" Bush asked with a roll of his eyes.
If Gandhi had noticed, he certainly didn't show it, contentedly munching on his fruit.
It had been a bit strange for the first few days, being around dead men and all, but once he saw Glynda throw a rock with a riding crop it all seemed easier to absorb.
Dead men, turning your soul into a force-field, giant monsters and alternate dimensions?
Bush hadn't been president for eight years without learning to accept some crazy things.
"Don't you worry about me," Gandhi responded, "I can look after myself. Taken more beatings than anyone I know and I turned out just fine!"
Bush couldn't help but smile at the man's enthusiasm, though the knot in his stomach didn't unravel like he had hoped it would.
The ship came closer and no further conversation extended between the two of them. It was always like that though. No one really talked all too often in their team. He preferred to wander the city, Gandhi wandered into the wilderness, Socrates waxed philosophy with Ozpin and no one wanted to know what Hitler was doing.
Though, as he saw the teeming mass of teenagers with their faces pressed up against the glass of the view ports, he couldn't help but wonder if avoiding each other was going to work quite as well.
With a loud clunk the ship settled into the wide berth of the docks, pouring students out into the courtyard. The duo backed away to from the front of them as Glynda and some of the other staff took charge of the students and began directing them towards the auditorium on the far side of the school grounds.
More than a few kids stepped out looking completely awestruck, while others seemed uncertain and confused by the intense hustle and bustle of arriving at the school.
"Do ya' think we should give a hand to the little ki-" Bush started, before a loud explosion sounded across the courtyard.
"Aw crud, what in the world?" shouted Bush even as Gandhi ran ahead of him towards the source of the explosion.
The duo came across a lady with snow-white hair stalking off and away from a short girl sitting in a crater. Bush saw her frustration and embarrassment on her otherwise unhurt body, and stepped forwards to offer a hand, unwittingly stepping in front of a scraggly blonde boy trying to do the same.
"Hey there, little lady. Need a hand?" He asked, stretching his hand towards her.
"O-oh... thanks!" She said, though her eyes never left his waist. More specifically the weapons hanging off his sides.
"Uh... are you alright?" Asked Bush, already uncomfortable with the woman's line of sight.
She seemed to snap out of a daze, face turning bright red as she looked into his eyes. "Oh geez, I'm so sorry for the damages, sir! I know it's only my first day, but please don't let this reflect poorly on me in your coming classes, I'll fix it my-"
"Whoa, whoa, hold your horses! I'm not a teacher, at least not yet!" said Bush, his rough calloused hands coming to rest on her shoulders.
The physical contact made her completely lock up, even as she smiled with relief. "Oh, you're not? Thank the brothers. I was afraid I was going to get expelled already! And my sister wasn't even here to help if I was!"
George had to laugh at the little spit-fire. She sure had more energy than the rest of the coots he was spending his time with.
"Well then, I think you're doing a pretty good at it on your own so far. Just try not to explode again, huh?"
The girl drew her red hood up over her eyes and groaned in horror at the first impressions she was already making.
"Come on now, no need for that. What's your name?"
The hood stayed on her face, though she stopped groaning. "Ruby. Ruby Rose."
"And I'm George W. Bush. Call me George though, it'd be weird otherwise."
"Okidokes! You got it George! Now... do you have any idea how to get to the auditorium from here? If I'm lucky, I can find Yang and give her a smack in the head for ditching her poor sister!"
The two wandered off, chatting amicably as George heard her fawn over her own weapon for nearly the entire walk there.
"So what's your weapon called?" She asked.
In response, Bush tore the two pistols free from their holsters and spun them.
"I call em' Walker and Jeb... After the two people who would always look after me."
"Whoa... they sound cool, I'd love to meet them one day!" she hummed, before losing her mind over a fire sword being swung in the distance.
"At least one person in this school has some life in them." Bush thought.
Jaune sighed as he watched the older man wander off with the cute girl he had been planning on helping.
"Aw... and she seemed so nice too!" Jaune pouted, knowing that the odds of him finding someone who seemed as lost as him was nearly impossible now that she was gone.
Maybe he could just tag along behi-
A loud swoosh through the air behind him startled him out of his thoughts and caused him to yelp as a golden blade swung past him, narrowly missing him as he leapt out of the way.
"Jeez! What are you trying to do, kill someone?" Jaune whimpered as he turned to face his would be attacker. Instead, he came face to face with an older gentlemen in brown cargo pants and an equally pocket-coated shirt. He looked impressed with the fact that Jaune had somehow managed to not get split straight down the middle.
His black hair was slicked to one side, and his small moustache perfectly cropped above his lip. It went perfectly with his snazzy black tie, but Jaune's eyes were inevitably drawn down towards the weapon that had almost split him in half.
Buried into the ground was the tip of a large golden wing, which connected to a golden eagle with another wing on its other side, forming a kind of battle axe. Right below the head of the eagle was a circle emblazoned with an X, detailed with lines like a pinwheel. Connected below that was a long black pole, held firmly in his slightly wrinkled hands.
The man, however, said nothing, instead just staring right into Jaune's soul with his azure eyes.
"Uh... do I know you?" Jaune asked, still shaking at the man's powerful gaze.
"Nien, my son." Came his answer as he tore his blade from the ground and hefted it onto his shoulder. "But an Aryan such as yourself? You surely will in time."
He wrapped his arm around Jaune's shoulders, and the blonde soon felt himself being guided in the same direction as the girl from earlier.
"W-what... What's an Aryan?"
The man laughed.
"The future, my son."
A/N: That's right. I'm back you hooligans. Think this story was dead? Impossible.