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Ironspike was every bit the settlement the name implied.

It hugged the outside of the tall, rocky mountains that ranged for more than a few miles between it and Vale. Several large buildings had been built into the mountain, steadily climbing as they needed. Most were crisscrossed by a variety of enclosed walkways, ringed on the outside by chain-mesh, and conveyors running ore and rock to where it needed to go. The buildings were all enclosed by a thin, chain fence a few feet inside of the thin, concrete wall that ringed it all, even spanning up the mountain in uneven-spans of square sections, occasionally topped off by tall, dull iron watchtowers. The concrete wall wasn't thick enough to walk on, though, and instead a metal walkway had been bolted onto its side and onto the rock of the mountain, where blue and black uniformed men and women patrolled with rifles in their hands.

And eyes watching inside as much as out…

The only buildings outside the settlement were a trio of wide, circular platforms with a warehouse in their center, built off to the side of the road he had come in on and ringed by a low, thick concrete wall manned by more guards.

It was dull, dark and miserable…

It all made him anxious. Anxious enough he tugged his hood up and down, snug over his head, and frowned.

"What is this place…?" Cerulean murmured, standing outside of the heavy, steel gate in front of the small landing zone and staring up at the other one, and the factory beyond it.

"A prison." Guiding Light murmured, voice low. Agitated, even. "No wonder Greyback offered so few details… 'Mining settlement' indeed."

"Mhm."

"I would wager the workers are all Faunus." Guiding Light hummed, "Greyback admitted to them not caring about the miners dying. I suppose that the victims being prisoners or Faunus, or both, explains that."

That made a certain dark sort of sense, Cerulean supposed. Guiding Light had said that people hated the Faunus, so that tracked. And prisoners? He was sure plenty wouldn't pay much mind to them, either.

It made him angry…

He used that to give him focus, as the heavy gates off to his side groaned open.

A woman dressed in a finely dressed blue suit, with red stripes along its outer hem and a red tie to match her short, cropped red hair. She carried a clipboard under her arm and wore thin glasses, through which her heard, grey eyes bored into Cerulean's. She was flanked by a pair of the men Cerulean had seen on the walls, each dressed in fitted, padded uniforms with little to tell them apart aside from a serial number on their breasts.

"Hello there, I'm-" Cerulean finally said, stepping forward a step and then freezing as the guards' hands fell to the small, silver sidearms holstered on their hips. Suddenly nervous, he rolled his shoulder, easing the rifle slung over the back of his shoulder into a better position if he needed it, and murmured, "Uh, I don't want any trouble?"

"We shall see." The woman quipped, flicking a look to Cerulean's driver as he stepped forward and offered a little envelope to her. She took it, opened it, and after a moment nodded and slid it into the clasp of her clipboard. "Very well. Stand down."

Without a word, her two guards nodded, their black visors and fully enclosed helmets giving nothing away as they stepped back and to the side.

"Forgive the over-abundance of caution, Mister Cerulean." The woman said, smiling and stepping forward to offer her hand. After a moment's hesitation, and surprise, he took it and gave it a gentle shake. As she stepped back, she explained, "My name is Samantha. Samantha Ironwood. I'm the head of operations, under Warden Alabaster."

"Warden?"

"This… Is a prison settlement." She said, brows knitting in confusion. "Did Mayor Greyback not explain that?"

"No." Cerulean growled, then shook his head. "He didn't, but it doesn't matter. People need help, so I'm here."

"I'd hardly call them 'people', personally." He scowled and she pursed her lips and held up a hand to beg for peace. "But you aren't here to argue politics, I'm sure. If you'll follow me, I'll show you to the Warden."

"I'd rather just get to work." He grunted, "If that's alright."

"I'm sure he won't mind, if you press." She said, "But we're expecting a team from Beacon at some point today. I supposed you would just work with them. Unless you'd prefer to go alone?"

"Beacon?" His brows knit together. Beacon meant Hunters, like he was being. That… Interested him. Enough that he sighed and said, "Fine."

Inside the walls, the grounds were finely curated. Bright grass, well-cut with finely mowed rows, and planters full of trees and flowers surrounding the building and landing pads. There was even a sitting area out front, on a wide stretch of concrete, where several office workers and guards were relaxing in their apparent off time. Some of them paid him curious looks as he passed by them, but he just ignored them.

"All human." Guiding Light offered mutedly, "Not a Faunus among them."

"Hmph." Cerulean growled, but, curious, spoke up to ask as a guard stepped forward to scan an ID card in the electronic lock beside the door, "None of the staff are-"

"Faunus?" The secretary cut him off. "No, of course not. This is a prison after all."

"Oh that elucidates so very much…"

"I…" Cerulean sighed, "Don't see where that tracks?

"We need trustworthy people as guards and staff, or we risk corruption." She sighed, "Thus, Humans."

"Oh because Humans are so incorruptible! Gah!" Guiding Light rambled agitatedly, "I have never once regretted coming somewhere as much as I regret coming here, Guardian."

"If you say so…"

"The Warden has ten years of experience in this field, Sir." She quipped hotly, shooting him a hard look. "And his father, the previous Warden, had forty one prior to his death. In a riot. Staged due to reforms that forced us to have a Faunus who turned out to be a member of the then nascent White Fang."

"Ah…" He grimaced and, even if the issue still seemed… Off, to him, he let it go.

Instead, he turned his attention to the hall they were travelling down.

In spite of the outside's dark, drab concrete walls and wire mesh, inside the building was as different as its outer lawn had been. The halls were wide enough for comfort, and made of warm, dark wood. A thick, blue carpet ran the length of it all, and heavy wooden doors sequestered a half dozen offices as they passed by. Private ones, and the larger ones broken up by several desks pushed into corners for lower staff, both of which he could see through windows that were only partially covered by thin, hanging shutters.

And it was full of people, more than he'd ever seen, packed into the offices and the spaces between like rounds in his rifle.

Finally, they reached a flight of stairs flanked by a pair of guards with rifles and heavy, thick padded vests. One had a red pauldron on his shoulder, and the other had a green one on hers. The latter stepped forward and flicked him a look before turning back to the secretary and coking their head ever so slightly.

"He's been granted access." She said, "Code seven-nine-one, provisional access."

"Hunter?"

"Supposedly." Samantha sighed and flicked a look over her shoulder, eyeing him and then turning back to the guard. "Mayor Greyback vouches for him, though. Supposedly, he dealt with a Webknecht nest on his own."

"Webknecht?" The woman shuddered, "Nasty things… Administrator Alabaster cleared him."

"Thank you." Samantha nodded, turning her head ever so slightly to address him. "Come along, and mind yourself."

"She's absolutely wonderful, you know." Guiding Light hummed quietly as they followed her, "Absolutely nothing dreadful about her at all. Why, I can't imagine why she chose to work in a bloody prison."

He snorted, but didn't comment, instead following the woman up the stairs.

At the top, the stairs let out on an open, shallow landing styled as a waiting room. Its drywall, rather than the dark wood below, had been painted a muted creme. It had a couch backed up against it, with a low table between it and another couch to fill out the space. There was a lamp on the table, and a pair of potted plants to either side of where the stairs came up to, but other than that, it was wholly nondescript.

And very obviously-

"A waiting room?" Guiding Light murmured, "Here? We had to come through the entire building to get to it."

"If you would wait here," Samantha said, turning to him with a smile so put on and faux-polite even Greyback would have winced at it, "the Beacon team will arrive within the hour."

"I thought I was going to speak to the Warden."

"And you will." She nodded, "But Warden Alabaster is a busy man, administrator to an entire complex. Why would he waste time briefing you on the situation, and then briefing them, when you will wait for them regardless?"

He wanted to argue, as much to spite the woman as anything else, but…

What was there even to argue about? She was right. And he wanted to wait and meet these 'Hunters' more than he wanted to spite the aggravating secretary. He needed to learn more about them. Especially if he wanted to act as one.

"Fine." He sighed, "Can I ask for some water, at least?"

"Water, tea, various pops…" She nodded, "Food as well. All on the house, as part and parcel of your job. I'll have a menu brought out to you."

"A menu?!" Guiding Light snapped, chuckling at Cerulean's shoulder. "Is this a restaurant now?"

He sighed, shrugged, and turned to fall onto one of the couches. Samantha only shook her head, put out by something Cerulean couldn't place, and turned for the door. There was a small card-reader on the wall beside it, and she produced one from her clipboard and swiped it, slipping through without paying him any more mind at all.

"I dislike her very much." Guiding Light stated the obvious, once they were alone.

"I guessed."

"I'm sorry, I just…" The Ghost sighed, "I saw a lot of hate back in Sol. Stupid reasons. Gender, sex, skin, your jobs- All so dumb. And here, it's more of the same. So I am somewhat disappointed."

"I understand." He murmured, keeping his voice down enough that he was sure no one could hear him through a door. "But there's not much we can do about it. And, I mean… At least it's just criminals."

"With hatred, it's never 'just' anything, partner." Guiding Light sighed, "Trust me on that."

"Okay." He nodded, "Now what?"

"Now we… Wait, I suppose." The Ghost hummed, "Unfortunate, but be grateful for the chance to relax. Sometimes, in our field of work, such chances are far and few between. And filled with plenty to exhaust even a Guardian."

Cerulean nodded and turned as another woman, short, petite and with red hair and a pencil skirt, pushed through the door and beamed a smile at him.

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Most of an hour, and a burger and some baked potato chunks, later, Cerulean heard the door open and looked up as Samantha stepped through and turned to pay him a nod. He made to stand and she held out a hand to stop him, then waved him back into his seat. Then, without a word, she slipped down the stairs and vanished around the corner.

"Well…"

"That was a thing." Cerulean sighed, turning to boredly stack up his trash on the little plastic tray until, a heartbeat later, the door opened and the woman from earlier came back. She paid him another smile, gathered the rubbish up, and vanished without another word, back through the door. "Huh."

"Really is like a restaurant…" Guiding Light hummed, "Or, as close to one as I've seen, I suppose."

"You've never been in one?"

"The City had plenty, when I left, but…" He chuckled, "They weren't like the Old World's, from what I came to understand. And I had little reason to see them."

"I suppose you wouldn't." Cerulean hummed, "And you were busy enough anyways."

"That is true, yes." Guiding Light admitted wryly, "I was too busy in my travels. And as much as I may have wished to stay in the City, from one year to the next, I… Could never have given up all of that."

"Why not?"

"Could you give up fighting to protect people, Guardian?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"It's…" Cerulean pursed his lips in thought, for a long moment, and then sighed. "I don't know. It's what I am, I guess. Literally- I'm a Guardian."

"And I'm a… Seeker, I suppose." The Ghost said, "Ancient, lost knowledge and ideas, when I can. Interesting places. People in need of help, though, always came first. Ah, and a seeker of you, as well, of course."

"Of course." He chuckled, "And I, for one, am glad you found me."

"Because of the adventure?" The Ghost asked, "Or because of the 'being alive again' bit?"

"Yes."

"That isn't a very specific- Motion on the stairs."

The warning was delivered in a quiet, but completely calm, voice as the Ghost went still. Cerulean stood, straightening his clothes and loose armor and tugging his hood up. As he slung his rifle over his shoulder, a gruff, agitated voice reached him.

"-lucky Vale needs the metal here movin', or none of us would be anywhere near your little hell hole."

"So long as you perform."

"Oh, darling, I can promise that much." The man said as he rounded the corner and looked up the stairs at him. Cerulean looked down on him and nodded in a curt greeting that the man repaid. "Branwen. Qrow Branwen."

"Cerulean."

"Jus' Cerulean?"

"Just Cerulean." He nodded, turning away and moving to stand by the door that lead further in. The man joined him a moment later, flanked on one side by Samantha and an agitated looking brunette and on the other by a man. He cocked his head, "Beacon team?"

"They are, sure."

"Coco Adel." The woman snapped, reaching up to tap a couple fingers on one hand to her beret in a mock salute. Then she cocked a hip towards the other men and added, "Short on is Fox Alistair. Tall one with the sword iis Yatsuhashi Daichi. Boys, say hi."

"Hello."

"Good evening."

"Is it already?" He echoed Guiding Light when he said it, and then added, "Though I guess it won't matter when we get down into the mine…"

"Please, don't remind me we're going down there." Adel scoffed, crossing her arms and turning to fall onto a couch cushion. "Bad enough we're working for these fuc-"

"Coco."

"Yeah, Yats, I get it." Coco sighed, "I'm gonna take a few here, get my head straight."

"She going to be alright?"

"I'll be fine, old man." Adel snapped, "Just… Don't like goin' underground, that's all. So mind your business."

"Fine, fine, stay here, get your head on right, whatever. But you'll miss the brief." Branwen warned, slouching and shoving his hands in his pockets when she just scoffed and rolled her eyes. Turning to the door, he sighed, "Yeah, whatever, your problem. Come on, lil' miss secretary. Let's get this over with."

"Very well." She sighed, slipping through the group and laying her hand on the door-handle. "Follow me, and stay close. This area is… Very secure, and very much not meant for any of you to just meander about."

"Fine." Qrow grunted, "Kiddos'll behave. Yeah?"

"Yep."

"Am I a 'kiddo'?"

"I'm going to stay with Coco." The big man grunted, turning to move over and take a seat beside her. "And yes, I will behave."

"Fine, brats, you can both stay." Branwen rolled his eyes and turned to Cerulean, "And yeah, you're a kiddo too, runt. Hell, lil' miss secretary is too, compared to me."

"I will have you know I am-"

"Every day out in the shit is worth a year in here." Qrow cut her off, holding up a hand and waving for her to go on. "Now let's get this done with. Work to do."

She sighed and pushed the door open, stepping in as they trailed along behind her.

Through the door was a wider hallway, flanked on either side by heavy wooden doors reinforced by iron bars and embossed with brass handles and hinges. Each had a silent, red-pauldroned man or woman to one side of it, and a pin pad to the other. Like downstairs the hallway was richly decorated, but this time, with trophies as well as the rest. Many-antlered deers, hounds, a scaled lizard head twice the size of Cerluean's head, and even Grimm. Lupine Grimm heads, boars, and a bear, lined in a long section of the wall as they passed by.

Trophies of a hunter…

And, finally at the end of the hall, a heavy set of double doors with silver and gold inlays of leaves and animals. Beside it, ensconced into the wall in a glass box of sorts, was a long rifle very similar to Cerulean's own. Finger-length bullets had been inserted into the velvety backing to either side of the weapon, and he eyed them curiously.

"Steel-tipped…" He murmured, "Narrow, pointed tip, broad base to the round."

"Yeal, real hole-puncher that one." Qrow grunted, waving at the door's pinpad. "Assumin' this one needs your magic touch too, miss secretary."

"And I wondered why my cousin spoke so lowly of you freelance Hunters." She sighed wearily, leaning over to let her fingers flit along the pad quickly. Too quickly for Cerulean to catch the code, easily. It buzzed and she reached for the handle, "Now let's get this over with."

"Yeah." The old man grunted, fishing out a little silver flask. "Let's."

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Dino Guy :

Yeah… Whispers. Lol. .

Rakkis :

If you're clever, based on who is here, certain events being referenced, and who is NOT here… You can guess exactly when we are.

Fireteam Maker (Guest) :

As of now, I have no plans for other Guardians.

Jaws on You :

'Vikingr' doesn't sound bad for an overall style. But final designs are up in the air.