Ms Goodwitch,
I am pleased to accept your offer of a room during the inspections. Again, I regret that such procedures are deemed necessary by the Council: their judgements do not, I assure you, reflect mine. I am confident that an academy with the prestige and repute of Beacon will have little for me to criticize. However, I accept that due process must be carried out, and hope that you and your colleagues will understand this.
I intend to begin my investigation tomorrow. No special preparations on your part will be necessary.
Yours,
Simon Sharpe (Deputy Schools Inspector for Vale and the Associated Territories)
Ms Goodwitch,
It has come to my attention that the canteen does not have an explicit policy of providing a vegan option for every meal. While this is not an inconvenience for most of the students, the increasingly metropolitan nature of Vale means that we must keep in mind the dietary needs of herbivorous members of the growing Faunus community.
Other than this, I have no complaints thus far. I hope you do not take my single criticism as an indictment: it is rare for any school to limit itself to one minor failing.
Yours,
Simon Sharpe (Deputy Schools Inspector for Vale and the Associated Territories)
PS: While I would not consider it a failing per se, there is one other incident which I feel obligated to relate to you. During my interviews with the student body, I had a conversation with a young lady who attempted to assure me of your character and 'awesomeness' by telling me a story about how you supposedly tried to bring down a helicopter – albeit one 'full of bad guys' – in the middle of a densely populated urban centre. I understand that students naturally generate and propagate bizarre rumors about their favourite teachers; what disturbed me was the implication that she thought you would do such a thing, and that this was supposed to endear me to you. I concede that the girl was a first-year, and had been here barely a few weeks, so it is entirely reasonable that she has not yet internalised the protective doctrine of the Hunters and Huntresses. This is, of course, no fault of yours: nevertheless, I find it disturbing that anyone in Beacon, even the youngest and least experienced student, would consider it praiseworthy to risk massive property damage and endanger innocent lives.
Ms Goodwitch,
It has come to my attention that there is no official protocol for ensuring that new students have their Auras unlocked before joining Beacon. While I am sure that the fraction of students who reach Beacon without having undergone the process is negligible – and you would hardly fling them into any obviously dangerous situation before checking that they have basic defensive abilities – this still appears to be an oversight on the part of the administration. Merely being around trainee Hunters and Huntresses is dangerous for students lacking Aura protection, considering the frequency of informal sparring matches and the ubiquity of Dust on campus.
In other news, I conducted my interview with the Headmaster today. His responses to my queries were unusual, to say the least. He began by commenting on my eye colour, then silently staring at me until I continued the conversation. When I brought up my suggested modifications to the lunchtime menu, he replied that "I have made more mistakes than any man, woman and child on this planet, but I do not currently consider that menu to be one of them." He then turned to the window and gazed out of it, blatantly ignoring my further questions until I left his office of my own accord.
I wish to be perfectly frank regarding this matter. Is Professor Ozpin on any kind of medication? If so, are you sure he is still taking it? While I have every respect for his war record and decades of experience, his bizarre and unsettling behaviour is not appropriate for the Headmaster of any school, let alone one of Beacon's calibre.
Yours,
Simon Sharpe (Deputy Schools Inspector for Vale and the Associated Territories)
Ms Goodwitch,
It has come to my attention that several of your students may be suffering from severe mental health issues. While having lunch in the cafeteria, I overheard a certain young lady loudly suggest – in apparent sincerity, and with a not insignificant level of enthusiasm – that some problem be resolved by breaking a fellow student's legs.
Later that same day, I observed a group of Hunters talking: peculiarly, no sound was coming from their mouths. No matter how closely I listened, none of their conversation was audible. While not as immediately alarming as the blatant conspiracy to maim a fellow student, this behaviour may be, on some level, even more disturbing.
Yours,
Simon Sharpe (Deputy Schools Inspector for Vale and the Associated Territories)
Ms Goodwitch,
It has come to my attention that the team selection process for incoming first-years consists of them being launched into a forest, paired with the first person they make eye contact with, forced to do battle with horrifying monsters, and – finally – assigned groups based on what chess pieces they feel are most appropriate.
This is actually something that happens.
It actually happens.
This raises a number of questions. Who was responsible for designing this process? How could they have sat down with the intent to produce a way of allocating students, and decided that this would be the most effective and expedient method? How on earth did it last long enough to become a tradition? Surely there must have been at least one fatality by now: wouldn't the student's family have complained?
I mean, it doesn't even reliably achieve its intended aim. There is no contingency for what happens when only one of a twinned pair of relics is selected, or for when relics are lost or destroyed during the event. What exactly would have been wrong with picking names out of a hat?
I don't understand why you do this, or how you can get away with it. It doesn't make sense. It doesn't make sense and I don't understand and I can feel the hole where the understanding should be and it hurts.
Yours,
Simon Sharpe (Deputy Schools Inspector for Vale and the Associated Territories)
Ms Goodwitch,
It has come to my attention that many of the students attending Beacon are not people at all, and are actually just pitch-black three-dimensional silhouettes. While humanoid in nature, they do not appear to actually have faces, voices, or distinct personalities. I initially assumed that this was the result of some initiative to increase the diversity of the student body by suddenly replacing the majority of them with beings from another plane of reality. When I considered it further, however, I realised that they had always been like that, and I'd just somehow not considered it important earlier.
From this, I can conclude that I am either mad, at the centre of an elaborate plot to replace the Hunters and Huntresses of the world with perception-warping shadow beings loyal to Professor Ozpin, or – quite possibly – both.
This concludes my inspection. As I have a strong preference for neither being forcibly relocated to an insane asylum nor being torn apart by otherworldly shades to protect Beacon's secrets, I will relay to my superiors that I have no complaints about your prestigious establishment. After this, I intend to find a new profession, as I feel that I may well regain my sanity so long as I never have anything to do with Beacon ever again.
Yours,
Simon Sharpe (Deputy Schools Inspector for Vale and the Associated Territories (Retired))