Phew, I managed to make another chapter before I head back to school! I don't have much to say about this chapter or this arc in general, but in terms of an upload schedule I'll try to keep it to every 4-7 days but I can't guarantee it and will notify you all if that's the case.
On a more serious note, I've taken the recent guest review into serious consideration and I'll do my best to improve while I move forward. I apologize for disappointing my readers with my mistakes, but I am human and these things happen. The only thing I really can do is move forward from what I've written and build on the criticism I receive.
So again, thank you all for the input and I hope you have a great day.
Cheers, Searoar.
The final minutes of the reunion ending with a bang, the auditorium's floor grew quiet as all festivities had come to pass. However, a handful remained, those too tired or drunk to engage in the chase of Qrow and Oobleck, they staggered out of the main exit where supplementary taxis commissioned by Ozpin were waiting to take them home.
Yet, under the leaves of the tall trees that lined Beacon's gardens, two blondes stood before one another. Hawkins, who found himself caught in a false Valesian tradition, and Glynda; who despite her doubts, wanted the night to last a little longer...
"I-Is this for me?" The witch spoke hesitantly.
In the magician's hand, was an open box with two teal earrings that were shaped like raindrops. They glimmered a brilliant turquoise, reflecting the beautiful image of the one who they were for.
Glynda, at a loss for words, eyed the man before her with surprise, but also a hint of caution. Though, the longer she stared, a kindling beneath her left breast grew hotter by the second.
While Hawkins' features would often be dismissed as unapproachable or creepy, the lack of emotion his stone visage held was contrasted by the red gems he had for eyes. A daunting scarlet, the emotion they held could rival a bonfire when provoked but were now as calm as a mellow ocean.
Quirking a brow at the intensive, Hawkins rubbed his cheek then forehead.
"Is there something on my face?" He asked. His confusion increasing as a dusting of pink-colored his fellow blonde's cheeks.
"N-No," Glynda took a deep breath to calm herself, "I just didn't expect a person of your description to go so far for a temporary outing."
Hawkins sighed and the fire in his gaze dwindled to a meek ember. "Is your opinion of me really that low?"
The witch's eyes widened a fraction. "No, that's not what I meant. It's just... my previous interactions with you were rather offputting, but that was your intent from the beginning wasn't it?"
"I have no reason to flaunt my power or former reputation in this world. After all, there is no legendary treasure waiting for me past the horizon..."
His words, weighted by sorrow and remorse, Hawkins looked toward the broken moon. Its shape, the same as it had been on his arrival to this strange world, it sparkled above him as if mocking him from its superior position.
"Perhaps you're looking in the wrong direction?" Glynda chimed in, her tone much softer than before.
The magician turned to his acquaintance, his features unmoving, a single tear rolled down his pale cheek. This vulnerability, from a man who scarcely displayed his emotions, raised all sorts of flags in Glynda's mind.
"And where should I be looking?" Hawkins stood with a palm over his mouth. "My cards foretell the chances of me returning to my stomping grounds are zero percent. If fortune decides to abandon me, then what choice do I have in the matter? The ambitions of my journeys are at an end, and it'd be in my favor to embrace the inevitable outcome sooner rather than later."
An unsettling silence between the two, Hawkins shifted at the sound of clicking heels. By the time he met Glynda's gaze, his eyes squinted at two raised fingers which promptly flicked his forehead.
"Get a hold of yourself." She said firmly. "It's important to know when to quit, but if all you do is drag yourself down after the fact you'll find yourself in a hole too deep to climb out of."
The weakened man turned away but was forced to lock sights once more by the light tap of a riding crop. Pushing against his cheek, the crop tapped it twice earning a grunt from Hawkins.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you." Glynda huffed.
"You kept your weapon with you?" He asked.
"Of course, it's common practice for any veteran huntress. Not to mention you carry around your blade at all times as well." The witch pointed to the longsword strapped around Hawkins' waist.
The magician's tongue tired of words, he simply nodded and glanced away.
"What did I just say?" Glynda frowned and tapped Hawkins' cheek again.
"Can you stop that?"
"Stop? Stop what?" She smiled a not-so-nice smile.
"Why are you acting like a child?"
"Really? Is this coming from the grumpy man who's worn nothing but a frown this entire night? I'd imagine that Summer would be too timid to call out your petty behavior, but as you can see I'm not so lenient." Glynda crossed her arms.
"Yes, your stubbornness knows no bounds," Hawkins said while rolling his eyes.
"Excuse me?" The witch snapped.
"I'm sure your ears work just fine." The magician shot back.
Glynda's lips spread to a more genuine smile. "Is that a challenge?" She tapped her chin with a manicured finger.
"Perhaps, though it all depends on how you translate the message," Hawkins smirked slightly. Standing at full height, he was a good five inches taller than his fellow blonde.
His hand resting on the hilt of his sword, the witch's smile widened at the most possible outcome after their verbal exchange.
"I wouldn't want to ruin the nice dress I bought for you, after all, it does complement your pristine beauty rather nicely," Hawkins said and took a step forward.
Glynda's cheeks gained a light tint of pink.
"I-Is that so?" She cursed her stuttering tongue. "You think I'm b-beautiful?"
The magician shrugged. "I'm not quite sure, my tongue is skilled at weaving believable lies."
Glynda's smile dropped to a thin line. "Really?"
A pull on his collar, Hawkins skidded back about twenty feet from his current spot while enveloped in a violet light.
"I'll give you one chance to correct this situation," Glynda said in a manner that sounded more inviting than threatening.
"I'll take my chances. But I have to ask... what are the stakes?" Hawkins asked in an ominous tone.
"If I win, I won't give you the newspaper article we agreed on."
The magician frowned. "You'd go against our agreement for some petty banter?"
"Yes," Glynda huffed snootily, "I would."
"Then if I am the victor..." A mischievous glint, one long gone from his days of piracy, was once again ignited in Hawkins' daunting crimson pupils.
"...You'll have to invite Ironwood on a date."
The mouth of his adversary agape and her glasses dipped to the tip of her nose, the witch's competitive nature peeked and she nodded slyly.
"The first to score three hits should suffice. However, there are rules in honorable combat." With aid of her semblance, Glynda fixed her hair into a tightly braided ponytail and fastened the loose cuffs of her sleeves.
"The first," she began, "will be no direct attacks toward the eyes."
"Agreeable," Hawkins grunted.
"Second," she gestured to the surrounding foliage, "the gardens will be the border for our spar. If either of us is forced from its premises, then the match is adjourned."
"Lastly," Hawkins took the initiative, "your semblance will not be used on my clothes or the weapons I yield and I will not resort to using extra lives."
The witch's eyes narrowed and she raised a brow at Hawkins' last statement, but after moments of silent contemplation, she agreed. Though the smirk on her fair visage earned a curled brow from her temporary date.
"Very well, shall we begin?" Glynda raised her crop and adjusted her glasses.
Hawkins' sword, exposed under the moonlight, its polished complexion reflected the moon's rays as its owner prepared for a worthy challenge. Absolute silence between the two, their muscles stood firm while their eyes played a battle of ambitious emotion. Hawkins, with his stoic expression and fiery crimson pupils; and Glynda, whose bright emerald burned with competitive eagerness.
/-/
"Do you expect me to believe that unfathomable excuse?" An exasperated Willow huffed with her hands on her hips.
The trademark Schnee glare, its force rivaling that of a daunting blizzard, bored into the hazel eyes of Beacon's headmaster as he casually sipped his late-night coffee.
Ozpin had called an early cleanup seeing that most of the guests had joined in the chase after Qrow and Oobleck, but a certain Atlesian noble decided to stay and interrogate the poor silver-haired man in front of the auditorium's main doors.
"Perhaps the stage manager could answer your questions-"
"I've already asked him many times over, but all he does is stutter incoherent answers behind that clipboard of his." Willow cut with a razor-sharp tongue.
Glancing at the man in charge of the stage, he offered Ozpin a defeated smile and scurried to assist his coworkers as they collapsed the electrical equipment into several black boxes. Cowering behind his clipboard all the while.
"I assure you, Ms. Schnee, that I don't have a clue about this mysteri0us singer. From what I've gathered and what I've been told, your performance was supposed to be a one-person song."
The noblewoman raised a thin eyebrow. "That doesn't answer any of my questions."
"Forgive me, Ms. Schnee, but I have no answers to give. If possible, perhaps Jacques would be able to shed some light on the situation? He did play a part in your scheduling after all."
With a huffy and dismissive farewell, Willow strutted toward a butler who had been patiently waiting next to the limousine and eagerly opened the passenger door when his mistress drew near.
"Of all things to end my night with it had to be a headache." Ozpin chuckled to himself as the limousine's engine hummed on its departure.
"Now that everything is settled, I think I've earned a long sleep." He yawned then downed the rest of his coffee in one great gulp.
However, the headmaster's matress would have to wait as the sudden banging of wood and crashing of stone rung from the once silent gardens. Rushing to the scene with his cane in hand, Ozpin was very shocked to see his most refined student with her riding crop out, even more so seeing the weapon was pointed at another individual.
Keeping a fair distance as to not be seen or caught up in the violent encounter, Ozpin wagered whether he should intervene, but opted not to as he spotted a giddy grin on Glynda's fair visage. He couldn't fathom what had brought the witch to engage in a late-night spar, but neither she nor her adversary seemed to be fighting for blood.
With an excited smile, Ozpin found himself the nearest bench and leaned his cane beside him. While his body begged for rest after recent events, perhaps this heated battle would reinvigorate his weary soul.
A quick clash between Glynda and... Hawkins was his name correct? The two skidded on their heels and rested about twenty feet from one another. The tension increasing by the second, neither Hawkins nor Glynda wanted to make the first move but they were ready to pounce at any vulnerability they spotted.
A smirk marring his features, Ozpin tapped the stub of his cane against the bricked pathway, and the echo rung over the garden and the ears of the fighting blondes. Their instincts taking queue, the witch raised her crop and the magician raised his sword.
"Much better," the headmaster chuckled, really wishing he refilled his coffee prior to this spectacle of wit and power.
/-/
"Straw Sword!" Hawkins lashed out. The steel of his weapon morphing to the body of his devil fruit, the rustling projectile whistled through the air with the intent of piercing Glynda's midriff.
The witch's eyes widened and she stepped back in shock. She'd witnessed the magician's strange abilities just a few minutes ago, but to see them applied to combat was something else. Flicking her crop, the bricks beneath her gained a purple hue and were hoisted from their foundations to create a curved wall.
As expected, Hawkins' straw attack rebounded, landing in the earth with a defeated thud then returning to its master to regain its steel form.
Another three flicks, the bricks pounced from their stacked position with the force of a bullet, all aimed toward Hawkins' person. The stoic blonde did well to deflect the first twelve volleys with his blade, but the bricks kept coming, and the speed of which they flew increased with every wrist flick.
"Urgh!" Hawkins growled as a piece of grayed stone knocked against his forehead.
"That's one point for me.~" Glynda put a hand over her mouth and giggled at her cohort's scowl.
Patting the dust bits off his face, the former pirate decided close-quartered combat would produce the best results, but the path to his target proved treacherous. Another flick of her crop, the bricks that Hawkins ran upon shifted violently, and his footing was lost. His back to the ground, the magician groaned as his vision blurred.
"Hm, I don't think that counts as a strike, but it was still entertaining to see.~" Glynda chirped happily.
"I should've used my tarot cards before this..." Hawkins grit his teeth.
"Should we call it a night, Hawkins?" The witch asked with a smirk as she strutted toward him with a hand on her hip. "Summer claimed your swordsmanship could thwart a veteran group of hunters, but I'm disappointed to say that you've fallen short of my expectations."
"Expectations..." The magician hummed to himself. The stars and moon regaining their image, Hawkins blinked then slowly closed his eyes.
/-/
"Is this a worthy island to disembark captain?" Faust peeked through a telescope at an island that appeared to be inhabited.
"We are in need of supplies," his superior replied, "and there is a 32% chance that the island hosts a trading town."
"Those odds are rather low, should I gather the crew?" Faust asked.
"Bring only a handful of men and leave the others to repair the sales and bow of the ship. My company should deter any potential threats."
"It's been a while since we've seen a prospering settlement, I have high hopes for this island." The cat mink hummed.
"My expectations are rather low," Hawkins grunted.
His orders received, the vice-captain hurried to the main deck while his captain performed some last-minute tarot readings. After all, was said and done, the pirates docked along the empty shore and followed their captain toward the center of the island where small clouds of smoke puffed into the clear sky.
As they ventured, a broad sign inscribed with the name Micqueot was posted beside a cobblestone road that led to a mass of wooden buildings. Sharing a glance with Faust, Hawkins led his men to the heart of the town and passed several acres of grapes and winery stores nestled around it.
The ding of a bell ringing as the front door opened, Hawkins was greeted with a young man perched behind a wide counter and a display of wine racks and vegetables behind him. He greeted the magician and his company as he did his many customers and showed him his wares. His pockets slim of coin, the tarot reader tried to strike a bargain but the shopkeeper didn't seem to happy about his propositions.
"I can chop the price on the meat and bread, but the wine of Micqueot is a special kind of brew. The only reason I'd ever put a discount on my wine would be for a special occasion."
Just then, a loud crash bellowed from the outdoor followed by shrill screams. His interest piqued, Hawkins moved to the window to witness about ten dapper gentlemen threatening an old woman with pistols.
"Should we get involved, captain?" Faust rubbed his chin with a mischievous glint in his eye.
"I'm not here for charity work," the blonde pulled out his cards and shuffled casually, "but the chances of those men having a ship here are 93%."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The shopkeeper behind them warned. "The guys causing a ruckus have a strong reputation for smuggling and they aren't used to taking no for an answer. It'd be a better idea to let them be instead of risking your life."
"Smugglers? Then they have no affiliation with the world government." Hawkins motioned his men to follow him and they met the dapper gentlemen with stoic expressions.
"Please, you've already taken half of my stores! I'm already an old woman and I don't have much left to give!" Sobbed an elderly woman as her wrist was twisted by a suited man with a twirly mustache.
"Do you expect this crummy batch to fetch anything on the black market? If you value your fields then you'll do as I say and give us the rest of your wine, otherwise, I'll fix all your problems and burn your grapevines down." The dapper man cackled and threw the helpless senior to the dirt.
About to go on another tirade, the mustached man narrowed his sights on an approaching group of ominous men. Their leader, his golden locks reflecting the sunlight and his crimson eyes burning with interest, demanded the dapper group if they had a ship posted nearby.
"Yeah, and what's it to you, Mr. Goldilocks?" The mustached man and his goons laughed.
"As I thought, there's a 64% chance that your ship has all the resources my men require to resupply." The blonde's tone grew dark. "If you value your lives then you'll give my crew everything you have, otherwise we'll take your bounty by force."
"Is that so?!" The dapper man signaled his men to gather around the handful of ruffle-collared strangers.
"It seems a battle is unavoidable." Faust sighed.
"Bang!" His captain forced to step back by the impact of a bullet, Hawkins stood still for a moment before shaking his head and fixing his posture.
"W-What?!" The dapper man's mustache rapidly twirled inward and outward. "H-How the hell are you still alive?! I shot you in the bloody forehead!"
"Life... Minus one..."
From his forearm, a straw puppet poked through with a hole in its head then landed on the soil with an ominous thud.
"Faust..." The blonde spoke slowly, his crimson gaze fixed on the trembling suited man and his cowering men.
"Let's make this quick, but leave one alive as we require a guide to their ship."
"Aye, captain." The mink nodded eagerly as he and his fellow pirates drew their swords. "I suppose today has exceeded both our expectations then?"
His superior smirked. "Fortune has exceeded my standards for this island... along with my expectations."
/-/
His mind calm, the magician lifted the lids over his eyes and allowed the bright stars and moon to reflect their brilliance into his vision. At first, the bright lights waned his resolve, but the haunting memories were soon pushed aside by recent ones that warmed Hawkins' chest with new vigor.
"Hawkins, what are you doing just moping around the house for? Come on, let's take Jaune for a walk around the farms, the little boy could use some sunshine after all." Carla's bossy voice huffed, though she wore a genuine smile when she spoke.
"Oi, Hawkins," Sam's jolly tone piped up, "the boys and I are planning to deal with a small pack of Beowolves that've been littering the outskirts of the district. Why don't you put that sword to good use and give us a hand?"
"U-Um..." An image of a trembling Trifa came next. "Y-You're not going to leave us again... are you?"
"Ababa!~" Jaune's goofy smile greeted his father after a tiring day of dealing with everybody else's problems followed by a delicious hot dinner.
"I'm perfectly fine with ending things here," Glynda's snooty tune broke Hawkins' internal musings.
The grip around his sword's hilt like that of a vice, the former pirate stood himself up and took a deep breath. "The shadow of death is not yet upon me... as my expectations for Remnant have only begun."
His stance firm, Hawkins charged toward his opponent with a challenging smirk. "The chances of me winning this fight is one-hundred percent!"
And he said that without the use of his tarot cards.
Meanwhile, on the sidelines...
"Phew, I managed to fetch myself another brew of coffee and get a bowl of buttered popcorn, and it doesn't seem like I missed anything major!"
Ozpin whistled triumphantly and returned to his hidden seat. His smile never faltering as he grabbed a clump of buttery goodness and raised it to his drooling mouth. However, he did curl a brow as an odd white light seemed to be emanating from beneath Hawkins's shirt, but put off his suspicions as the fight between the magician and witch had only begun.