The offer was too enticing, it sounded too good to be true, most likely it was, and in a situation like this the Tribal took any ounce of suspicion he had and turned it up to eleven.

With a cool look on his face he asked, "Why me? You had another candidate right there, right? Able to respond without anyone asking and then suddenly help save the day?"

Ozpin replied with the same soft smile that was stuck on his face the second he arrived in the interrogation room and leaned on his cane, "We chose you based off your abilities, but for your friend, it's simply because we already offered him a student position at Beacon. We could identify easily Blake Belladonna due to birth certificates and records. But him? Well, he is a special case. We know nothing about him. It's not too unusual someone born in villages outside of jurisdiction of the cities and towns to not have much documentation." Ozpin shifted weight on his cane, "It's not strange either to see some unique people come and go here, but this young man is able to fight Adam Taurus on equal footing, even taking substantial injury and coming out fine the next day. We see him in you, but seeing as how capable you both are gives me judgement to invite you both to my school."

The Tribal digested all the information that he could. In some circumstances it made sense. But at the same time… A school? With a quizzical look, the Tribal asked, "What do you mean school? By the looks of you, this isn't some military academy, or anything above. Why do you want someone who can kill?"

Ozpin only sighed, "I see, you must be from outside too, it's strange to hear of someone who doesn't know about Beacon, but let me assure you, this isn't a Military Academy under the guise of a school for Huntsmen. We are genuinely a Huntsman academy, we're here to serve the people and protect them from the threats of Grimm."

The Tribal barely had an idea of what the fuck Grimm were, the only source of knowledge he had was from those magazines he read in that store before everything turned to shit. He actually thought those were fictional creatures from some shitty comic book that was getting a ton of publicity.

"So why do you think I'm good for a Huntsman Academy?"

Ozpin's smile darkened to a look of melancholy, and with a more somber tone he spoke, "You must understand, what you did tonight is what huntsmen and huntresses' sometimes are required to do. We aren't wholly for fending off Grimm, but more specifically the protection of the people, it isn't a situation anyone wants to be in. But for my students, they'll need all the training they can get. So far, my assistant Glynda has classes for mock battles, but training is something done on the student's own free time, something akin to homework. Sadly, some won't train or their training is inadequate." Ozpin paused for a second, "That's why I offer this position to you, I wish for you to train the students with a strict regiment against human opponents. They need this to save their lives and others." Ozpin's expression brightened and spoke with determination, "I need you to help them. Will you kindly accept my offer?"

The Tribal thought about this, he had these "Offers" before and he knew it was bullshit, and cutting through all the emotional cheese, he took it like this, "Teach my students and I'll clear your name, or be fucked." Or that's what he thought at least.

With a click of his tongue the Tribal made his answer, "No thanks, I'm good."

The Tribal knew he practically mind-fucked Ozpin by saying that. Ozpin slipped so many sugared-up words he was already half-way expecting to have diabetes, the Tribal didn't buy shit like that. With all the "Oh no! You have to save the world and shit!" Yeah…. No. Stuff like that doesn't work on him. If he was selling some shitty jet to a druggie who was trying to quit, it might've worked, but to the Tribal? No.

This led to one issue… Why did they want him so badly? This is what worried him—so in his mind—the best course of action would be to directly confront this bullshittery.

"Alright Ozpin. Tell me. Why are you essentially sucking my dick to get me to join your preschool? I hate fucking kids, they disrespect elders and act like they know what to do. I'm not a masochist and enjoy that stuff. So tell me your little secret like the super villain you are."

Ozpin's eyes instantly narrowed, "We're sorry if you don't like our offer, but my school has a name to uphold, I can't let my students simply fall by the wayside and receive an improper education while being understaffed. The vetting process is already difficult enough with all of our faculty barely able t-"

The Tribal shot up as he cut off Ozpin and spat words like bullets, "What the fuck does that got to do with me? I don't give a damn if you're understaffed! I don't give a damn about your kids either! They're all brats and you're all giving the Drifter the biggest fucking sham someone could fall for! You're literally calling a military academy under a different name. That's what it sounds like… So—again tell me—why do you put so much cockamany shit in your words?!"

He fucking knew it. There were people more qualified, but for some reason he was the one that they selected, they were even willing to bypass the whole vetting process for his ass.

There was silence from Ozpin but the Tribal growled under his breath, "It sucks that I'm not stupid huh?" Glynda could only stare daggers at the Tribal, what worried him though was that they just weren't telling, he wasn't really going to attempt to try and leave, more confrontations are the last thing he wants, but he really, really, wanted to leave. He didn't want this bullshit any further

With bated breath the Tribal spoke again, "Sorry, but I think it's my time to go." He strided around the insignificant table, head held high, he was ready to make a break for it.

Glynda stepped a foot out to confront him, though the glare Ozpin gave quickly silenced that action.

The only sounds left in the room was the shut of the door.

Glynda couldn't stop staring at that same door, she felt as if she should have done something at least. She felt so useless! She looked towards Ozpin with a reassuring look, "Ozpin… I know I doubted your judgement, but I didn't know this could go so terribly wrong."

Ozpin could only shake his head at the condolences, "Miss Goodwitch, there's nothing to worry about." Ozpin raised his hand up to show Glynda his scroll, "Me and Qrow have discussed this, we had contingencies in case this offer went wrong."

Glynda tilted her head, Ozpin never talked to me about this? "What do you mean 'contingencies.'?"

/-/

The food-court was busy like it always was, the customers were happy, but some were staring in concern, and others in strange amusement. Blake was dripping with sweat as it completely soaked her seat, she didn't expect this to take long based from what Patton said, but this was more than she expected!

"Blake, quit pussy-footing around, you finally got your break!" Patton was fucking tired of this moaning and groaning.

I'm tired!

It's too hot!

My legs hurt!

To Patton, Blake was being a little bitch. Sure they walked an entire grid pattern across the commercial district non-stop for his map on his Pip-Boy, even if Blake did say that, "There's maps you can buy!" Sure he could do that and add it to his Pip-Boy, but first of all, he didn't want to deal with that shit. Secondly, those maps were complete and utter ass. Some of the maps actually had the commercial district overlapping in some areas like the upper class and industrial areas. But lucky for Blake, they stopped in the perfect place!

Blake downed another bottle of water, she was "enjoying" a tuna sandwich that she hasn't even taken a bite from yet, in between gasps and gulps she wheezed, "What's wrong with you!" She finished another bottle of water and steadied her breath, "I thought you said the trip was 'short'!"

Patton could only shrug his shoulders as Blake shoved her face nearly to the floor with an air vent blasting cold air, "I mean, it was short when you think about it, just a lot of criss-crossing."

Blake barely listened, her poor, poor legs were so sore. She felt as if she couldn't walk, they felt like jelly, "Patton, your definition of 'short' isn't very short." Blake groaned as she can feel her leggings being permeated with sweat as she massaged her calves.

Patton leaned an arm on the table chuckling at her misfortune, "Pfft, I'm practically non-stop all the time, my problem is when we get to Beacon I actually have to sit still for once!"

Blake laid her face on the cold table, sadly it too quickly accumulated a slippery layer of sweat from her arm, "P-Patton… I literally need a foot rub or at least carry me around."

Patton could only shake his head at breakneck speeds at her suggestions, "Ha! Fuck that. First, I ain't into feet. They stinky, and I just don't like'm. Secondly Blake, how much you weigh again? A hundred pounds? A hundred and five or somethin'? Sorry Blakey-poo, an extra hundred pounds on my back won't feel good."

Her face could only look up with pure agony and tiredness as she nearly seemed to beg with a bedraggled voice, "Please don't make me walk again…"

Patton grew to know when Blake honestly was being serious about it—this was one of those times. He only gave a sigh in advance. He was learning womanology quickly, "Blake you stay there, I'll be back alright?"

Blake only groaned as she laid face first on the table of her own sweat, Patton gave her a pat on the back only to rub the excess fluids on the side of his pants.

Patton looked behind himself and into the main shopping area, bright colorful signs lit the main plaza of the mall, and each little outlet was grouped with other appropriate shops in probably some microcosm of aggressive marketing. What caught his eye out of all the clothing shops, instrument stores, appliance suppliers and Edgy Kids R' Us' was a record shop, no literally, records. Patton didn't even know they had fucking records on Remnant. Who knew?

Walking to the entrance it was smaller compared to other stores and inside was a radio buzzing inside playing "Classic" rock. The store was jam packed with a multitude of records, of course there were VHS tapes too. It made Patton feel old as a small child pointed to one and asked his father what it was.

Flipping through the records none of them are what they were like back home. But really, what did he expect honestly? He wasn't going to find Bing Crosby anywhere… That was until he stumbled upon a record by Ding Hrosby… Ding mother fuckin' Hrosby… He wanted to just buy it for shits and giggles. Picking up the sleeve he went to checkout, the store's radio played "Breaking" news, "A gunfight near the store led to the deaths of 27 different men, all of whom had a hand in trying to rob the establishment…"

Ohh…. Fuck that! He knew T was getting reported on, including himself, he didn't like that. He hurried his way through check-out, almost throwing the lien at the cashier and he left that store in a fucking flash. He wanted nothing of it.

Walking back to the Blake's sorry ass she looked slightly better, that's if groaning constantly equals better though.

Patton actually felt bad now, she couldn't eat whatsoever, so he digitized her sandwich for later and crouched down to actually offer her to let her piggy-back ride him. She was elated.

She grunted as she wrapped her arms around his body, trying to get a good grasp, but in the end she kept slipping with the still excess sweat, but finding purchase on the ridges of his breast plate she was able to keep a hold.

"Alrighty Blake, let's go, you must be dead tired." Patton tried to look behind himself, though he can barely see a thing, Blake was head first on his back asleep.

/-/

Face buried in a cool pillow, Blake loved this sensation. She felt as if she was the happiest girl alive at this point, the feeling of burning alive was gone, while she still ached slightly, the cool air helped make the pain dissipate and disappear. She was too happy, and felt as if nothing could stop this euphoric feeling.

"Blake? You up yet? You slept for like, seven fucking hours."

Oh yeah… Him…

She really didn't want to deal with him right now, especially considering they literally walked almost every block in this damn district.

"Blake! C'mon! Get up!" Patton blared again

Blake just groaned. Please! Please stop! I want to sleep more, don't ruin this! Her mind shouted, yet no words came through. Thankfully there was silence…

That was until the voice of Patton mere centimeters away from Blake's ear spoke, "I'm gonna do it Blake."

Her eyes snapped open, "Wait. Wha-"

SMACK

Patton smiled, he was glad that he did this early in life… Something that he never expected to do… He might've ruined his friendship with Blake though.

A good smack on the ass. That woke her up for damn sure. She shot like a rocket just comprehending what just happened, she gripped her right cheek and realized just what happened

"P-Patton… D-did you do what I think you did?" Blake stuttered in utter disbelief at what just happened.

Patton fucking high-fived himself, "Damn straight! My first time doing that and I feel like a god!" He fell to his knees, arms raised, and laughed maniacally, "Woohoo!"

Blake… She didn't want to raise her voice. She went silent. Silent treatment always works

She was furious! He just smacked her ass like he's known her all his life yet she doesn't even know what his damn face looks like! Blake's teeth were clenched, as she marched over to a seat in the corner of the room and read her book. If he tried to come to look her face-to-face, she would close her book, cross her arms and look away.

"Sorry 'bout that Blake, I gotta be a man and wake you up sometimes." He got no response, "Blake?"

Blake still didn't say anything.

Patton wasn't surprised, or felt bad—well he did feel bad—but it was probably because Blake was disappointed. He hated it when girls did that. Even if it was one of his peers. He felt like a child, averting eyes. Though that issue is easily resolved if someone tries to kill him, but someone he knew and actually did care about? It hurt. It was awkward, they both went silent and did both of their own things, on opposite ends of the room.

It was quiet for an hour, it was like two siblings after a fight, neither wanted to really attempt to talk to each other, difference being they weren't family, they were friends and could easily leave each other if need be. That was Patton's thinking at least.

Blake passed the time reading her book, every couple of minutes a page was flipped, and she kept reading, eyes glued to the book.

Patton just looked at his Pip-Boy. Counting and cataloging all the weapons and gear he has acquired over years in the wasteland. R91's, his AER9's, a M72 gauss rifle. Everything he has collected, including some items that did bring back painful memories. The Lone Wanderer and Courier. They were swell guys, but something he didn't want to think a lot about, just shove those thoughts in the back of his head.

He regularly looked back at Blake while she read her book, he felt like he kicked a puppy.

Ah fuck it, go big or go home. He was good at lying and bullshitting people to believe him, but being genuine and apologizing was always hard, no matter who you were. In his mind he took a leap of faith. Turning his chair around completely in the direction of Blake, he already piqued her attention, yet quickly turned away to her book. That was when she heard a sound that caused her shoulders to raise.

Silence was shattered when she heard the sounds of straps and buckles being undone. She felt awkward, Is he undressing? She listened, too scared to look, she kept reading her book.

"Hey Blake," Patton's voice stabbed the empty room, "Sorry for earlier." He felt weird apologizing for her ass. To be honest though, she did have a good one.

"Yeah it's alright." She still didn't turn to see Patton.

"Uh… Blake." Patton tilted his head in utter confusion, "I know you heard what I was doing, you know I'm not naked right? You can actually look at me."

Blake still didn't want to turn, to be honest. Even if she did see his face she wouldn't know what to think. She grew too accustomed of associating his mask as his actual face. She knew there was a face under there, but she felt weird actually thinking about it.

"I know Patton, It's just—I'm still angry with you." Blake sounded unsure, very unsure about how she felt.

"Blake, that sounded like an absolute crock of shit and you know it." Patton was just confused as fuck. Was this her way of fucking with him? Or was she really feeling unsure?

She was pissing her pants for no reason, Patton decided to take it upon himself to show himself. Taking a proud stride towards Blake he planted himself right in front of her on the floor looking up at the Faunus.

"See? Ain't so bad right?" Patton's breastplate and duster were gone. He had a Khaki Nomex workman's shirt. A basic banded collar too. Without all the extra gear, he had a noticeable belt with a holster and a large, ornate revolver in it. To Blake, he almost looked like a cowboy missing his hat.

"Blake?" Patton was getting scared now. She wasn't saying jackshit, instead she had a weird—smile?

Blake was able to get a full look on his face. Dull blue eyes, dusty, tousled, blonde hair in a crew cut that almost resembled what a G.I. would've had. His face wasn't a whole entire marvel to look at. A slight crook in his nose from when it was broken from what seemed many years ago and small marring on his face from exposure to the elements.

"So that's what you look like." Blake raised an eyebrow with a crook of a smile.

Patton's eyes narrowed, "Now hold the fuckin' phone, I can already tell that look. I ain't the prettiest fuck around. But don't you dare do that shit to me!"

Blake could only smile even wider, was screwing with him an option? Yes, yes it was. But was she going to stoop that low? No. Patton officially was someone close to her. Someone she actually could rely on. She tapped her chin like she was appraising his face and said, "Yeah. You don't look ugly," She traced her finger along the crook of Patton's nose, "But you might need some… Improvements..."

His shoulders drooped. He didn't know what to take of that. Actually, when he thought about it, the Think Tank basically cybernetically enhanced him and turned him into the seven-million dollar man, but they couldn't fix his fucking face. His. Fucking. Face.

In some way to grasp at some kind of adequacy he asked her,"Eh… At least I'm presentable right?" Patton shrugged in an attempt to mend his cracked pride.

Blake chuckled, "Just a little, you still look like you wallow in the mud" Her face straightened out, the cheery look turned to an expression of feigned annoyance, "But you know, I'm still a bit angry—and hungry—maybe you should get me a tuna sand-" She was cut off

Almost instantly, Patton digitized her Tuna Sandwich from earlier, it was still cold. Pre-war technology at it's finest, "Here."

Her eyes widened, "I-is that safe to actually eat?" She cautiously poked the mysteriously cold sandwich with a finger

"No duh, I got cola for damn days when I used to collect the ever living shit outta them!"

Blake just blinked and bit the bullet—or more like—the sandwich.

Patton just twiddled his thumbs while she chomped down on the sandwich before asking, "So we good now?"

With food still stuffed in her mouth she tried to speak, "Mhmm!"

Patton had to breathe a sigh of relief. His father was always right. He sometimes didn't understand a word his father said, but he understood it now. Women sometimes require a shit ton of making up to.

Blake already had trouble to keep a straight face while eating. From his harsh demeanor, his hard headedness and somewhat violent tendencies, he was far from evil. She was lucky to meet someone like him…

/-/

The Tribal had to warn the Drifter. That fucking man was nuts, if he had to worry only about him that'd be fine, but institutionalized crazies? That's something he didn't need. His mind was screaming Enclave and Enclave means Frank Horrigan and Frank Horrigan means something he never wanted to fight again.

He ran from alleyway to alleyway paranoid with the thought that these people were gonna try to track him, and using a radio transmission feels risky as Hell. First things first is that Patton was going to attend the school. So he would find that first, so he could just find Patton when he was about to arrive there that would be the easiest but most conspicuous idea. Fuck me, what do I do!?

Running around just trying to find him was a terrible idea, he might as well go on a wild goose chase. If he had nothing else then there was something he could do...

He was going to have to use that dish again and make another signal…

It was already dark, and was completely fine with that. A few stealth boys wouldn't kill him either if he had to use them. The main issue is to find a suitable location. The higher the better, but most likely Patton isn't some super high-rise building or in a shitbox of a building. This would probably be the best idea.

Running through the night, he ran through alleyways trying to find a roof access. That's when he found one. It was near an especially familiar place. That small store. The Tribal smiled when he saw the destroyed cheap locks on the rusted, rickety ladder.

Clambering up the ladder, the Tribal digitized his dish again along with his Ham radio.

With some dialing in, the Tribal nearly just shouted, he disregarded any kind of formalities, "Patton! Fucking listen!" There was only static, he assumed that Patton didn't have his radio setup, "Beacon is up to shit!" There was nothing really to say besides that and the Tribal kept repeating what he said until the static ended and Patton voice creeped out

"T! Jesus Christ! What're you talking about!?"

The Tribal already sounded bedraggled, "Beacon is up to shit, we need to meet up tomorrow. This shit isn't worth it!"

Patton didn't understand, "Alright, Listen, we'll meet up on Casper street, then you can tell me everything then alright?"

T could only sigh, "Alright. Tomorrow?"

Patton's voice parsed through the transceiver, "Yup, tomorrow."

The Tribal slumped with a dead tired expression on his face. he was hoping to explain everything soon, and he'd be able to get the Drifter from that damn school.

Alright guys, I like the reviews you people gave me! Even if it did tear into my story I'm excited to use reviews as a guide line. I know if my story seemed a bit "Similar to the point" like one reviewer put, but I was sure not to try something like that. So no, T won't be a doormat hopefully. Now this chapter? Eh... I'm not into Blake and Patton fluff. It just comes off as awkward and I wanted them to fight like a couple, and you guys finally know what Patton's face is like!

I have trouble liking that scene to be honest, I wanted Patton's face shown at a more pivotal moment, and I didn't want it to be some cutesy moment. If you guys had any issues let me know!