Chapter 11: Impossible To Change
Six was almost disappointed about the lack of blood staining the concrete rooftop where he had faced Blake only mere minutes ago. The girl was nowhere to be seen, his bullet casing wasn't even there, nor his bullet. He could've sworn he saw her bleeding and cursed himself for not finishing her life there and then. He didn't even feel some sort of subtle content that he hadn't murdered yet another person, only a painful withdrawal from the soothing arms of cold-blooded murder – or 'survival' as he deemed it.
The Courier grumbled and slipped the 45. Pistol into his jacket, deciding it be best to consult his comrades concerning their upcoming contracting work for the night. They would have to leave soon if they wanted to be punctual and get some time to set up and further scout the route. That is, of course, if their employers would actually tell their guard escort the route they were taking. It would certainly make the job easier.
Six soon found himself stood in the centre of the dorm, simply staring ahead, out the window and into the void of night. He couldn't seem to remember what he had been doing before he found himself staring out the window, but soon dismissed any worry for the occasional memory blank that he seemed to get every now and then. He strolled over to where he had seated himself to dull his confusion around thirty minutes ago; scooping up the empty syringe that he had lazily left lying about on the floor.
Med-X
Six remained partly confused as to why he had felt so calm after injecting the chem into his body, but he simply shrugged it off and accepted it, grateful that it had been such a help to him in more than just the recent situation he found himself in previously.
The Courier fiddled about with the various metal plates on his coat before turning his mind to other things. He wondered what Joshua was doing and, more importantly, what Ulysses was getting himself into.
He swept his mind of any odd feelings about the girl he had shot, resting his mind and body on the closest bed he could find, though he still felt slightly frustrated.
"I had been the leader of a tribe named the Dead Horses, assisting them in any way I could; offering weapons training and helping defend them against the various factions that threatened them." Joshua explained as the headmaster took yet another sip from his trademark mug.
"So you have experience with assembling weaponry?" Ozpin asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I know my way about most weapons and I would take every free moment to inspect a weapon I do not know." Joshua replied, "The tradition where I grew up revolved around one weapon."
"Where you grew up?" Ozpin questioned, sipping from his mug again. Joshua simply shook his head in dismissal of the headmaster's question and continued along his own path of discussion.
"When my time with the Dead Horses was over, I joined the Courier on his trip to this place." He said, gesturing to the area about him with a single hand.
"He already knew about Remnant?" Ozpin asked, this time readjusting his glasses instead of taking another sip from his mug.
"Simply rumours," Joshua replied, "We couldn't be sure."
"And you decided to venture… however far you went, simply based on rumours?" Ozpin said, "Forgive me, but that doesn't sound like a very smart decision."
"The promise of safe haven is something people would give anything for where we come from." Joshua said, "Though I can't help but feel unwelcome here."
"You are welcome to stay if you please, there is nobody stopping you from doing so."
"I understand that you are allowing us to remain, although why you are so generous in your offer seems perplexed to me. It is not your acceptance I feel refuted against, it is my own acceptance." Joshua sighed, folding his arms.
"And why would that be?" Ozpin took another sip from his mug, still fully endorsed in the conversation.
"I have done many bad things in my life. It seemed so simple to find acceptance in God, I still don't feel that here though." Joshua said, now hanging his arms by his sides.
"What things would be so bad to lead you to feeling unaccepted in this society?"
"A conversation for another time, Ozpin." Joshua departed, leaving Ozpin to question himself about the Burned Man's past.
Ulysses stood in Beacon's courtyard, simply standing and watching one of the many lit windows as a group of girls bickered behind the glass window, seemingly panicking about something Ulysses couldn't pick out.
The Courier had once told him he had the eyes of an Eagle, and, though he wasn't inclined to agree with the Courier as it seemed like he was boasting and didn't really fit his personality, Ulysses knew what he was and wasn't limited to. He had watched the Courier every step of his journey through the cracked passageways of the Divide, spying his every movement.
He questioned what the group of girls were so agitated about, deciding that it was most likely the Courier's doing. Ulysses hadn't failed to notice that the Courier had been shaken up near the start of the initiation ceremony, though he didn't really expect it to involve anybody else.
Much like Joshua, Ulysses was having problems adjusting to the civilised life these people were living and his mind theorised that Six's unnerved attitude was probably due to the same issue. He didn't want to believe that though.
The Courier had shown the most confidence adapting to this new world, easily being the most energetic and forthcoming character of the three, and although he lacked the mind-bending words that Ulysses could conjure up at any given moment, the Courier definitely seemed the least bothered and more social of his comrades.
Ulysses tilted his head before shifting himself back to the dorm.
"Are you certain you're stable?"
"Listen, I shoot people every day. I felt a withdrawal, alright?"
Six stood speaking with Joshua Graham in their dorm, Six eventually bringing up the small 'incident' he had had earlier in the night.
"This will cause issues with the school. You are aware of this?"
"Of course I'm aware! We can figure this out, alright?"
"And if we can't?"
"Then I suppose I'll just leave then."
"…"
"…"
"Where is she now?"
"No fuckin' idea. She was gone when I came back to the rooftop."
"This will certainly cause a great deal of commotion with her teammates."
"Yeah"
"They were protective over each other, it seemed. You may become hunted, so it would be best to stay out of sight."
"Hey, it can't be that bad. I'm sure we can work something out with them."
"They don't understand our past, they don't understand us."
"And they don't need to."
A click sounded and Ulysses entered the room, silently striding over to the nearest bed and resting his anti-material rifle on it. Six handed Joshua's spare pistol back.
"We can make it work." He said before turning to address Ulysses, "You ready?"
"Almost."
"Alright, we should leave in a couple minutes. We'll wait outside by the transport." Six and Joshua slipped quietly out the dorm, soon entering the cover of night and assembling about the private transport the girl told Six she would arrange to meet them. Ulysses soon joined the two and they all embarked on a journey to Vale, each carrying their arsenal of weaponry.
Six commented on how weird it felt to be in the air, stating he had never flow before, an experience they each lacked equally. Against what he had expected, Six didn't seem to feel any sort of sickness on the flight to Vale, just an odd feeling in his gut.
The aircraft soon touched down in a secluded area around centre Vale, the pilot directing them towards the factory and informing them it would be a fifteen minute walk – of which they embarked on without complaint, already used to much longer journeys; especially the Courier.
Once they spied the factory, Six broke off to find a way to the rooftops, leaving Joshua Graham and Ulysses to find their way into the factory. An entrance was found easily enough – a small side door where two guards were stationed.
"Halt!" One of the guards commanded, "State your business!"
"Guard detail." Ulysses answered. The guard who spoke looked over to his friend, flinging his head in the Wastelanders' direction.
"Follow me," the second guard gestured for Joshua and Ulysses to follow as he stepped through the door, revealing a dormant factory interior that seemed to be scrubbed and polished to almighty hell, presenting the factory with the looks of a luxury office building. No workers were to be seen, though Ulysses and Joshua each managed to pick out the glimmer of metal chains on the floors by each production line just before the door swung closed.
The guard shouted, "Lights!" illuminating the room and revealing several more armed men, each bearing similar outfits to the guard whom the Wastelanders were currently following. One of the armed men started strolling casually towards them and dismissed the guard, giving him a solid pat on the back as he walked away.
Each of the men wore outfits that seemed to resemble some sort of riot-crowd control armour, outfitted with heavy padding and coloured a painful white with similarly coloured full-mask helmets hanging off their waists, each with a vertical rectangular visor that stood out as the only black piece of their outfits. They each carried a rifle and pistol, all of the weaponry looking more sleek and fancy than advanced.
"You're the guard escort?" The man questioned, looking the two over as if they were completely foreign entities (which they were).
"Correct." Joshua replied
"Well," the man shrugged his shoulders, "They told me to look for the odd ones." He began striding back to his position near an armoured vehicle positioned in front of a large steel door.
"Sergeant Tallis. Me and my squad will be providing additional support." He gestured to the four other men currently conversing outside of their audible range, though their conversation didn't seem to be light hearted or happy in the slightest, each man with a stern expression on their faces and their lips solidified in a straight line when they ceased speaking.
"Good to know." Joshua said, looking each of the men over from a distance and deciding they seemed as if they had seen their fair share of battle.
"Alright, convoy starts in twenty minutes. Oh, and, before you ask, we don't know the route. Mr Schnee was real stern with the route, so if you brought any sniper support you'd best hope they know their way around this damned city." A small smirk crossed the Sergeant's face as he turned to face his squad, chuckling slightly.
Six managed to find his way to the rooftops, eventually having to resort to scaling the most climbable building when he failed to find any ladders or stairwells leading to the rooftops. As he had previously discovered, the rooftops were all conjoined and seemed easy enough to manoeuvre about, only a small drop or low ledge to get around between each rooftop. Majority of the rooftops had a flat surface, only the odd one or two in Six's sight having slanted roofs, classifying them as an unsuitable sniping position, though they would still serve as viable positions if things got really bad.
The main problem with their setup was that he lacked any form of communication between himself and the convoy, which would prove to be a problem seeing as Six couldn't provide any spotting information. He felt confident enough that he would be able to drop any concerning targets before they became a threat to the convoy.
He checked his ammo clip and his reserves. 38 rounds in total.
He gripped the Gobi Campaign scout rifle firmly in his gloved hands and marched across the rooftops, setting himself up on a rooftop adjacent to what he presumed was the exit to the factory, a large steel door that connected to the road and seemed to be where delivery trucks would make their drop-offs.
The road shot forward in an almost worryingly straight line, the concrete bearing only a few visible imperfections, the odd crack in the concrete every now and again – surprisingly well maintained, miniature imperfections aside.
The Courier looked down his scope and frowned, seeing his aim sway back and forth slightly. A bipod would have made this so much easier. He let out a sigh and waited for the time to pass.