The sun peeked through the branches adding a comfortable light to his tarot readings. With many of the farmers devoting their time to rebuilding their lost homes, Hawkins found himself with nothing to do as Sam and Carla had told him to spend the day away from the farms. It was an odd request, but the magician didn't think much of it and made his way to the park he'd come to familiarize himself with.
Seated on his favorite bench, a cyclist passed by with a baby strapped snuggly to his chest, his wife behind him as she also had a toddler sitting in a bike extension hitched to the back of her bike. His mind wandering from his cards, the image of a goofy blonde tyke nicked his conscience.
Jaune overall was a well-mannered boy, but his tendency to wander was something Hawkins would have to remedy before his son's curiosity got the better of him. His eyes drifting back to his cards, a peculiar sight caught his attention. Strutting down the middle paths of the park, a young woman held up a silver compact as she applied a light brush of makeup on her cheeks.
Caring little for the eye candy, Hawkins went back to shuffling his cards with a nonchalant expression. However, he should have done a few readings in regards to the familiar woman. For soon his raised cards were pushed down by a set of manicured nails. The magician curled a brow. Summer and Carla didn't paint their nails, and violet wasn't their preferred color. Stiffly craning his neck to meet with the interruption, the blonde frowned as his fiery crimson met with an annoyed bright green.
"I've been standing here for five minutes." Glynda huffed.
"And why should that concern me?" Hawkins grunted.
"Because when someone walks up to you, it usually means they want to converse." She snapped.
The magician rolled his eyes. To have his peaceful day out ruined by this stern presence, fate had truly dealt him a cruel hand.
"And what business do you have with me?"
"Perhaps we could discuss this in a more private setting?" The huntress glanced at the men around her. They were still shooting her lustful gazes, but they seemed to narrow on the man she was speaking to.
Closing her compact, Glynda sighed and forced a short smile. The gesture did not go unnoticed, and sensing danger, the former pirate put away his cards and stood himself up. A lengthy conversation with the witch seemed like a bad idea, and he wanted to avoid stressing himself over another person's problems.
"W-Where are you going?"
"I have business elsewhere, farewell, Ms. Goodwitch." A swift reply, Hawkins tried to leave but felt his boots sink into the earth as a purple hue encircled his body.
"Hold it right there, we're not finished yet."
A deep sigh, the man turned to face his fellow blonde. His stance showing he had no plan to retreat, Glynda allowed him his freedom and deactivated her semblance. "Are my talents in combat required? If so, I'd suggest asking your teammates to aid you since there's a 71% chance you have better chemistry."
The witch shook her head. "While Summer has praised your use of a sword, the situation that has befallen me is not one of bloodshed or Grimm."
Hawkins' brows wrinkled. What could this woman possibly want from him that her teammates could not already provide? His curiosity getting the better of him, the man opened his mouth.
"If you are in no need of my blade, then why do you request my presence?"
Glynda crossed her arms. "Hawkins, are you seeing anyone?"
The magician blinked. "I'm seeing you right now aren't I?"
For some reason, the witch's smile stretched. "Yes you are, but perhaps you can do so again at six o'clock this Friday?"
"...What?"
A victorious smirk plastered on her visage, Glynda could already see the stupid looks on Qrow's, Tai's, and especially Ironwood's faces. Hawkins was beyond the perfect choice for a temporary date. He was respectfully reserved, he didn't sneak perverted peeks at her body, and if she explained the circumstances, surely the magician wouldn't think of their joined date as more than a one-time thing.
"Is this supposed to be some sort of joke? I warn you that I detest such trivial topics of folly."
The huntress giggled with a hand over her mouth. "No, you heard me right. You see, there's a grad reunion coming up and it is suggested that everyone has a date. I know that you don't enjoy committed excursions, so I plan on spending our time together as nothing more than a friendly outing. How does that sound?"
Fluttering her elongated eyelashes, Glynda's smile faltered at Hawkins' deadpanned expression. Why was he looking at her like she was some sort of nuisance?
"Forgive me... but you're not my type." A blunt delivery was harsh, but it was the easiest way to diffuse the situation before things got out of hand.
Now it was the witch's turn to blink as did many of the other surrounding men who eavesdropped on the conversation.
"Excuse me?"
The magician sighed deeply. "I do not enjoy being used for somebody else's personal gain. If you want a lackey to attend this grad reunion, there's plenty of candidates just idly hanging around that you could ask."
He pointed to a well-dressed chap in an orange polo shirt and withdrew his tarot cards.
"Take that man for example. There's an 82% chance he'd accept your proposal without question."
Her left eye twitching, Glynda grit her teeth and bit back a snarl.
"But it's you I'm asking, not them." She said with a strained voice.
"Then I decline. I'm not even a student of this Beacon Academy that you're so proud of. Wouldn't my attendance draw suspicion as well?"
"Suspicion? Why would anyone be suspicious of me having a date?" The huntress retorted.
Rubbing his temples, Hawkins cupped his chin, lowered his cards, and eyed his acquaintance from head to toe. His stare lasting longer than expected, Glynda grew self-conscious and crossed her arms.
"Given your height, delicate facial features, and curvaceous body, there's an 87% chance that men would drool over the idea of dating you. However, given your stern attitude and uptight demeanor, many would falter in a long-term relationship due to not meeting the personal standards you seek in a significant other."
Glynda's eyes widened at the lengthy monologue. This was the most Hawkins had ever spoken to her, and it didn't look like he'd be stopping anytime soon.
"This, coupled with your lavish violet dress, handcrafted earrings, and the luminous pale emeralds you have for eyes, your attire as a whole emphasizes your natural beauty by seventy-two percent."
Listing off his observations while counting his fingers, his fellow blonde's mind drew a blank. Was this Hawkins' attempt at flirting? Or was he really this forthright with his descriptions?
"Thus, it is clear that by all definition, people would consider that you are out of my league, Ms. Goodwitch and many of your former classmates would consider that I bribed or blackmailed you to attend the grad reunion with me."
"W-Well, I'm not sure what to say..." Glynda mumbled.
Nodding politely, Hawkins moved past the bewildered woman and began his journey home. Lunch would be a good excuse to come back, and even if Carla and Sam were out at work, perhaps he'd check up on Jaune and Trifa instead.
His hopes dashed, the clicking of heels trailed his retreat, and once again a purple hue held him back. Cursing his misfortune, the magician shuffled his cards in search of the highest chance of escape.
/-/
"Ababa~" Jaune laughed from his sling around Carla's shoulders.
"Keep close, Trifa. We wouldn't want you getting lost in this part of the city." The cow Faunus guided the young girl with a gentle palm, and the two entered a music shop with Sam in tow.
It was a miracle their closets were spared from the fiery destruction, but it'd had taken quite the soap scrubbing to get Carla's sundresses and Sam's suits grime-free. For Trifa and Jaune, the two managed with a simple pair of t-shirts and shorts.
"Well, isn't this a refreshing sight! I haven't seen you around here before, are you in need of assistance?" A tanned man with curly brown locks greeted the customers with a warm smile.
A green apron around his waist, the image of a guitar with the name 'Humming Strings' stitched on the front as he gestured to a myriad of shelves.
"Huh, they've got all sorts of instruments here, eh, Carla?" Sam pushed up his hat and walked over to the glass counter which doubled as an instrument display. Inside was a plethora of polished wind instruments varying from fiddles to clarinets. There were even a few kazoos. In the background, high above the counter, was a rack of guitars all with their own special paint job that gave them that instinctive pizazz.
Trifa remained at Carla's side, holding the adult's hand as she allowed her eyes to wander the glistening items of wood and metal.
"We have a grand selection as you can see, why many of our instruments are handcrafted in the woodshop outback, but we do have some imported pieces from Mistral that came in not too long ago." The tanned man stuck with Sam, explaining to the deer Faunus about the history and relevance of every musical tool the shop had to offer.
"Um, so why are we here again?" Trifa asked.
"We're here to buy a gift for Hawkins." Carla grinned. "He's done so much for us as of late, but with my kitchen gone, I can't really repay him with an all-star meal."
"But does Hawkins know how to play any of these things?" Sam returned after the assistant excused himself to help out another customer.
"He can always learn, and I think he'd appreciate a gift he can hold onto instead of a hearty meal that'll disappear within the hour." His wife said.
"What about a violin?" Trifa pointed to a massive wooden instrument perched on a stand.
Sam chuckled. "That's not a violin, Trifa. It's a cello. While it might look the same, the sound you get out of it is completely different."
"Oh, well what about this trumpet?" The girl veered her sights to an elongated brass horn with a protruding ovular stick attached to the bottom of it.
"That's not a trumpet either." Sam smiled at Trifa's cute pout.
"It's a trombone." He corrected. "There are plenty of instruments that are from similar families, but they all have their own uses and create their own unique tunes."
"Well, which one of these should we pick?" Carla brought the others back to the task at hand as the group wandered to a corner of the store.
"I hate to say it, but my wallet's a bit tight on this decision." Sam scratched his cheek and patted his right pant pocket.
"That's why I'm here, silly," Carla said smugly and retrieved a rather thick envelope of lien bills from her handbag.
"Whoa, are those the bills Hawkins repaid us with?" Her husband pursed his lips with furrowed brows.
"Don't worry, I made sure to return that rude man's money when he moved back into the district. This, my dear Samuel, are the savings I've been holding onto in case we found ourselves in a pinch."
"B-But how? I thought we lost everything else in that terrible inferno." Sam balked.
Carla wagged a finger. "My mother was always ahead of her time when it came to safekeeping lien. So I took a few notes and stored these bills inside a cast-iron box in the cellar, and by golly did that square lump of metal do the trick!"
The two farmers laughed at their great fortune and Trifa and Jaune smiled in turn. After half an hour of perusing the store, the group decided on a small violin suggested by the staff that would suit a man over six feet tall.
A thick cardboard box snuggled beneath his arm, Sam motioned to the exit but paused as his eyes spotted a familiar figure through the window panes, said figure, appeared to be in light conversation with a rather attractive woman, but before Sam could call out his suspicions, he lost sight of the man and his cohort when they rounded a corner.
"Sam, is something wrong?" Asked Carla as she tapped her husband's shoulder.
"It's nothing dear. Let's get a move on shall we? I still need to help Max and the boys in clearing out the ruins of the burned-down windmills."
The deer Faunus rubbed his chin. Hawkins didn't seem like the type who was eager to get into a relationship or willingly indulge in idle chit-chat.
"Hmph, probably just a stranger who looked like him." He shrugged.
/-/
"Why am I the only person you consider a worthy candidate? If you ask me, there are plenty of men who'd love to spend a night with you, even if it's only temporary." Hawkins groaned. He'd heard that the snooty witch was aggressive, but this was absurd, the magician was practically a stranger for Oum's sake!
"What if I offered some sort of payment?" Glynda bit her lower lip and reached for her purse.
"Are you that desperate?" The magician grunted.
The witch rubbed her temples. Truth be told she wasn't good at being the flirt as she'd grown used to being approached by all sorts of wealthy and dignified suitors.
"If I told you that there's a particular person I want to avoid at all costs, would that give me any incentive?"
"Not really..." The tarot reader frowned.
"But don't you want to spend time with your friends of STTQ? They'll be at the reunion with us, and I'm sure that Summer would love to see you there."
His pacing slowed, Hawkins sighed and shook his head. "Summer already has her hands full in managing her new responsibilities as a mother, so why should I intrude on her affairs and cause more distractions?"
That wasn't the answer Glynda was expecting but brushed the comment aside for another attempt to coerce the magician.
"Perhaps we can settle this debate with a battle of witts?"
The magician grunted. "What kind did you have in mind?"
"Are you familiar with the classical game of chess?"
Hawkins racked his brain. "It's the game where you move pieces on a checkered board and attempt to trap the king correct?"
A sinister smile weaving through her glossy lips, the huntress withdrew her disciplinarian and motioned for Hawkins to follow her. He did, but only because his tarot cards predicted his chance of evasion at this point was only thirteen percent.
Brought to the western sections of the commercial district, Hawkins found himself floundering for directions as many of the streets were jam-packed with Vale's citizens, least to say, the magician did not enjoy the bustling location.
"We're here." Glynda hummed and passed a set of pointed iron gates that led to a six-storied building that spanned at least two blocks.
The exterior consisted of beige bricks with traditional windows with cross-shaped supports. At the front was a garden with a fountain chiseled in the shape of a knight riding his trusty steed. The sculpture was positioned at the center of the garden and was surrounded by an ensemble of flowers varying from dark roses to white lilies.
"Hawkins?" The witch turned on her heels and tilted her head at her fellow blonde's curious expression.
His gaze fixed on a bronze plaque, many names were inscribed on its surface but they didn't mean much to him.
"It's to honor the captains of the great war," Glynda stated.
His crimson eyes fixed on the plaque, the magician curled a brow and remained silent. Seeing her cohort would make no attempt to speak, the huntress took charge with a hand on her hip.
"The man carved before you is Julius Arc."
"An Arc?"
Glynda nodded. "He was the captain of Vales' general army during the middle and ending battles of the great war. But also a strong leader during Vale's reconstruction once the worldwide peace treaty had been signed. Though many would argue that he was a rather soft man, and many of his decisions led to greater problems near the end of his career."
"I see..."
"Are you a fan of history, Hawkins?"
The former pirate slowly shook his head. "While I'm not familiar with Remnant's past, I am curious about the individual name of Arc. Tell me, does their bloodline still exist?"
The huntress crossed her arms. "The last descendant to uphold that noble name was Harold Arc. He was born a single child but found happiness with his wife before his tragic demise some months ago. Did you not hear about this? It was all over the news and papers when it occurred."
"Would you happen to have a copy of that article?" Hawkins asked.
"I do, or rather my teammate does, but it's only a physical copy. For some reason, all the articles regarding Bastion's death were wiped from the internet three days after their release. I'm not one for gossip or conspiracy theories, but I cannot deny Thumbelina's hypothesis of foul play."
With the sound of rustling paper echoing in her ears, Glynda tilted her head as Hawkins' cards danced between his palms. She had to admit, the stoic man did have a talent for shuffling, even if his skills were only above the average street performer.
"When can I read that physical copy?"
The stern woman opened her mouth but quickly clamped it shut. Another sinister smile twitching the corners of her lips, Glynda's green pupils held an ominous sparkle that did not bode well for the magician.
"Will this old newspaper be a fair exchange for your attendance at my grad reunion?"
Hawkins' face fell so fast his cohort would've missed it if she blinked.
"..."
"I'll take your silence as a yes.~"