To say Digger was having an annoying time would be an understatement. Those scroll-like devices that he coined as an 'iFruit Thin'? Well apparently they're called Scrolls and they proved to be annoying to work with. The scroll was very cumbersome! More so than his iFruit! However, on the bright side, he was able to listen to music again! Downloaded a handy little app called "Horus". Only highlight of this shit show in his personal opinion. Putting his scroll back into his pocket he stretches out slightly. An order of Coffee and an ashtray, with an omelet. Nothing fancy, considering he didn't have his vast liquid and material fortune, but! He was surviving. He could probably invest in the stock market here, if there was a stock market for that matter, maybe do some market manipulation? Yet, soon enough a familiar white-haired Headmaster comes into view, with a briefcase and a cane. Sorta reminded him of Lester.
"Good Morning, Mr Gallio." Ozpin greeted with hints of exhaustion in his tone. The Headmaster took a seat directly across from the Career Criminal, and soon enough a waiter was at the table. The White-Haired man ordered a simple coffee — no sugars or cream, just pure black coffee. Digger sits up slightly. "Contract?" The (not so) man of few words inquired. The headmaster nodded and placed the briefcase on the table, opening it up, and taking out a few documents before sliding them with a pen to Digger.
Digger began reading through the terms. His eyes analyzed the document, he would be getting paid about 19.34 lien per hour, not bad in his opinion. He got a break in winter, spring and summers off. Pretty good so far. Moving over to the next page, he would be given room and board in the faculty apartments on campus. This was getting sweeter and sweeter by the moment. Looking up to the coffee sipping Ozpin he asks a simple question. "Union?" Ozpin was taken aback slightly but continued sipping his coffee. "Well, there hasn't been much need for a Union at our Academy, due in part because of good benefits." Digger nodded, then he looked at the big ole 'sign here' section of the contract. Without a second thought pen connected to paper.
He was sitting on the couch eating a bowl of pumpkin flakes, shoveling spoonfuls of the sugary goodness as Cinder looked like she wanted to break his skull. Yet there was a cunning in those orange eyes of hers. Digger shovels another spoonful of pumpkin pete's down his gullet. There was a sharp silence between the two. "Why didn't you inform me of Ozpin approaching you?" CRUNCH. Digger stops chewing his pumpkin flakes, before gulping down the contents in his mouth. She looked like she wanted to turn him into a digger-skinned coat.
"Didn't seem important." Digger states with a certain degree of nonchalance. He could've sworn he saw a vein bulge from her head like she was some sort of Japanimation character. Cinder sharply exhales, as she looks at him with a degree of ridicule. "Very well, this could greatly aid our plans, speeding up a few deadlines in fact." Cinder states, as an aura of calm takes over her person.
Freaky. One moment talking with a complete psychopath to a very calm and calculating person. Sorta reminded him of that one guy? Train? Theo? Thomas? No, wait Trevor! Yeah that nutcase. "- As such I expect you to report the activities of Ozpin and his inner-circle." Ah piss, he spaced out again. Lovely, good going dickweed. "Noted." Simple enough job right? Spy on ole Ozzy Ozpin, easy enough. He sets his bowl down as he wiped his mouth with his arm. "Any other requests?" He knew that he would regret asking this question, but to quote his recent life mantra? Fuck it, we ball.
He looked at himself in his bathroom's mirror. His hands danced around his neck as he wrapped his slim red tie around his neck. He tied himself a simple windsor knot, it was professional. Digger casted a glance over to his hung up vest. Humming a tune, he spins around and takes it off the hanger, putting on the black vest over his white dress shirt. His appearance had changed radically since he moved into his little apartment. His hair had been slicked back and he looked ready to take on the first day of his new job.
He exited his bathroom, his apartment had quickly become a reflection of himself, it was darkened, he preferred his blinds closed, and didn't want pervy teenagers spying on him. His suitcase was on his couch, he had been unpacking his meager collection of items. He walked over to the suitcase, there wasn't much left in it. Humming a tune, he reaches in, moving some articles of clothing around, grabbing his handgun he examines the piece. The weapon was made of polymer, distinctive red lines, he flips on the safety before placing it in his waistband. He strolls over to his coat rack and grabs a simple brown leather jacket, a juxtaposition to his much more formal look.
He was still him after all, grabbing his pair of aviator sunglasses from his interior pocket, he puts 'em on. Did he look like a dork? Probably since it was still morning, but he rolled with it. The halls of Beacon were long, and reminded him of the old European Cathedrals he saw in travel brochures. Yet he moved with purpose, the sun was just rising and as he moved, he saw some students making a bee-line for the cafeteria. Not that he blamed them, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, or well that's at least what the theory says.
The walk was long, he got a few curious glances from students towards his way, not that he blamed them. Seeing a tatted-up man perusing the campus is an odd thing, but he eventually entered the administration building. It was a large building, adjacent to the absolutely massive tower that was in the center of the Castle. He approached the elevator, pressing down on the button. He heard the clacking of heels as a shorter woman joined him in standing by the elevator. She was short, like maybe 5'ft if she weren't in heels, with peach-colored hair in a neat bun. "Morning." Digger greets offhandedly, the shorter woman casts a glance up to the taller man. "Good Morning." She greeted him with a cordial tone. After the greeting an awkward silence washed over between them as the elevator arrives, the shorter woman enters first, and Digger follows behind.
The shorter woman presses a button for the third floor. There was some simple elevator music playing, yet they arrived at their destination. The smaller woman led the way as he followed behind her. He cast a glance at an open door towards the middle of the hallway. Digger and his new unnamed colleague enter the room. There were several over members of the faculty, including whats-her-face, the blonde, her name right now escaped him. But the faculty was quietly talking amongst each other, and there was a coffee maker. He hadn't had any caffeine yet, so when in Rome do as the Romans do. Become a caffeine addict!
He for one preferred using a French press, but it was one of those little pod machines. Putting in one of 'em, and grabbing a white coffee mug that was on a rack. It took a few minutes and soon the machine finished dispensing coffee. Taking his mug he takes a sip of it, a nice vanilla note surprisingly enough. He didn't hate it. He saw a few curious looks being shot towards him as he stood in the back. Blonde-whatsher-McFace, uh-uh-uh Glynda! Yeah he remembered her now! She had a slight look of knowing but also a bit of confusion, probably asking: Why is there a Caterer? Well he could most certainly cater ass-kickings, because that's just how he is.
Then came the first of his new co-workers, an older gentleman with a round physique with a mighty mustache. "Good Morning!" The older man greets, his tone was jovial, reminded him of Santa Claus a little bit. "Professor Peter Port, Grimm Studies and Huntsman extraordinaire!" the freshly named Port declared with an outreached hand. "Digger, Digger Bones, Master-at-Arms." The career crook shook the older man's hand. "Ah! So you must be the new hire we were told about! Managed to impress Ozpin now did you?" Digger nodded as he took a sip of his coffee. "He's certainly brave, he 'handled' three White Fang insurgents." A new voice chimes in, Glynda states as she sauntered over to the two men.
"Is that so Ms Goodwitch?" Port says, his eyes squinting as he looked at the new Master-at-Arms. "Did you take notes from Spruce Willis?!" Port declares with a haughty chuckle, Digger lets a low chuckle escape his lips. "Nah, he takes notes from me." Digger jokes. Yet they heard the movement of dress shoes as his enigmatic white haired employer entered the room. "Good morning ladies and gentlemen, it seems that some of you are getting to know our new Master-at-Arms, Mr Bones." The Headmaster gestures towards the leather jacket wearing Digger. "Speaking of, you Mr Bones will be given your uniform soon." The Headmaster declares with a smile. "Now enough socialization, we have a very busy first day of school, so gather around."
Well, guess who's back? Back again. I'd like to apologize for my prolonged absence I was busy working on well my career! But I'm going to try and stick to a schedule in terms of writing. Please leave critiques and give me your thoughts theories and queries. Because I am always happy to answer them!