Keeping Ruby's temperament even was paramount, and Oobleck knew this, but as he went about his day to the letter, he was also busy thinking. Truthfully, he was always thinking, perhaps a bit too much. His mind worked over problems and solutions, grasping at the large picture and breaking it down into smaller parts. When it came to important matters, he was as sharp as a tack. However, when it came to the smaller, less important things in his life, he often lost track of time.
He mulled over his current plight, twiddling his spoon in his stew.
It wasn't the best meal he had ever eaten, but it was far from the worst. No, that meal came courtesy of a mission that had kept him busy in his youth. He was just a school boy himself at the time, and none of his team could cook. He could recall Port's laugh over the matter, jovially prattling on about nonsense as he instructed them on how to properly hunt Grimm for capture, instead of to kill. It was the first real try he had been given at studying Grimm in the wild.
He had kept his old notebook, those first few scribbles across the page cultivating him into the man he was today.
He was an accomplished huntsman, no doubt, but he felt himself a coward when he stood in the shadows of his peers. He didn't have nearly the accomplishments under his belt that they had, and he wasn't fond of missions for the sake of extermination either. He fought Grimm when he had to, without hesitation, but to think himself on equal footing with his coworkers would have been an insult to the people he called friends.
Bitterly, he considered that it some ways, it was even an insults to the students in his class room.
He had put in his time and effort, sure, but he rarely put down his life. He valued it too much, and clung to his ponderings and study of Grimm as his true crowning achievement. One, that if he were honest, he would continue to cling onto until his very last breath. Yet, he knew the truth. His degrees were not as impressive as he liked to spout, and although his expertise allowed him to be perfect for some missions, he refused to take others on principle.
It just proved how much a coward he could be.
"I doubt glaring daggers into your meal will force it to taste any better." Professor Port chuckled, sitting down to his own lunch, something that he had prepared himself. "So, what is it you're thinking about today? Have you finally figured out the best way to upgrade your weapon?"
"Afraid not." The green haired man said. "I've got other matters on my mind, none of them having to do with any upcoming missions."
"Hrmm." It was with this that the pudgy older man reached for a packet of pepper, seasoning the piece of prepared steak in front of him. "Well, that's odd, very odd in fact, when it comes to you."
"Trust me, I know." Oobleck lifted another spoonful to his lips. He wasn't very hungry, but he had been trained to eat at least a little something no matter what. There were time he had recalled going without. He cleared his throat. He respected Port's opinion greatly on many subjects, and decided that his current musings would prove difficult without at least a bit of clarity. "Peter, tell me something. When a particularly kindred huntress crosses your path, what do you do?"
"Ah, well let's see. A kindred huntress, you say…" He stroked the white mustache on his upper lip thoughtfully. "Well now, I suppose that depends, now doesn't it?"
"Surely you have a tale or two to tell about such times."
"Every hunter my age has an exploit or two. Grandiose ones at that, several of which that should likely never be spoken of." He said seriously. "However, what you must remember, is that most exploits are certainly only that. Huntresses aren't keen to settle down, and when they do, well, let's just say they're looking for a man with a much more stable career. One that guarantees that they'll be coming home."
The younger man deflated openly at the statement. "I thought so."
"Has such a woman crossed your path?"
"A little more than that." Oobleck replied honestly. "More than the passing fancy one might come across in the pubs, anyway. Theorize however, if you would, that this huntress is obviously interested in something a little bit more substantial. Also presume she is much younger than the usual conquest I might come across, and that past affiliations also complicate the matter."
Peter Port seemed to think on this, taking the conversation to heart. His fingers drummed heavily on the table for a few moments, finally he took a breath. "Well then, you mean to imply that this huntress is a former student of yours?"
"Yes." Bartholomew nodded. "Strictly that."
"I regret to tell you that such an outcome would likely be inevitable." The man said earnestly. "There aren't many schools dedicated to slaying Grimm. Those that do cover the subject are also far better off schooling their youths differently. This is why we work so closely with the other kingdoms in the first place." At this he paused, cutting off a sliver of his meal and tasting it before seasoning it with even more black pepper. "That is to say, a student intending to be a huntress, and only a huntress, would only consider coming to Beacon Academy."
"I didn't think of it that way." the younger man sighed.
"There is nothing to think of." Peter said earnestly. "She's a fully licensed huntress is she not?"
"Yes, she is that."
"Then she is no longer your concern." Then, Peter's voice lowered to something a little distance, perhaps even sad. "Barty, listen, our profession is a cold one with very little to offer. It's a thankless, lonely reality. We choose to live this life because it suits us, but sometimes that alone is not enough. If this young woman is a huntress as you say, she probably knows that all too well. If you two care deeply for each other, it would be a tragedy to deny yourselves the luxury of happiness. Such a thing is a gift, and it comes along too rarely these days."
"You're right about that." Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, he looked down at the remains of his meal. He couldn't manage another bite even if he tried. The faculty lounge wasn't where he wanted to be in this moment, far from it, in fact. "I should probably return to her side very soon. She's waiting for me."
"Right, right…go on then." Port chuckled again, waving him off. "Mustn't keep a lady waiting."
He returned to her dwellings, afraid of what he might find after leaving her alone all day long to tend to his work. A breath he didn't know he was holding escaped his lips as he found her looking up at the television screen, watching a documentary on Grimm, stuffing a few bits of popcorn into her mouth lazily. She waved at him, taking a swig of some carbonated beverage before scooching over on the bed. Surrounding her were several empty boxes of cookies, what looked to be a bakery cake, and several empty bottles of soda.
"Sugar is no replacement for Aura." Ruby said to him, seeing his confused appearance. "Trust me, I've tried."
"I wouldn't believe so." Absently, he reminded himself that Ruby thrived on confections, never to willingly go without them for long. It was long since rumored she carried a cookie tin much like her uncle carried a flask. It had never been proven, but he felt as if the image in front of him implied it. "Allow me to give you some of mine, then." He said, as he began pouring his aura into her, watching the young woman melt in contentment under the influence of an aura as warm as his own.
Her eyes glazed over as she watched the television, several long moments of silence blanketing the room. She had managed not to lose herself today, but she had to admit, she was craving aura like a fiend, and he was willingly providing it. There was no greater way to earn her attention as she cuddled into him. "You know, these shows really aren't very accurate." She said.
The observation causing him to smirk as he glanced at the logo in the bottom corner of the screen.
"The media chooses to show Grimm in such a way so that it doesn't frighten viewers." He said, looking at the baby nevermore flapping its wings on the screen. He kicked off his shoes and took off his tie, reclining back to regard the program. "Funnily enough, you only see the garden and forest variety Grimm on shows such as this. A nevermore roosting in a barn would never grow to the size of one constantly migrating. One farmstead simply doesn't have enough malcontent to attract larger Grimm."
"If they were so harmless, we'd keep them in zoos." Ruby lamented offhandedly. "I'm just waiting for that nevermore to bite that guy's finger. With the way he keeps poking at it, it's only a matter of time. I bet you they cut that part out, though."
"Well, it wouldn't be the first person to showcase the idiocy of provoking a Grimm on screen." He said jovially. He watched the program for a few moments more. "There is a sense of twisted glee watching these sorts of shows. As a scholar, I weep at this poorly handled information, as a consumer of the media itself, I'm baffled. Not even a novice would make such obvious mistakes. I sometimes wonder if the Grimm on these shows aren't raised by hand."
"Raised by hand or not, you poke anything the way he is, you're going to lose that appendage." Ruby said dryly. "That's probably why this stuff is so popular with actual hunters. The cynicism of it all, coupled with the fact that no one could possibly be this stupid...no one…"
Bartholomew laughed at that. "I suppose you could be right."
She was in no condition to walk freely around the streets of Vale right now, but the idea of dating implied doing more than simply sharing the sexual aspect of a relationship. He weighed his options, trying to think of what would be best. He was still, to this day, a disaster in the kitchen. Cooking for her was out of the question. There were several eateries he knew of that delivered to Beacon, so long as those that ordered paid a hefty delivery charge for the trouble. He knew his wallet was thin though, having just purchased several expensive items for study only a week prior. While he doubted she was at all picky, he had no desire to pull a meal ready to eat out of the cupboard.
"Yang came by today."
The words were enough to shoot his thoughts out of his mind entirely.
"She did?" He asked, wondering if he should fear for his life. Yang Xiao Long was not a woman to trifle with once someone had earned her ire. "I hope the visit went well."
"It went okay." Ruby said then. "It was tense, and Yang was uncomfortable. Oh, I should probably warn you, she knows, by the way…"
"I suspected as much." He replied earnestly, his voice dry as he considered his options on the matter. "Is she particularly displeased?"
"Well, don't go anyplace unarmed. She'll probably jump you just to have a good spar, but no, she's not mad." Ruby sighed then. "Kind of wished she was. It's easier to deal with her blowing up and losing her temper than it is smelling booze on her breath and knowing it wasn't from some sort of party or something. I can't even reassure her about anything we talked about. Yang doesn't like unknowns unless she has some kind of control, but she doesn't. No one does, and that really freaks her out."
"I can understand that." He felt the weight of such trouble often enough himself. "Ruby…" He bit his lip. There were things he simply had to do, and he had no proper way to do such tasks. "About the context of our relationship moving forward, I was thinking quite deeply on the subject. If we are to be dating, if that is something you feel very certain about, then we should discuss what to do about your relatives."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I still haven't figured out a way to tell your father."
"Oh, that'll be easy. We'll do it the same way we handle any major discussion in the family." Ruby said as she stretched out across the bed, her back popping several times. "Just drop it on him like a sack of potatoes. He'll either go ballistic, get drunk, start moping around, or some hellacious combination of the three. If I were you, I'd be more paranoid about Yang, she's the one that can literally catch fire."