Hammer, Nails, and a Rapier

by Arboribus Amao

I had been outvoted in having to deal with the Schnee heiress's weapon repairs. My life would have been a lot easier if my boss was actually as cold as her name implied. Unfortunately, she was less cold and more witty, nerdy, and far too dorky.

1. Chapter 1

I tilted my head in confusion—not dissimilar to a cat—as I looked at Oliver. "You said we have to deal with who today?"

I half hoped my friend was lying. I really didn't want to deal with them. Unfortunately, my blond pal was quick to bash my hopes over the head with a hammer and send them to the grave.

"Weiss Schnee. We are meant to deal with her weaponry, I believ—actually!" Oliver grins and gives me a look that fills me with dread. It's a cheeky expression, one that promised me pain. "You get to deal with Weiss Schee! I almost forgot that I'm your boss, I don't need to deal with these things anymore!"

"But…I started working here a month ago!" I beg out. "What if I mess up? Then we both might get fired!"

My protests were very reasonable. I only started working for the Schnee Dust Company a month ago. I'm part of the Research and Development department, but only as an apprentice. Basically, my job is to be everyone else's manservant while they get to do the actually interesting things.

It felt like an insult to my intellect but, well, I already got no respect as a seventeen year old in a career full of people double, if not triple, my age. I was the youngest, a role Oliver used to hold. He is twenty-five, though, so he actually has rights. I don't have those.

"You'll be fine." Oliver says, walking out of my workstation. He patted me on the cheek, smudging oil onto my face. "Amelia, James, and everyone else will be getting lunch. Have fun!"

"What!" I protested again, brushing a hand across my face. It only further smeared the oil. I'd deal with it later. "You're leaving just me and the heiress!?"

Oliver closed the door to my room, flicked the light off, and I was left staring into empty space. This…sucks. This sucks a lot. I'd have to deal with the Schnee Heiress—my boss—alone. My boss who is a seventeen year old girl. My age. And people my age suffer from a disorder called being stupid. It's present in people much older, but it is especially noticeable in people my age.

Groaning, I leaned back in my seat and stared at the ceiling. If all went well, I'd do whatever order of hers quickly and then be back to being a slave to my colleagues. Except Weiss Schnee was notorious for being as cold as her last name implied.

White Snow, what a name, I mused to myself. That must've taken a lot of creativity to figure out from her parents. Almost as creative as Winter Snow.

Again, I probably shouldn't be talking smack about my bosses. But, as I said, people my age are stupid. I will be maintaining that stupidity as is my right as a stupid teenager.

I do hope this goes well, though. I'd prefer to not be sent into homelessness—if the SDC fires me, I'd be blacklisted everywhere. It is the big risk of working here. The upside is that they pay their workers excessively. Unless you work in the mines, of course. Then you don't get paid.

At least she could sing nicely. Maybe I could talk about that? I'd heard her performances before online and it was impressive.

Actually, no. I'd get flogged by her.

So, how should I deal with her? I probably sho—

"—are you Nico Ribbeck?" A voice broke into the room as my door opened. I immediately swiveled around in my chair and fixed my posture, trying to prevent myself from looking too dishevelled. The white-haired girl looked at me. She immediately turned around. "Nevermind."

"Wait!" I quickly called out, shooting from my chair to stand and to flick on a light. Damnit, Oliver! I mentally cursed the man. "I'm him!" Weiss turned around, her eyes heavily critical. I deflate slightly. "I—I mean I'm Nico Ribbeck."

"You are…" She seems to be searching for words, her eyes rolling over me as pretty features shift into a more…take aback look? "My age? I thought you would be far…older."

"Nope!" I quip, attempting to make my voice cheerful. I failed. "I'm afraid that I am still a teen, Miss Schnee…?" The words felt weird on my lips. "Or Weiss? I—sorry, I'm not too sure as to what I should call you?"

Weiss had a startled look to her face, almost as if she didn't expect to hear her own name from someone her own age. That was sad, I idly noted. What kind of upbringing did she have where it became unsettling for people to call her by her own name?

Finally, Weiss got to an answer. "You can call me whatever you like…?" Her answer was more of a question than anything, like she wasn't actually sure as to what she wanted. "You are competent to assist me, correct?"

"Absolutely, Weiss." I nod my head, giving her a small smile. "And you could call me Nico, if you'd like?"

The white-haired girl looked away from me, gazing off into the distance before she finally turned back to me, meeting my eyes. Her lips moved slightly upwards, an action I imagined she didn't do often. "Then I'm in your hands, Nico."

We both awkwardly stood there for a moment, holding partially awkward, microscopic smiles on our faces as we looked at each other, waiting for the other to do something. I took a hint and started talking. "S—so! You, ah, need help with something? I may be, well, seventeen, but I am not incompetent."

I wanted to curse myself, now. Why was I being so awkward!?

"Yeah." Weiss nodded her head before flushing, a visage of embarrassment passing over her. "I—I mean yes! Yes, I need something." She reached to her side and pulled out a sheathed blade, holding it in both of her hands. She held it with pride. "This is Myrtenaster, my rapier."

"So you need some changes to it?" I curiously say. "We can go to my workb—" Suddenly, I was reminded of how terribly messy my workbench. "A workbench. I'll help you with whatever you need."

The heiress nodded her head, emoting in a far nicer manner than I had expected. "Thank you, Nico. I'll—" She paused and seemed to gaze in on my cheeks, staring at something on my face. Her lips twitched in amusement. "I'll follow your lead."

I held back from touching my face, trying to guess what she was looking at. I had no clue.

Her expectant look gave me enough prompting, making me immediately start moving towards Amelia's workbench. She was a neat-freak, so it would be the best place for me to work without embarrassing myself over a mess.

Moving over to Amelia's room, I opened the door and flicked on the lights. I was right, it was immensely neat. Unfortunately, there was only one seat. I stood still in the doorway and wanted to swear very badly.

I turned to look at Weiss, the girl having been dutifully following me. "I'll go grab another chair, Weiss. You can sit down if you want, I will only be a few minutes."

"It is alright." She shook her head. "I don't mind standing."

"Well, I mind it." I refused her. "What kind of man would I be if I let a pretty lady stand whilst I sat? A terrible one, that's what."

I wanted to stab myself as soon as I said the words. Control yourself, Nico!

"Oh." The white-haired girl eloquently said, giving me a look I could not decipher. Her cheeks were peachy, eyes slightly wide. "You—do you actually mean that?"

I blinked in confusion, silently cursing myself for what I said. "Do I mean what?"

"That—" Weiss shook her head, smoothing her features. "Nevermind. Let us begin working on Myrtenaster."

Even still, I stared at her in confusion. I don't know what she was asking about before. Did I mean what? That it'd be rude for me to sit while she stood? But that was common etiquette, why would I not mean it? Or was it the fact I called her pretty, which…

"Yeah, I did mean it." She was pretty. I do not make a habit of lying to people.

Weiss choked. "What? You—you meant what?"

"Everything I said." I honestly admit, digging myself into a grave. I was probably going to get all of R fired here. "I really would feel bad if I left you standing while I sat. And you are pretty."

Why am I still talking?! Bad tongue, BAD!

Unfortunately for me, my habit of digging myself into a hole was never going to leave me. Nor was my terrible luck talking to women, people, or inanimate objects given my horrible coding skills.

"Oh." Weiss dumbly repeated, surprised at what I said. The girl coughed, pulling herself out of her stupor. "I mean, obviously I'm pretty. Just look at me." She cockily said, but her cheeks were flushed. "I—I mean don't look at me! Or…"

My cheeks became equally flushed as I looked away. Is this what happens when two teenagers with no social skills talk? Because I am not a fan. Not because of Weiss! She'd been…actually pretty nice. "I'll…go get that chair?" I weakly say, already leaving before she could get a word in.

I cursed myself as I walked towards my workstation, keen on robbing my chair from myself. Why did I have to be so damned awkward talking to my literal boss! I could have managed dealing with Jacques Schnee, why was she so hard to deal with!

Holding back a groan, I grabbed my chair and pulled it through the hall and towards Amelia's room. Time to continue ruining my career prospects…

"I'm back?" I say hesitantly, stepping into the workspace.

Weiss had sat down in the time between my departure and arrival. She seemed much more steeled than before. Then, her eyes met mine and I was forced to look away with rosy cheeks. I'd like to curse my usual distaste for eye contact, but…

This felt different.

"So…" I began, carefully keeping my eyes on Weiss's nose instead of her eyes. "What exactly do you need me to d—do—"

I began to stutter as she made eye contact, my cheeks flushing. Which then caused her to flush.

"Sorry…" I weakly apologized. "We are getting nowhere, aren't we?"

Weiss looked down for a moment before she looked back up, now being the one to look at my nose. "It is…alright. I don't blame you for—for whatever is going on."

I play with my hands, staring at them. "So, what do you need help with?"

"I'm going to Beacon." She quickly spits out, taking advantage of the opening I gave, something I thanked the gods for. "Myrtenaster needs to be checked for any damages before I leave."

"You're going to Beacon?" I can't hide the impressed look I give her. From what I'd heard, Beacon was the best of all the Huntsman academies. And, from what they say about Ozpin, he wouldn't just let people in based on nepotism.

Weiss seems to almost preen, loving the positive attention I was giving her. "Of course I am. I'm a Schnee, after all. And Schnees only accomplish the best."

"Still, though…it's impressive."

She reddened. "You think so—" Weiss cut herself off. She puffed up with false-bravado. "I mean, of course it is. But it wasn't anything difficult for someone like myself."

My lips downturned against my will. That was…a really terrible mindset. Not because it was cocky or anything, no. "There's nothing wrong with feeling pride in your accomplishments."

That was the wrong thing to say. Weiss glared at me. "I feel pride in my accomplishments!" She said in offense.

I raise my hands in surrender. "I didn't say you don't. But why did you say, for someone like yourself? It just seems to downplay what you've done…"

Weiss sat there, looking at me as if I was saying something crazy to her. I was preparing to be fired. She opened her mouth and then closed it, shaking her head. "Tell me about yourself." Weiss ordered.

"But aren't I supposed to be helping you?" I confusedly asked, tilting my head. "Why would I be—?"

"Just—" Weiss looked down. "I want to hear about you."

"Oh." I eloquently reply, feeling much too warm. "You do?"

"Yeah." Weiss replies just as eloquently. "I—I mean yes! Yes, I want to hear about you. So…so tell me about yourself?" She ordered weakly.

"What do you…um…" I taper off, playing with my hands. "What do you want to hear about?"

Weiss remained silent, unconsciously taping her left foot gently against the ground as she quietly hummed. Shortly after, she opened her mouth to speak. "I don't know."

"You…don't know?" I repeat her words to her.

Weiss bobbed her head slowly in embarrassment.

"Okay." I simply say. "I guess I could talk about my hobbies? I'll talk about my hobbies and then you tell me about yours?"

The Heiress seems to consider my words. "Very well. That is agreeable to me."

"Great!" I smile. "As you can guess by my career path," I gesture about the room, "I tend to hold academic interests. I've always loved designing things, something I picked up as a kid. What else…" I hum to myself. "Oh! I love history?"

Weiss had been listening intently to me, a fact which was highly flattering. Her eyes lit up at the end of my soliloquy. "You like history?" She rhetorically said, a bright gleam to her pupils. "What's your favorite part? I personally find the transitory period between the Mantelian dukedoms into the Atlesian Monarchy to be beyond fascinating."

I blinked, taken aback by the sheer gusto she was engaging me with. I guess she likes history? Regardless, I dive into the conversation. "Because of your family's influence on the consolidation of the central authority within Atlas, right?" I curiously ask.

"Partially." She agreed. "But that's only a recent development. Atlas was already taking over Mantle in regional power by the time my grandfather began to truly have political clout. But you didn't say which period is your favorite." Weiss pointedly said, her lips forming, dare I say, a pout.

"Sorry, sorry." I apologize with a small laugh. "I guess I'd say I'm a fan of the era of six kingdoms? The sheer cultural impact the six rival kingdoms of Solitas had on modern Atlesian society is immense. Like the first cases of dust warfare!"

"The Battle of the Reibone River?" Weiss eagerly said. "Do you also fall on the side of considering that battle to be the first example of dust warfare?"

"Of course I do. The Mantleian forces ignited the dust reserves along the river, only an idiot would say that is not an example of early dust warfare." I look at the nerd across from me like the treasure trove of conversation that she was. "You're awesome, you know that?"

Weiss choked. "What?!" She sputtered for a moment. "Ob—obviously I am! But, ah, why are you saying that?"

I've decided on a truly brilliant choice. I was going to let my mouth ruin my career because I sincerely lack people my age to talk to in any kind of intellectual capacity. "You're smart." I bluntly say. "You're smart, my age, and have good interests. I am going to be monopolizing your time."

"You're—what?" Weiss choked out again, looking at me in complete bafflement. "You…you'll monopolize my time?"

"Yes." I flatly tell her. "I lack friends my age. I imagine this is likely true for you?" I wait for Weiss to respond. She gives an embarrassed nod. "Good! That means we have the easy solution of being each other's friends."

Weiss opens her mouth and then falters. She opens her mouth again, utterly flabbergasted. "But…I can't be your friend."

"Why?"

Weiss, yet again, falters. She looks away and then puffs up. "I'm a Schnee. I can't be friends with a commoner like you. It's…uncooth."

"Ouch." I try to avoid wincing.

"I…" Weiss glances down and frowns, folding under zero pressure. "Fine….maybe."

"Really?" I beam at her. "We can be friends?"

She flushed and looked away. "But you don't get to monopolize my time!" Weiss huffed, crossing her arms childishly. "It's my time."

"Our time?" I playfully bargained, trying for puppy-dog eyes with my boss.

Weiss refused, puffing her cheeks out. "No. I might just take away my offer of friendship if you continue with this…doltish…behavior."

"Pretty please?"

She stared at me. I stared back. She exhaled, air blowing out of her nose. "...maybe."

"Yes!" I pump my fist back. "You won't regret it…probably."

"Probably?" She incredulously replies. "I probably will not regret sharing my time with you? You are not incentivizing me to partition my minutes with you, you know."

"Parition, your highness?" I couldn't help but rib her, biting the tip of my tongue as I quieted, the muscle just peeking out of my mouth. "Must I summon the royal scribes to take note of the treatise?"

Weiss's mouth hung low, a noticeable gap forming between her upper and lower lips. She was, in fact, gaping at my words. "You—!" She paused, opening and closing her mouth in a fashion similar to a fish. A thought seemed to pass over her. Then, she solidified herself and crossed her arms pompously. "Hm. Maybe you are right, pauper. Carry on, go produce an announcement for the couriers to deliver. And be prompt about it!"

"And what shall this message contain, your highness?" I dutifully responded, chin turned in an obedient manner. "Willst it transcribe a text pertaining to the object of our discussion? Or shall it obfuscate the wording alluding to the nature of your desires: that ambition of yours to properly divide thy time to a villein like me?"

The princess admired her nails, holding her right hand in front of her. Flicking her fingers forward after a small twirl of her wrist, Weiss pointed at me. Her lips cracked slightly into a smile. "The former wouldst be excellent, dutiful peon. And I hope you do not keep me waiting—we are dealing in my sanctimonious time, after all."

I had a feeling she did not know what sanctimonious meant.

"As is your will, my highness." I dipped my head like a proper servant would. "It shall be expedited."

"Of course."

"Of course."

"Of course."

We went quiet for a minute. Eventually, I cracked, a tiny snicker bashing its way out of my mouth. Its brethren, giggles and chuckles, soon found their way through my lips as well. Weiss fell to the pathogen, too.

Cute giggles left Weiss as a pale hand tried its hardest to quench the horde of laughters. Obviously, the limb failed. "You're—" Weiss was forced to cut herself off as more snickers left her mouth. "You're utterly ridiculous!"

"Insufferable?" I query through laughs.

The white-haired girl bobbed her head. "Completely. Completely and undeniably insufferable." Weiss agreed with me, her words being betrayed by the bright smile marring her cheeks. "What am I to do with you?"

I tap my chin, forcing my face to be fully serious. "Hopefully not execution, your excellency."

"Because that would be…so terrible." Weiss said plainly.

"Hey!" I squawked in faux-offense. "Please no?"

"Please no?" She mused over my words, humming in consideration. "I think you might have struck a bargain, serf. Very well. No execution today."

"Yay?"

"Yay." She agreed, lips quirked up as cheeks forced a grin down. "But that still does not solve the matter of dealing with you. Perhaps prison?"

"House arrest." I argue back. "I'm much nicer outside of a dungeon. Just look at my handsome face!"

Weiss paused and rolled her eyes as still-grinning cheeks became pinker. "You do make a good point. But how would I go about securing you, hm? Just let you stay in your home? Unsupervised? No, I do not believe that'd work."

"But, M'lady!" I pretended to protest, voice despondent. "I can't just…take root in your room! It's improper."

"Wha—" Weiss choked over her words, furiously blushing. She remained silent and looked away. Did I go too far?

Was flirting with her too much? I…probably should not have done that. I tensed my muscles, ready to reach over and apologize.

Lucky for me, a beet red Weiss turned back to speak, cutting me off from any apology I might've even thought about forming. She was looking at me almost critically. "Give me your Scroll."

"What?" Out of all the things she could've said, that was not it.

"Your Scroll." She repeated, continuing to order me. "Give me it."

Dutifully, I handed Weiss my Scroll. She held it for only a moment before it was given back to me. It had her number in it. My mouth opened in complete shock. "You—?"

Weiss cut me off, her cheeks blaring red. "You will be calling me from now on."

I blinked in confusion.

"Do I need to spell it out for you?" Weiss demanded, almost pouting. At my further blank look, she huffed. "I guess I do…well, as you eloquently said before, I am monopolizing your time."

"Like…" I paused, trying to find an adequate word. My heart beat harshly in my chest as I came to a conclusion. "Like dating?"

"No!" She snapped out reflectively. Then, she went rigid. "I—I mean…"

"Maybe?" I offered, using her wording from earlier. My face felt warm. "I…well, I wouldn't be opposed. You—you've been fun? I enjoyed talking to you. A lot! And you're—"

Pretty, I finished in my head, flushing as I looked away.

"Cool." I weakly concluded instead.

"You're—you're cool too." Weiss replied just as weakly, looking equally as embarrassed as I felt.

"So—so dating?" I repeated from before. We'd just met, but…but isn't that how some people start dating? I'd heard stories of it before, where people just clicked and so started dating when they met.

I couldn't say I wasn't interested.

Weiss frowned, looking down. "Maybe."

"Or not!" I hastily added. "I don't want to pressure you. Friends is great! I'd love to be your friend."

Weiss just kept frowning, staring at the floor below us. Her face was unreadable: I was completely unable to parse anything out from her expression.

"So let's be friends, right?" I continued. I liked talking to her, she'd been fun—smart too, which wasn't common. I didn't want to drive her away because I'd been stupid.

Why did I ask her to date? I'm so stupid!

"I don't know." Weiss finally said, slouching in her seat. She groaned, whining to me. "Why do emotions have to be so complicated? I want to date you. But I don't."

"I think you're pretty." I admit to her. "And I like talking to you."

"Same." She agrees with me. "I think you are…attractive and gregarious; agreeable. But…" Weiss bit her lip, blowing out of her nose. "But it'd be fast. Fast to date this soon, dating right after we met. And—and I'll be in Vale, so we'd have to be courting over a long distance…and the socio-economic disparity…"

This time, I frowned. "Are you trying to dissuade me or yourself?"

Weiss opened her mouth and then closed it. She furrowed her brows, falling into thought. "I don't know." She finally admitted.

"What do you want?"

She sighed, repeating her mantra. "I don't know."

Weiss didn't know a lot. Not that I'd say that, of course.

"So…" I crinkled my forehead. "The issues are…distance, how recently we've met, and the fact I'm…poor?"

"No." Weiss then changed her mind, tilting her head. "I mean…yes? Or—or I guess I don't know."

I stifled a groan, exhaling deeply. "Okay. Well, I'll cover the issues anyways, 'kay?" She bobbed her head in agreement. I continued. "So, speed? We don't know much about each other, which is a fully reasonable concern! I honestly agree with it, slightly. But, well, we could always break up if we end up being incompatible?"

"...okay."

I kept talking. "And the distance isn't too bad? You could call me regularly. And when do you leave?"

"Tommorrow." She glumly replied.

"Tommorrow." I repeated. "Well, that's sooner than I expected? But, um, I guess it'd be encouragement for me to try and develop faster freights for the SDC?"

That garnered a snort from Weiss, a fact that caused me to smile.

"And…the fact I'm poor? Yeah. I have no clue what to say about that." I shrug loosely.

"I do not care that you have less money than me, dummy." Weiss rolled her eyes. "Everyone is poorer than me. No, the issue is my father…Father wouldn't want me to date a plebian—the riffraff, as he calls you people."

"You people?" I dryly question as Weiss blushes in embarrassment. "But I thought your father was born poor? Jacques Gelè, correct?"

"That…is correct." She agrees with me. "Father started poor until he managed to persuade Mother to wed him. I think that is why he hates those beneath our status so much—it reminds him of the fact he wasn't born into wealth."

"That's stupid."

Weiss pursed her lips, not keen to agree with me. "Maybe. But I will not speak ill of my father. Regardless, he would not allow me to date you."

I leaned back in my seat, humming solemnly. "Does your father take merit over lineage?"

"He's fond of lineage." Weiss affirms quickly.

"But, if push comes to shove, does he prefer a person who is competent or a person who comes from a renowned lineage?" I tilt my head curiously.

Weiss hesitated, her forehead crinkling. "I—is there a difference? Those from a strong lineage tend to be competent."

I give her a skeptical glance. "You don't actually believe that, do you?"

"And what if I do?" She crossed her arms, a petulant gaze levied at me.

This time, I actually groaned as I placed my face in my hands. "Weiss. Do you attribute your lovely singing voice to your grandfather?"

A look crossed over her face and she opened her mouth. I quickly cut her off. "No, the answer is no. You are a good singer because of your innate talent that you have cultivated. You spoke history with me before because you wasted your own time reading boring literature. It wasn't shoved into your mind by your ancestors by magic—you did it. So, I better hear you say that your talents are your own, 'kay?"

Weiss looked at me with surprised eyes. "You genuinely mean that?" My words seemed to have put her in a surprisingly vulnerable state. "You actually believe I'm talented because I'm…me? Not because I'm a Schnee? That's ridiculous."

She spoke like she was saying something, well, ridiculous. It made me mad. Not at her, but at whoever had been telling her that all of her skills, talents, and everything she was good at came from others. "You're a Schnee. It's part of you. But I don't see your father singing like an angel, do I? Or your sister being a famous dancer, hm? Is your brother a fan of history? Your mother fond of fighting? No? Well, then, I guess it all is innate to you, Weiss. A talented girl who also is a Schnee."

We remained silent for a second and I felt like I'd overspoke. I barely knew her. She barely knew me. And yet…yet we are talking so intimately.

Weiss brushed a hand over her face, and I just barely made out a glistening light at the edge of Weiss's eyes. "Thank you." She breathed out, staring at me. "And it is merit."

"W—what?" I gave her a confused glance.

Weiss had a self-conscious look on her face. She looked conflicted, like she was trying to decide on something. Then, unexpectedly, her arms loosely wrapped around me as she moved forward far faster than I thought she could. "My father—he would take merit. Or he will."

I robotically sat there, shocked as she hugged me. Weiss didn't strike me as a hugger. I wasn't much of one. But…it felt right. So, almost against my will, my arms moved around her into a hug. It wasn't much of a hug, partial at best. But…it was something.

Only seconds—or minutes? Hours?—later did she pull back from the hug. It had felt nice. I met her eyes. They looked pretty, I thought dumbly. Like diamonds.

I wanted to steal them.

Weiss, coming to some kind of conclusion, firmly poked me in the chest. Even as she stood in front of where I sat, she wasn't much taller than my seated self. "Mine."

"Yours?" I quizzically said, almost completely baffled by the change in demeanor.

Weiss's lips moved into a tiny smirk. "I am choosing you as mine. Be grateful, you foolish pauper."

"And that is a two way street, hmm?" I go along with her prose. "I am your serf and you are my villein?"

"Bound to a fief, yes." She playful agreed.

I nod. "Ah. Interesting. And who is the lord of this fief?"

"Us." She determined for me. "So, you dolt, I suppose we are dating."

My grin could not have been brighter. "Indubitably.'"

"Indubitably indeed." She blandly said, snorting at my phrasing. Then, she rubbed a hand on my face. "Also, it is about time you removed this oil off of your face. It really does make you look like a peon."

I squawked. "What!?"

"Yes." She smiled cheekily at me. "You make for a cute plebeian."

I folded in on myself, sulking. I had been flirting with oil on my face. I had been flirting with the richest girl in the world with oil on my face.

At least I make for a cute plebeian.

---

AN: I am fully confident Weiss is a history nerd. I mean, did you see how she gushed about the Vytal Festival? That's the kind of gushing over culture that you'd only see from someone who loves history.

Anyways, criticism always allowed. Especially if my characterization is off.

Umm...I guess I'll make this into a series if anyone wants it? Idk.