"Holy shit..." Paul murmured as he set his kit down in front of the main door. He looked around and whistled, stating, "This is better than whatever we got in KFOR. Fuck me, man, it's better than what we got anywhere...!" as he walked into the house. Vic snorted while Blake and Yang both seemed dumbfound at the fact that Victor had, in fact, gotten one of Beacon's many staff housing areas.
"Well, that's what Ozpin gave me when I decided to play merc for him," Victor offered, setting his weapon aside again. He motioned to Blake and Yang to come in, before taking his kit off, setting it by the door and going for the fridge. He pulled it open, grabbed a beer from within and tossed it to Paul, who barely caught it mid-flight, before popping it open on the barrel of his LMG.
"Nice digs..." Yang smirked as she looked around, "A little barren. You fellas gonna need an interior decorator."
"I think we'll be fine for now, Yang, thanks." Victor replied as he leaned against the counter. Paul was grinning ear-to-ear as he looked around, like a kid in a candy store. That had gotten a slight blush out of Blake, one which both Yang and Vic had noticed, both of them snorting in-unison at the girl as she looked at the Hungarian man. Paul, none the wiser to Blake's staring, walked up to Vic and patted him on the shoulder, grin withstanding.
"Man, this is one hell of an upgrade..." He chuckled.
"Yep," Yang smirked, then hummed and grabbed Blake, stating, "Well, we'll be outta your hairs, boys. Figure you wanna catch up and all, considering..." and pausing for Blake to get the hint. Victor nodded to them as they walked out while waving goodbye, then sighed and shook his head. Paul looked at his friend, crossing his arms to his chest and leaning against the counter as well, holding his beer.
"I-" Paul started, but Vic cut him off.
"I didn't get to answer the last three messages you left... Sorry for dropping off like that, but I figured you'd be getting reports from the UN and... I didn't want to confront the truth for a while," Vic stated, staring at the marble tiles on the floor of the kitchen. He sighed, then looked up at Paul, adding, "And then we got to Ichkeria and, yeah, shit got heavy over there. Lost a bunch of our boys..."
"Did you find her...?" Paul asked with half a mouth, probably wanting to get it out of the way, but seemingly aware of it. Vic's shoulder's visibly sagged. He frowned and looked away, nodding. Paul didn't need more than that to understand that shit had gone tits-up in the worst way possible. Sighing deeply, the Hungarian murmured to himself, "Fuck..." before putting a hand on Victor's shoulder, "I'm sorry, man..."
Vic shook his head, "It's not your fault... It's really nobody's but mine. Because I was blind as a fucking bat to her for the better part of our stay in Kosovo... And even when I realized the feelings were mutual, we went our separate ways before I could say anything to her." And he planted a palm on his face, whispering to nobody in particular, "Three fucking years..."
"I getcha, man," Paul sighed and sipped from his beer, "I'm really sorry..."
Vic nodded, "The worst part is it wasn't even a normal grave, a nice burial, like she deserved..." And his voice grew low, fury bubbling behind every word, "It was a fucking mass grave. Those Chechen shitheads up and buried them in a Mass fucking Grave, all of them..." And that seemed to surprise Paul. Before his own face grew grim, anger filling his veins. He took three swigs from the beer, then set the bottle aside.
"I know... I'm really sorry, Vic..." The Hungarian said, "Fuck me, I and my team should've come looking for all of you sooner..."
Vic shook his head, "I'd ask how you know, but... Not right now... You went through basic all over again, dude," and he looked to his old friend, "Couldn't ask ya to haul ass all the way over to Russia when UNRUS formed. Especially considering that shitboot PM of yours really up and decided to keep hoping the dick he sucked was gonna be there again once Russia got out of whatever rut he thought it was in."
"Yeah, fuck him..." The Hungarian sighed and shook his head. He sighed, then stated, "Anyways, man... I'm really glad to see you here, even if I guess we can consider it a sort of Afterlife, eh?" And he smirked. Vic hummed, sighed then nodded, smiling too, though a bit less enthusiastic than his comrade. Paul then added, "Hey... Chin up, Vic. If we're here, there's a chance Vesna came by, too..."
"Nah..." Vic sighed, dejected, "If that girl's anywhere? She's in heaven."
Paul hummed at that. Vic had said three years, three years and a half. Even then, it hadn't passed. He and most of the lads knew he had a thing for Vesna, a thing that was a little more than just a puppy love or two young twenty-somethings seeing each-other in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere. Their teams had cooperated, bonded and found themselves quite alike. So, yes, Paul got it.
Vic hummed, then looked to Paul and asked, "Wait a fuck, how did you get here, man?"
Paul snorted, scratching his right cheek, then said, "Shortest summary I can give you is that I and the Company my platoon was part of were investigating the city of Omsk, looking for reports of something called the 'Black League'... This was about half a year after you went dark on us," He then stated upon seeing Vic's confusion. The man hummed and shrugged, "Lots of Hard-Right and Pro-Putin factions have been going missing in the area... Your Chechen 'friends' included. Then, we heard of someone calling themselves the Black league."
"... How'd you die, then? Ambush?" Vic wondered. Paul shook his head.
"Building we were in was rigged to blow. So were several other city blocks... Place must've gone up like a fucking nuclear blast, honestly," The Hungarian explained, unclipping his gear and tossing it next to Vic's. "We were with the survivors of Vesna's unit... Believe it or not, Ayesha and Lita were there as well..." He spoke calmly, checking his wristwatch and taking his beer, all while a now-stunned Vic stared at him. He nodded and said, "They wanted to pay the League and those Chechens back for you and Vesna's deaths... It's actually how I found out you passed."
"Huh..." Vic blinked, then sighed, "Well, yeah, they were shadowing us. I remember seeing them, but... I never gathered up any sorta guts to go talk to them. God only knows, they might've had some choice words for me for not hurrying along..."
Paul shook his head, "No. I don't think I've ever seen either act as sorry as they did when they told me about you and Vesna dying... Seriously, Lita was damn near in tears. And you know how our hardass Captain Price Larper can be," and he pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, as well as matches. Lighting the match, then the cig, he took a deep drag from it, blew the smoke off to the side and sighed.
Vic hummed, then rubbed his face at that, shaking his head. "Damn... Guess they have one extra reason to be pissed off at the League and whatever other crazy fucking faction there is," He spoke softly, pulling a soda for himself out of the fridge and popping it open. He took a sip from the drink, looked around and offered, "Pick a place for yourself, Paul. I've got the top right."
"Gotcha. Thanks," Paul spoke, then sighed and said, "Presume you're turning in for the night, dude?"
"Probably, yeah," The Romanian replied, sipping from his bottle of soda. The Hungarian nodded, gave him a wave and walked up toward the top-left dorm, climbing the stairs and entering it. Finding his room, Paul decided to just sit himself down, leaned against the door, letting out a heavy sigh. He looked at the beer in his hands. Setting it aside, he leaned his head back...
... And smiled softly. He whispered to himself, but more-so directed at Victor, "Good thing you're alive, you shithead... Even if it's a whole new world."
Early morning had hit the two like a fucking brick to the face. While Paul looked somewhat marginally more rested than Victor, even he had that same stare as the overly-tired young Romanian had, in fact, not slept at all. Paul had barely gotten a wink of sleep himself, but at least he'd gotten a wink of it in this clusterfuck of a night. Paul saw Vic at the counter of the place, already pouring himself freshly-brewed coffee.
The Romanian didn't even need to look to acknowledge him. Pulling out a second mug, he asked, "Milk or nah?"
"Nah..." Paul replied, rubbing his eyes. The Romanian poured him a mug and handed it to him, to which the Hungarian said, "Kösz, man..." and started drinking it. He shook his head as the bitter taste kicked him awake, then looked to Vic and asked, "Not able to sleep all that well either, eh...?" getting a shake of the head from the Romanian. He sighed and nodded understandingly.
"Nightmares," Vic shot back, sipping his coffee. He had arranged his gear for ease of access next to the door. "I also got a message from Ozpin earlier. Courtesy of Blake and Yang, you're already instated as a member of Security." He told his friend as he set aside a plate of pastry for them to eat with the coffee. "Same paycheck as me and all, so welcome to Merc Work."
"Strength and Muscle and Jungle Work..." Paul smirked. Vic grinned and raised his fist, which Paul bumped with his own as the two drank their coffee. Before long, the two burly, hardened men of the UNRUS task force donned their equipment, grabbed their guns and walked out to Vic's usual patrol spots. That included the classrooms, much to the chagrin of certain members of Beacon.
Two heavily-armed men carrying box-fed light machine guns and clad in balaclavas and heavy armor were probably a sight to behold for the average citizen, the extra belts and boxes for their LMGs clinking, attached to their belts or in their patrol rucks. The two men patrolled, gazing at the students. Each averted their gaze, sans for one familiar face Victor had seen before.
"Yo! Vic!" Nora Valkyrie jumped, smiling, "Good to see ya! Blake and Yang told us ya got a new friend!"
"Hey, Nora," Vic nodded, then pointed toward Paul and said, "This is Paul Nemeth. One of my best friends from the earliest days of my military career."
"Yo," Paul raised a hand in greeting.
Nora grinned, "Nice to meet'cha, Paul! Lotta old vernacular names around your friends, eh, Vic?"
"Sure seems like it," Shrugged the Romanian Corporal, his MG shifting with the motion. Nora's grin widened as the rest of team JNPR walked up to them, Jaune and Pyrrha waving at the two well-armed men. Victor greeted them calmly, "Pyrrha, Jaune, Ren. Good to see all three of you here as well. Thought I might have to learn who Nora really is on her own."
"Good to see you, too, corporal Toma," Ren noted, smiling, "And don't worry. We rarely let Nora out of our sight. And good to meet your comrade as well."
"Paul, this is team JNPR. They're First Years, like Blake and Yang," He offered, fiddling with one of the straps on his vest. Paul nodded to all of them and greeted them, all while team RWBY watched the exchange. Ruby was giddy at the sight of a new set of weapons to look over if she was allowed to, while Weiss was just dumbfound that another soldier just up-and-dropped from the sky.
Yang, meanwhile, was grinning ear-to-ear as she watched Blake casually staring at Paul and playing with her hair. It was the first time Yang had ever seen Blake like this in all the months she's known the girl since the start of their school life together. She chuckled, patted her combat partner on the back and whispered, "Likin' what ya see, I'm imagining, eh, Blakey?" which got a slight, embarrassed yelp out of Blake.
"Yang..." Blake growled at her partner once she figured herself out. Yang smirked proudly, while Blake fumed for a moment. She sighed, thought and grinned, too. Yang Xiao-Long wouldn't be the only one who got to send a jab in. Blake herself inquired, "I don't know, Yang, how's Victor looking from here?" and that got a blush out of the Blonde. Blake's counterattack had seemingly worked in getting the now-embarrassed blonde off her case.
"What are you two talking about?" Weiss inquired, causing both the blonde and the black-haired girl to stop, their faces glowing red. The white-haired Heiress blinked, facepalmed and said, "Forget I asked..." as she turned to face Victor and Paul. The two men walked up to them and she greeted, "Hello, corporal Toma. And Nemeth. I have to say, it's strange to see another soldier so soon."
"Agreed with you, Weiss," Vic replied, "But I'm not complaining. I got one of my buddies with me now, so there's that."
"And we're happy to hear that another soldier joins our guards," Weiss nodded to Paul, "Interesting outfit. What country are you from?"
"Technically, Hungary, so a neighbor to Victor's country, but I moved to France because our government refused to send in troops to assist in the operation I assume he told you all about as well..." Paul explained, which caused a bit of a stir among the kids. Well, save for Ruby, who was casually freaking out over the guy's guns, bouncing from left to right and around him as she looked over every detail of his kit. He blinked, then asked Vic, "Is she alright...?"
"She loves guns from what I can tell," Vic remarked, "So more and more new kit popping in's probably a dream of hers."
"Accurate assessment there, Vic," Yang smirked. He nodded to the blonde, who blushed now and looked away. Despite that, only Paul, Weiss and Blake seemed to have picked up on it, with Vic none the wiser as he tracked Ruby's mad dashes around Paul during her examination of his equipment. Paul smirked behind his balaclava and looked at Victor, shifting the position of the M249's strap to something more comfortable.
"Still as dense as a fucking brick wall, eh, buddy?" He murmured to himself, smiling.
"Didja say somethin', dude?" Vic asked, looking over to him. Paul simply shook his head, all the while not noticing that Blake's rather familiar combat partner was also giving him the eyes. Sure, she was grinning at Yang 'till a moment ago, but there she was, staring at him. He didn't know why and chose to not ask, looking instead to see Weiss staring at both of them with arms crossed.
Weiss Schnee, Heiress of the Schnee Dust Company, had wound up with the most mismatched team of teenage girls in the world. She murmured something to herself about 'dolts' and her team being just filled with them as she watched Ruby casually stop in front of Paul, asking several questions about his and Victor's weaponry. She planted a palm on her own face, rubbing her temples as she murmured annoyedly, "Unbelievable... Hormonal teenagers and a gun nut... What a team..." barely audible enough to herself. She caught Blake, however, casting a glance toward her, a fiery blush on the black-haired mysterious girl's cheeks.
Weiss hummed at that, then sighed and shrugged, "C'mon, you dolts, we'll be late for class and we're keeping the gentlemen from their work..." before she grabbed Ruby by the wrist and urged her teammates and friends over. She waved to Paul and Vic and said, "Farewell, gentlemen. We'll see each-other after class, I'm certain... Perhaps you can help us with an issue we have to deal with in Vale!" then pushed the gang into class and leaving the two boys surprised as they continued their patrol.
Nora giggled, looking to Blake and Yang and asking, "D'you two have crushes?"
Both the blonde and black-haired one blinked before their faces turned the color of Ruby's cape. Nora grinned and was about to add onto the stress, before Ren bopped her gently over the noggin and stated, "Nora, maybe do not," as calmly as he could. He looked to Yang and Blake, before stating rather bluntly himself, "Yet she may be right, considering the way you two are..."
"Can we not have this conversation here, please?" Weiss requested, more for her own good than her teammates' "I don't want to know the preferences of my teammates just yet." And right she was. Both Blake and Yang sighed in relief, while Pyrrha and Jaune chuckled and Ruby just stared, a bit dumbfound, at her teammates and the friends she's made so far here. She had also not really caught the start of this discussion, so she was a bit in the dark. But it probably didn't matter that much, since classes were starting.
Later on, in Vale...
Victor and Paul had, in fact, been asked to solve 'the issues' Teams RWBY and JNPR had in Vale. Which was, to say, that they'd forgotten some of the stuff they needed to buy from various grocery stores and markets last time. That and Yang needed a bit more liquid dust for some experiment she was making for one of the classes. Fire Dust, of course, because why not...?
Paul hummed, still thinking about what he had seem from Yang as they walked through the town, weapons stowed as not to cause a panic. Luckily for them, it seemed armed individuals were pretty goddamn common, considering Huntsmen and Huntresses existed, so nobody really paid them any mind, sans for the kid that stared at them with a little awe behind his or her eyes.
He looked to Victor and asked, "Man, did you notice how Yang was looking at you?"
Victor paused, stopped in the middle of the road and gave his friend one of the most incredulous looks in the world. Paul blinked and smirked, "Dense as a tungsten rod, as usual, Jesus Christ..." and he shook his head as he walked on. Vic shook his head, already not wanting to process his friend's antics, though acutely aware of how a certain black-haired gal stared at him.
"What about you and Blake, huh?" He quipped back, which caused Paul to stop this time. He chuckled and said, "That's literally you and any woman."
"You're one to fucking talk," Paul chuckled as they continued their trek for the groceries.
"Oh, fucking please, how many women were after my tail back in Kosovo, then? Sans Vesna, none," Victor shot back as they walked past one shop, then another. They entered a third shop, with Vic commenting, "I'm not as good-looking or as likely to get chicks as you, man. I mean, look at your sorry ass, even with scars, you look halfway decent enough to score with someone like Blake."
"She's a Teen, though. And we're in our twenties. Even if she was into me, I ain't into that kinda shit." Paul shot back, "I'll admit, she's cute, but..." He hesitated, then sighed, "Not the one. We just met." He then took out an energy bar, pulled up his balaclava and started eating it as they marched. He wasn't in the mood for teens to be simping after him. He had another girl he wanted, though even she was problematic.
"Fair enough," Vic shrugged as they walked on through the place, "I getcha..."
And he did. Vesna remained his one and only. He couldn't ever look at another woman. For now, at least. God only knew how long it'd take for the pain he felt in his chest to pass. If it did ever pass, truly, he thought as he pulled his canteen out and took a sip from it through his balaclava. Weirdly enough, the mask worked pretty well as a filter of a sort. Then again, he would always have to clean it after.
The two men continued their march until the sound of suppressed gunshots filled the air, a quiet clink of bolts and snapping bullets. Despite that, the Civilians seemed unperturbed, while the two men charged forward, LMGs at the ready, directly to the sound of the fighting. Both took cover behind anything they could find, be it a car or the wall of a building, before looking toward the shooting sounds. The middle of a Plaza was where the shots had come from.
Paul leaned over and scoped in the targets through the Trijicon ACOG on his Minimi, noting that both were clad in United States military equipment. US ACU/OCP uniforms, a mix of colors meant for both desert and less-desert areas, stood there. Both men held their rifles raised, pointed toward individuals clad in white jackets, black hoods and masks, with the red marks of panther heads on top of triple claw marks on their backs. Both men also carried the SIG XM5 assault rifles designed for the Next Generation Squad Weapon, the same weapons that won the contest. They also had the Vortex aimbot scopes on them, as some units jokingly referred to the new, highly-advanced sights.
One of the two, however, wasn't wearing your run-of-the-mill ACH helmets. He seemed to be wearing a rather famous new design, a program that had been on the backburner for several years before the entire mess in Ukraine brought it and other rearmament programs up. The Integrated Visual Augmentation System, or IVAS, was a US program attempting to create and standardize a HUD-enabled pair of armored goggles specifically made with Augmented Reality in mind, an item which would merge everything from NVGs to com systems into one neat, head-worn package.
And there one of the Prototypes was. Vic blinked, shouldering his LMG, before he and Paul nodded to each-other and advanced up to the men in question, LMGs raised. One of the two noticed them coming and his face lit up. He slapped the guy with the IVAS on the back and said, "Hass! Check it out!" before turning to aim at the White Fang bastards that surrounded them.
The IVAS wearer turned back, lowered his rifle and murmured, "Holy fuck..."
The two LMG-carrying men clambered up and were about to greet the two US Army Rangers, before Vic paused, recognizing... "... Jim? Hassan?" and stunning the French-Hungarian man.
"Vic!" Hassan smirked behind the helmet, "Who's the Fro-" and he paused as Paul lifted his balaclava, "God damn... Paul! The fuck are you doing in the Frog Outfit, brother?!"
"Eyy!" Paul grinned, "If it isn't our favorite Malaysian-American and American American! Long-ass story on the Frog Kit."
Jim snorted, then said, "Good to see you guys! Especially after UNRUS!"
"Feeling's fucking mutual, fellas," Vic smiled, then patted Hass and Jim on the shoulder and joined them, lifting his LMG up to his hip, "These retards bothering you?" and then noticing the trio of corpses on the floor. Hassan lifted his rifle as well, while Paul switched over to his FAMAS, thumbing the weapon's safety off. He scoped in the lead target and nodded to the boys. They'd set up a perfect, over-arching line of fire against possible hostiles. Paul could also instantly switch over and aim back if needed, incase hostile contacts came in.
However, luckily for them, the sound of Police Sirens filled the air and the White Fang members scrambled, allowing the boys to lower their weapons and look to one-another. Vic, Paul, Hassan and Jim all bumped fists, before slinging their weapons on their back and taking their helmets and masks off. Indeed, the young men had not changed very much from Kosovo. They were still the same crazy fucking bunch, it looked like.
Paul smirked, then raised his fist to the sky and called out, "STRENGTH AND MUSCLE AND JUNGLE WORK!"
"STRENGTH AND MUSCLE AND JUNGLE WORK!" replied the three others, before all four of them burst into laughter, hugging like long-lost brothers in arms.
... More friends came. Maybe Paul was right.
Maybe Vesna could've been around...
Maybe...