I dumped my firewood and kindling onto the ground near my lean-to and got to busting it up. I didn't have much in the way of tinder, so I was going to need smaller, drier material to compensate. Stuff that would catch more easily. Building a fire isn't a hard thing, assuming you've got some way to actually strike one. You just need things that'll be more inclined to burn. Or barring that, something you could dip them in that was more liable to catch fire.

My little camp wasn't too far from Beacon. Maybe a five minute walk into the Forever Fall, away from the dorms. Just far enough I didn't need to worry about… issues. I hadn't really needed to set up a lean-to but felt more in the spirit of it after having a small break. And giving my foot a few minutes to get over being steamed.

As if the world wasn't crazy enough, now the fucking floors were made of lava.

Needless to say, I wasn't going back into the dorms. At least until the Physics Police, Fire Blockade Initiative, and Agency for Thermodynamic Fuckery had a run of the place. There were some laws you just didn't want to mess with, and that place broke all of them.

The only upside was that I liked camping, otherwise I'd have to trek my way back to Vale. Then blow money on a hotel room.

Instead, the only thing I had to provide was my own food and entertainment. The forest provided almost everything else. Except a bed. Or clean water. Or meaningful shelter.

Ok, so it didn't actually provide everything, but it gave me the materials.

The lean-to was just to make sure if it started raining, which it would with my luck, I'd have cover. The fire meant I would have a little extra warmth, almost unnecessary in the late summer heat. But it also meant I wouldn't need to trek back to the cafeteria for food.

I fumbled around on my person for a minute trying to find my pockets. There were enough things about the now altered world around me that didn't make sense. Aside from the obvious, that my body had been shrunk and was now perpetually disproportionate.

Like, for example: what I could and couldn't stick into my pockets.

I found the lips of my pocket and drew out my lighter. Which was easily three times the size of my hand. My pocket too. When I got shrunk, did everything else stay the same size? But then why were my clothes fit properly, and why was my head disproportionate?

Just one more thing that didn't make sense, and probably wasn't going to make sense.

Rather than dwell on the existential questions of the universe in the vain hope of enlightenment, I moved on. I opened my lighter with a mechanical *tchunk* and held it to the tinder and kindling for a minute. Once it got going, it immediately shot to the size of a roaring flame, but didn't burn any faster than it should have. It looked funny too, almost static. Like someone had described fire to a blind man, and you got singular and unchanging image of what it was.

I set a kettle near the fire and got to heating it. I was planning to sleep before long, but a bit warm drink would help with that. Maybe the world would go back to normal after I woke up. Barring that, it would at least give me some time to properly dissect things.

As I waited for the water to heat up however, I heard people talking, along with rustle in the bushes. Before I could get up to investigate, I was set upon by a thunder of sound and shattered wood. One of the trees near my campsite had a man sized chunk suddenly burst outward from it. The bushes across from it were instantly riddle with chunks of wood and 'shot.

"No need to be discouraged old chum." A voice said from the bushes near the tree "You know she was just having a bit of fun."

"I know, but it's discouraging." Another voice boomed from the tree. Which was revealed to belong to port, as he stepped through the hole made in the tree "I put in all the effort to try and educate these young men and women, and then get ridiculed for it. The Grimm are but weak and helpless beings compared to the blows I have taken this day."

"You're exaggerating it. Ridicule would've been making fun of your body odor." The voice chimed again, this time stepping from the bushes to reveal Oobleck with some form of camera "Though her comments on your moustache were perhaps too far."

"Do you think I should try a different style?" Port questioned "I've always preferred this style, but…" Port trailed off, as he looked past Oobleck, noticing my presence only a few yards away. Wasn't like I was trying to hide or anything.

"'Sup." I said, giving a small wave.

Oobleck whipped around fast enough I heard his neck crack. His head went a little cockeyed, so it was possible he hurt himself. "Mister Six what are you doing out here?" he rattled

"Camping. Like a man." I said, prodding my fire with a stick "What're you two doing out here?"

"Filming a movie about weapons construction." Port boomed "… Like men."

"Gotcha, gotcha." I nodded "…why?"

"For the Internet." Oobleck said "For the students of the combat schools, who have yet to make one and need guidance."

"I believe your generation calls them How-2's." Port provided.

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"Not my generation, but it's an explanation" I nodded.

"And yourself?" Oobleck asked "Why are you out here?"

"The floor is lava." I answered "Until the dorms stop knotting the laws of reality like a shoelace, I'm not going back there."

Oobleck nodded "Ah yes, I remember those issues. They should correct themselves within a day or so."

I wasn't sure whether to be relieved they would be, perturbed that this was a regular occurrence. Especially considering for the several months I'd been present that was never the case. Someone was clearly having a joke at my expense.

My water started to come up to temperature, and I pulled out a mug. Then thought a moment and pulled out a few more. "Either of you care for a drink? I've got coffee, tea, and cocoa. Also a few cans of beans if either you's hungry."

It wasn't tea, per say. Just a slightly altered version of bitter drink. A couple of the Sorrows showed me how to make it in Zion. It was a rather refreshing beverage, compared to certain other teas. The coffee wasn't particularly special, just some instant stuff I picked up, same with the cocoa.

I actually found I quite liked the cocoa. It didn't give any benefits, but it tasted good.

Port gave me a confused look. "Well I do not believe it appropriate for student and teach-"

Suddenly Oobleck, raised a hand quieting him. "No… let him cook." He then zipped over to the campfire and took a seat at it. "Coffee, you say?"

I held up a packet of it. "It's the instant stuff, but I don't particularly need it right now, I'm planning on-"

Oobleck snatched the packet from my hand and dumped it into a cup. Then poured hot water from the kettle onto it. He set his camera down and began nursing his mug.

"Ahyes,there'sdaddy'slittlehelper." He muttered to himself, sipping his steaming brew "Thank you, mister Six."

"Uh… no problem?" I said, looking over to Port. The mustachioed professor merely shrugged, and came over to join us. He took a seat across the fire from Oobleck, and I passed him a mug. He took a bit of the 'tea' mix, and brew himself a cup, which I thought surprising. Port didn't strike me as a tea drinker, but being around Oobleck, it was either that or feed into his obvious addiction.

"So, you two were filming a tutorial on weapons making?" I asked, putting some cocoa mix into my mug, followed by water "What does that have to do with being out here in the woods?"

"Materials gathering." Port answered glumly "How, to make the best weapon, you need to collect materials from the darkest forests and most treacherous mountains."

"… You force people to literally start from scratch on that stuff?" I asked "You know there's a lot of quality control when it comes to materials right?"

"Naturally." Port nodded "But where's the beauty and challenge in using pre-fabricated materials?"

"… There isn't one." I said "The challenge comes from designing and actually prototyping it, not scouring the woods for the perfect stick to use to clean the thing."

"But then where's the beauty and uniqueness?" Port questioned "There are some things you simply must seek out yourself to make the weapon your own."

"I'd argue that simply being the one who made the weapon makes it unique enough." I countered "If everyone made a sword, even if they were the same style, none of them would truly be the same. That's the kind of thing you only get off a factory line."

"Hmm." Port grumbled, sipping at his 'tea'. He grimaced, probably a bit too bitter.

"… Alright, to be fair I do get the point you're trying to make." I said "The importance of self-reliance and sufficiency, which is really what you're driving at. You want some honest criticism, tone it back a little. You can urge that through your delivery, but if you really want to provide a tutorial, then that should be your focus."

"… I will keep that in mind." Port said, blowing on his beverage "Though I wish we'd had better luck during filming, at any rate. I couldn't even get through the intro before she started mocking me… There's nothing wrong with my moustache."

"Yes, it is impressive and commanding." I agreed, cocking my head to the side "Somebody made fun of your moustache?"

There was a rustle near the bushes where Port and Oobleck had appeared. A shadow leapt out of them.

"DID SOMEONE SAY MOUSTA- ah!" Velvet boomed, standing proudly with her hands at her hips. Pink holographic copies of Port's blunderaxe and moustache in her hand and on her lip, respectively. The moment she stepped out and saw who she was addressing, she jolted back. Eyes wide and mouth agape.

She froze, as the fire continued to crackle softly.

"… Velvet." I acknowledge.

"Uh… h-hi." She said, shrinking a little and flushing.

"Were you bullying Professor Port?" I asked, cautiously.

"… Maybe." She said tossing the blunderaxe away but leaving the moustache.

"Bullying, me?" Port asked softly, stricken that I used the word to describe him.

"… It's a nice moustache." She offered.

"…" I rubbed the bridge of my mask "Seriously V? You of all people?"

"Sorry…" She offered weakly.

"…" I sighed heavily through my nose "… You want some cocoa?"

"… Yes please."