Coal Burgundy shifted, gloved hand flexing on his belt's crest-buckle-the wolf-sword bisect catching a stray beam. His dark eyes scanned the office with quiet interest, though the faint tension in his posture suggested he was already half-done with the formalities.
"So," Ozpin began, reviewing the dossier of the rogue Huntsman, "you tracked Harlan alone?"
Coal tilted his hat slightly. "Yeah. Standard bounty procedure. A few traps, some careful planning. Didn't need anyone else slowing me down." His tone was deadpan, but precise, almost clinical.
Ozpin's mind quietly ticked. Strong, independent, resourceful... methodical. Slightly reckless, but capable of thinking on the fly. He made a mental note of Coal's posture, his sparse but precise gestures, the way his eyes moved. Traits he'd seen in a certain bloodline long ago. Many centuries ago, but unmistakable: confidence bordering on arrogance, obsessive attention to detail, and a subtle fanatical streak.
"It would appear that Harlan's capture was... tidy," Ozpin said aloud, voice like a warm blanket that smoothed the edges of scrutiny, leaning back as if appraising a fine scroll rather than a cracked, smoldering insignia. He tapped the pouch once, the cracked emerald shield within glinting mockingly. "Most bounty-hunters that I've come across like to gloat their skills. The dramatic standoff, the narrow escape. But you appear to be more..grounded. Straight to the lien. Admirable restraint." Ozpin looked over to Glynda, giving a slight nod, "Fifty thousand, as posted. Glynda will wire it underway." The deputy headmistress, who lingered by the elevator like a sentinel, looks at the both of them and nods, her tablet humming with transaction codes as she walks away.
Coal grunts. "Showing off your skills prematurely gets you killed," he replied bluntly, grey eyes level under the hat's brim. "The Grimm don't monologue. Neither do bounties. Just the job and its description."
Blunt as a hammer, Ozpin mused, a faint smile ghosting his lips-unseen, but felt in the air's subtle shift. They always did have a knack for being brutishly straightforward. This one's just the same. If I'm right... then it's a gamble worth playing.
"Quite so. And yet, the road has paved the path for your skills. That revolver at your hip, if memory serves this old mind correctly, is a 500 magnum model, if I'm not mistaken."
Coal's resting dead face held, but his stance micro-shifted-weight easing from boot to boot, a tell as subtle as a chambering click. "Ah, this? Family piece. Her name is Rosewood. Fires 275-grain hollow point. 700-grain for tougher hides. One shot does the job."
As he says this, Ozpin's gaze drifted, to the collapsed weapon slung cross-back-peeking from the back, similar to a certain rose. "And what of that contraption? The one folded behind you. Another family weapon? Or something more self-made? Custom, I presume?"
The hook sank true. Coal's eyes lit up faintly, though he tried to keep the deadpan act. "Oh well, this? That's Harvester, sir. Multi-trishape, dust-enhanced melee and ranged. You can't find one like it on the market unless you're... skilled." He tapped Harvester lightly. "It's got a bardiche axe as a base. But, it can also shift to a scythe for the reap. Flamethrower purge on the vents. Fire Dust injectors, compressed. Slim profile for no extra bulk. Efficiency's 92% on a full vial; tested it on a Death Stalker nest last moon. Pivot's smooth as a bad lie; locks without a hitch."
Ozpin's smile widened slightly at the dry enthusiasm, letting him ramble. Coal went on, talking about the engineering behind the mechashift, the dust integration, the versatility, the edge designs - subtle glances toward Ozpin to gauge interest. The conversation, while about weapons, became almost a fanatic in Coal's geek rush.
"Clearly mechashift is the way to go. It's the ultimate tool for any environment! Anyone who relies on a fixed-form weapon in the current day has a clear skill issue and needs to get good or get grimm'd. It's just simple tactical math." Coal caught himself then, fringe shadowing a faint flush under the tan, cough clearing the tangent like gunsmoke. "But, well, that's just my opinion, no harm in the old reliables. No shame, you know?"
The headmaster's chuckle was a low, resonant thing-genuine, laced with the amusement of lifetimes spent prodding sparks to bloom. "Ah," Ozpin said, letting his voice carry a touch of amusement, "I see. I suspect you'd find Beacon to be quite... stimulating, then."
Coal blinked. "Why?"
"The students here each wield weapons of remarkable uniqueness," Ozpin said. "Not many academies allow students such creative freedom. You'd see designs that challenge even your Harvester. Some, I think, would pique your... appreciation."
Coal's brow lifted slightly, caught despite himself. "Oh?"
"Here at Beacon, we host the most unique and innovative young minds in Remnant. The weapons they design are... unconventional. I believe you would be quite interested in seeing a scythe that fires high-velocity rounds, a hammer launching grenade rounds, or perhaps a pair of wrist-mounted
shotgun gauntlets."
Coal's plan of just money and go chipped down with each weapon Ozpin listed off, his resolve slowly falling. Seeing this, Ozpin finishes with off with another piece of bait. "And," Ozpin continued, lightly leaning back, "with the Vytal Festival coming soon, many of these students will be showcasing their weapons in full combat scenarios. Not just training exercises... real-world demonstrations. Not just Beacon, but all of Remnants huntsmen and huntresses trainees, gathering here. That means the best weapons-the best ideas-from all of the four Kingdoms will be on display and in use."
Coal's eyes subtly gleamed, a faint shiver running through him. He shifted slightly, hands brushing against Harvester. "...I... might be interested," he admitted, voice almost reluctant. "Could be... fun to see some of the gear around here."
Ozpin's smile deepened. Good. Curiosity works faster than coercion. "Excellent. In fact," he said, "we have a new position that needs to be filled in, and you'd fit in perfectly."
Coal blinks, "Oh yeah? And what's that?"
Ozpin smiles, "Nothing to difficult for your expertise. A simple adviser role for the students. We'll go into the details later. For now, what do you say, Mr. Burgundy?"
Coal grumbles, adjusting his belt, "Fine. I'll stay only because you said these greenhorns will have promising weaponry. But if I see something stupid like a sword with a gun as its cross guard, I'm demanding insurance."
Ozpin smiles genuinely, "Then we are at an agreement. Wonderful to have you here, Mr. Burgundy." Ozpin nodded inwardly, satisfied. The Burgundy had taken the bait: a small, subtle promise of new weapons, new challenges - enough to lure him into Beacon's orbit. From here, arranging a first encounter with Team RWBY would be simple.