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    1. Lazo 9 yrs ago
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I’ve been talking with @CarbinatedDream about pairing up. Looks like Ricardo will be the Master of Assassin.
Sorry for all the ambiguity. Feel like there are a bunch of Master characters hovering in a state between existence and non-existence because of my indecision.

I'll have a decision ready tomorrow. I'll PM someone then and hopefully figure something out.
Okay, talked some with Crimmy and I changed the second Joker in the set after he told me an AoE magic negate was a no-go. A bit sad about that. Could have developed into some fun stuff if it also interfered with Command Spells, but that's that.

I don't really know about which servant to go with. Can't have details on them before being paired without spoiling part of the game for me after all. I guess making a Berserker could be an option now, but I kind of like the idea of playing as partner with another player. Plus, the traditionally violently insane Berserker could be kind of boring to play, so I may need some time to think of a good twist that may play well with this character if it looks like I need to go that way.

@Reflection, you said you're working on a Master character. Would you prefer to have your own, or would you prefer another player to play that part? Same question to @Burst and @CarbinatedDream, actually.
I'm gonna expose myself and say that I don't recall watching or reading of stuff that shut off circuits in Fate (unless we count a certain Shroud in HF), but I've mostly stuck to the original VN, ataraxia and extra. The idea was to have a key component to explain the potency of the Jokers (and explain why they are so 'irreplaceable'), but I didn't have anything specific to this series in mind for the second one.

I was originally working off the idea of Otataral, an ore in a different setting, and the explanation I had planned for that one if asked IC was mostly to reference that as a nod to that series, the use of a rare, poorly understood mineral that had the strange property of negating magic. It is implied that it did this by eating it, as though magical energy just suddenly slipped into a black hole when activated under its area of influence. In that particular setting that ore could have long-term, sometimes permanent effects on people who were exposed to it (such as by rubbing Otataral dust over their bodies), the most typical of which was the person acquiring the same magic-deadening properties as the ore.

Now, because I don't want to permanently cripple all the mages in a setting by blowing dust on them, let's assume this is a made-up version for convenience and say any effects of a device taking advantage of this are only temporary.
@XmasForJuan No worries. I was actually curious about how people would react to the Jokers. They are supposed to be wild cards that could drastically upset a given situation, but getting them to be useful to that degree without being absurdly busted took some thinking. I am willing to listen if you think they need further adjustments though.
@Darked13 All g. Also hit us up with your WIP if you've got one.

@Lazo Chuck your master profile in here to find a pal.


Okay. Here is the character I submitted, a Spaniard mage from a declining noble family.


It looks like Master profiles won't be kept secret like Servant profiles, so go ahead and take a look. From what I understand, Saber (@XmasForJuan), Lancer (@Reflection), Rider (@Burst) or Assassin (@CarbinatedDream) could use a Master. If any of you think your own character could play well off a character like this, let me know.
I am interested in playing a Master. Humming and hawing because of time constraints, but I've been wanting to play on a Fate RP for so long I'll probably end up going for it. Is there room for more?
“Unbelievable. Who do they think they are?”

A woman angrily strode down the city’s streets, occasionally slipping through into the alleyways, pausing occasionally to glance behind her. She blended in with the occasional group of people when she found them – the working members of the hunting organizations and the few locals that remained outside given the recent influx of less than agreeable tourists – but the white labcoat and the knapsack she wore on her back set her apart even before one got close enough to listen to her grouchy muttering.

“Telling me to stay put while all of this is happening. ‘You must stay in the hotel until the labs are set up, ma’am. Wait with the rest of the science crews, ma’am. Don’t try to talk to the angels, ma’am.’ Treating me like I’m some kind of… security risk after all this time.”

Some might say that she was skulking, sneaking where she might not be seen, but such observations would be wrong on all accounts. She strode – proudly at that – not skulked. Skulking was something those of sketchy morals and poor intentions did, and hers was a character as upstanding as any other.

“Doctor Kipper!”

A choking noise left the woman’s throat and she pressed herself against the alley wall. She blew at her black hair annoyedly as a stray lock fell over one of her eyes.

From further ahead, the call repeated itself. “Doctor, we don’t have time for this!” The shout was followed by the telltale murmuring of conversation. Frustrated conversation at that.

“Oh, are they annoyed at me? How rude of them.”

“Did you hear that?”

“Gah.”

The woman sucked a breath and began to retreat back into the alley. Of course, that was when another shout came from the alley mouth she had turned to. “Doctor Kipper! Where the hell did that woman get to this time?”

Cursing her luck, the good doctor glanced at her surroundings, searching for impromptu escape routes. Her eyes happened to alight on the wall she had been pressing herself against. The wall did not belong to a building proper, but rather separated the back-end of a large building from the rest of block, likely fencing off a garden or pool. It was just high enough that she thought she could scale it given the circumstances.
She pulled her knapsack off her back and swung it over the fence wall. The next moment she had jumped and grasped the top of the wall, pulling herself upwards with quickness that either revealed surprising strength or an alarmingly light body. Such was her hurry that she just about bowled over once she reached the top.

The clumsy fall was thankfully cushioned by a soft bed of grass below. The doctor shuffled forward on all fours, grabbing onto her fallen bag before she paused to listen. With satisfaction, she noted the sounds of voices falling farther and farther out of her range of hearing.

Smiling brightly, she adjusted her spectacles, which now dangled loosely on the tip of her nose from the fall, and turned to look for the exit.

Of course, it was only when she turned to face the other way that she came face to face with the secluded garden’s other occupant.

“Gah,” she choked out again at the sight of the hulking, black-scaled monster that stared back at her.

The creature shifted, turning its bulk to face her. The light played over the thick chains wrapped around its arms, jostling something deep in her memory, but her more immediate concerns lied on the canine grin the creature showed her.

She knew what it was, of course. The large, brutish arms capped with clawed hands, its lupine features, and the fur that covered its extremities, wisps of fire flitting over its surface made it plain as day. The skein of scars was typical as well, even if denser than she had seen before. It wasn’t the first time she laid eyes on a Hellhound – she had even spoken to some for crying out loud.

But since when do they grow that large!?

She jumped to her feet, holding her knapsack before her in a futile warding gesture. Stay calm, stay calm. Oh, would those officers hear me if I scream bloody murder right now? Ah, but that might upset the friendly dog here. See, he hasn’t pounced yet. He’s just curious, curious is all. No need to panic.

The hound let out a low snarl, taking a step forward. She matched it with a nervous smile and a step backwards.

“W-Why, uhm, greetings, friend!” she said, putting on her brightest smile while wide eyes scanned the surroundings for an escape. “I assure you it wasn’t my intention to disturb your sunbathing, o-or whatever you might have been doing out here.” There was the back door into the building itself, but that would require her to run past the hound. Beyond that, she could try scaling the wall again, but that choice was…

Another growl-like grunt and another step closer interrupted her train of thought. “Please don’t eat me. That would be a problem,” she said lamely.

The hound ceased its approach. Its head rose, nose wrinkling as though something offensive reached its nose. She could not find it in herself to be offended by that. Then it spoke in a deep rumble, a sound like crumbling stone.

“You would not make for a filling meal.”

“Ah,” she gasped, the relief almost making her drop her makeshift shield. She barely caught herself, hugging her bag tightly. “I am certainly glad I’m not up to your standards.”

The hound grunted. “Yet you would not flee.”

“Would you have let me?”

The beast rolled its shoulders in a ponderous shrug. “It is bad form to take another’s quarry.”

She frowned. “A-another? But…” She wondered where that statement had come from. Ah, though I suppose I am being ‘pursued’. Is that how it sounded to him? That would mean the answer was a simple no.

He could have just said that.

In the moment it took her to make the connection, the hound had already stepped away, returning to where it had been lounging. She was more than glad to have some distance between her and the beast’s looming presence. Even when lying down, the hound’s head could meet her at eye-level. “Take your flight somewhere else, then,” it said.

Well that was that then. How fortunate was it that the one towering monster she had disturbed wanted nothing to do with her? On hindsight, perhaps she had taken too many liberties in her latest foray away from her working quarters. It would certainly be in her best interests to return before anything else happened.

This had been a good reality check, in a way.

Yet… now that her heartrate had slowed, she found curiosity overwhelming her concern. This is a very rare opportunity, after all.

“If I may ask… what clan did you come from?”

The hound’s gaze immediately focused on her, slitted eyes holding hers with a coldness that made her limbs shiver. Its gaze bore down on her with nary a sound, yet this kind of attention scared her, yet the gesture scared her more than the previous, snarling approach. She was all too aware of the reason. A beast’s growls and barks were warning signs, a message to trespassers and threats to leave or heel. It was a form of communication.

Yet there is no need to communicate with prey. A lone predator will stalk and kill in utter silence.

She found her lips curling into a disarming smile. “Ah, apologies,” she said past a parched throat. “I let my curiosity get the better of me. It’s simply that ever since Belial of the Fire Hell was dispatched you barely see any other Hellhounds. I imagine you came with Gomory?”

The hound continued to stare at her searchingly for a few more moments before the edge began to bleed from his eyes – and, she noted, the tension from his body. Finally, he grunted. “Hell’s recruiter and I have not had the misfortune of crossing paths.”

“No?” She hugged her bag tighter, thinking. “It would be amazing if you came with the Angels, but that’s more than unlikely, and I would have heard if there was a Hellhound working with Gilgamesh or the Demon Hunters. Which leaves—”

“—the Charred Council,” he finished for her. The dog scowled, as if displeased. “Accurate enough.”

Once again, she found herself mildly puzzled over his wording. Accurate enough, but not entirely? “What does that mean?”

“Enough.” He grunted wearily. “What do you seek from me, cadger? You may know of my kind, but I have no interest in discussing how I came to be here.”

“Cadger? I’m not a beggar.”

“You have yet to prove otherwise.”

He’s not wrong there, is he? “Right, where are my manners. I’m Samantha. Doctor Samantha Kipper, a researcher with Gilgamesh.”

“Humans take in your ilk?” The hound asked slowly.

Good nose. Her smile wavered before it reaffirmed itself over her features. The dog was poking at her. “Apparently!” she said happily, before she added. “Knowledge can open doors wherever you go. Now, you see, my work is one thing, but I have also taken to recording the events since the destruction of the first seal. Considering how this may well lead to the end of this realm, it felt important to have an account of what led to it.”

The hound let out a slow breath. “Why do you think this worthwhile?”

Samantha was thrilled to hear him ask. The hound may have been affecting disinterest, but the fact that he had not shooed her away spoke volumes.

“It’s an amazing chance to learn of, course! Already we have data on a mystery Demon with powers we don’t comprehend, and new Nephilim have been appearing left and right! They were supposed to be extinct! Well, expect for you know who…” she coughed lightly against her knapsack, recomposing herself. “There is also the historical value of such an account. Perhaps it will prevent certain world-ending mistakes if someone reads them later on.”

“You must know, cadger. Those who should read such accounts, never do.”

Samantha frowned. There had been a surprising bitterness to that remark. Also, that nickname is not going away, is it. “Perhaps. Still, there is value in history. In a world’s memory.”

The hound’s reply was silence. Not the kind of murderous quiet he had exhibited earlier, but rather the kind that made her feel the hound had held back another comment. It unsettled her. This was not the behavior she had come to expect from this one’s brutish ilk.

“In any case,” she said. “Even though I’ve been trying to record what is happening, my responsibilities tend to keep me away so I only learn what happened after the fact. Even today I had to stay behind at the lab while the meeting was conducted. Even though I helped make those graphs,” she added with some annoyance. “So a lot of what I write down is things I have been told by others.”

“You wish to ask me about what happened today?” The hound scoffed. “Find another. I am not needed for such a thing.”

“Oh, no need to worry about that. I got the details about what happened from my co-workers.” She gave him a conspirational smile. “That said, you are with the Council, aren’t you? You could have insights I couldn’t get from anywhere else. I want to ask about your take on this alliance um…” she trailed off. “What should I call you?”

The hound scowled. He lifted an arm from the ground, looking down at his clawed hand as though searching for something. “Fenn.”

What, did he write it on his paw or something? Still, there it was again, that niggling sense of recognition at the back of her mind. Where had she heard that name before? “Fenn,” she repeated. “Your collaboration would be invaluable. If you speak with me, I’ll be sure to make it up to you somehow.”

“You are vague,” the hound rumbled. “Yet fortunate. Aye. If you truly wish to preserve this moment, I would speak.”

“Perfect!” she exclaimed, elated. Trying to keep calm so she would not startle the beast, she reached into her bag and pulled out a notebook and a pen. “I assume you don’t mind if I take notes?”

“So be it.”

“Good,” she said as she lowered her bag to the ground to free her hands. “We have an interview going, then. Let’s start from the top. What are your thoughts on this alliance?”

“Alliance,” the hound spat with displeasure, “is too generous a word for this convergence. Expedience governs the joining of forces. By that same token, expedience will govern their parting. It shall be… violent.”

“It is true that Heaven and Hell have been at odds for eons, with this realm caught in the middle. Still, the forces here have expressed a desire to protect the seals.”

“Truly? That begs the question, then. Why have they not cooperated from the beginning?”

Samantha blinked at the odd question. “Why, it would be an issue of trust, would it not?”

“Yet such issues were put aside when unexpected forces joined the conflict. The snake and”—the hound’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly—“the False Riders. It occurs to me, that this is not a matter of protecting the seals, but rather controlling them. A war waged with these places as the key territories. However, the designs of this new enemy run counter to that.”

“You think trust was never the issue, but rather that they have been waging their own war since the beginning?” Even as she said that, Samantha felt that she had said something idiotic. She was speaking of Heaven and Hell. Of course they were warring between each other.

Fenn, however, did not call her out on it. Rather, he frowned, as though the words were in fact worth contemplating. “Would it not be convenient,” he said slowly, “to keep this realm in this state? Such that it may be interfered with directly?”

Her hand paused from its dance over the paper. It was a concerning thought. Concerning in its deviousness, which could be easily attributed to Mundus and the like. Would the commander of the heavenly host also think in such terms, however? She had not been expecting conspiracy theories when she had asked to speak with this Hellhound.

“I see,” she said. “Let’s be more specific now. What are your thoughts on the parties involved in this agreement? Let’s start with Gomory.”

“I have only seen Hell’s Recruiter from afar, cadger. It is difficult to say.” Fenn huffed. “She appears loyal to the Prince of the Underworld, however. It may be safe to assume her intentions are his intentions.” He narrowed his eyes. “However, intentions change.”

“What do you mean?”

“Bringing about the End War had never been the demon prince’s intention, preoccupied as he was the domination of the realm of man over its destruction. I am inclined to agree, given what I have seen and heard thus far. However, whatever initial plans he had in store were likely scattered by the destruction of the first two seals.

“Though the most well-known to this realm, he is not the only power within Hell. The ancient call of a burgeoning apocalypse has brought forth many of the Underworld’s inhabitants, ones he does not truly hold authority over. With the forces of Heaven responding to these incursions, it is not an option for him to abstain from this conflict.”

Samantha nodded. “You feel he has been dragged into this unwillingly.”

“Does the Prince seek to salvage the situation by preventing the destruction of the last seals? If more seals are lost, will he choose to destroy the last barriers between this world and calamity, to eke out Hell’s ultimate victory over Heaven? Does the Prince hold secret designs to bring about his desired end, or has he fallen to reactionary tactics, struggling merely to wrap his mind around the new players that have entered the battlefield?

“This sham of a truce makes me lean towards the latter.” A grunt. “I feel… ambivalence. We shall see if the Prince’s Hand is to be trusted.”

“What about the Angels that joined us? What about Kushiel?”

Fenn bared his teeth in something halfway between a smile and a snarl. “That one I have crossed path with twice. Twice we have tried to kill each other, though I believe he only recalls the latter. The little prince knows the face of his true enemy, cadger, and it is not the one we came to defeat. He has already sought to kill Council agents to claim a seal for his lord. The blame for the previous seal’s destruction lays at his feet.”

Fenn was supposedly working with the Council, so perhaps it should have been expected that he had a firsthand account of what had happened at the site of the last seal to be destroyed, but she still found herself surprised by the news. Surely there was more to be said about the bold claim the hound had given her, but she did not want the discussion to go on a tangent.

“He did say he would continue his task on this realm once this partnership was finished,” she pointed out.

“Task.” The hound let out a slow, venomous laugh. “I fear that in his zeal, that one may attempt to do as his lord wills before the task is given. With the assumption, of course, that the will of his lord and the will he expects from his lord are one and the same. Which begs the question, would he assume correctly?”

“You hope he betrays Him on accident.”

“No. I wish to see the choice of the soldiers who follow him, should such a thing happen. Would they awaken to the distinction in the end? Follow blindly, or turn against him? I wish to see the answer they present.”

“But why?”

The hound shook his head. “One should not justify desires, Cadger. You only draw eyes to the reasons’ obvious absence.”

Which she supposed was a convoluted way of saying he had no real reason to wish misfortune upon them, he simply did.

She hummed in quiet acceptance, deciding to move on. “How about the human organizations gathered here? Any thoughts regarding them?”

“None. You shall find it a common stance. Those they have agreed to work with care nothing for humanity’s fate.” He sniffed. “Ah, but I will amend myself. If they do, they care not for its freedom. If you wish to ask me of the groups in this island, I suspect you would know more. All I have seen of them have been the weaklings sent after me in the city of the second seal.”

Samantha made a note of that. Demon Hunters after demons in Barlour City. She would have to corroborate that piece of information with their liaison.

“What do you know about the demon, Vega? He is the one destroying the seals, so he must be the main focus of the Council.”

The hound shrugged. “It is as you say. It is all there is to say. The snake’s ultimate goal is irrelevant to all gathered here, but his methods have marked him as the enemy.” He scowled. “I shall face him yet.”

“The false Riders must have also triggered alarm bells for the Council? Do you have any ideas what they seek?”

“No.”

“None at all?”

Fenn’s brows furrowed. “Twice have they been sighted. Twice was I among the party that met them.”

The sound of scribbling intensified. It struck her again how fortunate she had been to find this resource.

“It is… unclear, whether they act with a single purpose, or if separate factions exist among them. The first allowed the seal to be taken. The second enabled its destruction” He gave her a sidelong glance. “I failed to take the second’s life. I shall not fail again.”

He went as far as to battle one of them? “What makes you so sure you’ll succeed the next time?” she asked.

“I was at death’s door when the battle started, cadger.”

“Ah.” She replied simply, her eyes flitting to the numerous scars covering his body. “You look all better now.”

He grunted.

“There is only one group left to discuss, then. What can you tell me about the Council’s involvement?” she finally asked, holding her pen expectantly.

Fenn, however, merely stared at her. Where before he had eagerly gone into a tirade for each question, now he simply eyed her silently.

“Um, can you tel—”

“The Council presents its own conundrum.” The hound interrupted, an oddly neutral cast to his tone. “Do you know when the Council gained the agents you see gathered here?”

“What?” she said, taken aback by the initiative being wrested from her so suddenly. “No! Shouldn’t I be asking that to y—”

“Do you know how many Seals of the Apocalypse they have come across? Where they have found them? Who sent for their recovery?”

“N-no, but—”

“Do you know where the true Riders of the Apocalypse are? Why it is us here, and not them?”

Mutely, she shook her head.

“Then you must bring these questions to others. Those who bear the mark of the Council.” The hound’s head drooped, resting it over his arms. “Begone now,” he rumbled.

Dimly, Samantha realized she had been dismissed. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again, hummed, and bent to pick up her bag. Silently, she stuffed her writing material inside and brought it over her shoulder.

A hop and a wiggle over the wall later and she was back on the streets. One of the Gilgamesh employees noticed her then, and she looked on as the man rushed towards her.

Her mind was still going over the last few moments she had spent with Fenn. He gave me homework. Homework! Below that thought was another, more unsettling one. The hound could have given an answer to those questions, yet he insisted the questions be brought to others.

Had she been tasked with delivering a message? This she wondered as the security staff led her back to her quarters.

Sand sat at one of the terminals at the CCT center, off at a slightly more isolated corner among the rows and rows of communication stations. When the screen fizzled to life, a secretary greeted her, thanking her for being there in such short notice.

“Sand Vespa, is that right?” she said, reading out her name from a screen just out of view.

“Yes,” she answered simply.

“Give me a moment to forward you.”

Sand nodded, and the CCT standby screen appeared.

Hiding a small grimace, she looked down at herself. After the repeated workouts from that day, she had taken the chance to return to the team’s room for a shower. She had replaced her usual clothes with a more casual attire consisting of blue jeans still fastened by her thick belt, a short-sleeved yellow blouse, and sneakers. Short in time as she had been, she had foregone drying her hair and had simply pulled it up into a messy tail.

Maybe too casual.

Her fingers tapped restlessly against her leg, trying to work some of the nerves out of her system.

“There you are, Vespa.”

She straightened her posture.

The moment the face appeared on her screen, the words came out from the speakers. The man behind the screen must have been in his mid-forties, sporting a trimmed beard and short, dark hair that framed his sharp features. A pair of squarish spectacles sat on the bridge of his nose, reflecting the light of the monitor in such a way that it was difficult to make out his eyes.

It did not particularly matter, in any case. She had seen enough of Doctor Richard Gamboge while she had been doing work as his research assistant in Atlas to know that the scientist was not pleased.

“Is there anything I can help you with, Professor?” Sand asked, affecting cordiality even if she herself was not particularly thrilled to be holding this meeting. “I already sent all the data from my last outing to you. I assumed a debriefing wouldn’t be necessary.”

“I did receive your data,” he scoffed. “What little there is of it. I expected a lot more from you, Vespa. Do you not understand that we had a chance to examine technology that could affect Grimm movements throughout Remnant? The findings could have completely changed the way we interact with these creatures. Now that it’s in the hands of Vale, the results of the research conducted in Fort Jaeger may well be buried forever.”

Sand recalled the Grimm that still prowled the grounds of the fort, long after the experiments performed there had called horde upon horde of monsters until the whole structure had been overrun, the vast majority of its inhabitants and defenders slaughtered. “That might be for the best,” she commented.

The man shook his head grimly. “I truly hope that is not what the people in charge of studying what remained in the fort come to think. Such is the kind of short-sighted thinking that prevents us from learning from our past mistakes.”

Sand leaned back, sighing. Even if she had her doubts that the doctor’s intentions were as pure as he purported, he was not wrong. From what she had gleaned from his explanations and from what she had seen at the fort, the main goal of the research had been to draw Grimm away from settled areas. Had it worked as intended, the world might have been a very different place.

Nonetheless, she could not give him the last word. “I thought I would just let this lie, but seeing as we’re having this conversation, I might as well. Professor, there were a lot more Grimm in that fort than your briefing suggested.”

“That is not a question. If you simply want to give me excuses, I believe there are enough of those in your report.”

Sand ignored him. “It’s rather suspicious when you consider I also happened to run into a team of Huntsmen while I was there. You told me you were sending me to the fort because the Grimm population had dwindled to a manageable level, but that was a half-truth at best, wasn’t it? The real reason you sent me there with the place still swarming was because you caught wind that plans to retake Fort Jaeger were being put in place and you realized you wouldn’t get a better shot at the tech inside.”

The man grunted. “Watch your tone, Vespa. I have better things to do than gambling with a student’s life. I certainly was not the one who insisted you go alone.”

Sand bit her tongue. Turning it into a solo mission had indeed been her idea, something she had justified to the Professor after the fact by claiming she could move undetected more easily that way. Now, she was not certain she would have been able to do much within the fortress had she not ran into Robert and his team.

“In any case, that is not why I am contacting you,” the man continued.

Sand blinked, surprised and a little wary. What else is there to talk about?

“There is another Atlas transfer that should have arrived at Beacon the same day you did. He goes by the name of Jericho Dylan Piper.”

Ah, right. That was that oddball’s name.

Sand nodded along, already well-aware of this. She had thought his appearance at Beacon a funny coincidence, but having the Professor bring it up quickly roused her suspicion.

“What does that have to do with me?” she asked. “Heart-warming as it would be, I don’t imagine you’re pointing it out because you’re worried I’d feel lonely without familiar faces around.”

The man’s brows knitted over his spectacles. “Where do you even get these ideas? No, of course not. The student in question is in possession of experimental Atlas assets—”

“—and you want me to keep tabs on him?” Sand finished his sentence.

“Precisely.”

She leaned forward, massaging her forehead with a hand. This all sounded extremely shady. More than that, things like these are precisely the reason why I transferred out of Atlas. That made another thought occur to her, one she did not much want to consider. Nonetheless, she had to ask.

“Professor… is this the reason why my transfer was approved?”

The man waved a hand. “Nonsense. That paranoia of yours is really quite something, Vespa, but as much as I would like to claim otherwise, I assure you the timing of your transfer was nothing but a fortunate coincidence.”

Sand allowed herself a breath of relief. Of course, just a coincidence. When you look too deep into anything you start seeing conspiracies everywhere. “And the fact that I was suddenly named team leader had nothing to do with this, then.”

“Ozpin took that suggestion? Interesting.”

Sand felt like an ice cube had been dropped down her neckline. “What?”

“Either way, your transfer was well underway by the time I put your name forth for this role.”

“Wait.” Sand held a hand up, trying to keep the man from moving away from the subject entirely. “How much does Beacon’s Headmaster know about this?”

“Yes, well.” He cleared his throat, clearly irritated by the interruption. “As far as I have been given to understand, Ozpin is fully cognizant of this Piper’s… peculiarities. As for the true purpose of your transfer, there should not be anything linking you directly to the other student, but I imagine he has come to his own conclusions after seeing you.”

Sand had to keep herself from gaping at the screen, so amazed was she by what she had just heard. She felt her teeth begin to grind despite herself. “’The true purpose of my transfer?’ I had no hidden motives for coming here, and I’d prefer you didn’t imply as much. What did you just get me into? That last mission was supposed to be my last task as your assistant. There’s no reason for me to go along with this.”

“That much is true,” the man nodded with some reluctance. “This is not coming from me, but from people higher in the chain of command. You should therefore believe me when I say you would be insane to pass this up. You would be remunerated for your service, not to mention it would be the perfect chance to get your name out to some influential people here at Atlas. If you refuse, someone else will simply be sent in your place.”

“I don’t even remember seeing Jericho in your lab. If you are not involved, why are you trying so hard to force me into this?”

“You were my recommendation, so naturally, if you accept—”

“How much money is involved?”

“I could get my research subsidized for years.”

Sand sighed, falling silent. The man was frustratingly predictable, sometimes. She rested her elbows over the desk and brought her hands together, covering her mouth in an obvious thinking gesture.

This was suspicious. Extremely suspicious, in fact, thanks in no small part to how absurdly shady her former boss was. However, she could not deny that the proposal was interesting. In a way, it would be no more than a part time job she took while she studied, with the potential to net her some important connections later down the line. That was before one considered how curious the whole situation made her. What was so special about Jericho that they needed someone to oversee him?

Her voice was slightly muffled when she spoke again.

“I beg your pardon?”

She lowered her hands. “What would be expected of me if I agreed?”

A smile pulled at the researcher’s lips. “It could not be a simpler job. Largely, your duties would involve keeping watch over the subject. The people in charge seem to want another student’s observations on the Piper’s progress, so yours should prove to be an adequate point of view. Naturally, you are not expected to shadow him every moment of your waking life, as it would likely impair both his, your, and dare I say your new team’s training. It would have been simpler if you could have been assigned to the same team, but that would have been too much of a coincidence, would it not?”

Sand nodded. It was already suspicious enough that the both of them had arrived and began their instruction the same day. “Do my duties end at watching him?”

“No. The subject’s safety is paramount. Atlas has invested a lot on Piper, and it would be one of your duties to defend that investment’s wellbeing.”

“Jericho is a Huntsman-in-training,” Sand drawled. “It’s his job to be in danger.”

The doctor shrugged. “How you perform that duty is up to you. With luck, he will take care of himself on his own and you will never need to step in.”

Sand sighed. “Is there anything else?”

“Yes. Make sure he does not overuse his glove and keeps it in good condition.”

Glove? Are those the assets he mentioned? “Does he know someone will be watching him?”

“I would not be surprised. That said, I would not tell him it is you were I in your shoes, unless you want to trade a relationship between classmates with the relationship of a felon and their parole officer.”

Is it that kind of relationship?”

The man grew silent at that, clearly understanding what she was truly asking. Just as Sand opened her mouth to repeat the question, the doctor spoke. “A lot of his files are confidential. I can get you what the people in charge deem you need to know if you accept their proposal, but not through these channels.”

Just who the hell is this guy? Sand wondered. “Fine. Tell them I’ll do it.”

“Perfect. I’ll be sure to share the good news.”

“But I have some conditions.”

“Conditions?” he repeated, suddenly wary.

“Right. First, I want a paper trail. A proper contract I can sign. Also, I want to speak with someone actually in charge for this. If I find out this is another legally gray plan to try and steal someone else’s research I swear I will fly back to Atlas to personally punt you off the highest cliff I can find.”

“Another!?” he sputtered. “How dare you suggest I have ever been involved in such schemes?”

“Also, quit stalling and deposit the payment for my last month as your assistant. I know you’re hoping I’ll forget.”

The man’s face was so red for a moment it occurred to her he might pop a blood vessel. “I am not—“

“You hired me to get out of an argument about out-of-place budget expenditures in your laboratory, Professor. People in Atlas still think I was the highest-paid teacher assistant in the school. I’ll continue checking my balance in the meantime. Good night.”

With that, the image of the red-faced scientist froze and fizzled away, replaced by the CCT’s standby display.

Sand let out a long breath. She closed her eyes, resting her head in her hands.

Perhaps… I spoke too loosely there. She may have been irritated, but the professor would not forget the way she had acted. Maybe if she called again, she could smooth it over.

No… no. He won’t forgive me, and I’ll simply look like an idiot.

She detested speaking with Dr. Gamboge. To that day she had trouble deciding whether meeting him had been a stroke of luck, or the worst thing that had happened to her since beginning her training as a Huntress. On the one hand, her ties to the man had allowed her to meet some of the key players in the Atlas research labs and had given her experience in the field to put in her resume, but on the other, this was not the first time one of the Professor’s ‘assignments’ had clashed against her sensibilities. It didn’t help that she utterly detested the man’s character.

She still had to decide what she would do about Jericho. If this job required her to keep an eye on him, the first logical thing to do would be to figure out his schedule. Things would be simpler if she befriended him. She could ask directly about things she should know about if that was the case. If she so wished, she could even approach him directly with her given task and deal with it openly. She had been cautioned not to reveal what she was doing to him, but ultimately that decision rested with her.

Sand grimaced. She hated how manipulative the whole thing felt. For her, picking someone with the intent of befriending them was not something that happened often, or easily for that matter. She preferred when those bonds formed naturally, with little extra effort on her part. Thinking of the alternative often filled her with either trepidation, or a pervasive feeling of lethargy, but never before had the prospect of socializing made her feel disgusted with herself.

It seemed circumstance insisted on pushing her out of her comfort zone.

Perhaps I should just put a bug in his room or clothes. Because that is not highly illegal. Not that she knew where she would get that kind of equipment in Beacon in the first place.

In any case, she would need to make some room in her schedule for this. With a grimace, she recalled what she had told Robert before the two had parted ways. Sparring everyday after practice may not be the greatest idea after all.

She produced her Scroll, thumbing through her newest contacts. She had managed to get ahold of her teammates’ numbers the day before, and soon enough she had brought up Robert’s to the front. She paused, thinking over what she needed to say, before she started typing.

”Hi Robert. Was thinking of a proper schedule for our sparring session. I said everyday after practice, but that is excessive. Fridays are for missions and weekends are for resting. I may not be available other Mondays like today, so we’ll play it by ear. Tuesday, Wednesdays and Thursdays I expect to see you at the Gym after class.”

She eyed what she had written for a few seconds, hesitated, then continued typing.

”You got an assignment this week. You have to find someone and ask them to help you better some aspect of yourself. You need to find yourself some mentors. Next week I’ll ask you if you did it, and if you have no stories for me, we’re training without our auras.”

Send.

Sand closed her eyes and leaned back on her chair. Part of her wondered what had possessed her to make that last demand. She certainly would have found it extremely irritating if someone else randomly decided to dump homework on her.

Case in point, in fact.

Then again, this and that were hardly the same.

Maybe the idea of being in a leadership role was getting to her, but now that she had been named team leader, wanting to do it right was a given. Pushing Robert to better himself was for his and the team’s benefit, she was confident in that. Her eyes opened a sliver. I just hope the others don’t think I’m playing favorites.

The thought struck a sour chord within her, and she looked down at the Scroll still in her hand. She pulled up the addresses of all her teammates and wrote an additional message.

“Heading out to Vale for dinner a bit later. Maybe the team can go together. Join me?”

Satisfied, she sent the text and finally stood to leave.

@Guess Who@Awesomoman64@Plank Sinatra

As the class finally came to an end and winded students began to leave the training field, a blonde head glided through the crowd. It moved without aim at first, exploring the throng of bobbing heads until it came close to a red one, then promptly made a beeline towards it.

There were many thoughts and budding worries Sand had been stewing on for the better part of that day, and near half of those were related to the red-headed boy.

“Hmm… What to do, what to do, what to do?” Robert asked himself aloud as he thought about his after school plans. Those plans including: Nothing and jack squat. He’d been in such a grumpy mood all morning that, now that he had gotten over all that boiled up angst, the redhead had realized that at no point had he considered how he would spend his free time. “Definitely don’t feel like being alone right now. Kinda want to hang out with someone. But who’d want to to do that on such short notice?”

“Robert.” Sand’s hand fell on the his shoulder, drawing him to the side so that they could talk. “Are you done for the day?”

Almost as if she had been reading his thoughts, one of his teammates suddenly appeared to grab his attention. Robert almost jumped as he felt a hand suddenly rest on his shoulder, bringing him out of his head and back to the real world. “Oh, hey Sand.”

“Are you done for the day?”

“Yeah, I don’t have anything planned. What’s up?”

“Good. I’m glad I caught you before you ran off,” she said, then hesitated. The girl took a glance at her surroundings, her eyes resting on the other students with a hint of displeasure, before seeming to come to a decision. Tugging on the duffel bag strapped over her shoulder, she said, “I wanted to talk about something, but I’d rather do it somewhere else. Follow me?”

“Uh, sure I guess. But can I get a hint as to what it is you want to tell me?” Robert agreed, though he would follow after Sand whether he received an answer or not. He trusted his team leader and whatever she had planned for him. If she thought it was important that it was discussed in a private setting, she’d hear no argument from him.

“A hint?” she echoed as she led him away from the practice grounds. “I guess. Do you consider yourself a good fighter?”

Robert gave the question a few seconds of consideration as the two casually walked through the halls. He couldn’t recall if he had ever even considered the topic since he was accepted into Beacon. At the time, he thought that if they thought he was good enough to join, he must have met their requirements. Now that Sand had asked though? “Hmm. I guess I do think I have room for improvement. I mean I could probably hold my own against a normal person. Compared to our classmates though? Not so much.”

She hummed an affirmative. That was in essence her own assessment of the redhead, and it saved the both of them time if he saw it as well. “That needs to change,” she said simply.

“How are you going to do that?” the boy asked, most naively.

“How indeed,” she mused, refusing to elaborate.

The girl lead the boy through academy’s halls until she reached the room where her school day had essentially started. Opening the door, she peeked inside the gymnasium, gaze hovering over the few people still inside. Most of those who used the facilities outside of class during week days likely did so during the morning, leaving plenty of room to play with.

Sand nodded and pushed her way inside, leading the pair to a relatively open space. She left her bag near a bench and turned to consider Robert. She had thought about what she would say if they got that far, rehearsed the conversation in her head, but getting down to it was a somewhat different matter. “Before settling on anything,” she started, “I’d like to know what we’re working with. What’s your Semblance? We could probably work our way out from there.”

Robert looked a bit embarrassed by this question, scratching the back of his neck as his cheeks turned to a redder tone. “Well you see… I don’t actually know myself. In fact, part of me has wondered if maybe I don’t even have one,” he admitted. Nobody usually asked him outright and it wasn’t something that you’d just go about your day bragging about, so the boy wasn’t completely comfortable admitting his lack of knowledge about his own abilities.

“No Semblance?” she repeated, eyes widening imperceptibly. Why, that was only half her plans out the window. “Are you serious? Not even a clue about it?”

“Yeah, I’m serious. I really, really haven’t got a clue. For all I know, it’s something stupid like ‘the ability to have bad vision so I must wear glasses’ or ‘the ability to be born a ginger and not have a soul.’ That would be just my luck.”

Her first instinct was to ask how he had even been accepted to the academy in such conditions, but she forced herself to swallow that impulse. Even she realized that would only serve to demoralize her teammate.

“You know that’s not how it works.” Still, she needed to know more. “But now I have to ask. Did you have any formal combat training before Beacon?”

“... Define the word ‘formal,’” he replied.

“I see.” And that was all the answer she needed, was it not?

Things were worse than she had suspected, and she had not prepared for him being so far behind the rest of the competition. What did that leave her in this pitch?

After a few moments, Sand sighed exasperatedly, her lips twisting into a grimace.

The truth, she supposed.

“This is a problem.” She brought a hand up to her hair, brushing it back in an effort to put her thoughts in order. “I’m going to be honest with you, Robert. You’re sloppy. I thought so when you threw yourself at an exploding Creeper at the fort, when I saw you fight, and even today in practice. When Ozpin had us switch places, the first thing I realized was that I would have to take you aside to talk about it.”

Robert decided to not say anything about the incident with the Creeper. In all honesty, he had done it less because he was sloppy and more so because he believed that he was holding the others back. At the time, he believed that their lives were worth more than his own. There was nothing good that could come out of telling the truth about that though, especially when he was actually feeling better since then and now would most likely run away than use his body as a shield. The rest of Sand’s evaluation was accurate though. “Yeah, you’re right. I want to be able to carry my own weight on this team too, so it really is probably for the best.”

“What bothers me...” she continued after his interjection, only to trail off.

This was the point she needed to drive home, she realized, but the silliness of what she was doing caught up to her then. What was she doing, acting like a lecturing mother? She found it hard to finish her thought, but at the same time, she was already too committed to the act to back off. “W-what bothers me is that you are not looking to keep up with the rest of the students. If I understand what you’re telling me, you’re looking to catch up! Which means that if I come to you after the first class session of the week asking you if you have time after it, the last thing I want to hear is that you’re free! If you want to start pulling your weight, you’re going to have to start working harder than everyone else, do you understand that?”

“Yeah, I see what you’re saying… But where would I even begin? It sort of feels overwhelming to look at the gap between me and, say, you,” Robert admitted. This wasn’t the first time he had compared himself to his fellow classmates and realized he fell short, but every time in the past his motivation was even closer to the ground than his ability. With Sand now confronting him though, he had no more excuses. He had to try harder or he would never progress.

“Look. You kept up with me at a dead run through dense jungle, while injured, with a pack of howling Grimm on our tail. You can do this, but, like then—” She held up her index finger. “—you need someone to light a fire under your ass.” At that, she pointed at herself with her thumb, struggling to keep the awkwardness out of her voice. “Seeing as I’m riding you about this, I guess that’s my job now. So come on and hit me.”

After hearing that metaphor, Robert looked down behind himself as if searching for something he thought he had dropped earlier. Then the realization hit. “Oh you mean figuratively.” Then as if his mind had only just caught up to what she’d said, he did a double-take. “Wait, you want me to do what?”

“You heard me. From now on you’re my official sparring partner, so act like it.” She tilted her head even as she lowered herself into a relaxed stance. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m team leader now. I get to make unreasonable calls like that.”

“You’re starting to sound more like me,” Robert replied before begrudgingly entering into a defensive stance to protect himself from Sand.

“Then you should know the drill,” she answered dryly to her teammate’s lip. He seemed to prefer letting his opponents have the first strike for some odd reason, but that would not do for what she had in mind. She made a beckoning gesture. “And turtling up is not what I asked you to do either, Robert. I want to see you move.”

“Uh… Alright, I guess,” the boy said, lowering his defenses and walking up to his team leader. Curling back his fist, Robert sent a weak punch to his opponent’s shoulder. The impact, if it could even be called that, most likely wouldn’t even phase Sand. It did not have a chance to connect either way.

Sand stepped into the half-hearted punch, throwing it off with one arm in the same motion as she pushed hard against Robert’s chest with an open palm. The blow sent him stumbling back.

“What was that?” she asked quickly.

“Er… a punch?” Robert questioned as he quickly recovered from Sand’s palm strike.

“Is that what you’d call it if I was a mugger trying to rob you? No. That’s an embarrassment.” She shook her head and a step back, resuming positions. “Again.”

Robert pulled back his fist again, aiming for the same spot as he had before. By comparison with the last punch, it was an improvement. However, at best it would make her flinch and that would only be if she let herself take the hit. It had the speed, but not the strength behind it.

It showed, as Sand deflected it as simply as the first one. She gave the boy another shove. “Again.”

His frustration showed as Robert ground his teeth. Making another fist, he threw his punch right toward Sand’s stomach, now with all of his strength and speed behind it.

Sand pushed it aside with a shove of her left hand, stepping in closer with the motion. Her right hand flashed upwards, catching Robert’s chin in her grip, and slid her leg behind his leading step. This time, her push tripped the redhead and made him crash forcefully onto his back.

The woman kept walking with the momentum of the motion, bringing her now free hands together in a slow clap. When she looked down at Robert, rather than disappointment, a pleased smile played on her lips.

“Better. Now, can you do that with a cool head?” As she spoke, she offered his hand to him.

“I can definitely give it a try,” Robert returned with his usual friendly smile, reaching out and taking his team leader’s hand to get back up on his feet.

“That’s the spirit.” Simpler than she had expected, too. She had thought she would need to be harsher to get him in the right mindset.

Honestly, it made her wonder if he was simply acting for her benefit.




A long, painful hour later, the two students were a sweaty, bruised mess. Well, only one of the two, for the most part.

After Robert had gotten over his false start, the pair had settled into sparring in earnest, with short breaks in the action whenever Sand felt she had to explain something or correct her partner, or Robert took a particularly nasty fall.

“I don’t think I’ve felt this sore since… Okay well, our last mission, but before that… I think the Practice class the day before that.”

Sand pulled her lips away from her water bottle, offering it to the boy lying on the floor. “You’ll have to get used to it. We’ll be doing this every day after practice from now on.”

The boy happily accepted the water bottle, hovering it above his mouth so it fell into his mouth like a waterfall. Once he’d had his fill, Robert replied, “Yeah, that seems reasonable. It’s not like I go the gym ever either, so this and Survival will hopefully keep me in shape as well.”

She hummed a half-hearted affirmative. She would have hoped the school curriculum in itself would deal with that concern, but pointing that out made little difference.

“So, got any other plans for today?” the boy decided to ask, still lying there on the floor and not bothering to even try and sit up.

“Yeah. Something like that. I’ll head out for that soon.” Sand glanced at her Scroll. She did not seem particularly excited by the prospect, though that was not in and of itself strange for her.

Noticing Sand’s expression, Robert asked, “Something you don’t want to do?”

She shrugged. “Meeting with a professor. It’s fine. Just inconvenient.”

“Ah okay. Well if you need anything, I’m still free for the rest of the afternoon. Just gimme a call.”

“Sure.” Silence settled for a moment after that agreement, interrupted only by the slight shuffle of clothes as Sand leaned forward to take her bottle back. “Robert, where did you learn to fight? You said you had no formal training, but I can tell you’re not really new to it. Did you learn all of it here at Beacon?”

Robert was silent for several moments, long enough that Sand might have mistaken the lack of response to mean he didn’t hear her. Before she could repeat her inquiry though, he finally spoke up. “Well, let’s say that mugger comment from earlier was a bit personal. People can sometimes be really mean, even when you don’t have anything. I had to learn to fight for what little I had or end up losing that too.”

Sand studied him from the corner of her eyes, then nodded slowly, simply taking the information in. “A rough childhood. I’m sorry to hear that,” she told him, and that acknowledgement was as much as she could give on the matter. She had been meaning to broach the subject, but brining undue attention to the matter was the last thing in her mind. “I assume you’ve never had a chance to train with a partner, then. Would explain all your bad habits.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty accurate. What about you? You kicked my butt pretty good. Better than most people at this school probably.”

“There’s not much to say there. Standard combat school fare.” No sooner had she said that did her eyelids droop and the corner of her mouth take a wry turn. “Except I got thrashed often and I’m a sore loser. You could say that’s what lit a fire under me.”

“Who was the one doing the thrashing to you though?” Robert decided to ask, wanting to make sure there wasn’t more to that comment before it was dismissed.

“Most other students during sparring practice, of course. And some I asked for help after-hours. You’d be surprised how many people are willing to teach you if you learn to ask… even if they might still thrash you while they’re at it.” She took a swig from the bottle, the motion almost sheepish. “You need to put blood and sweat into things like these if you want to improve, though.”

She blinked slowly as a thought crossed her mind. “It can be difficult, but if you don’t know how to catch up, you could always ask others. I don’t need to be the only one. If you need help with your marksmanship, or aura control, or geography lessons or what have you, find someone who knows about it. Even if you don’t think they would put the time, you could always ask them about their Semblance. People love to talk about themselves, and maybe that could give you an idea about yours.”

“Hmm. Maybe. It just feels… strange to ask others for help. I’m so used to having to do everything on my own, even trying to push away people who offered me their support because I didn’t want them to get involved with some of the things I was doing. It wasn’t anything too terrible, just pickpocketing and thieving”—Sand’s eyebrows rose at that, but she kept quiet, and Robert was not looking at her in any case, staring off into space instead—“but I still didn’t want to get other people in trouble at the time. Now here I am, back on the straight and narrow, I still have trouble actually gathering the courage to ask others for assistance,” Robert began to ramble, finally sitting up despite still being on the floor of the gym.

“That’s a shame,” she said after a moment, then sighed at her own non-committal response. “I don’t think that’s a bad habit I can fix with a bruising, but I could give it a go. You don’t need a troubled past to be shy about bothering others,” Sand drawled as she rose, pulling her bag from under the bench. “Not today, though. I should be heading out.”

“Alright. Be seeing you then.”

“Right.” Sand rose a hand in a lazy farewell before striding out of the gym, leaving the boy to his own devices.

Robert gave his own wave goodbye, though there was much more energy behind the goodbye than Sand’s, despite how exhausted he felt. With no other plans, the redhead gathered his belongings and began making his way to the cafeteria, looking for a snack to replenish himeself.
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