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He spent the night - and half of the last of his Lien - on a nice hotel room, with a warm, soft bed and a solid breakfast of eggs and sausage delivered to his room. He even had a little kitchenette, with a counter and stool to sit at to eat. Or, for most of the night, to get used to his Scroll while he rested. Guiding Light's powers kept his body fresh and rested, well enough, if he used it, but…
Nothing beat just sitting down and relaxing the old fashioned way.
While he did that and, later, slept, Guiding Light worked on through to morning, repairing his rifle with some scraps he'd bought on the way to the hotel. Then he set to work on his armor and clothes, reinforcing them and improving them as best he was able to without changing their look. He extended the power life of the batteries, toughened the cloths, layered Light over its outside in a 'Barrier' and hardened the metal to heights beyond its natural, unimbued, state.
And Cerulean enjoyed his breakfast.
"All done, Partner!" His Ghost chirped finally, just an hour before noon. Cerulean stood and came over to the bed, leaning down to pick up his rifle and smiling.
"Looks good." He murmured, ejecting the magazine and sliding it back in experimentally, and then tugging at the barrel to check its fit. "Feels good, too."
"I'm happy to hear it!" His Ghost chirped brightly, floating over to one of the pillows and lifting it in a bubble of light. He laid it on the end of the bed and eased down onto it, Light blinking as the television flickered on. "We can head out soon, if you like. I'd enjoy a spot of relaxation, though, after all the work."
"Of course." He nodded, fishing out his Scroll when it chimed quietly and taking a spot at the head of the bed.
"A message?"
"Mhm." He nodded, reading it aloud for him, "Branwen. Just introducing himself, or, well, his number, and thanking us again for our work."
"Politte fellow." Guiding Light chuckled, "Surprisingly so, as… Rough as he is, otherwise."
"Mhm." He nodded, typing out a quick, 'Got the number - no problem.'
'Happy to hear it.' The man said, his little bird avatar lighting up as he typed. 'Nice avatar btw.'
His 'avatar' was a simple one - a picture of a black shield with red letters spelling out 'Hunter' across them. It was a generic one he'd found in the settings, built right onto the Scroll itself. Shrugging, he sent, 'It works.'
'K.' Branwen sent back, 'Old man has work for you.'
'Who?'
'Ozpin. My boss?' He answered, 'Nothin big. Escort op.'
'For?'
'First year team.' He answered, 'Grimm acting up. So firsties are getting sent out on the lighter jobs.'
'Like the mine?'
'*allegedly lighter jobs.' Branwen edited the message, 'Mine was an anomaly. Not norm. Job'd just be you watchin' a team clear out a small pack. Beowolves. Already scouted, confirmed.'
'Mine was too.'
'By Hunters.' He sent back, 'On their way to fight a group of Ursai, further East. Beo pack too small to hit village. Left it for firsties. Second years get tougher missions, less figured out. To get them ready for rl work. So profs go expectin' a fight. This should just be watching though, unless they fuck up.'
'Ok.' He sent, unsure of what else to say, 'If I say no?'
'Team will have to wait until a prof is free.' He answered frankly, 'Might be a while. Grimm might get worse too.'
"Interesting conversation?"
"Qrow has work." He explained quietly, "First years going out on missions. They don't have enough staff for all the teams, so he's hoping I could fill in. He doesn't have anyone lined up for it, though, so if I say no, the Grimm will stay until a team comes back and their professor can take them out."
"When they can?" Guiding Light asked, "Or if?"
"Didn't say."
"Hmmm…" In an odd, almost sudden, segue, Guiding Light said, "The Vytal Festival is coming up. Have you heard of it?"
"No."
"Apparently, it's to commemorate a war treaty, or more specifically, it's to celebrate the end of a war decades ago." Guiding Light explained, while Cerulean watched the program with him. It was a simple one, talking about the tournament's layout for the year and Amity's Dust consumption for it. "Amity Colosseum is a floating sort of fortress, which travels from Kingdom to Kingdom. With it comes a proper festival - lights, parties, stands and companies who exist solely for the Festival."
"That's sustainable?"
"Evidently." He said, chuckling quietly, "I suppose these industries are rather vital to the endeavour, so it is likely that the Kingdoms may be subsidising them. It would be more efficient to, and engender appreciation from the populaces when these amenities so easily appear to cater to the Festival. I shall look into it through your Scroll, later, if you do not mind over much."
"Sure." He shrugged, "You're really that interested in stuff?"
"Oh, yes, I find it all quite fascinating on cultural, economical and governmental fronts. I am, first and foremost, quite interested in these things, if you recall." Guiding Light hummed, "But I was working towards a point."
"Which is?"
"They likely have entire weeks less to handle what their respective Academies are needed to handle, in terms of Grimm purging, due to the Festival." He explained, lifting up and turning to face him. "Which is likely why Branwen, who is not listed online as a Beacon professor, and you, who is certainly not, are being contracted for this work."
"They're rushing."
"Mhm." Guiding Light hummed, turning to watch the weather report and going on. "I would suggest we help. It is likely we will be needed there, and besides, what else were we going to do? Wander the woods looking for our next big break?"
"Well…"
"Oh, Light, that was your plan, wasn't it?"
"I mean, it worked before?"
"Fair enough, I suppose." His Ghost chuckled, "But this could, in our small part, help us on the road to helping as many people as possible."
"Is the Festival so important?"
"Oh, yes." Guiding Light hummed, "You weren't watching - the Festival tends to coincide with dips in Grimm activity due to everyone generally being a bit happier. I'm sure the more hard security that comes with the Colosseum helps, but that, too, is part of the Festival. By protecting and serving its, we help the entire population of Vale. So-"
"Alright, alright." He chuckled, "I'll take the job."
"Oh." Guiding Light chuckled, "I see. Do forgive me, I can be… A bit long-winded."
"Especially for someone without lungs."
"Oh, you think you're funny now?" is Ghost hummed, "Well, I'll remember that next time you need me to help you start your evening fire, I tell you what!"
He rolled his eyes and opened his messenger again, shooting Qrow a quick, 'We'll take the job.'
'K.' He sent back less than a minute later, 'Meet at the docks from before in the morning. Team will be waiting. Flight will be paid for, and you'll get your Lien when you fly back to Beacon. Good?'
'Yes.' He nodded, 'All good.'
'K. Take care out there.'
"So?"
"We leave in the morning." Cerulean sighed, leaning back against the pillows, "I can afford another night, so…"
"A proper day off?" His Ghost filled in easily, "Sounds positively wonderful. I've never had a day off before."
"And I was born last week." Cerulean smiled, "So, a first for me, too."
"How wonderful!" His Ghost sighed, settling back in on the pillow. "May I borrow your Scroll? I'm going to do more directed research. On the Grimm, perhaps. Knowing what we come up against could be quite useful, out there."
"Sure." He nodded, standing and shouldering his rifle. "I'll pay for another night, and head out."
"Oh?" He hummed, "To where?"
"Nowhere particular." He shrugged. "Just to walk. Maybe to the library at the end of the block, to read up on Hunters."
"You know, it's normally frowned upon, for Ghosts and Guardians to separate…"
"Ah." He paused, "Should I not, then?"
"It's fine, I suppose." He hummed, "The city is hardly a combat zone. Just stay safe and careful. And, if you need me, let your Light barrier fall, and I'll sense it and come to you. Even if you die, I'll raise you as soon as I can."
"Ah." He nodded, "Alright. See you in a bit."
"Mhm."
With that, he slipped out into the hall and pulled the door shut behind him.
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The library was a tall, dark brick building set at a corner down the street from him, with an entrance on every street-facing side and another in the wide, open-air sitting area outside it, between the library and a department store. Inside, it was rows and rows of books, with private rooms lining the back walls, stairs scattered about wherever they could be fit in, and reading nooks tucked into corners made up by the shelves themselves. A semi-circle of desks, computers and rolling carts were manned by a handful of librarians, milling about as they needed to, but otherwise the library was…
Oddly empty, and eerily quiet.
"Hello!" An older woman sitting at the desk chirped tiredly, but warmly, as he approached. "How can I help you?"
"I'm a Hunter." He answered simply, unsurely, "I'm, uh, looking for books on it?"
"Are you a student?"
"No." He answered, fishing out the license Qrow had gotten him and showing it to her. "See? I just, um, don't know a lot and wanted to learn."
"Oh!" She nodded, suddenly understanding, "You're a frontiersman! Right, right, well, if you head up to the third floor, you'll find plenty on the Grimm of course, as well as all manner of weapons, engineering, survivalism and Hunter's History. You can read them as you like, and place them on the Return Trolleys you'll see throughout. You can also use the computer's there, you just need to log in with the ID number on your papers."
"Ah." He nodded, "Thanks."
"Oh, no!" she beamed, "Thank you for protecting all of us, Sir!"
He flushed, unsure of how to respond, and simply nodded and turned away.
Up the stairs, he found another organized library floor, much like the others, but this time with more overtly interesting aisles. He left 'Grimm Breeds' and 'Grimm Anatomy' alone for now, though, leaving that to Guiding Light's research. Instead, he turned into an aisle labelled 'History of Hunter Tactics' and perused the shelves. It took a while - mostly, he wasn't sure where to start - but eventually he found one labelled 'the Tactics of Faunus Hunters at Fort Castle' that seemed like it would be useful.
At least, it seemed more applicable than 'A Guide to Sleuthing For Hunters' which was more about policing and 'A Guide to Packing Well'.
Finding an empty table nearby, he took a seat and got to work reading. He didn't even get past page one before he had to get up again, searching for 'The Faunus Wars and their Battles' which was listed as a 'needed prerequisite'. Even then, it was more complicated than he'd expected - a mess of history that went back twenty years beforehand which was covered in a third book. He was just about to get up to find it when a man sauntered by, saw is books and snorted.
"Stuck on some of Oobleck's shit homework?"
"I'm sorry?" He turned, flicking a look at the large man who'd stopped behind him. "Who are you talking about?"
"Professor Oobleck?" The burly man grunted, then chuckled when he only cocked his head to the side. "Why else would you be readin' this shit?"
"I want to learn." He shrugged, turning and picking up the book, thumbing through page to a layout of a battlefield and turning so the other man could see it. Trailing his finger along the treeline, where numerous claw-icons had been lined up, he said, "See? Ambush tactics - to divert the supply corps coming up behind the Mistrali forces. This allowed them to capture a superior army's supply and-"
"Yeah, I got the spiel from the prof last week." The man waved him off, "What, you're studying tactics? Hopin' to get into Beacon?"
He shook his head and closed the book, humming as he said, "No. I just want to learn some tactics, see what I can work into my own style for Hunts."
"Thought you said you weren't headin' for Beacon?"
"I'm not." He said, picking up his helmet and sliding it back on as he collected his books - hopefully, he could borrow them and return them later, after a more thorough reading. "I have my license already. This is just self-improvement."
"Huh. No kidding?"
"No." He hesitated and turned, offering the man his hand, "Cerulean."
"Winchester. Cardin Winchester." The man grunted, eyeing his armor and whistling. "Cardin Winchester. And damn, just noticing but you're kitted out."
"Thanks." He nodded, stacking his two books neatly and shouldering his rifle again. "It's new. Got back the other day, spent my bounty setting myself up."
"Yeah?" Winchester grunted, "What'd ya take down?"
"Bunch of small scorpions." He hesitated, then added, "Also, a Delver."
"A Delver?" He whistled, "C'mon, man, you gotta give me that story."
"Not much of a story." He shrugged,"Shoved a grenade down its throat."
"What with your hand?"
"Mhm."
"Dayumn." The larger man chuckled, eyeing him with a sudden wariness. Quietly, he asked, "Hey, I met you before?"
"I don't think so, no." He answered, "I know I've never met you, at least."
"Yeah, just… Eh, whatever." Winchester shrugged, "Headin' out?"
"Mhm." He nodded, leaving out the part where he was leaving so he could study in peace - and share it with Guiding Light, since he was more likely to enjoy it all - and tucking the large books under his arm. "Work tomorrow, so gonna head to my hotel. Rest up while I can."
"Know what you're headin' out after?"
"Beowolves." He grunted,"Allegedly."
"Allegedly?"
"Delver wasn't on the mission description." He nodded and then shrugged, "So, allegedly."
"Yeah, fair." Cardin nodded, waving him off. "Take care, an' watch out. The animals oughta be out soon, once the sun goes down. Liable to try something with you all by yourself out there."
"Alright." He frowned, able to guess what he meant by 'animal'. Turning, he grunted a parting, "Good day."
He didn't wait for Winchester's response.
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