Chapter 3

Times They Are a Changing

XXXXX

He had been told before he had turned in for the night that Team RWBY, a Team with a spelling that still baffled him because it was pronounced "Ruby" and not however you pronounce an r, w, and b together, would arrive for him at 8 AM sharp. Despite the fact that he had turned in at midnight and had been dead tired, he found himself wide awake at 6:17, aimlessly wandering around his new lodgings. It had been described to him as being like a one person apartment, with one room for sleeping, one for using the bathroom, and a third for everything else. He wasn't quite sure how to react to all of it and had spent the majority of the mourning poking around it.

The kitchen had been a minor treasure trove of wonders for him. A fully functional refrigerator, one stocked with a few complementary foods Ozpin had probably slipped in, a working stove, and heating and air conditioning.

He had been astounded to find a working shower in the bathroom, doubly so when he figured out, quite painfully, that it had hot water. Despite this, it had taken him a good ten minutes of deliberation to decide if he even wanted a shower. Bathing in the wasteland was a rare thing, and it was usually done with soaked rags or sponges. Spraying yourself nonstop while you washed yourself was just such a massive and selfish waste of clean water. But water seemed to be in abundant supply here, to the point where no one was in danger of going thirsty. The idea of there just being that much clean water didn't feel real, and he kept getting bombarded by paranoid thoughts that Remnant didn't have nearly as much clean water as they thought they did and they were wasting it.

Eventually, he had compromised. Instead of using the shower, he had taken a couple of towers and soaked them in the sink, using them and soap to slowly clean himself. Even then, the warm water felt amazing in the towels.

Currently, he was standing in the bathroom, toweling himself off from his bath and sliding his clothes back on. He took a look at himself in the mirror. His hair was getting a little long, both on his head and on his face. He was starting a job tomorrow, so a shave was probably in order. Drawing his combat knife, he approached the mirror and had angled his face to start on his right when he spotted something next to the mirror. A bottle labeled "R. Petrosinella's Shaving Cream" with an odd-looking tool next to it. Picking it up, he turned it over. He remembered his father had once said that his grandfather, James's great-grandfather had shaved with something like this, a weird stick with a couple of horizontal blades in the edges. And somehow the shaving cream helped.

Putting down the odd tool, James picked up the shaving cream and gave an experimental squirt onto his finger. An odd, white, fluffy substance came out. He stared at it, wondering what he was supposed to do. He thought hard back to what his father had said about this, but when the Brahmin had been fed and watered and the family had made camp for the night, his dad had been the type to ramble. The type of person who couldn't tell a simple story without going off on fifteen different tangents, and so James had developed a tendency to tune a lot of it out. He vaguely recalled something about putting it on the stubble you were shaving, so James did just that.

He stared at himself in the mirror for a few seconds with a speck of shaving cream on his face before realizing how utterly stupid he felt. "Fuck it," he said, putting the can down and going back for his knife. Five minutes later, his stubble had been carefully shaved off to the best of his ability with the knife and he had moved onto his hair. Seizing handfuls of it and then slicing through it, James slowly worked his way through his hair until it was at a length he liked.

Sheathing his knife, he took a look at himself. There was still some stubble left, although it was a very thin layer, and his hair was nice and short now. Though, with a pang of annoyance, he realized he had cut off well over half of the last vestiges of his brown hair, not leaving much left. "Fuck," he said, sticking one hand in his hair and moving it around, looking for hidden pockets of brown. He had no such success. "Well, guess I just gotta get used to the gray hair," he grumbled.

Around that point, there was a sharp knock on the door. He checked his Pip-Boy. 8:02. That would be them, assuming someone else hadn't decided to pay him a house call. He made for the door, before pausing to look uncertainly at the corner of the room. There was a weapons locker there, with all of his weapons inside with the exception of his knife and A Light Shining In Darkness, which was strapped to his back. Would carrying around that many weapons be seen as good taste in this world? He didn't know. He stared at the arsenal, taking it all in and wondering, feeling a little lost.

There was another knock on the door. "One second!" he called out. "Screw it," he muttered, approaching the locker and loading himself up with his weapons and munitions, storing the White Fang SMG in his rucksack before approaching the door and opening it.

"Heya!" Four teenage girls were waiting for him on the other side, the one with the absurdly long blonde hair in the front, waving at James. He did a quick mental recount of their names. Yang, Blake, Ruby, Weiss. Again, all of them were wearing outfits that heavily featured colors that matched their hair. James privately thought that he might be onto something with his theory that that was a kind of fashion statement. "Ready to go?" Yang asked. "We're-wait hold up, you carry around that many weapons?" she asked, pointing to James's guns.

He paused, giving the girls a good look over before answering. Blake had her...thing at her side, Weiss appeared to have a rapier, there was a red, blocky thing on Ruby's back, and Yang didn't have any weapons James could see. Apparently, people tended to travel light with weaponry here. Though considering Blake's weapon had somehow managed to double as a ranged and melee weapon, maybe most weapons were just more streamlined. "Yeah. Tended to spend a lot of time away from settlements, didn't know how long it would be or what I would run into, so I wanted to be prepared."

Yang nodded, looking thoughtful. "Ok, I can dig that. What are their names?"

There was a long pause. "I beg your pardon?" Names? What, was he supposed to name his weapons Bob, Jim, and Sarah or something?

"Their names?" Yang replied, sounding as if she didn't understand why James was confused. "I mean, any weapon you trust your life with has to have a name." With a flick of her wrist, Yang's bracelets unpacked, stretching outward to cover her knuckles to a flurry of mechanical clinking. "These bad boys are called Ember Celica."

Weiss drew her sword, and unless James was mistaken, it appeared to have a revolver's cylinder just below the pommel, with objects of bright color in each of the chambers. "Myrtenaster," she said proudly.

Blake unholstered her sword/SMG/grappling hook whatever it was. "Gambol Shroud." James was getting to the point where he was wondering if any of these names meant anything. They sounded impressive, but at this point, all that meant to him was that it was going to be a lot harder to remember them. A thought process that was broken as Ruby revealed her weapon.

Taking the blocky shape off of her back, she gave it a twirl. In a single, fluid, graceful moment, it unfolded into a giant scythe, one that was easily bigger than the girl holding it. It happened so quickly, and the scythe had proven to be so much bigger than it's compact form had implied it was, that James took a step back in shock. Ruby smiled, apparently pleased at the reaction. "Crescent Rose!" she said proudly.

"I see," James said, feeling overwhelmed. "Well, can't say I ever gave my guns names. 'My rifle' and 'my shotgun' were always enough for me. Though I sometimes call this gun 'Therapy' as a joke," he said, pointing at his SMG. The memory of him pumping bullets into the Big Mountain satellite flashed through his mind as he said that. "So I...well now that I think about it, I do have one gun with a name." Reaching around to his back, he drew his pistol from it's concealed position on its back and held it up. "A Light Shining In Darkness" he said. "Six shot magazine, 45. caliber auto pistol, I mainly use it as a holdout."

"That's more like it," Yang said, looking at A Light Shining In Darkness. "So why don't your other guns have names? I mean, if you can come up with names like that, you're pretty good at it. And your other guns deserve names more than a dinky little pistol like that."

James let out a laugh. "Dinky? It's a holdout pistol. A concealed weapon. It's supposed to be on the small side. I can't exactly walk around with a big bulge on my back and try and pass it off as a particularly bad cyst. As for why it's simple really. I wasn't the one who named it. This pistol was a gift from a man I met in my travels. Religious man, damn interesting to talk to, but he was kind of in a dark place when I met him. Let his anger and his pain get the better of him." He looked at the engraving on the side of the pistol. He couldn't read it, but Joshua had told him what it meant. "And the light shineth in the darkness and the darkness comprehended it not." He smiled. "But I think he found his way by the time we parted."

"What happened?" Blake asked. There was an odd expression on her face as she said that.

"It's a bit of a long story," James said, tucking his pistol away. "I doubt we have time for it."

"Oh, no no no no no," Yang said, a wide smile on her face. "You can't start with a lead like that and just leave us hanging. We want details, all of them."

James supposed he should've seen this coming. "Ok. But I haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon. How's that for a trade, I tell you the story, you tell me where I can get some good breakfast around here." He was pretty sure he had some smoked Gecko wrapped up in his rucksack, but it would be best to save that until he had nothing else left. Aside from that, part of him was rather curious to test out the local cuisines.

Yang snapped her fingers. "Weiss, this one's on you. Make it someplace fancy, but not too fancy."

Almost at once, the white-haired girl had had a strange device, James had to think for a second before remembering it was a scroll, in her hands and was typing into it. "Well H&G's Bakery is open early in the morning, and let me tell you they have pastries to die for, but if that's not your thing I know a couple of local cafes that do standard variety."

"Honestly I'm not picky, you decide," James said, hoping this wouldn't come back to bite him. "Breakfast is on me, I got the cash." He glanced at the bag of Nuka-Cola and Sunset Sarsaparilla caps that he had placed on the small table next to his bed. It was frustrating, back home that would've been a small fortune of money, but here it was practically worthless. Still, at least he had some money to replace it. Move on and adapt was the only way forward at the moment.

Weiss lowered her scroll, looking aghast. "We can't let you do that! We just met, and I know your money situation is a little uncertain at the moment." James half wanted to tell her to not rub it in but didn't want to be rude, so he stayed silent.

"Weiss, Weiss Weiss Weiss," Yang said, shaking her head and giving comically overdone tuts. "When a nice man or woman offers to buy you food, you don't turn them down. It's free food Weiss, I can count on my fingers the number of times you should turn down free food."

"You are uncultured," Weiss said in a huff.

"Guilty as charged," Yang said with a wide grin.

Weiss glared at Yang. James wondered if he should intervene, stopping students from bickering would probably be something he would be doing a lot on the new job, but Weiss spoke again before he could decide. "I was going to say that I should pay, seeing as my allowance more than covers a five-person meal, with plenty of wiggle room after that."

That moment was when James knew he had to put his foot down. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm around three times older than you, I'm going to be working with your teachers, and I've got a month's advance burning a hole in my pocket with no rent coming up. It wouldn't be right for me to expect you to foot the bill with your limited allowance." He felt like that was a well-reasoned way to put it, and Weiss didn't strike him as the type of person who would argue too much with an authority figure who was being diplomatic. What he hadn't expected was Yang to burst out laughing.

"Weiss's allowance. Limited. Oh, that's a good one," she choked out between laughs.

"Yang," Blake said, her voice stern. "He doesn't know." Almost at once, Yang stopped laughing.

"Oh yeah. Right. Sorry, forgot," she said, looking guilty. James looked back and forth between all of the girls, feeling thoroughly confused. It was a special type of confusion, the confusion where you were certain that you were the only one in the room that didn't know something, and he didn't even know where to start asking questions. Thankfully, Ruby came to his rescue.

"Weiss's family is kinda rich," she said bluntly. "Like, super rich. Like, there may not actually be anyone in Remnant that's richer than her family. Her dad runs the Schnee Dust Company" James stared at Ruby, then at Weiss. Weiss had a sour expression on her face for reasons James wasn't sure of, but she quickly suppressed it.

"I can assure you that there are richer families out there, I had to sit and listen about my father complain about them for hours on end," she said. "But, as Ruby puts it, my family is indeed super rich. And my allowance reflects that." She produced a card. Where from, James had no idea, Weiss's dress didn't seem to have any pockets or pouches. They had to be hidden somewhere. "As such, I do insist that you let me pay. In a certain sense, you're a guest here in Remnant, and I intend to be a good host."

James wanted to argue against Weiss's suggestion, but with the revelation that her dad was Heck Gunderson on steroids, he felt like he didn't have a good leg to stand on. So, accepting defeat, he nodded. Weiss smiled brightly. "Excellent. To H&G's Bakery, it is!" Turning around with a graceful flourish, she led the way out, James and the others following.

"ED-E!" James called. The eyebot had been resting on James's bed and burst to life as he followed James and Team RWBY out the front door. The light shone down on them as they left, and James put his hand up to shield his eyes. "Question. Does Aura keep you from getting sunburns?"

"Nope, doesn't protect you from something like that. So," Yang said, sliding up to James's side. "I believed you promised us a little backstory for A Light Shining In Darkness?"

James nodded. He had promised. "Did Blake tell all of you about the Legion?" He received a trio of nods. "Right. The Legion was founded by Caesar, but he had a right-hand man called Joshua Graham. For a long time, Joshua fought alongside Caesar as his legate, killing and conquering in his name, until the Legion met the NCR. Joshua led Caesar's army in a battle that was supposed to end the NCR presence in the region. Instead, they ended up walking into a trap and were decimated. Caesar blamed Joshua for the failure, and punished him."

"He tried to kill him didn't he?" Blake said at once.

James nodded. "Key word there is tried. Caesar had Joshua covered in pitch, set on fire, and tossed into the Grand Canyon. The funny thing about Joshua though? He just refuses to die. The NCR thought they had killed him a dozen different times, but he just kept cropping up, and Caesar did not succeed where they had failed. Disillusioned with Caesar, Joshua limped back to his old home, New Canaan. The experience changed him, and he began to atone for what he had done. But Caesar?" His voice grew low. "Caesar is beyond petty. He ordered an attack on New Canaan, used a tribe called the White Legs to do it. They slaughtered everyone they could find, combatant and noncombatant alike, and then salted the earth so nothing could grow there. A lot of the Canaanites escaped, but just as many were killed."

There was an uncomfortable silence from the four girls as they walked through Beacon campus. James had to admit, the place was impressive. Towering buildings in pristine condition and healthy green grass growing all around, but he wasn't focusing on it at the moment. His thoughts were drifting back to Zion. "Then what happened?" Ruby asked, sounding as if she wasn't sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

"Joshua took refuge with a pair of tribes the New Canaanites had been working with and helped them to defend themselves against the White Legs. That's around the point I came in. The White Legs hit a caravan I was traveling with, I was the only survivor." James still sometimes felt bad about the caravan members that had been so unceremoniously gunned down that day. Except for Ricky. Fuck Ricky. James had never heard so much concentrated stupid spew out of someone's mouth before he had met Ricky. And he had met Mr. Fantastic and a talking toaster. "I met up with Joshua and the tribes after that and helped them with the White Legs."

He thought back to Joshua, and how otherworldly the man could seem at times, and yet so very human at others. "He's a hard man to describe. Religious in a time where not a lot of people are and pretty philosophical. But the man was angry. So goddamn angry. A lot of the viciousness from his time in the Legion was still around, he was just channeling it in a more productive way." Unless James was imagining it, Blake looked extremely uncomfortable right now. Her eyes widened and her back stiffened. But when he tried to catch her eye, she looked away. He decided not to press the issue.

"We led a counter-attack on the White Legs and we won pretty by a good-sized margin. But then, Joshua started executing White Legs that had surrendered and was about to kill their leader." He let out a sigh. Salt-Upon-Wounds had been a bastard in every sense of the word. A man that wouldn't have been out of place as a Centurion in the Legion. "It's hard to make calls out in the wasteland. You have to make sure you survive while holding onto your morals, and it's a damn tough tightrope to walk. He led a tribe that slaughtered innocents, but I could see it in his eyes. He was a broken man. His warrior spirit was gone. Killing him wouldn't have accomplished anything. But when I talked Joshua down from doing it, I didn't do it for him. I did it for Joshua."

Words echoed in James's mind. I want to have my revenge. Against him. Against Caesar. I want to call it my own, to make my anger God's anger. To justify the things I've done. "If things had been different, I don't know. I would have never have let Salt-Upon-Wounds leave that valley if there was the slightest hint that he would've gone back to raiding and pillaging. But as it stands, the White Legs collapsed after their defeat, and from what I've been hearing Joshua Graham has become a more tempered person since then. He certainly seemed that way when we parted." He patted the pistol on his back. "With him giving me a gift on the way out."

"Wow," Ruby said, her eyes wide. "How many adventures like that have you been on?"

"More than I can count, but one story's enough for right now," James said. "I...where are we?" He stopped. They had long since left the campus, it was only a tiny block in the distance. He could see the vague outline of a city not far ahead. They were all on a dirt path connecting the two, but it had crossed through a wooded area, thick with trees and foliage. James had seen trees before, but they were all dead and withered. These trees were alive and covered with bright green leaves, the grass around them just as bright. James stared, open-mouthed at it all.

The girls didn't seem to find it particularly impressive. "Oh, just a bit of forest that's between Beacon and the city," Weiss said. "The walk is a little long, sorry about that, but apparently Beacon's founders thought that urban clutter wasn't something they wanted near their school. It does help give off a peaceful atmosphere at times, but it makes the commute a bit of a pain." The four girls moved on, heading in the direction of the city. James stayed where he was.

The forest had an odd smell. A fresh smell of things growing, dying, and growing again. And somehow it smelled a little wet too. He closed his eyes and listened. He heard a happy tweeting noise. Birds, far happier and kinder than the crows he was used to. At that moment, a strong wind blew up. It felt pleasantly cool on James's skin, and it rustled the leaves in the trees softly. His throat felt very tight.

He opened his eyes. A yellow butterfly fluttered in front of his face, hovered there for a few seconds, and then flew off. Somewhere out of sight, he heard grass rustling. No doubt a small animal scurrying about in it. He sniffed. "Mr. Walker? I mean, James?" Blake had doubled back and was now standing in front of him. "I," she paused, then took a step forward in concern. "Are you ok?"

James touched his face. He wasn't sure when he had started crying, but a steady stream of tears was now streaking down both sides of his face. Sniffing again, he rubbed away the tears with the inside of his arm. "I think," he said. "I'm sorry, it just kind of all hit me at once. W-we don't have anything like this where I'm from. Not anymore." He pulled his arm back, wiping away the last of his tears with his hand. "Sorry you had to see a stupid old man getting sentimental on you."

"Please, don't apologize," Blake said, looking deeply concerned. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yeah," James said, giving a small smile. "Trust me. If I see more like this, I'll never want to leave this place." Blake nodded uncertainty. Blake led the way back to where the rest of Team RWBY had stopped to wait. All of them gave questioning looks, but Blake shook her head. They continued to walk, the city getting close. "Hey, I told you guys a story, any chance I can ask a question in return?"

"What about?" Weiss asked curiously.

"The White Fang, who are they exactly?" James said. "I mean, I think I get the general gist of it. Not very fond of humans. I'm guessing the animal parts make them different from humans and there's some tension there?" He looked around at all four of them. "Help me out here, I'm still mostly in the dark and I want to know which organization I just killed seven members of."

"Nothing you said was wrong," Blake said slowly. "Faunus, they're called Faunus, are looked down on by a lot of humans." James vaguely recalled the term Faunus coming up last night, though if Blake had told him what they were, it had gotten lost in the shock of learning the nature of his situation. "The White Fang used to be a peaceful organization that strove for equality between humans and Faunus. But there was a shift in leadership. Things became more violent. Some members of the White Fang even advocate for Faunus superiority."

"Wait, don't tell me," James said, bitterness seeping into his voice. "And any Faunus that willingly associates with humans, or god forbid is with one romantically, they're a race traitor?" The dog-eared man flashed in his memories.

For a second, James thought Blake was staring at him. Then he realized she was staring at anything in particular, and that her eyes had gone glassy. Before he could voice his concerns though, she refocused on him, and the moment had passed. "I wouldn't be surprised," she said bitterly. "I mean, you saw what I saw yesterday. So many of them just want to hurt and kill people to make themselves feel better. After what they did to Vale, it's clear that they're not very picky about who they target."

"Fantastic," James growled. "Just great. Yeah, this kind of crap happened back where I was from too. Humans, Ghouls, and Super Mutants don't exactly sing and skip under a rainbow. There was this one rumor I heard about what happened on the east coast. I hope it isn't true, but there was apparently a bloodbath over there. Ghouls got let into a safe haven and then massacred all the humans inside. Then someone massacred all of them." Of course, he had only heard one half of the problem. "And humans would have had to do something to push Faunus to this point?"

"It is," Blake said. "There are vile, hateful people all over Remnant. Vale's honestly pretty good about it, Faunus can walk around without fear or worry for the most part, but even then you still have thugs like Cardin. And there are no guarantees outside the city." She sighed. The bow on her head twitched. James stared at it for a second before it clicked. Ahhhhhhh. She's got personal investment in this one, he thought."So what's a Super Mutant? And a Ghoul?"

"Lot's of history with the Super Mutants as to where they came from that I'm not ready to go into," James said. "But imagine a person who's eight feet tall, has arms and legs like tree trunks, is bald, dark green, and exposed veins all over. That's a Super Mutant. Ghouls are normal sized, but without their epidermis and probably some of their dermis has, and with a raspy voice. They both used to be human. Super Mutants were changed by some artificial chemical thing, and Ghouls were changed by exposure to radiation. Things can get pretty ugly between them and humans, and sometimes even between Super Mutants and Ghouls. A lot of Super Mutants way back when kind of had the whole superior race thing going on too. That's a side effect of you being immortal provided you don't starve or die a violent death. Same thing goes for the Ghouls. I know one that's well over two-hundred years old, the crusty old coot."

"I imagine things are worse when the things that make them different are so noticeable like that, they're impossible to hide," Blake said. As she spoke, she idly adjusted her bow. Ok, that settles it, she's a Fanus, he thought. "But you said you knew one?"

"Yup, name's Raul," James said. "Guy's so old he was around before the war started. Had a Super Mutant in my group of friends too, Lily. Super Mutants technically don't have a biological sex, but she was a woman before she turned and I'm not an asshole. I think you guys would like him, provided you ignore he's drier than the Mojave. Figuratively and literally."

"And, we are here!" Ruby announced happily. They had reached Vale. At first, it was scattered buildings, houses mainly, in areas where there was still plenty of trees and grass. Then the buildings got more densely packed, the grass was swallowed up by streets and sidewalks, and swarms of people filled the streets. James's eyes narrowed. This he knew. Aside from the fact that the buildings were better maintained and there were a lot more people, this reminded him a lot of Freeside. His eyes darted from alleyway to alleyway, keeping an eye out for anyone who might decide they were an easy mark. He rested his hand on the handle of his SMG, just in case he had to draw it in a hurry.

"What's up?" Ruby asked, apparently having noticed James's behavior. All of the girls were looking at him again.

"Just making sure no one decides to stick a knife between our ribs," he replied. "We've all got a lot of hardware here, it'd fetch a good price on an underground market." One would think that no one would dare to attack a group this heavily armed, but desperation could drive people to do just about anything. James himself had been attacked in Freeside by thugs with pipes even though he had been armed, armored, and with company.

"Uh. That doesn't happen here. At all," Weiss said uncertainty. "I mean, sure, walk down a dark alley at night and who knows what happens, but in Vale? In broad daylight? In public? That just isn't something you worry about in Vale."

"...Oh," James said, taking his hand off of his SMG. He felt stupid. The logical part of his brain told him that he had been going on decades of instinct and that no one had told him that crime wasn't a factor here. The rest of him couldn't help but realize that this was the second time this morning that Team RWBY had stopped to wonder if everything was all right with him. It was getting to the point where he was wondering if everything was all right with him. Even as they continued to walk, him receiving an occasional backward glance from the girls, he couldn't help but keep watching the alleys out of the corner of his eye. Not having to worry about being attacked? At all? It didn't feel real. Nothing about Remnant felt real.

Mercifully, his mind was taken off his distressing topic by Ruby. "Oh my gosh. Emerald? EMERALD!" She started waving enthusiastically. There was a small, one-story building not far ahead. A sign labeled "H&G's Bakery" was hanging over it, and a small group of people was right in front of it. They were all noticeably older than Team RWBY, at least in their mid-twenties and possibly older. A man in gray with matching hair, a woman with jet black hair and a brownish vest with black pants, and a woman with green hair, dark skin, and a bizarre top that didn't cover much. James had to take a double take at the last woman, unable to believe his eyes. Was that hair really green?

The woman turned as he was wondering it. Apparently, she was Emerald. Yang fell back in the group to where James was and leaned towards James and whispered to him. "Emerald," she pointed at the green haired woman, "Mercury," the man in gray, "Cinder," black haired woman. He gave a nod of appreciation.

"Hey Ruby, good to see you!" Emerald said as they approached. She had an overwhelmingly bubbly feel to her, one that brought smiles to all four members of team RWBY. Even James felt his lips curling upward as the woman beamed at them all. "Who's your friend? A father? Uncle?"

"Nah, nothing like that, just a guy who's starting work at Beacon," he said. "I'm...not from around here," he said. After all the embarrassing moments he had had this morning, he didn't feel like going into too much detail about his situation again. The broad strokes would be enough. "Kind of ended up at Beacon without having a lot of say in the matter, don't really have a way home at the moment, so I'm working at Beacon for the moment." He looked at the three of them. Emerald was looking at him with the same unfocused happiness she had been showing since she had noticed Team RWBY, while Cinder was silently eyeing him with interest. Mercury wasn't paying any attention to him, Team RWBY, or his companions.

In fact, at that moment, James noticed he was setting up a chess board on a table outside the cafe. Opposite him, a positively ancient old man, wrinkled and balding, was setting up his end of the pieces, albeit at a far slower rate. The man was covered from head to do in robes and was wearing black gloves, meaning his head was the only part of his body uncovered. Even then, a pair of sunglasses was resting over his eyes. Every time he put up a chess piece, he physically felt for it, grasping two or three times before he could find it. Every once in awhile, a woman behind him would step in to help.

She had fiery red hair that was in a very odd style. Some of it in elegant braids, while the rest of it hung wild and free. She wore an outfit that was a very dark red and seemed to be made out of some kind of leather, bared her arms, and had a pair of hand axes hanging from her back. But what was truly striking about her was that every exposed inch of skin was covered in tattoos. Bright blue tattoos that were a jumble of shapes that James couldn't follow, but had an organized chaos look to it. As James looked, she helped the old man put the final piece into place. "Ah, there we go," the man said in a soft voice. "Remind me, I'm black?"

"Yeah yeah," Mercury said, his voice positively oozing with apathy. Picking up one of his pawns, he moved it forward. "Pawn to f3."

"What's going on here?" Ruby asked with curiosity, stepping up to the chess match and watching it.

"The old man chuckled." I overheard an argument between these fine young ladies and gentleman. One of them said her companion was so bad at chess that he couldn't even beat a blind man,"

"Well, hate to say it, it's true," Emerald interjected. "Mercury is pretty bad at chess. Stupidly so."

The old man chuckled again. "I recall more colorful language. But I was interested. I have a sense of humor, so I thought I'd put her claim to the test." Gently feeling the top of his chess pieces, he found one of his pawns and moved it forward two spaces. "Pawn to e5."

"Emerald likes to run her mouth, anything to make her eat her words is fine by me, Mercury said, still sounding like he couldn't care less about anything if he tried. With a bored look, he glanced at the board and moved a pawn two spaces forward. "Pawn to g4."

"A fair stance," the old man said, feeling for his pieces again and then taking his queen. "Queen to h4. It was a fun match. Sadly I think your friend might have been onto something. I mean no offense, but you literally could not have made a worse opening move than that."

"Hm?" Mercury said, looking down at the board. "What do you mean?" James did a quick look at the board, seeing if there was any move that Mercury could make. When he had moved his two pawns forward, he had left open a path to his king, and the old man had moved his queen there. It had a direct line of attack to the king, and Mercury could neither move his king nor get another piece in front to protect it.

"Checkmate," the old man said simply. "I hate to say it, but your friend was right. You can't even beat a blind man." Emerald's smile took on a very smug air. Mercury gave a disinterested sigh.

"Whatever," he said, getting to his feet.

"So, are you all students at Beacon too?" James said, doing his best not to laugh at Mercury's pitiful display in chess. Two moves. Checkmated in two moves. He barely played chess and he was certain that even he could have made it to five.

"Oh no, we go to Haven Academy," Emerald said. "We're in town for the Vytal Festival." James nodded, hoping that it would be convincing enough to hide the fact that he had no idea what a "vital festival" was. He was pretty sure you didn't need festivals to live. "Though we've been dropping into Beacon classes a lot, can't fall behind on our educations. So who knows, we might see you."

"Huntsmen and Huntresses in training then?" the old man said from where he sat. The redheaded woman behind him handed him a drink, James wasn't sure when she had gotten it because she hadn't had it before, tapping him gently on the shoulder before. The old man took it, happily slurping on the straw sticking out of it. "Mmm, thank you Róta. Well, that's interesting. Shame I won't be in town for the festival, Róta and I need to head back to Mantle well before then."

"Oh, you're from Mantle?" Weiss asked, perking up as the man spoke. "I thought that you might be from Mistral."

The man smiled as he looked at Weiss. "Indeed young lady. I used to be from Mistral, but I immigrated to Atlas when I was a child." He lowered his drink. "Oh, where are my manners. I'm Tsung-Han. You can call me Han. I know manners would indicate you call me Tsung, but I was never bothered by that." He took another long sip. "My friend here is Róta Bloodaxe, I met her up there myself." Róta gave a small bow.

"Wait, seriously?" James said before he could stop himself. "Bloodaxe?"

Róta smiled silently at him. Thankfully it wasn't an "I'll rip your head off if you say one more word" smile, but a smile of actual amusement. "Her people, a small isolated tribe, had a leader in their history that used that name. Her family adopted it." Another long drink. "So, is anyone else up for a game? I can squeeze in one more before Róta and I need to catch our flight back home."

"Not me," Mercury said, getting up without a backward glance. "Cinder, you said we had to be somewhere?"

"I did," Cinder said. Still smiling, a smile that was rather disarming in ways James couldn't put into words, she held out her hand to him. "I look forward to seeing what you bring to Beacon Academy." Smiling, James took her hand and shook it. Giving a gesture for the rest of her team to follow, Cinder walked away, Mercury and Emerald right behind her. James watched them go, feeling a strange mixture of emotions inside of him. Emerald seemed nice, Mercury seemed like a bit of a jerk who never grew out of his broody teenage years, but Cinder made him feel uneasy.

"Well!" Weiss said, stepping forward and sitting down opposite Han. "I'll happily play you, sir!" She reset the board, a very brief process, before handing her card to Blake, who took it. "I think five cinnamon buns for all of us should be enough," she said as Han slowly moved his own pieces into place. Blake nodded and moved into the store as Weiss made her first move, calling it out for Han. Then Han made his move. A brisk pace quickly developed, with it becoming clear that Weiss wasn't the novice that Mercury was. A pile of captured black chess pieces started to pile up to her right, with Han's queen topping the pile.

But Han was matching her blow for blow, and for every one of his pieces Weiss managed to take, she was forced to give up one of hers in return. A good five turns passed with Weiss holding her queen back in order to keep it the fight, only for Han to finally take it after sacrificing one of his rooks as bait. Weiss's eyes were boring down onto the board in laser focus as she began to take longer and longer to plan out her moves, even though the board was starting to become very sparse.

Han seemed to be having the time of his life, chucking every time he lost a piece, and taking long sips of his drink as he did. "Don't remember the last time I played someone who gave me this much of a thrashing," he said cheerfully. "If you're this good now, I can only imagine how good you'll be twenty years from now." When Blake emerged from the bakery with five bulky pastries in hand, Weiss barely paid attention as one was handed to her along with her card. She took one bite before moving her last knight to take Han's last bishop.

He grinned. "I was hoping you'd do that. I needed a distraction." He moved one of his two remaining pawns forward. "May I have my queen back please?" Weiss's face turned pale as she silently took Han's pawn off the board, replacing it with his queen. "Well, your move."

Weiss took a deep breath, a large bite of her roll, and looked silently at the board. There were a grand total of six pieces left. Both kings, a pawn and a bishop for Weiss, a pawn and a queen for Han. James took his roll but didn't take his eyes off the board. There was a certain magic in watching a bout of skill that was way above your level, and Weiss and Han were mesmerizing to watch. That being said, things did seem to have finally peaked in Han's favor. But Weiss didn't seem ready to give up.

She moved her king back a space, out of range of his queen, right into the corner of the board. "I know what you're trying to do, lure my queen into a spot where your bishop can get her. Well, I'm not falling for that trap." Instead, he moved his own bishop to claim Weiss's remaining pawn. With a swift move, Weiss moved her bishop, taking his in return. "And with that, your last major piece falls." His queen took her bishop. "Make your move."

Weiss only had her king left, boxed onto the corner of the board. Despite this, she leaned back into her chair, folding her arms, looking proud of herself. "I can't." James looked more closely. Weiss's king was still in the corner. Han's queen was two above and one to the left of it. Every spot Weiss could moe her king to was in the range of the queen, but the space it was already on wasn't. James blinked. He was pretty sure this meant that Han had won, but no one else seemed to be reacting that way. Han himself was reaching across the board, touching the pieces to remind himself where they were.

Then he let out a laugh. "Well well. You can't put your own king in check, can you? It's a draw then."

Weiss nodded, holding her hand out for Han to shake. "Good game." Han nodded in return. Weiss continued to hold her hand out, waiting for the shake to come, but it never did. Behind Han, Róta's eyes to Weiss, before jerking her head in the direction of Han's. Specifically, at his sunglasses. Weiss's face turned bright red as she slowly lowered her hand. Desperate for something else to do, she picked up her bun and took a large bite of it. Seeing her eat, James remembered that he had a bun of his own and started to eat it without looking.

He had chewed for half a second before an explosion of flavors hit his tongue. Deliciously sweet and wonderfully warm, the bun tasted better than anything he had ever eaten. "God. They don't have anything like this back in my world." He regretted saying that almost at once.

"World?" Han said, turning in James's direction, Róta doing the same. James fought back the urge to groan.

"It's hard to explain, and honestly I've been through too much in the past 24 hours to have the strength to go through it all. But let's just say...I used to be from another place and an incident made me end up here. Not sure if I'll be getting back anytime soon, if at all." He looked down at the bun in his hands. It was a rich dark brown, sticky to the touch, and covered in white cream. He had never had anything this expertly prepared to eat back in the Mojave. "It's been a tough time, I'm not going to lie."

"Sounds like you're going through a lot," Han said. "But I've been through hard times myself and I've a bit of advice for you. Always push forward. No matter how hard it feels, no matter how much you feel like you should just give up, always push forward."

"And besides, you've got people who will help you out!" Ruby said excitedly. "We can't just let you do all of this by yourself."

James grinned. "Well, got me there." He took another bite of the bun. It really was good.

"I'm sure you'll find a way back to your Earth in no time," Han said. "But I think now should be a time of relaxation. Let the worries come another day. You're working with these young ladies tomorrow? I think they should be sharing some of their experiences as Huntresses with their new instructor."

"Well, if we're gonna be telling him about how awesome team RWBY is, maybe we should tell him about the time we fought a giant robot on the highway?" Yang said, flashing that grin that she seemed to have honed to perfection. "Thing was as big as a house and we still took it down. Not a scratch on any of us. Or about the time we fought another one on top of a train that the White Fang was using."

"You're kidding me," James said, staring at her.

"Nope!" Yang said cheerfully.

"It's worth pointing out that the latter one happened the day we met you," Blake said. "So we all were having a pretty stressful day that day."

"In that case I think we better talk about something else," James said, searching his brain for light-hearted stories to share. There were half of the things Cass spewed out when she was getting tipsy. All things that would get him fired in a heartbeat. There was Fisto. No, that still fell into the realms of "I am tired of being employed." Ricky, no, fuck Ricky. Well, if no one else had anything, he supposed he could always talk about a man and his obsession with Dinky the Dinosaur. Thankfully he was spared from the nightmare that was trying to psychoanalyze Cliff Briscoe.

"Oh, we gotta tell him how we got bunk beds set up in our rooms," Yang said. "We barely got all of the books in place." James had a sinking feeling in his stomach as she said that. But he pushed it aside, deciding to give Yang a chance to explain herself. Then the blonde went into depth. It was worse than he had thought. Much worse. He could have given them credit for the books. But then they started talking about pulley systems and anchors, and a horrible accident waiting to happen entered his mind.

"Might I suggest you, uh, fix that?" he said. "I really don't want to start class only for Weiss to come tearing into the room, saying that something horrible happened to Ruby."

"But I'm the one who sleeps on the top bunk," Ruby says, "and besides, they've held out for months."

"I really hope me giving advice and being ignored isn't going to be a pattern," he said. "Is there anything else about your living conditions that I should be concerned about?" As he spoke, he checked the time on his Pip-Boy. 8:35. It was hard to imagine that not even half an hour had passed since they had set out.

"Um, Mr. Walker?" Ruby asked, glancing at the device. "I've been meaning to ask, what is that?" Blake, Weiss, and Yang all turned their attention to the Pip-Boy. The looks of curiosity and excitement in all of their eyes told James that this was something they had wanted to ask him for a long time.

"Pip-Boy," he said. "Kind of a multi-tool. Map, clock, monitors my vitals, useful stuff like that," he said. "Plays music too. Radio and tape." To emphasize his point, he hit the button on the side and opened the holo-tape slot on the back of the Pip-Boy. The mixtape he had was still in there. "That's one of the better tapes I managed to get my hands on. 128 kilobytes of memory, it wasn't cheap. I'm told some can hold 256, but I doubt I'll ever find someone who will be willing to part with one that good. But hey, I've got a few dozen songs at my beck and call now. Also, I think I got some tapes with a game or do in my rucksack somewhere."

Slapping the case slot shut, James hit the play button. I got spurs, that jingle jangle baby, jingle jangle. He relaxed a bit as the familiar tune played for a few seconds before it turned it off. "Pretty cool huh?" he asked, looking around. The reactions where not what he had been expecting. Weiss was smiling at him politely and looked like her face was about to snap in half from the effort, Blake was doing everything she could to avoid eye contact, Ruby was staring at him in disbelief, and Yang was fighting down a fit of giggles. "What?" he asked, confused.

"Um, oh geez, how to put this," Yang said, choking out the words through giggles. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out what looked like a rectangular computer part and her scroll. "See this stick here? I used it to let Ruby upload some of my favorite songs the other day. It holds 128 gigabytes of memory. I even saw one that held 256 gigabytes, but that was a little too expensive for what I needed. I mean, seventy Lien? I'm not made of money." She pressed a few buttons on her scroll, causing a cheery, upbeat song that James didn't recognize to play. Come at me. And you'll see. I'm more than meets the eye. After a few lines, Yang turned it off. "So, uh, Ozpin gave you a scroll right? You might want to look at it and see exactly what it can do. No offense, but pretty much everything you just mentioned? A scroll can do it better, with the exception of monitoring vitals."

Without a word, James walked to the table where Han and Weiss were sitting, sat down, and looked up at the sky in disbelief. He lamented that it was far too early to go get a drink. Han chuckled again. "Getting old sucks, doesn't it? All the young people have such fancy gadgets that you barely understand. Just be thankful your body doesn't hurt all the time." He glanced over his shoulder in the general direction of Róta. "Speaking of which, the old aches are starting to come on." Róta nodded and produced a lighter and a cigarette for Han. Except on closer inspection, it wasn't a cigarette. It was a joint. "Helps with the old pains," he said as if he could tell James was flabbergasted, lighting it as he spoke. "Don't worry, nothing here will pollute the lungs of your students."

James went back to looking at the sky. "Hey," Yang said softly. "I can show you how to show how to set up your scroll?"

The young lady is helping the old fart with technology. Well, you should've seen this day coming to James he thought to himself. "Sure," he said.

XXXXX

"So, thoughts on the new guy?" Mercury asked, his hands behind his head as he walked. "Seemed like a pretty basic old coot to me, but he was carrying a lot of weapons. What's Ozpin playing at?"

"Let's see what General Ironwood thinks about this," Cinder said, flicking through the scroll in her hands. Her backdoor into Ironwood's systems was still active, and still undetected. It brought her pride to see that, a feeling of power. She was right under Ozpin's nose and idly reading the secure files of one of his most trusted allies. Quite a few files had been added since yesterday, and while most of them were dedicated to the White Fang, there was one that was labeled "Walker." Opening it, she was greeted with a picture of Walker lying in a hospital bed, a large wound in his chest, and a wall of text of the general's notes.

She read them quickly, and a downright preposterous narrative was unfolded before her. "Well well," she said, sounding amused. "It appears Mr. Walker is a dimension hopper. He claims to be from another world where society has collapsed, and he fought against a conquering band of tribes." She scrolled through the rest of Ironwood's notes. "And Ozpin employed him at Beacon after hearing this. And both him and Ironwood seem to be entertaining that what he's saying is true." She noted a large red note at the bottom of the report. "Maintain observations where possible." She chuckled. "Though Ironwood doesn't fully trust him."

"Wait, so they pick up a bag of bones that's obvious cracked in the head and Ozpin gives him a job?" Mercury shrugged. "I was starting to feel like all of this was going too easily, and now it makes sense. Ozpin's lost it. Maybe he used to be someone worthwhile at some point, but at this point, he's just a senile old man who's taking in any lunatic who came his way. Honestly, Walker should be in an asylum."

"As much as I hate to side with the guy who literally couldn't beat a blind man in chess," Emerald said, "but I think Mercury's right. I mean, come on. Another world? My bet is he lost everyone he knew in the attack on Vale and he came up with all of that garbage as a coping mechanism. To distance himself from it all."

"I'm not so certain," Cinder said. "Ozpin and Ironwood are both arrogant, but they're not stupid. Something is rather odd about this Walker fellow. It really does just say like he did just pop up out of nowhere. Keep an eye on him. We might learn something interesting that way. But in the end, he's just another pawn on Ozpin's side of the board. A pawn in the game we're not playing anymore because we've moved onto bigger things. Just make sure he's not a bigger threat than either of them realize."

She exited out of the Walker file. He was an interesting anomaly, one that she did need to keep an eye on, but she had more important things to worry about. She flicked back to her messages, and to the one labeled Adam. No new messages. She frowned. "Adam still hasn't made contact with us," she said. "It's been nearly a whole day since the attack. He's late." A twinge of annoyance flared up in her gut. She had been very clear to Adam when she had swayed the White Fang to her side. She would provide them with supplies and weapons, but they answered to her now. And Adam seemed to need a reminder.

Mercury seemed to read her mind on that one. "Maybe he needs a few more dead henchmen? Then again, it might not make much of a difference to him, considering how many of his wannabe terrorists are now dead in a collapsed tunnel."

"I think Adam needs to personally learn the price of disobedience," Cinder said coldly, a dozen different ideas flipping through her head. "We thought we could teach the White Fang a lesson bottom up. I think it's time to try top down."

"I think I know why he's not responding," Emerald said. Cinder turned and say Emerald on her own scroll, holding it out to Cinder. "Look at this." Cinder took the scroll. It was a news article, one that had an image of a burning village. "White Fang attack village, killing dozens. Many bodies found beheaded and mutilated. Bite marks suggest dogs were set on unarmed villagers." Emerald lowered her scroll. "That's the second attack they've launched after the one on Vale didn't work. I think they're out for revenge."

That made sense. It was the kind of counterproductive and impulsive action a simple mind like Adam would take. "I think we need to pay Adam a visit the next time we get a chance. And maybe this time, we leave a new leader in charge of his little fiefdom."

Mercury perked up at this. "All right, this is more like it. When do we head out?" In so many ways, Mercury was similar to Adam, just with better impulse control. Still, both of them were easy to manipulate

"Not just yet, we have more important things to worry about. There are only three weeks until the Vytal Festival, and it'd draw too much attention for us to go missing now. Adam was only ever a bit player in our plans there, so we'll deal with him after that. In the meantime though, there is something regarding the White Fang I want the two of you to deal with. Tomorrow, I want you to search the city for any dens of White Fang activity, and snuff them out. Let's give him one last chance to remember his place. We may even be able to bring him to us and deal with him ahead of time."

"Can do," Mercury said, cracking his knuckles.

"Anything for you Cinder," Emerald said.

Cinder turned, making a point of doing it slowly, and looked at both of them. "You two are beyond important for what I have planned. Never forget that." Mercury rolled his eyes at this, but Emerald beamed at her, her eyes shining. It was like giving a scrap of food to a starving dog. Instant results for little effort. "In the meantime, focus on the Festival. Enjoy Walker's contributions to class tomorrow, but remember that he's just a sideshow. And that he'll burn with the rest of Ozpin's entourage." Walker would fall for siding with Ozpin, but only because Ozpin was a lost cause, a ship about to sink, dragging everyone on board down with him. In the end, they all only had themselves to blame.

XXXXX

Author's Note: You know, I consider New Vegas to be a lot more interesting than Fallout 3, but part of me wishes I was working with the Lone Wanderer this chapter. Why? Because when the White Fang came up, the Lone Wanderer would be able to bring up a personal experience they had gone through. Two words. Roy. Phillips. That fucking monster. Only "bad karma" kill I did with zero regret in that game. That would be a gold mine to explore with a RWBY and Fallout 3 crossover, because the comparisons between Roy and Adam would be enough for a stand-alone story.

Also I get the feeling that Weiss and Han would both be labeled as beginner level chess players for letting the match drag out to a point where there was barely anything left on the board (gut feeling here, not a chess expert) but that was a necessary evil so I could let the reader know what was going on without having an entire chess match play out. Doing that is ok when you have one person fall into a Fool's Mate, not so much when it's an actual serious match. Without a board in front of you guys, a chess match would be boring as sin to follow play by play.

Also, old man doesn't know how to smart phone.

I would like to thank my Patrons, SuperFeatherYoshi, xXNanamiXx, RaptorusMaximus, Davis Swinney, Mackenzie Buckle, and Josue Garcia for their amazing support.